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#alienation
feral-ballad · 1 month
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from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "David of Sassoun"
[Text ID: "I do not feel part of the world."]
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philosophybits · 6 months
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I feel myself to be an alien in the world. If you have no ties to either mankind or to God, then you are an alien.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Nachlass, MS 135 (28 July 1947)
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macrolit · 1 year
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Room scenes by Edward Hopper (1882-1967)
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Alienation is that form of disentanglement that allows the making of capitalist assets. Capitalist commodities are removed from their lifeworlds to serve as counters in the making of further investments. Infinite needs are one result; there is no limit on how many assets investors want. Thus, too, alienation makes possible accumulation—the amassing of investment capital, and this is the second of my concerns. Accumulation is important because it converts ownership into power. Those with capital can overturn communities and ecologies. Meanwhile, because capitalism is a system of commensuration, capitalist value forms flourish even across great circuits of difference. Money becomes investment capital, which can produce more money. Capitalism is a translation machine for producing capital from all kinds of livelihoods, human and not human.
Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins
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xieyaohuan · 5 months
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I lost quite a bit of weight recently, and it's such a deeply alienating experience because you can see in real time how people around you start treating you differently. It's not the first time this has happened to me -- I go up and down quite a bit, mainly due to the meds I take -- but the more often I go through this, the more difficult it becomes to maintain basic respect for my fellow human beings. I can see in real time how I move from "sub-human" to "human being" in their eyes, and I'm like: ah, man, I just wish this change wasn't so damn obvious. Like, I feel I could still be part of polite human society if people were just a tiny bit better at hiding their fatphobia. Instead, I have this weird situation that just as people start to view me as a human being again, I have to put in more and more effort so I don't show how difficult that makes it for me to respect them and treat them like nothing's changed. (To be fair, none of my good friends are fatphobic, but at this point, I also strictly pick my friends based on how they treat me when I weigh more.) Anyway. I don't even want to hold this against anyone because what even is the point, but it's hard not to when it's such an integral part of how people treat you.
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thirdity · 1 month
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Each of us has suffered a primordial inner schism with the result that any given human self is only part of a once-intact greater self. Each of us is alienated from the world (man contra world) because each of us is alienated from himself, not just warring or in conflict: no: the parts of the self have become separated from each other and because of that, experience of world is partial, occluded, impaired, deformed. A partial self experiences a partial world, with the result that world is alien, irreal, hostile, strange, arousing perplexity and dread. Man does not understand world because he does not understand himself...
Philip K. Dick, The Exegesis of Philip K. Dick
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moonstoast · 2 years
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—alienation under capitalism
the fate of man in the modern world by nikolai berdyaev // alienation: the city at night by felix wilkinson // terence mckenna // social isolation by max cavallari // the art of loving by erich fromm // george tooker // the foundations of historical materialism by herbert marcuse
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kafkasapartment · 2 months
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Gentiluomo in villeggiatura, 1964. Giorgio de Chirico, 1888 - 1978. Oil on canvas.
A solitary figure seems adrift in a world that is both familiar and strange.
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3eanuts · 11 months
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October 21, 1955 — see The Complete Peanuts 1955-1958
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motheyesofnight · 11 months
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(from 'a wilderness')
in the middle of the world's darkest and most solitary wilderness,
I am just standing still alone.
I cannot sink down.
I have to keep looking
for the light, which is invisible.
as the frigid wind blows,
I tore all the clothes
I was wearing to shreds.
I couldn't get over it without shivering
and feeling the cold more
and more severely.
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whereserpentswalk · 7 months
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Imagine you're a human, living long after humans have gone out into space, but you grew up so far from human space that you've never seen another human. You were adopted from a trading colony on the edge of a human empire and taken further out far past where any human civilization has really explored, you lived your entire life of a city planet, and despite seeing so many different races none of them have ever been your own.
You've only ever known aliens, robots, and other distinctly inhuman creatures. Maybe the closest you've seen is something created by humans, but those creatures have even less reason to like humans then aliens do. Though most people are nice to you, they just see you as something so exotic, if anything people think it's cool that you're such an out there race, most people think of humans as mysterious and ancient, even though you've never felt like any of those things.
You don't know how to deal with any normal human things. There are libraries where you can research your lifecycle, or how someone from your species would clean themself or what kinds of clothing would go over your body. But none of those things tell you how you'll feel, how it'll actually be to go through the natural lifecycle of your species.
You will always feel like a stranger in your own home. Even those closest to you have a degree of separation. Your adoptive parents are sentient machines, built by a long dead race. Your partner is shaped somewhat like you, but has an insectoid exoskeleton, and massive glowing eyes. Your best friend is something sharp toothed and serpentine, closer to the monsters of myth then a fellow human. These people love and care about you, and you about them, but there will never be a common connection that you would have with a human stranger, even if these are people who are close to you, people who care about.
At one point in your life, you start leaning about human culture. You read through as much as you can get your hand on of ancient human literature, translations of Tolkien, Homer, Milton, Shelly, all these things you imagine being part of humanity's canon.
You try your best to embrace your human culture. But ultimately, it's just a foreign imitation of something you'll never feel a part of. You feel part of the planet you've lived your entire life on more than anything else. You don't even know what human culture you'd embrace if you did embrace one. Though everything you do pick up, from some ancient human languages, to the ways of dressing you find most comfortable, to a few religious practices from various cultures, you hold on to as your own.
Among some there's scorn that you're too human. That you act too human, or have too many of their cultural quirks, people would be more comfortable if you acted like a member of a more common race even if you're stuck in a human body.
Among others you seem not human enough. They want you to be that legendary empire building race, and then you're just some guy. You seem like a disappointment. You're embarrassed that you don't know as much about humanity that people want you to.
Eventually you meet a crew of humans from a trading ship. They offer to take you back to human space. But you don't see your fellow countrymen, but a crew of aliens, with alien nature and customs. They want to talk to you, to educate you, but you have so little in common, less than you would with any alien raised on the same planet as you.
There will always be a loneliness, an alienation. And if you aren't given a self, you'll have to forge your own.
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feral-ballad · 7 months
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Linda Pastan, from Waiting for My Life: Poems; "Excursion"
[Text ID: I am a tourist / in my own life, / gazing at the exotic shapes / of flowers / as if someone else / had planted them;"]
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vaporplanet · 3 months
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C o l l a g e c r e a t e d b y m y s e l f a n d w h i c h I t i t l e d . . . " 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 "
C o l l a g e c r e a t o d a l s o t t o s c r i t t o e c h e h o i n t i t o l a t o . . . " 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 "
#weirdcore #weirdcoreaesthetic #weird #weirdart #dreamcore #dreamcoreaesthetic #wallpaper #digitalcollage #darkart #oddcore #traumacore #creepy #creepyart #liminalspace #nostalgia #derealization #alienation
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eco-situationism · 2 years
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[x]
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heavensickness · 1 year
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Jenny Holzer, Inflammatory Essays (1979–82)
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philosophybits · 2 months
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To define force — it is that x that turns anybody who is subjected to it into a thing. Exercised to the limit, it turns man into a thing in the most literal sense: it makes a corpse out of him.
Simone Weil, "The Iliad or The Poem of Force"
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