My comics do not live in bags, because I want to read them. I know this means they are more easily damaged, and rapidly lose their value, but I'm not into comics for the money. I'm here for the thrills.
Even comics that were published in the 60s and 70s are out there in th eopen air. They've survived decades of other owners,circling around collections and second hand stores, but they probably won't survive me.
But I might not survivethem, because every time I get stuck into an old comic ,I come away with weeping eyes and a sore throat, and it's not because of that sweet old Gil Kane art.
I've always had a dust allergy, so that's got to be a lot of it, and some of these things were printed on newsprint 50 ago. They're literally flaking away every time I read them, micro pieces of paper floating right up my sinuses.
I'm not going to read these comics any less, they're worth a little eye-ache. But the older they get, the more they exude, and the older I get, the more I feel it.
This has been another post that probably has some kind of moral or metaphor hiding in there somewhere, but fucked if I know what it is.
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3 comments:
Your dedication to enjoying comics despite the discomfort is admirable. Maybe it's a testament to the enduring appeal of these stories that you're willing to endure a bit of dust for the thrills they provide.
I can really relate to this! We're all flaking away together, but it's worth it.
Your passion for comics shines through despite the challenges you face. It's inspiring to see someone prioritize the joy of reading over the condition or value of their collection. Keep enjoying those thrills, even if it means enduring a bit of discomfort along the way.
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