bubbledrivercomix

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When Life Gives You Madness, Make Masterpieces

Oh, choosing a favorite historical figure is like trying to pick a favorite grain of sand . Sure, they all look the same from a distance, but get close enough and each one has its own gritty personality. But if I had to narrow it down. It would be a close one between Van Gogh and Kahlo . Well, let’s just say it’s a bit like choosing between a starry night and a fiery self-portrait .Both luminous…

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‘Love is an organic thing. It rots and softens.’

Words by Clementine Von Radics

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My first crush

Oh, my first crush? Buckle up, because this is a tale as colorful and chaotic as my own brain , and trust me, that’s saying something. At the tender age of five, was when my first crush was a cartoon character, which, if you think about it, was probably my first sign that I was destined to be a weeaboo in the making. Yes, I was that kid, the one who somehow managed to develop a complex attachment…

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Wishing

There’s a quiet, almost intangible longing that drifts through my thoughts whenever I consider the myriad of places I want to visit. It’s as if each destination whispers its own story, waiting patiently for me to listen, to truly listen beneath the surface of bustling streets, rolling hills, or calm, icy vistas. I find myself drifting, not just in the physical sense but in a kind of wistful…

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Being like a cactus in a desert

Well, if I had to pick a favorite thing about myself, I’d probably have to go with my extraordinary talent for surviving chaos with a kind of dry, almost sarcastic resilience , like a cactus in the desert that’s been through too many droughts but still manages to stand tall and prickly. I mean, after 33 years of navigating the world as an autistic woman who was only officially diagnosed at 32,…

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Finally free from deadlines only answering to my muse

So, how do I want to retire? Well, let’s see. Given my illustrious history of being diagnosed late in life at 32, having navigated the treacherous waters of an eight-year stint at a job that made me feel like a hamster on a wheel with no cheese in sight, I’d say I’ve earned some serious retirement planning cred ,though, admittedly, most of it is just a series of wild guesses and wishful…

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The Legendary Leather Fortress: Protecting My Secrets and Sanity Since the Dawn of Time

Let’s talk about the oldest thing I own that I still use daily , because honestly, if I had to pick something more enduring than a stubborn streak or my own patience, it would be this: a massive, thick, leather-bound diary. Not just any diary, mind you. This thing is the literary equivalent of a time capsule, a fortress of my past, my thoughts, my frustrations, and the occasional fleeting spark…

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The Hero’s Journey: From Toxic Workplace to Couch Conqueror

Alright, buckle up, because I’m about to take you on a rollercoaster ride through one of my favorite moments , though “favorite” might be a generous term given the circumstances. It’s a story that’s long, winding, and sprinkled with just enough sarcasm to keep it interesting. Picture this: It’s a quiet, unremarkable Tuesday , except for the fact that I had just resigned from an eight-year stint…

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4/8(wed)☔️

筍ご飯 春の飛竜頭 味玉子 小松菜の出汁浸し 秋刀魚の山椒煮

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The Toxic Job That Fueled My Passion for Surviving (Barely)

Oh, what am I passionate about? Well, let me count the ways, since apparently that’s what we’re supposed to do when asked about our deepest interests , like we’re on some sort of revealing game show where the prize is… understanding, I suppose. Spoiler: I don’t think I’ve ever won that, but hey, I keep trying. First off, I’m passionately devoted to storytelling, writing stories, drawing my…

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The oldest trick in the book. Don't fall for it. Credit: @ourrevolution

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greta was time's person of the year a few years ago. she was adored by all liberal world leaders and parties. and when she learnt about people's struggle under occupation and colonialism, she stood in solidarity with them . she now stands with palestine and armenia and kashmir and every oppressed person in the world. she could have been rich as fuck by simply remaining as a climate activist. yet she chose to do the right thing. i love her for her integrity.

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Eternal Summer: Because Who Needs Variations When You Can Have Endless Humidity?

