• 25th January
    2012
  • 25
  • 23rd December
    2011
  • 23
Faith is the surrender of the mind; it’s the surrender of reason, it’s the surrender of the only thing that makes us different from other mammals. It’s our need to believe, and to surrender our skepticism and our reason, our yearning to discard that and put all our trust or faith in someone or something, that is the sinister thing to me. Of all the supposed virtues, faith must be the most overrated.
Christopher Hitchens (via washingtonpoststyle)
  • 21st December
    2011
  • 21
  • 14th December
    2011
  • 14
  • 13th December
    2011
  • 13

shit or get off the pot

  • ME:
  • what is your stance tho
  • i mean
  • honestly
  • where are you at
  • on the scale
  • of wanting to get hitched
  • and you can be honest
  • HIM:
  • i'm waiting for you
  • ME:
  • are you serious
  • HIM:
  • to be ready to put your happiness with me
  • above your sense of duty to your parents
  • that's the truth
  • 13th December
    2011
  • 13
A New Model of Empathy: The Rat

In a simple experiment, researchers at the University of Chicago sought to find out whether a rat would release a fellow rat from an unpleasantly restrictive cage if it could. The answer was yes.

The free rat, occasionally hearing distress calls from its compatriot, learned to open the cage and did so with greater efficiency over time. It would release the other animal even if there wasn’t the payoff of a reunion with it. Astonishingly, if given access to a small hoard of chocolate chips, the free rat would usually save at least one treat for the captive — which is a lot to expect of a rat.

The researchers came to the unavoidable conclusion that what they were seeing was empathy — and apparently selfless behavior driven by that mental state.

(via david)

  • 12th December
    2011
  • 12
  • 6th December
    2011
  • 06
  • 6th December
    2011
  • 06
One sprained knee, 4 dead toenails & a ridiculously awful finishing time later, I am still reeling from the disappointment that was the SG Marathon. I was hoping to write a victorious update not for the sake of vanity, but for the mere luxury of being able to look myself in the mirror and knowing for an absolute fact that accomplishing it the first time wasn’t a fluke or some wondrous stroke of luck because seriously, I am no athlete. To me, that 1st marathon was the culmination of months of training and sacrifice, proof that anything is possible as long as I put my heart/mind/soul into it. My 2nd marathon theoretically was supposed to be better. I ran the first marathon in support of friends and family, but I wanted this second one to be for me. I knew what I was up against, or so I thought. I realize it’s so easy to blame it on external factors- the humidity, the heat, the lack of sleep, my superstitious pre-race ritual that i skipped this time around, but it just boils down to one pure and simple fact: I choked. My right knee gave way at the 34th km after running through kilometers of crazy cramping on my right thigh, and as I sat there on the floor sobbing as the medic bandaged up the sprain, he told me that he didn’t think i should continue, but that meant that i wouldn’t be considered an “official finisher” of the run. I didn’t quit. But I didn’t run either- I jogged/walked/trudged the rest of the way to the finish line. I know that there’s some degree of honor that comes from not having given up but I can’t seem to shake the crushing sense of failure I feel at not having conquered the run on my own terms. Or worse, that overwhelming feeling of discouragement at not wanting to run again because I don’t want to go through that misery and relive that last 8km again.  That picture above was taken just yesterday, a few meters away from the finish line, pain visibly etched on my face. I pushed myself to run through it and finish “strong.” If only my emotional self could be just as strong. 

One sprained knee, 4 dead toenails & a ridiculously awful finishing time later, I am still reeling from the disappointment that was the SG Marathon.

I was hoping to write a victorious update not for the sake of vanity, but for the mere luxury of being able to look myself in the mirror and knowing for an absolute fact that accomplishing it the first time wasn’t a fluke or some wondrous stroke of luck because seriously, I am no athlete. To me, that 1st marathon was the culmination of months of training and sacrifice, proof that anything is possible as long as I put my heart/mind/soul into it. My 2nd marathon theoretically was supposed to be better. I ran the first marathon in support of friends and family, but I wanted this second one to be for me. I knew what I was up against, or so I thought. I realize it’s so easy to blame it on external factors- the humidity, the heat, the lack of sleep, my superstitious pre-race ritual that i skipped this time around, but it just boils down to one pure and simple fact: I choked.

My right knee gave way at the 34th km after running through kilometers of crazy cramping on my right thigh, and as I sat there on the floor sobbing as the medic bandaged up the sprain, he told me that he didn’t think i should continue, but that meant that i wouldn’t be considered an “official finisher” of the run. I didn’t quit. But I didn’t run either- I jogged/walked/trudged the rest of the way to the finish line. I know that there’s some degree of honor that comes from not having given up but I can’t seem to shake the crushing sense of failure I feel at not having conquered the run on my own terms. Or worse, that overwhelming feeling of discouragement at not wanting to run again because I don’t want to go through that misery and relive that last 8km again. 

That picture above was taken just yesterday, a few meters away from the finish line, pain visibly etched on my face. I pushed myself to run through it and finish “strong.” If only my emotional self could be just as strong. 

  • 24th November
    2011
  • 24
There are two ways of meeting difficulties: you alter the difficulties or you alter yourself to meet them.
Phyllis Bottome (via anntaylor)