The funniest email I’ve ever received:
Post-breakup bullshit:
A mistake:
A screenshot of a GQ article about Justin Bieber:
Which means his frontal lobes aren't fully connected yet. As Elizabeth Kolbert's article in this week's New Yorker explains, the nucleus accumbens or "Pleasure Center" in the human brain reaches maximum size in the teen years, before it begins to fucking shrink. Kolbert quotes Laurence Steinberg, a professor of psychology at Temple: "Nothing—whether it's being with your friends, having sex, licking an ice-cream cone, zipping along in a convertible on a warm summer evening, hearing your favorite music—will ever feel as good as it did when you were a teenager."
A screenshot of an article one of my journalism profs wrote about l’appel du vide:
What these theories share in common is their observation that the will to live—and the specter of death—swirl and mix at the edge of an abyss. In some sense, it's as if the abyss itself exerts a pull on us. Feeling dizzy at the brink of the precipice, as Sartre saw it, is "the vertigo of possibility" when humans contemplate dangerous experiments in freedom. "During vertigo the drop obsesses us," as Cox explains in his book, The Existentialist's Guide to Death, the Universe and Nothingness: The void seems to beckon us down, but really it is our own freedom that beckons us down, the very fact that we can always choose to go down the quick way."
Kitty-spotting and an accidental self-portrait:
Amsterdam:
Madrid:
A humble yet delicious meal in Berlin: