oh my god


watching Inuyasha again for the first time in 6 or 7 years was crazy. All the nostalgia just came pouring in and I couldn’t help but think about how my life was like when I was really little. That was my first anime, and how I discovered it a lot of shows in the first place. It was also the show that made me determined to make it as an awesome artist some day. 

I remember staying up every Friday to watch it with my little sister and being super stoked for every episode. I think I still have the movies somewhere in my room..

idk just rambling I guess. But that show does hold a very special spot in my heart.

I discovered that what’s really important for a creator isn’t what we vaguely define as inspiration or even what it is we want to say, recall, regret, or rebel against. No, what’s important is the way we say it. Art is all about craftsmanship. Others can interpret craftsmanship as style if they wish. Style is what unites memory or recollection, ideology, sentiment, nostalgia, presentiment, to the way we express all that. It’s not what we say but how we say it that matters.
—  Federico Fellini

anonymous asked:

The digital world with little monsters everywhere. ... join my team let's fuse together?

Digimon? Dude i remember tamers was the shit. i gotta get back on that. Ride the nostalgia train all the way from Digimon tamers to Ultimate Muscle then the scenic route back to Shaman King

The best part of it all is how much it hurt. How much it doesn’t hurt now. How I feel pangs of nostalgia yet intense appreciation for the ways we all just kept living our lives. I mean that’s kind of all you can ask for, right? We all just keep going and eventually everyone forgets the embarrassing shit you did. How obvious you made it that you were so very lost. And then you end up here and somehow you are at peace.


I had the extreme pleasure of seeing an acoustic set of Kevin Martin of Candlebox last night at the Old Rock House in St. Louis. The night was filled of so much nostalgia from the music, the stories shared all the way down to the fashion people are still wearing from the grunge era. To say it was an amazing night would be selling it short. Getting the chance at the end of the night to meet and talk with Kevin made the night complete. I would re-live that night a million times over.

Classic Flash Gordon

One of my favorite sites is Strange Kids Club.  The site is run by Rondal and is a kaleidoscope of colors, nostalgia and nerd fandom.  It covers the gamut from the eighties all the way up to the pop culture of today.  One of the best features is Monday Morning Video Mania which unearths scary, wacky, cool and arcane videos and short films from the depths of the internet.

Today Rondal and company debuted a killer animated short from animator Rob Pratt who’s style is reminiscent of the Fleischer Superman cartoons of old (he has produced at least one of those as well).  The short features a nice voice cast and amazing sensibilities.   Although it isn’t strictly “horror”  I think this one’s worth your time.

Strange Kids Club is a daily dose of adolescent enthusiasm for your inner child. An online hang out for geeks, freaks and nostalgic nerds alike; the site features articles on video games, comics, unbelievably cool toys, exclusive interviews, movie reviews and more served up strange– just the way we like it!

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Saying Goodbye

Life always goes on and it feels weird to look back to the start of it all. Where it all began. Arriving to the start of my junior year last September, luggage in hand, and greeted by Kat, one of my best friends, with a hug. It felt more simple back then, but I think that’s what they all say. It probably was just as complicated but nostalgia has a way of giving you a set of rose coloured glasses for free, complete with a sense of loss of what was and will never be again. You still feel happy about it though. Sad…but happy. 

It was a rough year for both of us. Family deaths, break ups, the kind of petty drama you thought you left behind in high school but apparently your friends think otherwise, and you’re left standing there and wondering how it got to be this way. Old friends vanish from the picture and new friends introduce themselves with a smile. Many nights were spent sitting on a mattress, talking about nothing but everything at the same time, laptop open playing music softly as we shared verbal and nonverbal communication. Many nights were also spent in our separate rooms, both of us being mutually thankful for the fact that the other needed alone time as well, as we silently poked each other through Facebook into the late hours of the night. 

It was a weird year. We were both different back then. We’re different now. It’s not something that I can easily describe but I can feel it. For whatever reason it makes me feel uneasy and heavy. I’m not sure I like the feeling much, but then again, I don’t think I would exchange it for anything else. I told Kat that’s how transition periods are. Awkward and awful, but needed in order to move on whether we like it or not. 

This was Kats’ senior year and my junior year. We’re not sure when we’ll be able to see each other again in person. She doesn’t live in New York and her intership placement isn’t exactly close either. Neither of us have a car, or enough money but we’re both wishful. She did a good job at not crying while we said goodbye but I’m worried she might cry once she reads the card I gave her. I don’t know what I would have done without her this year. Out of everyone else in my life, she’s been the one who never walked back out. Despite all the crap she had going on she still made sure I was ok with my crap. She gave me a hug when I needed it, listened to my late night rambling and offered advice when I asked. I owe her…I owe her a lot. 

It feels weird to say goodbye and move on. It makes you think of the past and I’ve never been one to dwell on what has already happened. I’m not quite sure how to handle it and I’m not even graduating yet. I’m sort of a sap in that regard. So much has happened here and I’m not what to do with myself yet. But I know I have to keep moving forward. It’s the only way to go. And tomorrow will be another day for us all to do just that.