humanities girl working in tech. novelist, essayist, always in revision mode. taking a break from X. find me on substack or IG: literaryelaine.
nyc
Joined August 2010
- Tweets2.6K
- Following721
- Followers5.2K
- Likes3.3K
elaine retweeted
reading really good nonfiction feels much more “nutrient dense” than scrolling the feed, even if your feed is really well-curated.
It’s like the difference between a really beautiful multi-course meal by a single chef, and grazing on a bunch of random little snacks
elaine retweeted
not a single human being on this entire planet wants a permanent Netflix sticker on their copy of East of Eden.
elaine retweeted
desire = "I want this"
anger = "I don't want this"
two sides of the same coin. inability to express anger is an inability to express desire. resentment is what happens when desire is unexpressed - it goes underground & festers
the classic archetype here is the "nice guy" - agreeable on the surface, but often with a deep simmering rage that erupts eventually
the nice guy can't articulate his desires - he doesn't want to risk rejection or risk making others uncomfortable. he puts his desire/anger in his shadow and tries to forget about it
but there's a huuuge cost to that. he loses access to his own aliveness, and resentment takes its place. he feels his own rage and it frightens him, and thus he rejects it more
elaine retweeted
LLMs made me realize that my whole life, I had been asking A LOT fewer questions than I wanted to be asking.
elaine retweeted
I think “being yourself” is good advice, but not bc your current self is good but bc unresisted flow has the cleanest gradients, you want to learn from the truth of whatever the system naturally is now. you be yourself so you can learn to become the kind of self that is good
elaine retweeted
I read somewhere (I think @sighswoon's IG) that the goal of self-expression is not to win people over but to find your people—and that's changed everything for me
elaine retweeted
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
—Kenyon
ALT Otherwise by Jane Kenyon I got out of bed on two strong legs. It might have been otherwise. I ate cereal, sweet milk, ripe, flawless peach. It might have been otherwise. I took the dog uphill to the birch wood. All morning I did the work I love. At noon I lay down with my mate. It might have been otherwise. We ate dinner together at a table with silver candlesticks. It might have been otherwise. I slept in a bed in a room with paintings on the walls, and planned another day just like this day. But one day, I know, it will be otherwise.
