“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met nearly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson
Martyr by Paul Fryer
“Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.”
Notebooks (1951-1959) by Albert Camus
"I wake up & it breaks my heart. I draw the blinds & the thrill of rain breaks my heart. I go outside. I ride the train, walk among the buildings, men in Monday suits. The flight of doves, the city of tents beneath the underpass, the huddled mass, old women hawking roses, & children all of them, break my heart. There’s a dream I have in which I love the world. I run from end to end like fingers through her hair. There are no borders, only wind. Like you, I was born. Like you, I was raised in the institution of dreaming. Hand on my heart. Hand on my stupid heart."
Meditations in an Emergency, by Cameron Awkward-Rich
"Tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature, they will wrap his body in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. It is a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over the orchard, the wind in the grass. And as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual."
Two-Headed Calf, by Laura Gilpin
La Lune Spirit Bag by Quách Đắc Thắng
There is a werewolf in the town.
Is that bad?
There is a werewolf in the town.
I'll take that as a yes.
How do you suggest we resolve this?
Well, what exactly is the issue?
There is a werewolf in the town.
Yes, okay, I heard you the first time. Is the problem that he is sometimes a wolf, or that he is sometimes a man?
A werewolf is a werewolf. How do you suggest we resolve this?
Work with me here.
The problem is that there is a werewolf.
What do you expect? Do you want me to un-make him? There are many men in the town, and a good number of domesticated wolves. What is the problem? That he was first a man, or first a wolf? Does that even matter? Why is the werewolf an issue?
He was first a man, and now he is a werewolf. There is a werewolf in the town.
Has he actually done anything wrong?
There is a werewolf in the town.
Was this forced upon him? Or did he choose to become a werewolf?
A werewolf is a werewolf.
I see. I think I understand now.
How do you suggest we resolve this problem?
You do not want there to be a werewolf in your town. As I see it there are three options. You could force him to pick between wolf and man, an agonizing divorce from his true being, simply so you do not have a werewolf in your town. You could force him from the town, which may come to be a blessing in the long run - for him, not you. Or you could allow him to integrate and accept that, in our society of men and wolves, there also live werewolves.
There is a werewolf in the town.
Yes, there is. Isn't that beautiful?
How do you suggest we resolve this?
I am beginning to believe that the werewolf is not the problem here.