Her willful charms pleasantly diverting

I don't even know anymore.

[thatwhileifound]

Kaneko Fumiko's The Prison Memoirs of a Japanese Woman

[thatwhileifound]

The dark is a great place to start when you're scared Of the way that your skin will react to the light of the sun -She/Her/hers

[thatwhileifound]

The nuclear hardware produces in the last three decades Will pollute the Earth for thousands of years A nuclear war will destroy it! Is that why the cherry trees blossom? You are destroying and corrupting! In condemning them to the nuclear nightmare Are you willing to accept the burning of tomorrow's unborn? They know nothing of this sorrow!! -Crass I feel like Crass and, especially, "Yes Sir, I Will" only becomes more relevant in spite of the obvious Falklands references.

[thatwhileifound]

Aw, young Batman. I know how it feels to have to grow up too young and how complicated that makes meeting children as an adult before you're unpacked your trauma. You can figure it out though.

[thatwhileifound]

In order to avoid alienating everyone who I have already ranted about how much I love this comic run to tonight, I come back to Tumblr. JMS's Superman: Grounded run. This "Interlude" comic where it transitions to Lois Lane perspective as Superman does his Forest Gump walk - the whole run, it's gorgeous.

[thatwhileifound]

“ That my old friend Ammi died at 37 of a heart attack And I cracked ‘cause people my age are not supposed to die like that No no no no people my age are not supposed to die like that He was the old manager of the sidewalk café That place was a second home to me, it's where I learned to play And his personality really helped create a space Where a bunch of honest misfits could all gather and feel safe He was a cynic, a supporter, he was crazy, he was queer He'd either yell out "cut the bullshit" or, he'd say "I'm glad you're here" And it was always such an honor to have Ammi on my side That's why it hit me like a Mack truck when I found out that he died Yeah, it hit me like a Mack truck when I found that he died” As often happens with the hardest points of my struggles with life and especially through the gaze of my current simultaneous health challenges, I find myself considering my end - and this verse from Kimya Dawson kind of highlights why I’m trying so hard right now. I... it’s not that I can see myself in the description of the person in this verse, although me dying of a heart attack at 37 doesn’t seem too shocking at this point. I see the descriptions of myself from people I care about in that verse though - and that makes it hard to ignore how much it’d hurt them if I gave up. It’s not just about suicide, but it’s about not trying to figure my way out of this shithole mess my trauma, health, and that shitty job I gave too much to has left me in. 

Kimya Dawson is good shit.

[thatwhileifound]

As a little boy, I never felt comfortable with being human.

Genesis P-Orridge

[thatwhileifound]

Not counting the era of me before I was ever in a band and started to have more concrete thoughts on the idea and structure of music, but - after that, the first era I started to work on music intended for me, to be recorded by me, and honestly - to be listened to by me - like... One of the things I obsessed with was the smooth flow of one portion to the next. This sometimes was represented in chord changes - like, I might record a piece that relies on a pretty classic i-v-VI-IV progression, but I’d basically do what it took to smudge the notes enough that there was never a clear division between one chord and the next. The movement of notes was there, but not the concrete feeling of clear progression from one to the next.

I’m writing this in a very distracted sense as a thing to meditate a bit on myself because I see this as an odd sort of self-limiting factor. It’s also been part of what allowed me to explore certain niches for sure, but I kind of feel like it might be born from my instincts that push towards hiding, obscuring myself, and the lack of bravery that I might sometimes have even in my own music. In a sense, I guess, that might explain why the more rhythmic, simple music I’ve been making this last decade feels somehow more vulnerable. 

[thatwhileifound]

What a pathetic babe, determined to die and yet incapable of carrying out the act! And as if it were not grotesque enough to seek salvation in death at an age when she should have been growing and unfolding like the young grass in spring, what was the one thing she wanted to go on living for? Revenge. It was horrible, sad. With one foot over the threshold of the land of death, I had suddenly turned back. I returned to what was for me hell on earth, my aunt’s house. But now one ray of hope, albeit a black and gloomy ray, shone for me, and I had the strength to endure any suffering that lay in store. I was no longer a child; I had a little horned demon inside. A tremendous thirst for knowledge grew in me. What kind of lives were the people in this world living? What was happening in the world? Not only in the world of human beings, I wanted to know too about the world of the insects and animals, the world of the trees and grasses, the world of the stars and the moon, the whole vast world of nature. It was not the miserly learning of the school textbooks that I was after. Every freedom had been taken from me. At school it was sports and games, at home—everything. But the life within me was not so weak as to wither up and die because of that. Somewhere, somehow, I had to find an outlet for this will to live.

Fumiko Kaneko - The Prison Memoirs of a Japanese Woman

[thatwhileifound]

The little kid who watched the old animated show growing up loved these pages of Rogue. 

[thatwhileifound]

Hence there were for me three worlds, one where I lived, a slave under laws that had been invented solely for me and, moreover, with which I could not fully comply (I did not know why), then another world, infinitely distant from mine, in which you dwelt, busy with ruling, issuing orders and being angry when they were not obeyed, and finally a third realm where everybody else lived happily, free from orders and obligation.

Franz Kafka’s “Letter to My Father”

[fuckyeahpoetry]

The Darker Sooner

Then came the darker sooner, came the later lower. We were no longer a sweeter-here happily-ever-after. We were after ever. We were farther and further. More was the word we used for harder. Lost was our standard-bearer. Our gods were fallen faster, and fallen larger. The day was duller, duller was disaster. Our charge was error. Instead of leader we had louder, instead of lover, never. And over this river broke the winter’s black weather.

—Catherine Wing

[thatwhileifound]

Definitely reblogged this one before, but it’s worth doing twice or more.

[thatwhileifound]

Reblogged for like the 80th time. 

[thatwhileifound]

I don’t think I will ever not reblog this poem upon seeing it. 

[thatwhileifound]

Apparently the way to make me fall in love with characters I thought I was over is to turn them into pirates. Worked for her in this issue - worked for Jace while on Ixalan in MTG. 

[thatwhileifound]

The thought of a possible life is only an indulgence for those who already know themselves to be possible. For those who are still looking to become possible, possibility is a necessity.

Judith Butler

[thatwhileifound]

Sometimes comics just hit hard. House of X, Issue 4. Pages noted in image because I felt they provided context to how these images were meant to be displayed which I cannot recreate with Tumblr.

[thatwhileifound]

With hippies, people related to the free love part, but its peace and love message didn’t provide the catharsis that Western society really needs – which is to provide a good place to say: ‘Fuck you.’

Yony Leyser

[thatwhileifound]

The history of electronic music IS the history of minorities and gays and trans people

/u/sawwaveanalog on /r/synthesizers