foxmouth:

Powder, 2014 | by Marcus Palmqvist
"   The testing culture in education teaches there is only one specific answer that works. When a student is answering 75 to 100 questions in a standardized format, when a student is forced to fill in a single bubble, the student begins to view all knowledge in this format, the student sees a question through the structure of the standardized form. The nonsense of this is that life itself is randomly structured. Nature hides its forms. The universal rule in matter is darkness and mystery over light. The student, however, conditioned by this system conditionally believes that there is only one right specific answer and the answer is not important for its own sake but as regards the overall score of test. The student is only interested in acquiring the right knowledge to complete the test to avoid failure. No love of subject is acquired. The student, who might make an excellent botanist, can’t even remember the parts of a plant. This is social conditioning under the guise of self-development. The student is instructed, but not in subject matter. The student becomes a walking factory system, looking for the specific part to complete the specific stage of the product, completely unaware as to what is being built, and equally unconcerned about being unaware.   "
(via howitzerliterarysociety)
Breathing

About two weeks ago I was lying in bed after being awake for a few minutes. I noticed that I was growing anxious which is usually a common symptom in the mornings. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on everything that my body was doing: all my weight on my left side, the flutter of my heart, the kink in my neck, the shallowness of my breath. 
It was then that I took in a ginormous breath of air. It expanded my entire chest and pushed out into the depth of my lower lungs. It was such an extensive breath that the darkness that was inside was thrown out on the exhale. 
Don’t forget to breathe

nevver:

Send no flowers, Mary Kocol

07/22/2014

I hated how love was something so delicate to hamper with. I hated how love made bad timing. I hated how love decided to show up at lunch in the back of the restaurant over a fish sandwich and me oozing over Colorguard. I hated how it took three years to figure out.