#VERSE. ( peace is a lie; there is only passion. )

[lifefcrged]

TAG DROP. ( verses. )

VERSE. ( you are a weapon; not a shield. )

--> MCU / (reluctant) shield recruit.

VERSE. ( you are a weapon; and weapons do not weep. )

--> HYDRA (or equivalent)

VERSE. ( the world was not created in a deluge; it was covered by it. )

--> Waterworld (crossover.)

VERSE. ( a world divided; what a world it might have been. )

--> XMCU (geneticist. mutant / ally of the x-men.)

VERSE. ( if death is justice; what is injustice. )

--> TOG (crossover.)

VERSE. ( women do not forget; women do not forgive. )

--> HotD / GoT.

VERSE. ( i am become; what you have made me. )

--> post hydra au; mercenary / villain verse.

VERSE. ( peace is a lie; there is only passion. )

--> SW. ( dark side force user. )

VERSE. ( Ex Astris; scientia. )

--> ST.

VERSE. ( victims; aren't we all. )

--> unspecified fandom. vigilante.

VERSE. ( no man is above the law; nor no man below it. )

--> on the run, post hydra.

VERSE. ( don't open; dead inside. )

--> TWD / generic apocalypse / post apocalypse.

VERSE. ( this lonely road; trying to make it home. )

--> JUSTIFIED.

VERSE. ( such things must happen; but the end is still to come. )

—> DOMINION.

VERSE. ( the only thing necessary for evil to triumph; is for good men to do nothing. )

--> THE BOYS.

[gloombound]

The desert doesn’t sleep, but it grows quiet. The kind of quiet that presses against the skin and gets into the lungs like dust. You lie still in bed, clutching around the silver cross you haven’t taken off since you were an innocent child until your knuckles go white.

Simon’s breathing is steady and he’s too close. He always is. Some part of you aches for it, waiting for the shift of his weight on the mattress beneath you two. It’s wrong, all of it, and you know it deep down in marrow and scripture. You try to recall what you’ve been told for years, something about temptation being a test, not a sentence. To suffer for righteousness’ sake was to be blessed.

There’s nothing blessed about the way Simon’s hand runs along your chest as if it belongs there, as if this is normal. There’s no holiness in the heat between you two, in the way your sweat mixes.

Filthy and forbidden.

This isn’t passion, it’s punishment.

You know the verses, you grew up on them, sharp edged and sanctified. You used to scribble them in the margins of notebooks and mutter them like armor.

Man shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination. (18:22)

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death; their bloodguilt is upon them. (20:13)

You knew the word before you knew what it meant. Still, you don’t move, don’t pull away. Simon exhales at the base of your neck, and you flinch like it burns. Maybe it did, maybe that’s what this is, a kind of marking, invisible but searing. The devil doesn’t always wear horns or drag chains behind him; sometimes he comes quiet, with calloused hands and a voice that settles in your bones like ash.

You can’t help but squeeze your cross tighter, the edges biting into your palm until you feel the skin give. The blood doesn’t surprise you.

You deserves worse.

You told yourself it wouldn’t happen again. That the first time was a mistake, an anomaly cracked open by too much death and not enough sleep. The kind of thing that lives in the silence after gunfire, where adrenaline crashes and there’s nothing left but two men trying not to come apart.

But it did happen again. And again.

Always when no one was looking.

Simon doesn’t say much, he never does. The look in his eyes isn’t confusion, it’s clarity. That makes it worse somehow. You could live with sin if it was mutual damnation, but Simon doesn’t look damned. He looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him human. That’s the part that burns.

It would be easier if Simon were cruel. If he grabbed you and dragged you into hell with hands as calloused as your conscience. But he’s gentle, always. That gentleness scalds. It peels back the armor you’ve built, layer by layer, until you’re left bare and ugly in the eyes of God.

You shower with your backs turned, silence thicker than the steam. You pretend not to notice the way Simon’s eyes linger just a second too long on you, pretend your stomach doesn’t clench, that the shame doesn’t crawl up your throat like bile.

You scrub your skin raw, as if you can wash away what you two had done, what you’ve done. As if the water will rinse the sin from your bones. It never does.

It clings.

One night, beneath a sky torn open like old wounds, you feel Simon’s gaze settle over you. Not like a burden, but like gravity. Constant, certain, and unyielding. You want to scream. You want to grab him by the collar and demand answers. Why him, why this, why now. Why couldn’t it have been someone forgettable, someone who wouldn’t make his chest ache with something that feels too close to reverence.

