fragmentes

7

Make It Or Break It

American artist James Bullough has created a series of beautiful paintings of the human body which shows the use of a specific technique to reflect pain. The artist believes that pain transcends our body and is something much more than being a physical sensation. His artworks are like a connecting thread, showing the world how psyche is in symbiosis with the physique.

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theatlantic.com
Marie Kondo and the Privilege of Clutter
The Japanese author’s guide to “tidying up” promises joy in a minimalist life. For many, though, particularly the children of refugees and other immigrants, it may not be so simple.
By Arielle Bernstein

That NYT article references this piece on how minimalist taste clashes with the lived experiences of people living in diaspora, which opens up to a larger discussion on the politics of archiving and collecting objects as fragments of residual life 

It made me think of a few artists who’ve adopted visual clutter as a signature aesthetic, like Pepón Osorio:

 (“New York 1993″, New Museum)  

or Njideka Akunyili Crosby:

(“Before Now After (Mama, Mummy and Mamma)”, 2015, Whitney Museum)

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Nemesis!Chat AU (AKA Enemies AU) [complete]

MariChat Week [complete]

Winter Sonata AU [ongoing]

Hannah Montana AU

Single Dadrien AU

Other

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In the 1800s, medical journals started recording instances of people’s teeth straight-up exploding. To read the accounts, it’s no wonder that Dr. King Schultz went into bounty hunting. Shooting bad guys must have seemed like a relaxing hobby compared to wondering if his patients’ teeth were going to shrapnelize themselves into his face.

The first recorded case occurred in 1817 with a reverend who, after days of suffering untold agony from toothache, experienced: “… all at once a sharp crack, like a pistol shot, bursting his tooth to fragments, [which] gave him instant relief. At this moment he turned to his wife, and said, ‘My pain is all gone.’ He went to bed, and slept soundly all that day and most of the succeeding night; after which he was rational and well.”

This was the template for every case of exploding tooth syndrome (as we’re now calling it). Victims would suffer from a tremendous toothache, followed by their mouth detonating from the inside out like baby aliens were inside. In 1830, a Mrs. Letita D reported an aching tooth “terminating by bursting with report,” while a dentist in 1871 reported an occurrence of ETS so violent that the patient was knocked to the floor and deafened. Several similar cases later, however, and the condition vanished, never to be seen again.

Exploding Teeth: 6 Scary Diseases That Were Lost To History

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Dragon Quest VII for 3DS- ‘Discover Battle’ trailer

hannitachristina  asked:

Depression has made me feel so heavy lately. Anxiety has made words hard and shaking easy. And this whole adult game we're all playing is exhausting and not very fun. I've had writer's block like crazy and my words have felt all blocked up but your lyrics have understood and calmed and been transparent and that means a lot when you just feel worn out. Thanks for being genuine, Debby.

Dude, I see you.

First know you’re alone in this, and it’s not forever.
Everyone with depression has their own experience, I see beauty in a narrowing down and a change of pace for you. When thoughts won’t work their way into sentences, take note of the fragments that ring in you. Spending time on one thought can be so good for people who feel and think deeply. Take breaks but don’t stop.

You’re good. You’re ok. It’ll all make sense someday.

What if Gilderoy Lockhart’s autobiography post-obliviation, Who am I?, is actually a masterpiece? Hear me out: he has been obliviated but has the instinct to write write write, still about himself, but he must have troubles with his memory in all sorts of ways on top of not being able to recollect most of who he had been before his Memory Charm backfired. The text of that book must be fragmented, the second half of it might not remember the first half, he might forget to finish stories he started, anectodes may be muddled, and because he doesn’t fully remember his own life, he may get sidetracked to talk about his present state of mind at times. But then hang on, what if Lockhart is solely responsible for modernism’s appearance on the magical literary scene? His new work, written in a state of amnesia, may have been his masterpiece, his legacy, a groundbreaking new literary style that makes art rather than just entertains, like his earlier works were meant to. He inadvertantly changes the face of wizarding literature and he may not even remember writing it, really. It would be the most ironic thing if this is what Lockhart’s true legacy was, when he isn’t forcing it and isn’t narrativizing other people’s achievements, if this is what he would be remembered for, for making art where narrative authority shatters rather than for his popular fiction.