Oh, choosing a favorite season in Singapore is almost as pointless as trying to pick a favorite grain of sand on a beach that’s been smoothed by millennia of the same relentless, unchanging summer sun. Because, you see, Singapore doesn’t do seasons. No dramatic foliage changes, no snowflakes softly drifting down, no crisp autumn air to make you regret your decision to wear flip-flops all year…

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Forget Private Jets—My Private Sanctuary of Uninterrupted Creativity Is All I Need

Oh, what luxury could I possibly cling to in this vast, chaotic universe? Well, if you’re expecting some grand, opulent answer—think champagne, private jets, or a never-ending supply of artisan coffee, sorry to disappoint. The truth is, my one luxury is painfully mundane, yet undeniably vital: Uninterrupted, guilt-free, deep immersion into my own creative sanctuary. That means time to write…

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The Quiet Rebellion: Living Boldly in a World Too Loud

If humans had taglines, mine might be something like: “Quietly surviving, fiercely dreaming.” It’s a little bleak, perhaps, but honest. Because that’s what it’s been, surviving in the shadows of a world that often feels too loud, too overwhelming, too indifferent. I’m a 33-year-old woman, diagnosed late in life with autism, a revelation that didn’t come with fireworks but with quiet revelations .…

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i. there's this video of a guy dancing on his tiptoes. i will begrudgingly admit the song is kind of catchy actually. i don't think it's the worst song i've ever heard. he seems passionate about it. but it is embarrassing, how he's dancing.

ii. you know where this story is going, unfortunately, and so do i.

iii. three weeks ago i had to drag half a dead rabbit out of my dog's mouth. i was just recently discussing how cruel things feel lately. that the way the world is shifting feels mean. three days ago, a random woman rolled down her window to snap at me because she missed her turn. this is now routine.

iv. 11 years ago in october, i made a post about how we shouldn't make fun of people for doing brave, vulnerable things. it has over 400k notes. people - at the time - seemed to generally agree with me. we have all felt shy and insecure when we share an intimate part of ourselves. we have heard someone at a concert say "that's fucking embarrassing" and said to ourselves - oh, this person is unsafe to be vulnerable in front of. we have said i can't act like that in public. we have left our art and passion in the dark. i think there will never be enough graveyard space for the art we have killed because what if others shame me for it.

v. the thing i was bullied for in high school was because i was a "predatory lesbian." a popular girl i'd literally never spoken to just decided she didn't like me and announced i was "stalking" her. to this day i have no idea what motivated this - i think i was just shy and poor and awkward and ugly. the perfect target. what they don't really ever show in movies is how quickly it moves, how suddenly strange people in the hallways are attacking you about it. they also don't show you that the bullies get this strange ... glee out of it. like, it's fun for them. it's enrichment. everyone else is in on the joke. suck it up, kid.

vi. so far, from what i have seen, creators that stand up for the musician all seem to have the same story: when i asked why we're bullying a random guy, people actually got mad that i asked. i've had similar things happen to me when i ask for us to be less comfortable with our anonymous cruelty. when an internet stranger says "be kind, it saves lives" - people find it funny to say fuck you i hope everyone kills themselves. pages and pages of people saying the same bullshit. sitting in their little caves, eating their own humor. it's just genuinely exhausting. the natural endpoint of "cringe culture" is that even kindness is cringe-worthy.

vii. loneliness is an epidemic. but where are you going to make your community? call your representative. go back to bed about it.

viii. due to how i was raised, i am always confused by cruelty. i understand the american isolationist belief "i can do whatever i want" - sure. but why wouldn't you want to be kind? i have lived too many bad things. i cannot be the epicenter of someone else's bad dream.

ix. it's just that if we were going to bully someone relentlessly, why is it never the healthcare CEOs. why isn't it the fascists. why isn't it, like, someone who you could at least argue "deserves" it. why is it always just some guy in socks singing a pretty mid song? or a person that doesn't look like you, just, like existing.

x. it's just that i think people enjoy doing it. they want to do it because they get some kind of masturbatory release from it - like a shrug or a splinter, they all seem to say the same thing - come on, it's funny.

xi. the world is sometimes beautiful, and sometimes you make something. the world is sometimes terrible, and you are worried they won't accept what your hands can wring. you open the instagram comments and they're still saying all sorts of shit to just - like - a normal guy. and some part of you thinks: if that was me. good lord. if that was me i'd -

xii. somewhere there is a graveyard. someone is already burying their hopes and dreams.