jupiterjames:

pimentogirl:

duskenpath:

prismatic-bell:

redzoe2:

pardonmewhileipanic:

duskenpath:

oli-via:

duskenpath:

Rest stops on highways are liminal spaces where the veil is thin and nobody can tell me differently

Explain

The explanation is that liminal spaces are in between places that bridge Here with There, so in fairy tales we often have the Fairy Ring, the Forest Clearing, the Sudden Misty Foggy Forest, the Bridge, the River, graveyards, in some cases

We also have a ton of american urban mythology around famous roadways and sites off the sides of roads

Archetypes like these occur to mark the places in the world where the veil goes thin and humans can have extra-worldly experiences, out of the ordinary way of living

So why wouldn’t transient spaces like rest stops where everyone is just passing through from one place to the next, never stopping for too long, not be a liminal space where spirits frequent, too

Especially since nobody would know if they were real or not

Ok but this speaks to me

I always feel like something isn’t quite right at rest stops

I once slept though three gas stations on a road trip, and the second the car started to slow to turn into a rest stop, I was basically wide awake.

My mom and I were on I-90 in a blizzard once and pulled off at the first exit we could find. Turns out that if we’d gone even a mile further, we would have happened on a 49-and-counting car pileup, and that 90 was closed for MILES. How we found an unblocked ramp was a matter of great debate, but where this gets weirder still is that at the bottom of the ramp was a closed truck stop and an open church full of teenagers–they went for youth group, the blizzard started, and they were stuck until the snow stopped. They fed us leftovers from their potluck dinner, prayed with us for safe travel, and when the snow let up they saw us on our way.

Three days later–Sunday–we were traveling back and decided to stop at that church to thank them. We found it thanks to the truck stop, but this time it was the truck stop that was open and the church that was closed. Neither of us remembered it looking so decrepit on the trip down, and granted we saw it first at night in a snowstorm, but you’d think we’d have noticed the boarded-up windows. So we asked in at the truck stop.

The church had been abandoned for ten years. And yet I still had one of their youth group programs under my sun visor, very clearly labeled for the previous week.

To this day I’m sure we crossed dimensions somewhere on I-90, and that’s how we stayed safe. You could tell me it’s because the truck stop was a liminal space and I’d 100% believe you.

I don’t mind when this post goes around again because sometimes I get stories like this

We don’t have rest stops like this in the UK. We have motorway service stations. And they have high street shops, only miles from anywhere, only accessible from the motorway. It’s as if the high street shops are all on a little trip away from their home town and this is as far as they got.

I had to go to a hospital miles and miles away from my home in Japan because the one in my town wasn’t equipped to run the tests I needed. So a friend drove me since the train would have taken hours, and we had to go through these dormant fields on a mostly dirt road. Nothing for miles as far as you could see except for grass and a river. Not even houses or anything. So, at some point as the sun’s rising, her car stalls. Right next to a soda vending machine. In the middle of a field. With no discernible power outlet or power lines or anything. But it’s on. No cell phone reception, either. We pop the hood and I look around, but neither of us know anything, and we’re worried because we haven’t seen another car or bicycle or scooter in ages. 

We think we’re going to be stranded for a long time, so she buys a couple of canned coffees and we sit down in the car to drink them, and suddenly, the dash lights blink back on. We turn the car on, and it’s fine. 

We get on our way, a little weirded out, and I say, “I’ve had a bizarre feeling the whole time we’ve been driving here. It makes sense now.”

And she says, “yeah, I’ll bet there was a spirit there. It wanted an offering, and then let us go. My mom said that can happen where there aren’t any other real shrines or temples around.”