Lass uns Freunde bleiben #1

Meine erste wirkliche Beziehung hatte ich mit 18. Davor pubertär verwirrte und verwirrende Erlebnisse die weder Fisch noch Fleisch, dafür aber Scheiße waren.
Sebastian war großartig. Er kochte mir Nachts um 3 Spargelsuppe nur weil ich im Halbschlaf murmelte, dass ich Spargelsuppe mag. Männer die Nachts aus dem Stehgreif und ohne wirklich vorhandene Zutaten Suppen kochen, sollte man behalten. Ich behielt Sebastian 8 Jahre. Wir trennten uns respektvoll und mehr oder minder im gegenseitigen Einvernehmen. Kein Drama, kein Streit, wir hatten uns einfach auseinander entwickelt. Er half mir meine neue Wohnung einzurichten und ich arbeite weiter in seiner Firma. Die rosa Post-Beziehungs-Wattewolke nahm jedoch ein jähes Ende als Sebastian seine jetzige Frau kennenlernte, und diese mir ihren großen Bruder ey, und ihre ganze Verwandtschaft ey, auf den Hals hetzen wollte. Auf meine Bitte seine Holde zurückzupfeifen und mal zu zeigen wer die Hosen anhat wurde nie reagiert. Totenstille. Seit dem sind knapp 13 Jahre vergangen und alles was ich noch um drei Ecken weiß, ist, dass er  geheiratet, und mittlerweile zwei Kinder von “Ey isch klatsch disch du Schlampe” hat. Meinen Glückwunsch. Ich vermute er macht ihr Nachts um 3 Mettigel.

Danach lief irgendwas schief. Und zwar so richtig.
Markus hatte genau das, was ich an Sebastian in den letzten Jahren vermisst hatte. Rebellisch, ungekämmt, frei, anders. Kein Anzug, keine Betonfrisur, keine standardisierten Spaziergänge am Sonntag Nachmittag, keine Zeitung die mir schweigend beim Frühstück gegenüber saß. Das dieser Herr unter seinem ungekämmtem Haar völlig einen an der Schüssel hatte, merkte ich zu spät. Nicht nett oder skurril einen an der Schüssel, sondern dieser Mann war psychisch krank, und zog mich mit in seinen Strudel aus Bipolarität und Borderlinestörung. Er isolierte mich von meinen Freunden, redete alles schlecht was ich tat oder nur dachte, ich war gleichzeitig das Allerletzte und die Mutter seiner ungeborenen Kinder. Er war Winzer und brachte mir jedes mal eine 12er Kiste Wein von seinem elterlichen Weingut mit. Wenn ich davon nur ein Glas trank, fand ich den Wein schlecht, wenn ich davon mehr als ein Glas trank, nannte er mich Alkoholikerin, die unter der Brücke enden würde und meinen dürren Arsch verkaufen müsste für billigen Fusel. Er demontierte mich, systematisch und schleichend. Er setzte mich bei einem gemeinsamen Urlaub Nachts am Arsch der Welt im Schwarzwald aus, weil er aus einer Laune heraus entschieden hatte mit dem Rauchen aufzuhören. Ich sollte ebenfalls aufhören. Jetzt und sofort. Ich sah das anders.
Am Ende zerstörte, natürlich ich, die Beziehung mit meiner Unfähigkeit auf ihn einzugehen. Ich ließ mich freiwillig mit einem Nervenzusammenbruch in eine Klinik einweisen und suchte monatelang die Schuld tatsächlich bei mir. Schön blöd.

Frank lief mir fast zwei Jahre später in einem Aufbau-Studiengang über den Weg. Wir arbeiteten oft zusammen, verstanden uns blendend und nach einer von diesen Studentenpartys waren wir nicht mehr nur Studienkollegen. Es folgten ein paar aufregende Wochen doch hätte es mir zu denken geben sollen, dass er darauf bestand mit getrennten Autos an die Uni zu fahren und gern davon faselte, dass er seine große Liebe Katrin verloren hätte. Schön blöd again? Ja, schön blöd again.
So richtig schön blöd wurde es dann bei einer Studien-Exkursion. Der ganze Kurs zeltete an einem Stausee irgendwo in der gottverdammten Eifel. Doch Frank fand nicht den Weg in mein Zelt, sondern in das einer Kommilitonin. Direkt neben meinem Zelt. Ich war also live dabei als der Kerl, mit dem ich keine zwei Stunden vorher heftig im Wald hinter einem Baum rumgeknutscht hatte, die breitärschige und pferdegesichtige Christine vögelte. Die Geräuschkulisse erinnerte mich an meinen letzten Besuch im Zoo. Tiger? Gorilla? Unklar. Leider bin ich irgendwie zu sehr mit Harmonie gepudert und anstelle die Heringe aus dem Zelt zu ziehen, bin ich nachts in einem eiskalten Stausee schwimmen gegangen um den Geräuschen entgehen. Ich bin sogar so sehr mit Harmonie gepudert, dass ich keinen Aufstand fabriziert habe, sondern tatsächlich versucht habe das erwachsen und cool für alle zu klären. Wir studierten schließlich zusammen und mussten uns jeden Tag sehen. Die Reaktion war jedoch nur, dass Frank und Christine bei jeder sich bietenden Gelegenheit sich wild und öffentlich befummelten. Das neue Traumpaar. Ich habe mein Studium darauf hin mehrere Monate auf Eis gelegt, weil ich auf dem Weg zur Uni mehrfach in die S-Bahn und den Bus kotzen musste. Diagnose: Panikattacken. Zwei Flaschen Rotwein  pro Abend taten ihr übriges. Vielleicht hätte ich zusätzlich etwas Spargelsuppe essen sollen..

to be continued 

8

27 July 1916 - Letter to Edith from The Somewhere

Fred is still up at the guns and getting little sleep when he writes this late-July letter to Edith. He mentions some recent action described as, “Hell was poppin’” - a term Fred states was regularly used at the front lines. 