But you don’t scream, you break.

The kiss lands rough, guilt tangled into it, like you’re trying to exorcise the feeling out of your own body. Yet Simon kisses back like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if he’s already made peace with the fire.

When you’re tangled together in a mess of gear and regret, you stare at the cracked ceiling of the bunker and imagine hell. You used to fear fire, imagined it as a place of torment. Now you think maybe it’s quieter than that. Maybe it looks like this, peaceful, warm, and lined with the kind of love that gets you damned.

You pray.

Not for absolution, but for the strength to carry the weight of a sin you’re not sure you regret.

Simon sleeps with one hand draped across your chest. You don’t know if it’s protection or possession. Either way, you let it stay.

In the morning, you will hate yourself again. You will wear the mask, lace up your boots, and walk like nothing is unraveling beneath the surface. You will stand beside Simon, rifle in hand, and act like you don’t remember.

You’ll bleed into your prayers, whispering salvation into the wind and hoping the sand will bury it before God hears. But for now, just for now, you clutch the cross in your hand and let it cut you.

Because pain is the only thing that still feels holy.

[lifefcrged]

"Now what, I must ask, might have given you the very mistaken impression that I had any desire whatsoever to leave?"

OPEN STARTER [ s.ith o.bi-wan aka darth fernos ]

          “Calculate the odds of you getting off this planet alive, and now cut them in half.”

[scribeforchrist-blog]

What I Really Needed Is Peace

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ James 4:3 You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your    passions

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ Psalm 4:8 In peace I will lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

=======================

** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM AT PEACE

I AM HEARING GOD

I AM WAITING ON GOD

I AM NOT ALONE

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READ TIME: 9 Minutes & 45 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

======================

  I can remember thinking life was so simple because if I got my liquor on Friday. I had a good movie to watch; that was my life, something simple, nothing complicated, and a lot of times, I would think it couldn’t get better than that, and I had to learn that life could get better, as I gave my life to God he made me see that life was better with him and what I wanted to do was just be in peace.

We see our life as full with peace because we have all these things and money. We think we are at peace, but peace is only obtained when we trust God. We must trust in God for peace, but the peace he can give us is everlasting. I could remember thinking that weed and drinking could make me feel so good that nothing else is better, but as you smoke, you always have to smoke to keep your high; you always have to buy it, but the peace of God, I didn’t have to buy it , it came freely his word says “Freely you have received; freely give.” And he gives freely to us when we allow him to give.

 John 14:27 peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

  See, the world can only give us so much peace; the world can give us only what it has, which is so tiny; we can sit here and say we were in peace when we were sinning, but sinning only puts us in a loop of the same thing which is sin. Then we are back at the empty place, over and over again, but with God's peace, we don’t have to worry about it; we don’t have to worry about being in this endless loop of the same feeling, we just have to let go of the mindset that what we are doing is right to obtain peace, peace starts with us, we can allow our day to be messed up by something someone does, or we can ignore it and give it to God now when you first do this you're going to be irritated you're going to be frustrated. Still, as you do this more often, you learn this is what we are supposed to do all along.

 Psalm 4:8 In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

  When we are in peace with God, we learn we can sleep in peace because we have the safety of the Lord. I'm not going to lie to you that peace is hard to get sometimes when thinking about finances, life, problems, and our love life, but our minds don’t know how to let go. I don’t care what you do; whatever you try to use for peace instead of God won't last. Still, when we depend on God, our life becomes easier, and sleep becomes easier because we are then leaning on God, and that is what peace is about: leaning on God for everything; peace is about knowing that we can get it from God, not from our things here on earth. There is so much out there to give us peace: weed, drinking, gummies, pornography, relationships; it all is there to help us gain something, but are we gaining something? No, we are opening doorways into our lives for spirits to attach themselves to us.

 Hebrews 12:29 for our “God is a consuming fire.

  We talked this week about the fire that God has that can consume anything that we have that’s not of him when we submit to him. His fire cleanses what in us that’s of the flesh, but this comes from time spent with God and building a stable relationship with him, not just talking to him a little at a time, but when we fully allow him to be our everything. Some might find this hard to do, as the Holy Spirit said above, because we have allowed things to be our peace, and we start to allow the Holy Spirit to be our friend, guide, and teacher; we begin to see what we are doing wrong.

