Jarboe had the unique ability of being able to express Swans’s most depraved and evil aspects of the Filth/Cop era while also being able to contribute to the more earnest ideas shown in White Light, Children of God, etc. A one of a kind artist.
genuine question how do i sleep at night knowing that the earth i love so much is burning and there’s nothing i can do to change it and the people who can just don’t care
they’re eating and raping and blowing up kids irreversibly destroying the world for profit and I have to study right now to get a job in a job market that basically doesn’t exist that will just pay me scraps while the rest of the money I earned lines the pockets of the rich
“That’s all anybody can do right now. Live. Hold out. Survive. I don’t know whether good times are coming back again. But I know that won’t matter if we don’t survive these times.”
-Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Sower
The biggest heartbreak has been watching us sail right past the point of no return for catastrophic climate change without even slowing down.
We didn't even really try.
Yes, a cashier at Walmart, a delivery driver at Amazon, or a waiter at KFC, should be able to afford rent, groceries, and bills with their paycheck alone. That is exactly what jobs are for.
If the last 10 years have taught us anything, it's that karma isn't real. You can live an entire life being the worst person possible and suffer no real consequences. Hell, you're more likely to be rewarded.
I genuinely don’t understand how we are supposed to casually process that a glacier literally collapsed in Nepal, erasing 19 bridges and killing over 600 people, because the planet is too hot. And instead of stopping it, billionaires are building more data centres. Psychotic!
you’ll never believe this. i am 100% fine, just vibing on the couch and i opened my notes app to jot something down- i don’t recognize this note. something in my heart says somebody needs this.
absolutely batshit insane? Because I just don’t know if I can. But I have to try somehow. I truly believe the only thing I’m meant to do meaningful in my life is tell this story to the world.
There’s no light left in my eyes. I’m losing the will to live more and more every day. I promised myself I would stick around at least long enough to write this memoir about what happened to me last year but…I don’t know if it’s even worth it anymore.
How do you explain something that involves psychosis, toxic metabolic encephalopathy, reality, conspiracies, dying, not knowing what happened for an entire week of your life, visions of the end of the world, and try to make someone understand it all in a way that doesn’t sound