Archive - Bullets
youtu.be/V6nbFZtxAL4
I feel as if this song is about a soldier coming home.
Touch me like an ordinary man refers to a soldier wanting him/herself to be thought of as normal despite being a trained killer.
Underneath my skin there is a violence refers to the same thing.
Ready to make sense of anything refers to being ready for any combat.
Black holes refers to holes where personality used to be but was torn away by war.
Razor wires refers to being strictly confined to a hard lifestyle.
Blistering skies refers to skies filled with smoke and destruction.
Bullets are the beauty of... Represents being in a world where your life depends on the bullets you have.
Personal Responsibility refers to keeping sanity in a world of chaos and death.
Give me feedback please. I'd like to know if this makes sense or not.
Gençliğimizin muazzam şarkılarından...
“I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightfoward pathway had been lost. Ah me! How hard a thing is to say, what was this forest savage, rough, and stern, which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more...”
Finally, we looked at Reichenbach’s pragmatic way of living with the problem of induction. On this proposal, one concedes that one lacks a justification for induc- tion, but argues that, nonetheless, employing induction is the most rational thing to do. This is because if any method of inference is going to get us true beliefs about the world, it will be induction. We can thus be assured that induction is the best method available, even if we have no justification for it, and thus, since we have to form beliefs about the world, it is rational to use induction.
Sayfa 106
“But falling in love is always a pretty crazy thing. It might appear out of the blue and just grab you. Who knows—maybe even tomorrow.”
We fight for survival with everything we’ve got, as if the oxygen mask and the seat belt and avoidance of a square of chocolate cake might be the thing that saves us. That’s the difference between the real and the virtual. Reality is where you can lose the ones you love. Reality is the place where you can feel the cracks in your heart.
Yeong-hye was four years younger than her, enough of an age gap for them not to have been in competition with each other growing up. As small children their young cheeks were frequently left throbbing by their heavy-handed father, and Yeong-hye had provoked in In-hye a sense of responsibility that resembled maternal affection, a need to expend all her energy in looking out for this younger sister. She had watched, marveling, as this same sister, once up to her elbows in the dirt
and suffering from a recurring heat rash on the backs of her knees, grew up and got married. The one thing that caused her distress was that, as she got older, Yeong-hye became more and more taciturn. She’d always had this side to her, of course, but she had also been perfectly cheerful and sociable when the occasion called for it. Somehow—not suddenly, but over a period of time—she became
difficult to read. So difficult that there were times when she seemed like a total stranger.
A day or two after Ji-woo was born, when Yeong-hye came to the hospital to say hello to her first nephew, rather than congratulating her sister she had simply muttered to herself, “I’ve never seen such
a tiny child…so this is what they’re like when they’ve just been born?”
There’d been something faintly unsettling about the quiet smile playing around Yeong-hye’s mouth. What seemed to be happening was that Yeong-hye was retreating from herself, becoming as distant to herself as she was to her sister. A forlorn face, behind a mask of composure. This was clearly nothing like the melancholy that sometimes afflicted her husband, and yet in certain respects they were both baffling to her in exactly the same way. They were both descending further into silence.
The only times when the pain simply, miraculously ceases, are those moments just after she laughs.
Something Ji-woo says or does makes her laugh, and then immediately afterward she is left blank,
empty even of pain. At such times, the sheer fact of her having laughed seems unbelievable, and makes her laugh again. Admittedly, this laughter always seems more manic than happy, but Ji-woo
loves to see it all the same.
“Was this it, Mum? Was this what made you laugh?”
Then Ji-woo will repeat whatever it is he’d just been doing, such as pursing his lips and using his hands to mimic a horn growing out of his forehead, or else making a clattering sound, sticking his
head between his legs and calling out “Mum, Mum!” in a silly voice. The more she laughs, the more he ups the ante with his clowning. By the time he finishes he will have run through all the secret
mysteries of laughter that human beings have ever understood, mobilizing everything at his disposal.
There is no way for him to know how guilty it makes his mother feel, seeing such a young child go to such lengths just to wring a bit of apparent happiness from her, or that her laughter will all eventually
run out.
Life is such a strange thing, she thinks, once she has stopped laughing. Even after certain things have happened to them, no matter how awful the experience, people still go on eating and drinking, going to the toilet and washing themselves—living, in other words. And sometimes they even laugh out loud. And they probably have these same thoughts, too, and when they do it must make them
cheerlessly recall all the sadness they’d briefly managed to forget.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Nothing seems more natural than desire, but the first thing to notice is that we’re wired only for species-appropriate desire. This underscores a simple but crucial point: the brain’s circuits are designed to generate behavior that is appropriate to our survival. Apples and eggs and potatoes taste good to us not because the shapes of their molecules are inherently wonderful, but because they’re perfect little packages of sugars and proteins: energy dollars you can store in your bank. Because those foods are useful, we are engineered to find them tasty.
Now I have neither happiness or unhappiness.Everything passes.
That is the one and only thing I have thought resembled a truth in the society of human beings where I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.
Everything passes.
"Daddy says you can predict exactly where Mars will be in the sky, even in a hundred years. But the funny thing is that daddy doesn't know what will happen to him two minutes from now."
Mr. Nobody (2009)
‘Visit the places where people are judged, imprisoned or executed … One thing will strike you everywhere; everywhere you see two quite distinct classes of men, one of which always meets on the seats of the accusers and judges, the other on the benches of the accused’, which is explained by the fact that the latter, for lack of resources and education, do not know ‘how to remain within the limits of legal probity’
(Lucas, II, 82)
youtu.be/eQdarhAnG3I
That's why I called my thing The Marathon
Because I, I'm not gon' lie and portray
Um, this ultimate poise, like I been had it figured out
Nah, I just didn't quit
That's the only distinguishing quality
From me and probably whoever else is goin' through this
Or went through this, or is gonna go through this
Is that I