So our liminal space demanded ￥400 before letting us through.

prokopetz:

Today’s aesthetic: keeping the same tab open in your browser for three solid weeks because you’re definitely going to get around to reading and/or acting on whatever’s in it any minute now.

spoonie-living:

jumpingjacktrash:

umaruspeaks:

cleaning with ADHD is a nightmare. it’s an endless cycle of finding a half-finished chore and stopping the one you were already working on, then remembering that something else needs to be done and getting started on that, then finding half-finished chore and

i have the solution! i call it ‘junebugging’.

have you ever seen a junebug get to grips with a window screen? it’s remarkably persistent, but not very focused. all that matters is location.

how to junebug: choose the location you feel you can probably get some shit done on today. be specific. not ‘the bathroom’ but ‘the bathroom sink’. you are not choosing a range, you are choosing a center; you will move around, but your location is where you’ll keep coming back to. mentally stick a pin in it. consider yourself tethered to that spot by a long mental bungee cord.

go to your location. look at stuff. move stuff around. do a thing. get distracted. remember you’re junebugging the bathroom sink and go back there. look at it some more. do a different thing. get distracted. get a sandwich. remember you’re junebugging and go back to the bathroom sink.

nt’s will go crazy watching you, and if they demand to know When You Will Be Done you will probably have to roll them in a carpet and stuff them up the chimney. you’re done when you feel done, or you’re too bored to live, or it’s bedtime, or any number of other markers, you get to pick. but the thing is, by returning repeatedly to that one spot, you harness the ‘hyperactivity’ part instead of wasting all that energy battling with the ‘attention deficit’ part.

not only will the bathroom sink almost certainly be clean, and probably the mirror and soap dish too, you might’ve swapped in a fresh toothbrush, a new soap, you might’ve unclogged the drain – you will probably also have cleaned or fixed up several things in the near vicinity, or in the path between the sink and where you get the fresh toothbrush, or maybe you did your grocery shopping cuz you were out of soap, or maybe you couldn’t find a clean hand towel and ended up doing laundry.

this is good. you got shit done! it wasn’t necessarily Cleaned The Bathroom in the way nt’s think of it, but screw ‘em. things are better than they were.

plus you worked off enough energy to be able to sleep. which is not small potatoes when living the ADHD life. 😀

Don’t let the adorable name fool you—this is some Seriously Good Advice. May be useful for brain fog and depression, too!

bunjywunjy:

amphata:

cricketcat9:

kaijutegu:

hungry-hungry-hobbit:

systlin:

pipcomix:

the-thrill-be-damned:

it’s facial reconstructions of prehistoric humans!!

like, look at this part-homo sapiens, part-neandertal man from well over 30,000 years ago:

doesn’t he just look like a dude you’d wanna hang out with? like he probably washes dishes in the kitchen with you, and has excellent weed

what a charming fellow. what stories he probably has to tell. i’d definitely go shoot the shit with him on Contemplation Rock after i’d finished my day’s work carving a bone flute for the autumn hunting ceremony, or whatever

people have been people ever since people first became people, i tell you what

they all had lives and histories and families and friends and dumb gossip and games they played and total bullshit in which they believed wholeheartedly

they all argued about the nature of the world, and of themselves

they all sang songs

they all drew pictures

they all buried their dead in graves, and they buried their dead in graves well before they did a lot of that other stuff. they buried their dead with flowers, with panther claws, with the bones of animals they’d killed, with the bones of family members who had died at the same time or earlier. they buried their dead with their arms folded across their chests

they fell in love

they took care of their old and their sick and their disabled, even when it cost them

they made new things, and worried about what the new things meant for people everywhere, as a whole

Oh I like him he looks like he would appreciate my jokes

This dude would have great stories at a get-together and would bring some really great homemade dip. 

I feel like he really digs Lo-Fi Music

This guy was sculpted by Alfons and Adrie Kennis, and their Neanderthal reconstructions are all delightful. 

I love the kid in the last picture a lot- they look like a kid, just a little kid who’s done some mischief and is trying not to laugh about it.

I also adore their Lucy- they’ve struck a wonderful balance between the falling angel and the rising ape.

And their Turkana boy- there’s something precious and wistful in those eyes. 

But my favorite has got to be their reconstruction of H. floresiensis.

Just look at her. That’s a face of someone who’s lived and seen a lot, but also a face that’s known love and joy and laughter. That’s a face with a soul. 

They are all beautiful

What an amazing work, Kennis & Kennis! 

Holy shit how am i only seeing this now??

humans are humans and humans are wonderful!