Nothing, just vast emptiness.
noise dept.
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
trying on a metaphor
YOU ARE THE REASON
NASA
The Stonewall Inn
The Bowery Presents

★
One Nice Bug Per Day

he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
art blog(derogatory)

gracie abrams
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Today's Document
RMH
Show & Tell
ojovivo

seen from Germany

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@everythingsucksbutyoudonthaveto
Nothing, just vast emptiness.

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Tales from Coburg Northern Darkness: The Piper
My house is situated across from a metro train line and an industrial warehouse area. As far as Sunday’s go, this one is nothing special. I’ve lived my day waking early, bike riding, grocery shopping, reading and applying myself to some teachers homework. While working away I suddenly started to notice an exotic melody drifting in through my open window. It is was very strange middle eastern melody being played on some sort of reed instrument. The melody dipped and rose with little motifs featuring an interesting scale that sounds quite reflective and quite lonely at times. Occasionally the player stopped or bended a note out of scale which only added to the strange atmosphere. Looking out from my window I noticed the performer. A man sitting on a chair opposite my window and behind a large fence topped with razor wire situated in the back compound of a warehouse and contrasted against what little tree’s are aloud to grow beyond the choking cement and telephone lines. Like the bird’s in the area, the piper was sitting up against the fence, looking out over the track’s and embracing the afternoon’s onset into evening. That place is always devoid of movement and presence. Just like the top’s of skyscrapers, It is one of those strange places where a barrier blocks us from ever really knowing what’s goes on and if it is really truly there. We can look and observe but at no great detail and like the depths of a forest, we can never really be apart of those restricted area’s, those basement depths, the penthouses overlooking the city, that world of hidden secrets where everything run’s like clockwork without us ever noticing. A train may suddenly pass and in that moment the crushing presence of the rest of the clockwork world comes howling back into reality. But for a few precious moments, I allow the piper to enter my world and create a simple Proustian memory. For the tree’s, the bird’s and all those trapped under the heel of the coming oppressing Monday morning.
Dersu Uzala (Dersu The Trapper) A Memoir by the Russian explorer Vladimir Arsenyev. Arsenyev's work is a hidden jewel in Russian literature with it's simple yet poetic depiction of the immense grandeur of nature, perilous yet humbling adventuring and relationship with an expectational character of endearing inconsistencies and a gorgeous world view. The reports into the landscapes and many numerous native and migrated peoples of the Ussurian Taiga are truly spectacular crossing many languages, races and cultures. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
I accidentally took this photo while filming a video clip this afternoon. It was a bit rushed getting everything done in time and although we mainly used some bleak local shot’s it was a lot of fun improvising with DIY style creepy film techniques. The sad thing is I’ve had to say goodbye to another person who although suddenly came into my life, miraculously ended end up sharing and developing an incredible bond with me. The rarity of that quality of a relationship’s always surprises me especially when they can be few and far between. The world seems a just a bit less bleak and I feel like I’m able to accept the torture chamber of my own subconscious psyche when there’s at least a few other peers who I can relate with and share with in real life. It’s easy to escape and shut yourself in with dead writers, artists and musicians especially when they communicate themes so relatable, profound and deep because the works of Yoshimoto, Edvard Munch or Morrissey can never really let you down. We develop a relationship with people we’re never actually going to meet whether alive or dead and might not actually get on very well with personally. You can experience and use art and philosophy all you like but you can’t exactly share your vulnerabilities. Someone’s strengths and accomplishments of course impress me but those awkward truths, all the sad, embarrassing, melancholy and anxious part’s that place us in great danger draw away the facade of life and reveal an endearing and loving character hiding below the surface in each of us. M.

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Being goth doesn't mean you’re a depressant and melancholy is not just about me but humanity in general. Melancholy helps one to become more compassionate, forgiving and kinder because even goths yearn for a brighter future
French girl duo of the ethereal, dark-wave and neoclassical variety. Heavenly voices combined with dense synth and real string’s, classical guitar, piano and timpani/cymbal swell’s. Perfect for deep night’s candle flicker and Baudelaire.
Yesterday being record store day was the perfect excuse to stroll through aisles accompanied by the sound of various people flicking through albums, fun house music and a few band’s performing through various shop’s and venues. I picked up Chet Baker Sings which is perfect for Sunday afternoon lounging and quiet evening reverie.
Marianne Stokes - Death and the Maiden
I saw this work in the symbolist section in one of the numerous Parisian gallery’s. I wrote down names but I lost some of my notes so thanks Grimes.
I had the loveliest weekend being driven and walking through the Dandenong ranges with so many absolutely gorgeous locations and trails to explore with the best of company. I was going to link some Alcest in an attempt to capture those feels of fleeting beauty and the natural world but as I was moving room’s today, I unearthed an old split my band did ages ago and realised I had already written a track themed on watery sky’s, green canopy’s and running streams. It’s pretty weird listening to my 21 year old self trying to make the most hazy and romanticised shoegaze but he was all about the ethereal. Now day’s I can’t get out of the city all too much so I often experience some urban ennui however, those moment’s spent in green with fresh air and birdsong remind me of how truely wonderful, enriching and life affirming the natural world is.

