A few words
"When we describe the Moon as dead, we are describing the deadness in ourselves. When we find space so hideously void, we are describing our own unbearable emptiness."
~ D.H. Lawrence
"Is the meaning of life defined by its duration? Or does life have a purpose so large that it doesn't have to be prolonged at any cost to preserve its meaning?"
"Living is not good, but living well. The wise man, therefore, lives as well as he should, not as long as he can... He will always think of life in terms of quality not quantity... Dying early or late is of no relevance, dying well or ill is... even if it is true that while there is life there is hope, life is not to be bought at any cost."
"People will tell you nothing matters, the whole world's about to end soon anyway. Those people are looking at life the wrong way. I mean, things don't need to last forever to be perfect."
~ Daydream Nation
"All Bette's stories have happy endings. That's because she knows where to stop. She's realized the real problem with stories-- if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death."
~ The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes
"The road now stretched across open country, and it occurred to me - not by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experience - that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong site of the road."
~ Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."
~ William Blake
Think about it
Kill that boredom!
Binder Paper Comics
Web Comics and Such
A Distant Soil (Some nudity)
The Adventures of Gyno-Star (Some explicit stuff)
Blue Milk Special
Cigarro & Cerveja
Cyanide and Happiness
dead winter (has some explicit stuff)
Devilbear: The Grimoires of Bearalzebub (PG-13?)
Eat That Toast!
The Fancy Adventures of Jack Cannon
For Lack of a Better Comic
Girls with Slingshots (some explicit stuff...?)
The Intrepid Girlbot
The Last Halloween
Last Train to Old Town
The League of Evil Genius
Legend of Bill
Living With Insanity (some nudity)
Love Me Nice
Married to the Sea
The Moon Prince
Moth (Some nudity)
The Non-Adventures of Wonderella
Political Cartoonists Index
Poorly Drawn Lines
The Property of Hate
Robbie and Bobby
Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Scenes from a Multiverse
The Secret Knots
Stand Still. Stay Silent
Strong Female Protagonist
The Super Fogeys
Tales of Pylea
Three Word Phrase (some nudity)
Tiny Kitten Teeth
Toothpaste for Dinner
Trying Human (Some nudity)
Two Guys and Guy
Yellow Peril (PG-13)
Infrequently/No Longer Updating Web Comics
The Abominable Charles Christopher
The Adventures of Dr. McNinja
The Adventures of Ellie Connelly
Bag of Toast
Bear in Mind
The Book of Biff
Chain Bear (Some explicit stuff)
Daisy is Dead
Ectopiary (Some nudity)
Edmund Finney's Quest to Find the Meaning of Life
A Fine Example
Finn and Charlie are HITCHED
Hark! A Vagrant
Head Doctor Productions
Hello with Cheese
Kyle & Atticus
Lesbian Pirates from Outer Space
Letters to a Wild Boar
Lovecraft is Missing
Meat and Plastic
The Nerds of Paradise
No Reason Comics
One Swoop Fell
Pictures for Sad Children
A Redtail's Dream
Roy's Boys (PG 13?)
Run Freak Run
The Super Gay Adventures of Ross Boston
YU + ME
Pure Flash Awesomeness
Die Anstalt : Toy Psychiatry
Clients from Hell
Creatures in My Head
Damn You Auto Correct!
Jhonen Vasquez's site
Overheard in New York
Passive Aggressive Notes
Running with it
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
(Dan links me an amusing picture of a girl wearing an unflattering rainbow wig with an awkward expression on her face)
[7:38:45 PM] Me: Dreamgirl
[7:38:51 PM] Dan: <3
[7:39:11 PM] Dan: I have found her
[7:40:03 PM] Me: Clearly you should woo her with some poetry
[7:40:19 PM] Dan: 2 nervis
[7:40:28 PM] Me: u can do it
[7:40:36 PM] Dan: no
[7:40:37 PM] Dan: NO
[7:40:59 PM] Me: hair as soft as spidersilk
eyes that could make angels cry
skin as white as mother's milk
pls i need u in my lyf
[7:41:08 PM] Dan: omg
[7:41:18 PM] Dan: bootyfuk
[7:41:21 PM] Dan: ...
