aj-capral

Latest Posts by aj-capral

thank you @ragesauceman on tiktok for this glorious meme template

I SWEAR THAT THIS IS LITERALLY CANON.

Love them😭

And still want to write fic..

This photoshoot is THE photoshoot

bro was so disappointed that dazai chose being gay with chuuya over him that went straight to tokyo to destroy his city and kill all his friends

Read somewhere today:

"People become writers, when nobody listens"

Does anyone else feel lonesome?

Not lonely. Not alone. Just... lonesome. Like you don't feel connected to anyone. Like you never feel that you will find anyone that understands you, that will see you truly, let alone someone who will even like you. You see friends everywhere, but you don't see yourself in their place, like that is not for you, like you're not made for that and that's not made for you. You see people having fun and laughing and dancing and getting drunk and falling in love and you just... don't feel that for yourself. Like you're not supposed to have that, like you can't because it's not for you and you're not for it.

Like you're supposed to be seeing all these beautiful things in the world but not experience them yourself. Like you want to experience so much, experience everything, but be overwhelmed by it so you don't do any of it.

Like you want to be everywhere and do everything, but you don't belong anywhere and can't do anything. Like you're not supposed to be here. Not in a self-deprecating way but in an incongruous way. You want to live you want to be alive, but you feel you're not supposed to be. Not here at least, not like this. Just a presence in the world, not an active member of it. Even your body doesn't feel like home, your face isn't a face you recognise, like you're not supposed to have either. Like you're just supposed to be.

Like you're supposed to observe, but not experience.

I hope you remember me. I hope you see something that reminds you of me. And I hope you smile and remember the memories we created together. And I hope your throat tightens up and it finally hits you. You never should have let me go. But you did anyways.

“I was looked at, but I wasn’t seen.”

-Albert Camus, “The Misunderstanding.”

i deserve nothing. i am nothing. all i do is make things worse.

if you don’t mind, what are some of your favorite soft mclennon moments?

JOHN: I used to try to get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, “Look, we don’t need these fuckin’ suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.” My little rebellion was to have my tie loose with the top button of my shirt undone. Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight. [x]

PAUL: There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.

The Times Profile of Paul McCartney - 1982 [x]

“And John and Paul thought back to the time they’d been in Paris before. Flat-broke, unable to afford a taxi, without funds for a decent meal. ‘Maybe we’ll buy the Eiffel Tower this time’, said John with a grin.”

“The Beatles in Paris.” Beatles Book Monthly Magazine No. 8 (March 1964). [x]

““Okay, okay,” I said, “don’t go on, John.” I felt a surge of embarrassment because my instrument was the cause of such hilarity. “Look guys, that’s enough. What have you two been doing while we’ve been struggling to get here? I hope you’ve done some practising and got the song list sorted out?” I was getting more and more annoyed as this episode was dragging on. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry Len. Paul and I have got it all sorted out. Haven’t we Paul? Paul! Paul! I said haven’t we Paul?” Paul McCartney looked up with a wry smile and paused. “Tonight will run just like clockwork. I am going to give the audience the best rendition of ‘Guitar Boogie’ they have ever heard this side of Garston.” “Hey, this is a new twist,” I said. “Paul just cracked a joke. He must have a sense of humour after all, John, shall we have him in the group?” John was enjoying the banter as ever. “Yeah, we’ll give him another try and if you don’t get it right this time, Jimmy,” Jimmy (James) was Paul’s first name, “then…” John waited to see the expression on Paul’s face. “Then we’ll,” again a pause, and by this time we were hanging on John’s next words, “then we’ll have to send him for some more guitar lessons!” Paul joined in the laughter and at that we were all back to normal.”

— Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]

“One of my great memories of John is from when we were having some argument. I was disagreeing and we were calling each other names. We let it settle for a second and then he lowered his glasses and he said: “It’s only me.” And then he put his glasses back on again. To me, that was John. Those were the moments when I actually saw him without the facade, the armour, which I loved as well, like anyone else. It was a beautiful suit of armour. But it was wonderful when he let the visor down and you’d just see the John Lennon that he was frightened to reveal to the world.” [x]

“Whatever bad things John said about me, he would also slip his glasses down to the end of his nose and say, ’I love you’. That’s really what I hold on to. That’s what I believe. The rest is showing off.” [x]

“I remember being shocked one day when John started worrying about how people would remember him when he was gone. It was an incredibly vulnerable thing for him to come out with. I said to him then, ‘They’ll remember you as a fucking genius, because that’s what you are. But, you won’t give a shit because you’ll be up there, flying across the universe.’” [x]

“If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him?”  “In bed.” — Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998. [x]

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

— September 26, 1997, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle” by Steve Richards [x]

“We were recording the other night, and I just wasn’t there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other alot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other.”

— John Lennon, The Beatles by Hunter Davies [x]

Q: “What musician and composer do you respect most?” Paul: “No, I don’t know, really... John Lennon!” John: *mock-shy* “...Paul McCartney.” [x]

conversations with mccartney, paul du noyer [x]

“It was 8:30. I could hear people talking about the likelihood of a storm later on that evening. I can remember hoping that it would clear up before my cycle ride back to Wavertree. Up to now it had been an eventful day but very tiring and as a group, although committed to playing, we all wished that we could pack up and go home. All of us apart from John Lennon. I think that meeting Paul had whetted his appetite and by the time we went on stage for our session at 8:45 he looked refreshed and seemed to have a new sparkle, as though he had had an injection of renewed optimism and enthusiasm as he played and sang through our usual repertoire that evening. […] I went outside for some air and a smoke; John and Pete decided to come with me. We stood outside pulling on our cigarettes, enjoying the breeze that had risen with the oncoming storm. “Do you know, John,” remarked Pete as we stood outside, “I’ve never heard you sound as good as you did just then. I know you’re going to say that I’m not very musical but I could hear the difference. I can see that something’s happened to you. Even the skiffle numbers which I know you’re not that keen on sounded good. You seem to have put more effort into them.” “Pete’s right, John. I couldn’t help noticing it as well,” I said. John was silent for a few minutes, just enjoying his smoke. “I guess someone took the trouble to share what he knew with me and it’s just given me a little encouragement for the future, that’s all.” “Oh I see, you’re getting a little sentimental in your old age, aren’t you,” joked Pete, who had never seen his life-long friend in that light before. “Don’t be thick, Pete,” replied John, who seemed almost back to his normal abrupt self. “Come on, I need a drink.”” — Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]

[x]

Paul's persistence and endless patience for John while he was dealing with the death of his mother Julia:

But Paul seemed to have limitless patience for John, sneaking away from his classes to drink coffee at the Jacaranda coffeehouse, or else spend the afternoon nursing pints and punching rock ‘n’ roll songs on the jukebox at Ye Cracke pub. Certainly, Paul preferred hanging out with his friend to grinding through lectures and assignments at his schoolboy’s desk at the Liverpool Institute. But the hours they spent together held an emotional significance, too. For even if they rarely spoke about the pain of losing their mothers, the mutual feelings of loss—and the rawness of John’s wound—gave them a connection that was as vital as it was unspoken. It was, Paul said later, a “special bond for us, something of ours, a special thing.” … “We could look at each other,” Paul said, “and know.”” 

…

John, however, had other things on his mind. Though the fall of 1958 and well into 1959, John was far too busy engaging in art-school life—if not exactly his studies—to think much about playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band. He had started dating another student, a quiet blonde from the relatively posh Hoylake district on the Wirral, named Cynthia Powell. She proved a warm, stabilizing influence, which helped mitigate John’s ongoing grief and rage.

He had also grown particularly close to one of the school’s most promising students, a blazingly talented painter named Stuart Sutcliffe, whose emotional portraits and densely wrought abstracts had already caught the eye of the university’s instructors, along with the gallery owners, artists and critics who orbited the bohemian section that bordered the campus. John had been drawn to Stu’s talent, too, and when his classmate invited John to move into his large, if downtrodden, flat around the corner from the college in a row of once-elegant homes on Gambier Terrace, the two art students became even closer. The flat became a hub for their college friends, a reliable address for drinking bouts and all-night parties.