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Album: Autumn Poetry (Best Of/Compilation)
Every year as Autumn clings to Summer’s glory I reflect back and listen to Autumn Poetry. I’m reminded of how much of a romantic I thought I was and how excited I was to become apart of a burgeoning yet super niche music scene. Since then there’s no more super rare tape releases, failed label’s and dodgy Chinese pressing’s but the genre is moving forward beyond the recreationist and the quiet elitist. Morose’s work is arguably nothing spectacular, it’s a compilation of lo-fi demo’s and maybe not the best example of the genre. However, it’s nice to remember that time when crossing black metal with shoegaze created some of the most emotive and beautiful music that was generally too serious and heavy for indie kid’s and far too pretty and romantic for metal heads. This tack’s fleeting beauty captures the season a yearning and a romance.
one of my favorite songs !!! ...enjoy!
Here’s another underrated and sadly relatively unknown modern music jem. The Pax Cecilia were a bunch of emo/screamo kids who grew up and discovered 20th century classical music and combining these element’s together made a very unique and conceptual project. Their main release Blessed are the Bonds is a very ambitious album and constantly moves into new territory while still maintaining a cohesive atmosphere. The traditional band instrumentation is integrated into an orchestral sound by the heavy use of real string arrangements and classical piano part’s. It play’s like a continuous piece consisting of eight long track’s over sixty minutes of music. The breadth of textures and moods this album covers with it’s ambient wind sounds, sustained and infrequent piano chords and varied vocal’s is astounding. Way before successful bands like Radiohead and NIN jumped on the bandwagon (LOL) and made headlines for offering free downloads, these guy’s offered this album up for free or with a donation to anyone who gave them their mailing address. They mailed out tangible CD’s with unique artwork and packaging. I know just how wonderful the physical release is because when came across it in a second hand store last year for 10 buck’s my jaw dropped. You can download it for free from their website.
Hunger with Knut Hamsun
Charles Bukowski called him the greatest writer who ever lived while Hemingway dug his Nordland drama’s more than enough to recommend them to Scott Fitzgerald. Hamsun’s work was apparently a crucial Influence on 20th century literature with admiration from the like’s of Mann to Hesse. In particular, the acute sense of isolation in Hunger is something that resonates deeply within Kafka’s work. Hunger is the second Hamsun novel I’ve read. The first being Growth of the Soil, is a Norwegian rural drama about a man’s simple life with a very romantic theme of Nature. This work earned Hamsun a Nobel prize which he later mailed to Goebbels of all people but more on that later. It was interesting going from Growth of the Soil to Hunger because of the use of different writing styles, opposite tone and theme’s. Hunger rest’s more in the existentialist novel camp with the like’s of Nausea, Note’s from Underground etc. Put simply Hunger is about hunger in a broad sense. Moral, spiritual, social, romantic hunger and the miserable disintegrated, gaunt, loss of hair and die kind of hunger. Set in late 19th-century Kristiania now Oslo, this book depicts a struggling writer and his relentless physical and mental decline in a constantly heightened and at times hysterical state. The unnamed character moves through the city often in complete poverty attempting to write in order to make money while more often than not, being physically unable to write due to a lack of money and basic human necessities including shelter often going multiple day’s at a stretch without anything to sustain himself. This vicious cycle is fueled by rage because he can't make the life he want’s to live a reality and yet he is afraid of losing this anger and to admit defeat by throwing away his dreams. Something we can all relate to unless you're obscenely rich, is that horrifying moment you experience when you realise that in order to live you have to exchange your time and freedom for money and although more money could mean more freedom, the risk of losing your ideals or dreams is under constant threat. Even though often near death, the character never dismisses the suffering of the unfortunate and disadvantaged people around him and prides himself upon his morals and empathy. While the character’s writing and purpose is intended to help his community with moral and philosophical musing’s, if he could only earn his keep by working another socially beneficial job say in the medical industry for an example, he would be able to use his education to help others (which is something he want’s to do) while simultaneously funding his own artistic efforts (Much like Chekhov). Obviously Hamsun paralleled his own morality and experience as a struggling writer with the character in Hunger which is weird when in later life he transitioned through a national socialist into a full blown facist. The Character from Hunger’s interactions with various citizens is where the writing becomes a very funny form of commentary and although tragic, the scene’s are something fundamentally human and relatable. Hamsun uses these scene’s to explore the social conditioning and guise we use to keep up appearances and conceal our real feeling’s. While the monologue take’s a very sinister and misanthropic tone, the character never blames anyone for his circumstances and refuses to play a victim. Even when he's wallowing in a sea of self pity, self hatred and despair, the character owns up to his own failing’s often disregarding allowances any sane reader would rely on for a saving excuse. He is far too stubborn, never seeking and usually rejecting charity. Momentarily it seemed that romantic love might save him but even this redemption was destroyed by his sheer poverty, embarrassment and pride. One of the reasons Hamsun’s work may be so obscured is the fact that he was a Nazi sympathizer even spending time with Hitler and Goebbels. If not for his personal political view’s and company I think he would be a national Norwegian treasure much like Tolstoy is for Russia. At least we can separate Hamsun's work from his political views and enjoy it for the wonderful art that it is. I’m going to end it here, M.
