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Iceland has also has ranked number one in terms of gender equality for the past nine years in a row (the United States, meanwhile, has ranked 49th).
It’s 8pm and I am in bed under the covers. I should go sit in the backyard with a book and breathe in the air but it’s humid and the sun feels annoying. So escape it is.
Its probably common for people to sleep all the time because their dreams feel more alive than they do. More fun, dramatic, happy. More something. Even if you don’t remember them all the time.
Sometimes even the nightmares I have feel like a better story than my day to day life. I’ve heard most people dream in black and white or with little color and that it’s after when awake our imagination recalls vivid colors that weren’t really there, but fuck that. I see colors in my dreams that I can’t see when awake. Colors that don’t exist. Or shouldn’t.
Maybe it’s depression. I’m not unhappy, mind you. I’ve got a great marriage and my kids are healthy and I feel love. It’s just that I feel boring and tired and I want to chase the colors that aren’t real.
“I took at the time a memorandum of my several senses, and also of my hat and coat, and my best shoes – but it was lost in the mêlée, and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself. Such wits as I reserved, are so badly shattered that repair is useless – and still I can’t help laughing at my own catastrophe.”
I always have an Emily Dickinson poetry book nearby but some of her letters to people hit me with the most feels. Thank you, internet. The above passage always made me feel as though it were a beautiful way of describing how I often feel, despite it being about moving residence or whatnot. If I could sit still and concentrate long enough and make the words come to why it resonates so much with me I would. Also some of her writings can even be too ‘religious’ for me but I find them so beautiful and makes my mind swell with understanding so it just… is.
“I often wish I was a grass, or a toddling daisy, whom all of these problems of the dust might not terrify – and should my own machinery get slightly out of gear, please, kind ladies and gentlemen, some one stop the wheel, – for I know that with belts and bands of gold, I shall whizz triumphant on the new stream!”