 1 Samuel 1:15 Not so, my Lord,” Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord.

  It's different levels. I noticed that we get on with Christ; sometimes, we are on this unique level, pouring our souls into him. Then we have these levels where we don’t engage enough, but whatever season you are in, don’t give into the temptation to draw away but ; pour your heart out to him and allow him to hear you speak; allow him to hear what your feelings when I go to the prayer closet I often time am pouring my heart to him because I don’t want it to be ever a moment that I'm not showing him I do care. Yes, he knows, but when we let him know, we are doing this by doing what Hannah did, we are pouring ourselves out to him.

  Proverbs 1:5: let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance—

  We listen with our ears, but do we truly listen to the voice of God? We learned this week about how sometimes we don’t listen with our ears; we allow our habits and actions to tell us what to do, but every day, we should be listening to the voice of God, and when we do this, we will see and hear what the Holy Spirit is trying to say to us we can live our whole lives and never hear the voice of God. Still, it’s because we don’t try to sit quietly and wait for him; we allow what we think we heard to lead us. We can't allow that to happen; we must be sure that what we heard was of the Lord.

  Proverbs 27:19 As water reflects the face, so one’s life reflects the heart

  When. We look in the mirror, and it won't lie to us; what we see is what we see that’s like our heart; we learned this week that our heart reflects our true intention; it reflects what we are feeling and a lot of times, we might say no this isn’t my true feelings, but when we give ourselves to the Lord he can see into our true thoughts its nothing we can hide from him, we must be able to be real with God it's some people I can't be real with I can't even tell you countless of people that pretend to be something they’re not just to make someone happy, but we can't pretend with God.

  ***Today, we learn that we need Jesus to give us peace; a lot of times, we think other things will bring us the ultimate happiness, and it can money, people, and things can bring you happiness, but what I am looking for right now in my life is the joy I want the joy of the Lord I want the peace that doesn’t leave, I want that more than anything, we can sit and think how many times we have had pure happiness that didn’t end so quickly not so much but when we give ourselves to God we can guarantee what he gives us is real, and it's true that’s what I need

  1 Corinthians 10:13 No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.

But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

We also discussed some of the topics of the week, and one of them was about how weak we can be and how God won't allow anything to take us over that he won't provide a way out of; we might say, oh, I got myself in a situation, but with every situation God has given us a way out he's just waiting for us to escape, that’s something I use to cry to the Lord about because I will be so overwhelmed. I say, Father, please help me, and he will because I asked him to; how many times have you asked him to help you? He might not help you the way you like. Still, he will at his timing and his speed; we must be patient with him; today, if you feel this way you go to him and say, Father, I need you to help me to be more like you, help me to call on you, it's okay to be in a place in your life where you need help. Still, we must be ready to allow him to free us from it and be willing to let go of it. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

======================

PRAYER

=====================

Heavenly Father, we thank you for today; we ask you to help us take what we learned this week and apply it to our lives. Father, forgive us if we have done anything to offend the Holy Spirit. Lord, give us strength today; help us to get peace from you and not from things here on earth; we love you, Father, and we ask you right now to tear down anything the enemy has for us and his plans. We rebuke it in Jesus' Name Amen

======================

REFERENCES

======================

+ 2 Thessalonians 3:16 Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in every way. The Lord be with you all.

+ Isaiah 26:3 You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

+ Matthew 5:9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God

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FURTHER READINGS

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 Proverbs 9

Judges 3

Job 12

Ecclesiastes 11

======================

[daisyjonesgf]

Literally listen to Long Long Time by Linda Ronstadt. Firstly, it’s such an incredible song but also it’s so Billy x Muse coded. Specifically from her perspective. I think there definitely could be something there for you. Like maybe she wrote it and it’s like the first time he’s actually nice and sympathetic towards her and not an evil man. (i’m kidding) But seriously I think this could be so lit and really show just how much of a toll he’s taken on her.

I literally almost started crying listening to this song 😭

and you're right, there is so much here

I can totally envision muse writing it and then just playing it for herself in his room, she's got billy's guitar, sitting on the edge of the bed, just playing it for herself to process her emotions. it's not even something she wants to give daisy, just for herself but billy ends up standing in the doorway listening unbeknownst to her. and it really does move him, hurt him. when she's done he'd come up to her, getting on his knees to be closer to her face, and just let out one of those rare confessions. "i love you, baby." a kiss. an afternoon full of a comforting silence while he's holding her. the way things should be.

canonically to me in the billy muse verse this isn't long before chicago and the end of the band and when he leaves her alone so she can find herself again

let's unpack the song though y'all

"love will abide, take things in stride. sounds like good advice, but there's no one at my side."

eddie is only there for her bc he loves her. as much as daisy wants to help, she is pure chaos. muse doesn't have the support system she needs to really take things in stride in a way that is beneficial to her and protects her peace and mental health.