City Noise with scarling.
When I first heard scarling. I was 18-19 years old playing in a band and obsessed with The Cure. My life has changed drastically more than I could ever have imagined but some thing's of course remain the same. Reflecting back, scarling. have two of the best, unique and most important dark pop albums that I'll ever return to. Since the explosion and now decline of the music nerd and elitist blogosphere, shoegazer territory is often a predictable, monotonous and trend of a musical environment. scarling. however provided a much needed element of urgency and candlelit despair that other modern gazer's lack or simply can not fathom.
The noisy Siamese Dream fuzz  can seem abrasive and tumultuous while the layered and hazy textures are used to create an element of sinister beauty. Due to their pop sensibilities the  arrangements offer much reply value and some killer hooks through swirls and moody whale call's.
Jessicka's vocals range from a simple lovely pop sweetness to painful goth-rock moan's and screams of anguish. Although her performance is honest and genuine, she sounds unaware of just how powerful yet feminine she is simultaneously.
Like early Cure releases and Joy Division, isolation is a major lyrical theme even within close relationships with sly and sarcastic insights into modernity in similar vein to David Lynch style themes. But don’t just take my word because Robert Smith described them as making "dark, desperate, chaotic, gorgeous pop music, the sound of the end of the world". M. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mo9ofnvp39E https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yc7hMWdG3Pg
Earl grey and books....Nausea
I’ve wanted to write something here for a while at least to consolidate my own thoughts but most of the time my arm’s dangle while leaning back in my crappy spinning chair until my back ache's and I resign myself to another activity. So here goes nothing.
I finished reading Sartre’s Nausea early today over a cup of earl grey bathing in the glare of morning light while my dog quietly snores because I’m all about aesthetics. Nausea like many existentialist novels, takes place inside the main character's head through the introspection of first person narrative also commonly known in Japan as the ‘I novel’ style of writing. This style of writing allows the reader a direct link into the character's personality and enables us to use the author’s world view and expression as a tool for coming to term's with our own existence and perceiving the world around us.
Nausea is a kind of essay in the form of fictional diary entries which feel completely genuine and honest. The character Roquentin struggles being overwhelmed with an intolerable awareness of his own existence. This intolerance is utterly crushing, mind-blowing and also left me feeling nauseous.
With Nausea, Sartre provides us with access to a range of interactions, situations and emotions by reconciling to the fact that we are a lot weirder than we're actually allowed to be and the world itself is devoid of any inherit meaning. Through Roquentin's analysis we explore the joys of being fundamentally free and the suffocating problems for purpose, meaning and the anguish of making it up as we go along. Having said all this I need to comment on the enjoyment Sartre's beautiful and captivating writing which at times can be very funny. I felt that Sartre somehow understands me. It's weird when you're holding a now shoddy paperback filled with the thought's of a dead Frenchman and finding some of your own thoughts in among those of a fictional character yet fellow Superfluous man.
Other than that I’m halfway through No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai so maybe I’ll write again soon. M.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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"Winter" by the Japanese - American musician Caroline Lufkin. Lyrics: If we hold onto each other Life would be so sweet If we hold onto each other Life would...
One of the first self produced pop albums I got very heavily into during my early 20′s when I wanted everything to be beautiful and shoegaze. Happy valentines day. lurv M.
I’m enjoying more Bukowski after slogging it with Date’s Inferno. It’s refreshing to read something accessible and simple but well written again. It’s not as depressing, dark or hilariously gross as say ‘factotum’, but is still as cunning and sad with it’s critique and expression of low socio-economic backgrounds, low-life life style’s, relationship’s and especially soul crushing dead end job’s. Still there is always an element of hope as the the pulp hero strive‘s for stable romance and meaning through writing. I got my copy for 6 buck’s killing time at the book grocer however it’s missing section 18 of part II so maybe that’s why it was so cheap.