 Nevertheless, Paul made certain not to be a stranger. He was a regular around Gambier Terrace, often toting his guitar to spur a little playing and singing, and if circumstance permitted, a bit of songwriting. John remained an eager music fan, and generally enthusiastic partner for playing and singing. But his disinterest in the band, prompted at least in part by his deepening friendship with Stu, frustrated Paul. 

…

John was moving on, and not in a promising direction. George, for his part, had grown sick of waiting and joined the jazz-and-skiffle centered Les Stewart Quartet, though he made it clear to Paul he’d be back with the Quarrymen whenever they resumed playing. Paul, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in playing with anyone else. For whatever combination of emotional or visceral reasons, he couldn’t seem to imagine a musical life that didn’t include John Lennon as his primary partner.

So he persisted, dragging his guitar to Gambier Terrace, making himself a fixture amid the empty beer bottles, overflowing ashtrays, shattered Vicks inhalers, and paint-splattered clothes.

If John didn’t evince any interest in being in a band, Paul would simply wait, guitar at the ready, until he did.

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life [x]

The Beatles, 1964:

John- The Smart one

George- The Quiet one

Paul- The Cute one

Ringo- the drummer

The Beatles, 2023

John- The Gay one

George- The Bitchy one

Paul- Lesbian Woman

Ringo- the drummer

>*vinyl scratch sound*

>YOU'RE NOW LISTENING TO

>*car crash sound*

>102.3

>*elephant sound*

>MUSIC RPF FM

>*explosion*

>WHERE WE PLAY NOTHIN BUT RPF, RPF, AND MORE RPF

>*glass shattering sound*

>*police siren*

>THIS AIN'T YOUR GAYLOR'S STATION

>*two of us - the beatles starts playing*

ok so apparently “Sweet Nothing” by Taylor Swift is about Paul and Linda? And he might have worked on it with her? She credited someone (an alias, “William Bowery”) on the album who she said was Joe Alwyn, her ex partner, but for multiple reasons there’s always been rumours that it wasn’t him

Taylor uses the lyrics “on the way home // I wrote a poem // you say, “what a mind” // this happens all the time”

Here’s a quote from Paul: “I would go out for a run, think of some words, get home from the run, write them down, and make a cup a tea for Linda. I'd make a little tray, and go up, and then I'd say, 'Hey, by the way, do you want to hear some poetry?' She'd always … she'd say, 'Yeah.' And so I wrote that poem. I would come back from a run. With lines of poetry to tell. And having listened, she would say 'What a mind.'”

A Paul archive account posted this quote (an abbreviated version) the weekend Taylor’s album came out, which seems…not accidental. Taylor just randomly liked the tweet, which is a year old, after it was revealed that one of her saddest songs about difficulties in her relationship with Joe wasn’t written during the breakup or shortly before, but in 2021, which makes people doubt very much if a song like Sweet Nothing could have been written by the “happy couple” in 2022.

Additionally, Paul was spotted in Wicklow more than once in 71, which would fit the theme of the song, as it’s about coming home to a partner’s love after the world outside tried to rip you to shreds. Crying screaming throwing up btw

now and then, 2023

wikipedia / john’s version, handwritten / genius / @m1ssunderstanding / hey jude / get back documentary / the guardian

The Paris trip of 1961.

The story goes that John had been planing a long holiday with Paul for some time (according to some early notes of the new Beatle bio “in tune”) and when he received a ratter large amount of money from some rich relatives (£100, which at the time was a ratter large amount). With this money they decided to cancel their gigs from the 30th of September till October 15th (which the others did not enjoy much, being that they needed the money.)

“Last night I heard that John and Paul have gone to Paris to play together - in other words, the band has broken up! It sounds mad to me, I don’t believe it…” - Stuart 1961

On September 30th they set of, hitch-hiking from England, originally planning on going all the way to Spain, but eventually upon stopping in Paris and being hit by a sudden laziness, due to the fact that they had been hitch-hiking for days, the pair decided to stop in Paris.