"and time washes clean, love's wounds unseen. that's what someone told me, but I don't know what it means."

all the time she has been playing this game with billy and the wounds only ever get deeper, it only ever hurts more. the highest of highs come with the lowest of lows. she doesn't live in a world where time is healing all wounds, not yet. she's too reliant on him.

"cause I've done everything I know, to try and make you mine, and I think I'm gonna love you a long, long time"

she has tried to be every version of herself for billy, to argue, to be passive, to retaliate, to let him walk all over her, to leave, to stay, and all the cycle does is continue. the ferris wheel goes around again and she doesn't really get off. her love is too deeply ingrained in her for that to happen, it controls her life in a terribly unhealthy and toxic way. she has to learn to live without relying on her passion for him.

"I can't say you hurt me, when you never let me near and I never drew one response from you"

every time billy seems to be vulnerable and open up he reverts back to how he was before, to lashing out. it makes her wonder how much of it is a lie, or a tactic to give her just enough to keep her hooked. ofc he knows that it's genuine and he sees it as trying to protect himself, but his walls are too firm and much to high.

"all the while you fell, all over girls you never knew...and I think it's gonna hurt me for a long long time"

billy and his groupies ofc, cheating on her, using them to make her jealous and ofc it has a huge impact on her, her self esteem, questioning why she stays and puts up with it, acting like it's fine or retaliating with eddie, but it cuts deep

"wait for the day, you'll go away. knowing that you warned me of the price I'd have to pay"

dreading the day he actually gets done with her, with them, that he's done mining her for content. knowing that she stayed despite knowing how it would end and letting herself be pushed into a box.

"living in the memory of a love that never was...and I think I'm gonna miss you a long long time"

THINKING ALL THE GOOD THINGS WERE IN HER HEAD that she'd made it all up and not only will she miss him when it's over but she now misses the version of him that she feels like she's gaslit herself into thinking it ever existed

oh my god, thank you for brining this to my attention it made me so psyched for muse and billy asks, you have no idea, mwah 💋

[libidomechanica]

“In you and the Constant to some why nobler exercise; set is because”

A kimo sequence

               I

A longing after much year. A dank, and bask in their in mee, of year and pity grief for long.

               II

In you and the Constant to some why nobler exercise; set is because? From some slight, that by.

               III

I mean. Nor my tongue doth assurance proper to the Mansion House, as where shall my latest lie.

               IV

Her my plumes beames Indigestion, nor the road heart of mine—I tame? But I am the pearl.

               V

The hopeless number’s hang good. Bad luck out. Only mark, and gilte Rose-tree, and do what was sent be.

               VI

The travery worth is apt thee! You art there. The latch I heart, and Lion— let it is meane me?

               VII

-Storm, hope something all those the where-throat and dream: but the lily as night. Moving round for the more.

               VIII

His but on a curse thy verse, more I read, deny. Is storms, where realms of theme, No, seem’d to think throat.

               IX

The full silent be. To me,—he not to say that I woke in love. Yet she watches girl, we all.

               X

Fight of summer’s dust indecent from here. And the frosty wit in so sweetly, like Malthus, grace.

               XI

Whose same feebled mirror of living? Melts into another twitter below, Nay, nay, you doubt!

               XII

And came: then t is it to my body riddled. And sable harmony her the Fourth I meant.

               XIII

Of birds the green pebbles at was. Hopes are— the wont there my ever breast in which buryed is hive.

               XIV

And that rule now the found? Than your father, none sweet you know take my face sheath, I said I for it.

               XV

A lilly, her the out of merimake. All not the statuelike some counter the moon! Now sees.

               XVI

Which limb of a curious forfeited? And rumour has a man crimson gone to his homage.

               XVII

In your poor lives miss’d among their royal words, that slips tourne. Her cheer, and red, with clamour: farewell.

               XVIII

All to the presence disdayne. But thought and the those gossamer ever want to prevent from hence?

               XIX

His require. There is done within, the curl of loue is gone. When I do not yet the full o’er!

               XX

Did not we done you remembered mirth; but what it true or where you. I cease throat and sound. Look you!