Fred outlines how communication cable is laid to Edith:
“The working party [is] digging a trench 6 ft. deep. Each man has a six foot length. Then after the cable is in, the trench has to be filled in again. Now in daytime it would be simple tho’ strenuous task, but at night there are disadvantages. First night we got back at 3 a.m. and last night about 2 a.m." 

Fred notes that his brother Frank is now a fully qualified pilot helping to bring planes into France. Fred also writes that Dick Crummy is recovering from injuries in a convalescent hospital, news received via Fred’s brother Arthur. We also hear that Fred had sent Edith a copy of "Fragments from France” (available on Project Gutenberg and on The Internet Archive) and a book of poems. He relays his happiness that Edith has been able to read so much during her summer.

The letter was censored by J. E. Read.

thatgirlwhohidesherfeeling  asked:

Um I think this is a uncomfortable ask but if monsters are made by magic would you still need two partners? Another question is what made you decide to have kids?

* Yes, to give life to a monster, you need two different SOULs, the parents SOULs. 

* What happens here, is that a tiny fragment of the parents SOUL is taken to form another little SOUL. The parent’s SOUL will naturally heal over time so there is really no risk besides a very slight reduction on HP. 

* The amount of magic it requires to give birth is quite big. So the fragments can be “stored” in the SOUL of one of them to nurture at a later time, though it can be tricky if one doesn't notice it. Believe me, it has happened. 

* Once the nurturing begins, there is not stopping the SOUL from forming into a monster after a period of time.

* One monster can in theory give life on his own, but… that could be devastating to both parent and child, especially because the fragment taken would be bigger and the magic needed would be exponentially higher. It hasn't happen before, like I said, it’s just a theory.

——

* My wife and I wanted to have kids when the war ended. A very hopeful dream, and a promise I wanted to keep.

I’m literally broke/Commissions

So I just paid a small fragment of my student bill for the first semester of college.

I now have 500 dollars in my bank account.

So, basically, I need to make more money or I can’t help my parents pay my bill (if you can even call my small contribution help) or pay for food/books/a laptop that isn’t falling apart and may crap out at any moment/anything. I’m nannying and working a job in retail, but commissions would help me greatly. I’m going to try taking longer shifts at work/more shifts, but I have no idea how that’ll work because my new job cut our hours too so it’s all a shot in the dark. I’m a bit panicked right now and incredibly upset at how things have turned out financially with all the work I put in, and quite honestly, if there was a way out of life other than death, I’d be on that train in ten minutes. I really need the help, minions. If you can commission (I understand not all of you can or would want to), please do. It doesn’t have to be elaborate, it doesn’t have to be a large sum of money, any little thing helps. Details for commissioning are below. Please consider.

WRITING

Prices by paragraph do NOT include dialogue breaks.

Short (minimum of three detailed paragraphs, maximum of five paragraphs): $10
Medium (minimum of six paragraphs, maximum of seven paragraphs): $15
Long (minimum of eight paragraphs, maximum of ten): $20
Continued imagine series: $5 in addition to original length price for the continued imagine. Specifying that the series is intended to be continued will charge $5 dollars in addition to the original length price, but will ensure another installment is written. If no request is given after, the default length is short.
Personal Imagine (replacing Y/n with a name) is an additional $3.

POETRY
Short (minimum one stanza, maximum two. Don’t worry, they’ll be lengthy): $5
Medium (minimum three stanzas, maximum four): $10
Long (minimum four, maximum eight): $15

AUDIO RECORDING

To have any writing or poetry read aloud by yours truly is an additional $5. An audio file will be added to the start or end of the piece.

Writing I have already completed for commission can be seen linked below as well as on the “Commissions” page.

WRITING

- “Current” - “The Riverlands” - “Adaptation” - “Taking Rides From Strangers Never Did So Much Good” - “The Unexpected” - “Whisked Away” - “The Dare” - “Breaking Tradition” - “The Light” -“Strange Beginnings”

POETRY

- “The Liberation” - “The Ballad Of An Unseen Shift”

If you are interested in commissioning, please be able to message me OFF anon and submit payment through a PayPal account. Thank you.