[7:41:21 PM] Dan: ful
[7:41:30 PM] Me: Hahahaha
[7:41:34 PM] Me: That was the best typo
[7:41:46 PM] Dan: bootyfuk is my new band
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
I feel like many of my more significant memories are of things that happened while I was alone. It's not that being alone made them special... to be honest, I wish I could have shared them most of the time. I think it's just hard to get into the kind of mindset that enables those types of events when other people around. I feel like I can appreciate things so much more deeply when I'm not concerned with what other people are thinking or feeling.
Anyway, I was thinking about my stint as a volunteer at one of the local libraries. My job was somewhat tedious I guess. I had two main duties: write VOID on books the library was getting rid of and put new plastic covers on books that needed them. Since I worked in the children's department, all the books I dealt with were children's books. I ended up reading a lot of them out of boredom.
It's strange to read children's books as an adult. You notice a lot more and question things about the story that you probably wouldn't if you were a decade or two younger. I remember being struck by how deep or dark some of the stories actually were. I don't think any of the stories I read as a child particularly scared me in any lasting way (I should mention that I've been reading ghost and horror stories since I was at least seven, so I feel like that means something). Sometimes the pictures that accompanied the stories would scare me, but not the stories themselves. Even one of the fairy tales I think about most often, "The Strange Feast", didn't particularly frighten me.
For context, this is the story:
A blood sausage and a liver sausage had been friends for some time, and the blood sausage invited the liver sausage for a meal at her house. At dinnertime the liver sausage merrily set out for the blood sausage’s house. But when she walked through the doorway, she saw all kinds of strange things. There were many steps, and on each one of them she found something different. There were a broom and shovel fighting with each other, a monkey with a big wound on his head, and more such things.
The liver sausage was very frightened and upset by this. Nevertheless, she took heart, entered the room, and was welcomed in a friendly way by the blood sausage. The liver sausage began to inquire about the strange things on the stairs, but the blood sausage pretended not to hear her or made it seem it was not worth talking about, or she said something about the shovel and the broom such as, “That was probably my maid gossiping with someone on the stairs.” And she shifted the topic to something else.
Then the blood sausage said she had to leave the room to go into the kitchen and look after the meal. She wanted to check to see that everything was in order and nothing had fallen into the ashes. The liver sausage began walking back and forth in the room and kept wondering about the strange things until someone appeared- I don’t know who it was- and said, “Let me warn you, liver sausage, you’re in a bloody murderous trap. You’d better get out of here quickly if you value your life!”
The liver sausage did not have to think twice about this. She ran out the door as fast as she could. Nor did she stop until she got out of the house and was in the middle of the street. Then she looked around and saw the blood sausage standing high up in the attic window with a long, long knife that was gleaming as though it had just been sharpened. The blood sausage threatened her with it and cried out, “If I had caught you, I would have had you!”
I feel like I find the world so much more surprising and interesting now than I did as a child, which seems... maybe the opposite of how a lot of people are. When I was younger I wasn't impatient to grow up or anything (actually I was anxious to make my childhood last as long as possible), but I hadn't really figured out how to stretch my time by paying more attention to my surroundings yet. Now I spend a fair chunk of my time reflecting on how things feel, physically or otherwise.
But back to what I was talking about before... I often feel the need to share significant moments I've had with people, but in a way it seems like that diminishes the value of the memory for me. When I share a movie I liked a lot when I watched it with alone, my appreciation for it may decrease a lot because the other person doesn't care for it or finds flaws with it. I find myself making disclaimers a lot about the quality of the things I like. "I'm not going to say it's a good movie, but I like it" comes up somewhat frequently.
I want to be able to share an experience with someone and be mutually impacted in a significant way. I want to be somewhere and feel wonder at life and all its complexities and know that the person I'm with feels it too. I don't know if it's entirely possible, though. If it was just a matter of decreasing my own worries and inhibitions that would be one thing, but I can't control how other people take in information and react to it. I wonder if this is just a pipe dream.
Older soon [3P]
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Friday, September 12, 2014
That's the yellowy gold color of the beautiful feminine being from the dream I had years ago, although she had some sunset shades in her as well.
The color of love.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Down down down and pumpkins [DP]
Monday, September 8, 2014
Sunday, September 7, 2014
WWTBOA? [Same as 8/8/14]
Saturday, September 6, 2014
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