               XXI

And by the distant we moves next neighbor. A unique vows of the peace, then, and then, for a lie?

               XXII

But not boldly worth of Love fine, than the spray. Short, then, thought of a visit; till take simply well?

               XXIII

Of a Ghazál. Light dazed me, and the doorstep, then clear and soon—you’ll leapèd and love and yet quickness.

               XXIV

Among unknown, down at you. You like this gift Then clear would should die wheel in some hear, my mistress!

               XXV

For their forest wit to rail shroud; through. A married to hunt his caprice has twa sparkling brain?

               XXVI

&Alone? By glimmering to my hair, turn’d the trample, the caged there you, Love her, resting I knows?

               XXVII

And flies to expert. I doubt but soon as it see the after here’s misguise but with fleeting.

               XXVIII

Some passions to cross me sweetness of you. Have forbids; with something look so much too brighter war.

               XXIX

To me, and drinking all emong the lost may mark the my hand. Men, if I weene. If in my tears.

               XXX

Had not love that be sinne where not cry also a beautiful face all see me light: but it on.

               XXXI

Courtiers’ cots and I by verse. I knows us. Part and hid under, to traverse-men you kisse.

               XXXII

The good, and to days am a grows to be helps to do? He was borne Muse, and sit on my friend!

               XXXIII

And to mourn has twa sparkling battle, you like home, again! He command, was no doubt this way?

               XXXIV

That oft had set once of the wood, and to change, she writ, and so below, what you. Maud my mood passed.

               XXXV

We’re laughter than recall. Before him with pleasant pay euen in the wood. And, and say the full verse.

               XXXVI

Should not that has rods of both as those to destined by the sea! Ah the sun that carefull verse.

               XXXVII

With our shone folkes me with did address. At he render oats forget his easier empire.

               XXXVIII

In deem the Susan? Will know not you become on stream, you see other; while I endure thy verse.

               XXXIX

And now shall liars and hid under thing, of light, like dissolve throne. Beloved streight than tell: where.

               XL

I myself I do strike help me! Might have close day, for thee, deares, that win: ’ I thine: the move in!

               XLI

Me, now them rose the stare; for a kiss me. And, right, till there’s Long Post, but weak and have lost thus.

               XLII

Proud peopling in that’s through the Grounds pryde: what you. Or in heauie her slake, that long sight by brain, alone.

               XLIII

Did my mood than too well. And Years and to arise and Juan’s getting in no face, and in through you.

               XLIV

Nightly gulls him with the window of amber, and to some fly, my Anthea! By gentle grew?

               XLV

Birch through the thing of white, but the been obliged there he’d coax a vampire. To heart for an hour tight?

               XLVI

Who the fayrest mood is blushing isn’t hard or false wont in my word and like a song? The trouble.

               XLVII

And over she said, my own. And haunted the game with a kind something the wealth half English een.

               XLVIII

Also of song of alters makes fall. What’s wrough the instead or unfaster- changing like minion!

               XLIX

And hangs former her. Only for an auld Natures can make all marvellings their flanks;—but would bad!

               L

There hammered and hear thee more, but she lose dead. That our lists, and, and pen, be wan, who in through you.

               LI

But then practice lose my Chloris is what is so farewell. Desire, and shines of Albany.

               LII

And shepheard, the greeting. Then rising man within my fluent to lived from years that must pursuit?

               LIII

If I bear, could disheveled blown bending Devon, who in my well they knew it. As dues or his?

               LIV

Shame give you call one general foe. Fragment, sole received it as gave to fail it is what has her!

               LV

But the for me; and lands—the with rumor argue like Malthus, great portend no woman wed is.

               LVI

Where with you remind had be with painting on me—I myself I’ll brings, hist! Her hand. See barber.

               LVII

We’re laughs at fire and the silent cold blood. My head, dead and the high- sorrowful voice so deere more!

               LVIII

And bride. Call his blows,—o dreamful waste, since, then did but thing lassie, when Rome’s like I tried, unfree?

               LIX

Each eyes as right do it so where me, that made! For thorn in a cigaret! Looking-maid, my friend!

               LX

Falls purpose: and I. The wet wi’ an act than thunderwater puir Jenny for a little green.

               LXI

But keeper yet would her knee. Thou before, I wake their arms, to let his travellers to great end.

               LXII

On hour sharp check that by element stand circumstance would not, but go my wind waile yellow!

               LXIII

Well, gliding vanquisite a Jupiter, dear; child is worn the violet bastard. But now the earth.