“We’d never been there before. We were a bit tired so we checked into a little hotel for the night, intending to go off hitchhiking the next morning. Of course, it was too nice a bed after having hitched so we said, ‘We’ll stay a little longer,’ then we thought, 'God, Spain is a long way, and we’d have to work to get down there.’ We ended up staying the week in Paris - John was funding it all with his hundred quid.” - Paul on the anthology.

They booked a very cheat hotel, that from the pictures we had seen only had one single bed. During the trip they walked around all of Paris, checking out the artistic scene in Montmartre and even getting themselves a pair of what we today call a “bell bottoms"  (eventually taking them in themselves) and the new beatle cut.

They hitch-hiked back to liverpool and arrived back at around the 15th. 

To this day all the pictures we have are theses:

Also two cute facts are that:

1- According to this post, "That last picture is one Paul took of John sleeping in Paris. From what I remember of a performance he did of ‘Here Today’, and earlier comments, this picture hangs framed on a wall in Paul’s house.”

2- Also the lads not only came back to Paris later on in their life, but in interviews they were many times caught says that they missed Paris. 

thinking abt kms 24/7 just to not be able to do it for a girl i love

god i wanna kms so badly but i know how much itd hurt her, ik how upset she’d get, how it would crush her world and ruin her life and id do fucking, literally fucking anything for that girl, literally anything, she asks me to not kms, she asks me to stay and its not just her asking me to, she makes me wanna try and fight too, i just, i get so tired and when i get tired i have no energy to fight, i have no energy to push it away or let go of it, i give in, im tired

im so tired, im so ready to give in again and attempt again, i literally just did last monday, i freaked out i had to have her tell me to stop so i didnt actually kms, i wish i wouldve at least sent myself to the hospital from the damage but im not even good enough for that

i cant help but think that my attempts are good enough because i never sent myself to the hospital i always had the power to stop myself but what the fuck does that make me? a fucking big ass pussy, a faker, a fraud

god, just, fucking kill me please im so so tired

Please tell me I’m not as forgettable as your silence is making me feel.

my grandma used to recite the saying "is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all?" and every time my answer would be that i would have rather not loved at all.

she would smile then, and say "then you did not love". i didn't understand what she meant. of course i had loved. i had a broken heart, didn't i? i had the scar to prove it, the inability to eat. i had loved and wished i hadn't. i loved, i thought.

and then i met you, and i fell in love and then i lost you and now i understand because i would feel this pain over and over again just to love you for five extra minutes. i would fix my heart and hand it back to you without hesitation. "look! it's all better now! you can try again" i would tell you, i would cry it out hysterically while waving my taped heart in the air. i would love you a million times knowing i would lose you and i would not care as long as i got to do it. i have loved. i have loved so completely.

mae // what a bittersweet thing to understand.

That's a fact

l'appel du vide - healthline / guns for hands - twenty one pilots / blackout poetry / arrow - half alive / holly warburton / king - florence and the machine / journals and notebooks - susan sontag / namesthatmean.com / healers - david altmejd / war of the foxes - richard siken

I want someone to take me to a better life, where I don’t have to worry about anything

i feel like the longer you have depression n r suicidal, the less people care

bc its like~ hes depressed rn?? he always is

he hasnt eaten?? he will at some point

hes sh again?? they're never deep anyway

he's gone missing again?? its fine he'll come home

he overdosed again?? he never takes enough tho

he tried to kill himself?? thats okay the attempts have never worked~ so it wont this time

I feel so disgusting rn I want to peel off every inch of skin on me till this sensation stops

it's hilarious being self aware. i'm watching a clown performance, for real.

unfortunately for the both of us, i really like you

therapists saying you're surprisingly self aware is like being called a pleasure to have in class for adults

Small tasks

if someone says they watch dead apple for the plot, they're lying, because I've never met anyone ever who understood the plot of that movie

13 days kinds of kisses up to the 14th of February✨ (\\\^з^\\\)(⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎)