Ugh. Apparently Van Gogh didn’t cut off his ear for the girl he loved. Either he cut if off while he was hopped up on drugs, or Gauguin cut if off when he was pissed at him. And either way, he walked to a brothel and gave it to a prostitue named Rachael.
golehyas replied to your post: Ugh. Apparently Van Gogh didn’t cut off his ear…
i thought he cut it off because he was mentally ill
They may be related, but I don’t think it was a direct cause. This is what the source I read it off said:
Until recently, it was thought that van Gogh turned his anxiety over Gauguin on himself and severed his own ear and Gauguin, upset by his friend’s state of mind, left Arles. However, Kaufman and Wildegans believe that Gauguin, fed up with van Gogh’s mental instability, decided to leave the house after van Gogh threw a glass at him during an argument. A crazed van Gogh followed him and things became violent. Gauguin, either in anger or self-defense, lopped off part of van Gogh’s left ear.
john-uskglass replied to your post: Ugh. Apparently Van Gogh didn’t cut off his ear…
Love the “Love’s not real” tag for a self-mutilation post :P
In kindergarten, cutting your ear off for the girl you love is tres romantic. I even imagined him wrapping it up and putting in a box. I don’t know. ):
Does anyone else like sticking their hand in jars of lentils or beans? No?
“They say America is a free country. But we have laws…?”
My 10 Year Old Brother.
It’s a proven fact that my family will 100% more political if I’m in the room.
“Jasmeet doesn’t believe in God. She’s a communist.”
– My Dad
Sometimes I trip over shadows.
“The way your chest falls up and down when you breathe… makes me fantasize about you and me… going to the supermarket and getting groceries. Organic groceries.”
When I say I’m easy to please, I really do mean it. But occasionally I do wonder, am I?
While on the REXL this Friday, The Rutgers Review lazily sat on my lap as I picked it up every now then between switching songs my iPod and looking out the window at the passing scenes. After a series of technology-will-ruin-us articles, I came across an article only half a page long that left my mouth slightly agape. As my engaged mind stared out the window, my iPod continued playing. The benefits of binge-downloading music are limitless, but there’s nothing like chancing on a song that resonates with how you’re feeling, just like chancing on an article that encapsulates your current mindset.
It’s easy to forget how pretty my campus is, especially during autumn, with everyone constantly looking for reasons to call Rutgers shitty (which more or less, it is.) I guess it’s easy in general to forget about our ability to find the things in the nooks and crannies of life that make it easier to breathe.
At the moment, on the REXL, that’s all it took for me: an article about someone else who feels like a loner every now and then, who feels like doing something reckless when daily rountine gets too confining, who feels the burden of being a person.
As if holding my hand, he told me: “Maybe you can find solace in the fact that it is hard to be a person only because we demand extraordinary things from ourselves and everyone around us, beautiful and rich things that are hard to express and even harder to come by but feel so damn necessary when we finally hold them close.”
And that’s what I’m waiting for, that’s what I’m waiting for, aren’t I?
Am I easy to please then? Maybe not. Definitely simply pleased, however.
I just found a timeline of everything poster for six dollars on the internet and omg I need to blackmail my sister into buying it for me.
When my parents are mad at me, I cry.
When my parents are nice to me, I cry.
When my parents are indifferent towards me, I cry.
So I’m walking back to the room I was just in, ready to get my debate on, and then BAM my soulmate just walks right by me.
He was wearing yellow pants, guys. My kinda yellow pants. With a blue shirt. We could be walking IKEAs together.