               LXIV

Boast; an’ she will commerce before the would be. Than thus I woo, I am tired, devoures.

               LXV

Lady, for Stellas eyes of love but wherein one ought the point or wrong. And where had wore memoree.

               LXVI

And the million. Thy sorrow like Saint’s flatters lead: o heauens does must made of a bitter breeches.

               LXVII

Mothers,—that, and boxing; but thought, from my dear call have the humming Death! That if I bear the must.

               LXVIII

I lagged more shine, while as to reaches swim some of youthful seldom. With flow’r-revive, but pursuit?

               LXIX

Show honeyed sent and dancer, having less somewhat him wild ecstasy? And against us light.

               LXX

Must heals the has been firebrandy’s far mortal pitch where better: and pale forbear call your name?

               LXXI

There to glance on us at allay. And the change of that has been a lampling up the profane.

               LXXII

—But immoral, eternity: Cold in mee, of a tulip or some outright—and did my mind.

               LXXIII

But ah to my eye and to slowly the world! And carriage into it. And in the world—ah me!

               LXXIV

Margaret, has every face which doth fairy Prince! Ah, stars she wrathful kind that thus descent ferments!

               LXXV

Awake. That was the need’st this pulses playes, of a follow could she never you just soft and strayne.

               LXXVI

Women and sky, would be thy remembered blows,—o dream, yet ’tis through and with rushing tongue, I chere.

               LXXVII

Stay ask me diem, ’ Juan was well be found traction, gave wonderous dukes and song? That it is the bay.

               LXXVIII

Do you is fair; lure of the inward and ill of my life, of yore. All with a look at the dead?

               LXXIX

They couldst thy unkindly. All to my grew in lost the martyr’d sand-hunting may aye my mists down!

               LXXX

Pedestal, but well to the creation— weaned me, bene rug. Then he fiery-short absence.

               LXXXI

I shan’t fix with her smile. Bring combs have done, and perish hath morning, list ne mas-ke, ystablish’d.

               LXXXII

After-time I hearing. Message thy captivity; while I closed thickest and collect morning.

               LXXXIII

The boughts no more from me them smells that slow air? ’St for the that love younger, like our deed, to do?

[pearlsoflongago]

The Ageless Garden

Poems and Paintings of Timeless Summer

Mountainous Landscape with Fruit Orchard Near Ornans by Gustave Courbet

All That’s Past

Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the briar's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are— Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.

Very old are the brooks; And the rills that rise Where snow sleeps cold beneath The azure skies Sing such a history Of come and gone, Their every drop is as wise As Solomon.

Very old are we men; Our dreams are tales Told in dim Eden By Eve's nightingales; We wake and whisper awhile, But, the day gone by, Silence and sleep like fields Of amaranth lie.

—Walter de la Mare

Conversation in a Rose Garden by Auguste Renoir

Sonnet

This little space which scented box encloses Is blue with lupins and is sweet with thyme. My garden all is overblown with roses, My spirit all is overblown with rhyme, And like a drunken honeybee I waver From house to garden and again to house, And, undetermined which delight to favour, On verse and rose alternately carouse. Adam, were you, in your primeval plenty, A poet and a gardener in one? Did you with easy songs the blossoms sheave, In Eden where the blooms by ten and twenty Sprang up beneath the magic of the sun, To deck the brows of your capricious Eve?

—Vita Sackville-West

Woodland Scene, Spring by Camille Pissarro

Journey

Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind Blow over me,—I am so tired, so tired Of passing pleasant places! All my life, Following Care along the dusty road, Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed; Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand Tugged ever, and I passed. All my life long Over my shoulder have I looked at peace And now I fain would lie in this long grass And close my eyes. Yet onward! Cat-birds call Through the long afternoon, and creeks at dusk Are guttural. Whip-poor-wills wake and cry, Drawing the twilight close about their throats. Only my heart makes answer. Eager vines Go up the rocks and wait; flushed apple-trees Pause in their dance and break the ring for me; Dim, shady wood-roads, redolent of fern And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread Of round-faced roses, pink and petulant, Look back and beckon ere they disappear. Only my heart, only my heart responds. Yet, ah, my path is sweet on either side All through the dragging day,—sharp underfoot, And hot, and like dead mist the dry dust hangs— But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach, And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling, The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

Wild Roses by Vincent van Gogh

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Reviving the 2000s pop-punk sound, snakesnakewhale.’s new single ‘Castle, PA’ offers raw sound, raspy vocals and emotions pushed to great lengths

As a band of 30-somethings writing the music they would’ve loved to listen to growing up, snakesnakewhale. bring with them a hefty blanket of nostalgia everywhere they go, creating songs reminiscent of eras long gone but never quite forgotten. Bringing the same kind of spirits as acts like Real Friends, Modern Baseball, The Front Bottoms and more, it’s inherently clear in everything they share that the passion to create here stems only from a love of what they do and a desire to write about things that cannot be buried, rising from the depths for their authenticity above all else.

Their latest single ‘Castle, PA’ of course embodies all of that and more, wrapping you inside a nearing five minute auditory journey that’s determined to do nothing other than make you feel, even if you want to angstily head-bang or play air-guitar along to their poetic words shoved in-your-face to be heard. A paired-back and resonant electric guitar riff slowly leads into that, an unexpectedly intimate introduction that builds upon the haunting atmosphere before it does the underlying ferocity. It’s not long before these drawn-out, hazy strings find themselves cut off by thunderous gritty sound though, snakesnakewhale. serenading you in the form of heavy-hitting drums, pounding bass and electric guitar twangs while their vocalist takes centre stage of it all. Through spewed out, gravelly words with a handful of differing backing layers to complement this chant-along feel, snakesnakewhale. set up the core pop-punk roots of ‘Castle, PA’.

The verse lulls slightly from this opening chorus, with intermittent guitar strums, steadier drums and a bright backing riff coming together with a more toned-down approach, though never losing the song’s intentionally unrefined feeling sound. The vocals are continually hectic too, in the foreground baring raspy, spoken-sung lines between moments that are emphasised by multitudes of backing voices, painting the picture of an echoey internal monologue of sorts that cannot seem to find peace. The lyrics are equally infused with a harsh, almost emotionally hostile sense that matches with the pained delivery too, carrying within a reflection on many long road-trips up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Though in practice a drive that should be unlike any other, snakesnakewhale. delve deeper, exploring the connotations of constantly being on the move and in-turn the back and forth nature of focusing on the negative or the positive.

From the opening line’s callback to childhood games, they sing ‘eye spy with my bloodshot eye, a little white lie I tell myself from the driver’s seat’, an acknowledgement of the passage of time since the youthful days spent carefree on their travels, now perhaps telling themselves the ‘lie’ that nothing has changed since while knowing deep down they couldn’t be further from the truth. Continuing ‘I should be focused on the road in front of me, but I’m stuck staring at the crack in the windshield’, it’s deeply implied these trips are in many ways metaphorical, relating the future to the roads ahead and yet feeling caught in one place within a vehicle that seems to be falling apart around them, steering them away from their focus and growth by the cracks of the past.

The chorus preaches some of the most universally relatable words of them all, singing ‘I know home is not a place, just a feeling that I chase’ , leaving snakesnakewhale. to deal with the overwhelming loss of the feeling of home and the way it fades from attainability like it once were there for you in younger days. As families drift apart, pass away, or one or the other move from places we once considered our roots, ‘Castle, PA’ looks towards the loneliness that comes with growing older, aimlessly wandering while the world expects you to have mapped every detail of your plans. No longer finding your ‘home’ in the places it used to be and yet finding no more of it in the places you’re still uncovering, ‘Castle, PA’ yearns for the stability of youth and yet instead only finds more open-roads and no place to rest.

As snakesnakewhale. surround this message with a bold and rowdy energy, they seek to lay undertones of silver linings amongst the instruments, taking the song in the direction of hope even when on the surface everything feels miserably hollow. If you’ve ever found yourself searching for meaning while riding off the beaten path, ‘Castle, PA’ will give you some solace that you’re not alone, and quite a few of us are just stumbling through and getting by. Listen to it for yourself here to really dig deeper, with so much hidden meaning and sonic depth worth appreciating.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[the-hem]

Ezra 8: 7-9. "Resonance."

Continuing our discussion of the benefits of Ezra, "strength in beneficial numbers". Civilization, which comprises all the physical constructs we use to protect ourselves and use the space to pursue an accelerated path of development in order to commune with God, requires insulation from emotional and intellectual threats as well.

The Decrees are specific: We are not to graven an image, tell a lie, or succumb to want or lust for another person or their property. Sins that violate the Decrees violate the safety of others and are ruinous to Ezra, the "safe enclosure."

As a human race we have decided to value the Decrees and have created many, many laws that create a simularcrum for them that employs millions of police, judges, lawyers, and personnel in the armed forces; there is evidence of our obedience except for one small thing: we will still not allow our fellow human beings the utter freedom of the expression of the Self.

Without protections and then the fostering of a socially ingrained respect for the Self, the rest as we are learning are meaningless. The Self is always the highest priority. The Self is why we till the field, farm animals, raise schools, buildings and hospitals, and train and fly everyone all around the world, so the Self can be with Itself.

Continuing now with the Book of Ezra, Chapter 8:

7 of the descendants of Elam, Jeshaiah son of Athaliah, and with him 70 men;

8 of the descendants of Shephatiah, Zebadiah son of Michael, and with him 80 men;

9 of the descendants of Joab, Obadiah son of Jehiel, and with him 218 men;

Elam= to be hidden

Jeshaiah= the depression of the Lord

Athaliah=deal with like a lion, spirit away, deal violently

Shephatiah=The verb שפט (shapat) means to judge or govern. Nouns שפט (shepet) and שפוט (shepot) mean judgment in the penal sense. Noun משפט (mishpat) denotes a ruling in a general sense; an ordinance or even custom or manner.

Zabadiah=The verb זבד (zabad) means to give and the noun זבד (zebed) means gift. Both these words are used only once, in Genesis 30:20. These words' more common equivalents come from the root נתן (natan).

Michael=Who is like God?

Joab=He is the Father

Obadiah=The verb עבד ('abad) means to work or serve, and the noun עבד ('ebed) denotes someone who works: from a slave to a hired expert. The Greek equivalent of this noun is δουλος (doulos).

Jehiel=Like like a nation.

The verb חיה (haya) means to live and life is all about resonance between elements — molecules working together to make a living cell, cells working together to make a living organism and human minds working together to make a living nation.

Adjective חי (hay) means living and adjective חיה (hayeh) means lively. Noun חיה (hayya) means life or living thing, and may also be used to describe a vibrant community. Plural noun חיים (hayyim) literally means livings but describes the whole palette of activities a living being engages in: one's making-a-living.

The best way to serve God is to rise up out of the pit of depression, eke out justice wherever evil prevails, and live like a nation of persons cabable of showing respect for everyone inside it.

In this way, every bit of brilliance hidden inside each of us will have a chance to make its mark and earn a profit for the entire system.

So why, when we are so willing to obey all the rest, why won't we settle down and do what has to be done so life on earth can flourish once again?

The Values in Gematria for the above verses are as follows:

v. 7: the Value in Gematria is 2953, בט‎הג‎‎, in the city. "The City that is at Peace".

v. 8: the Value in Gematria is 2923, בטבג, in tabeg "slaughter Egypt."

v. 9: the Value in Gematria is 3402, גדאֶפֶסב‎, gadapsev, "uncover what Eve saw with her own two open eyes." A big fresh male boy penis.

=

Eve knew she was naked and vulnerable, to her own passions most of all. God told her was going to need help if she was going to make it on her own, and she would have to be the one to arrange it.

What happens next? Cain pulls it off by building the world's first metropolis called Enoch, the Great City, a "city of great taste and sustained insight into the Laws of the Creator."

All the mother comprehends, the son turns into a venture and Sex in the City [revolting, just revolting] goes on.

So what went wrong? Egypt. A place where propaganda, directed at young people arrested the development of the human race and we have been a slave to its nonsense ever since.

[manamoeba]

Codes To Fight By

Being a gigantic fucking nerd, prone to deep-dives of hyperfixation far beyond the powers of all but the weirdest neurotypical geeks, I once became obsessed with the ideas behind the Code Of The Sith.

That code, for those of you not already well-versed in the arts of the dark side, is as follows:

Peace is a lie: there is only passion Through passion I gain strength Through strength I gain power Through power I gain victory Through victory my chains are broken

Now, this is a philosophical framework designed to be used by villains: it opens with the claim that there is no such thing as peace, and that only "passion" - here meaning struggle, conflict, movement, change, and inner turmoil or emotion - really exist.

It's inherently flawed - it's quite cleverly designed using a logical system for the building of enough personal capability to "break [our] chains", but that same framework repeats an essentially selfish "I gain" line three times in a row, subtly centering individual acquisition as a vital tenet.

One part of it still resonates though, on some level, not just because I love the idea of breaking chains, but because I see that code not as a map for interpersonal politics or growth, but as a litany against entropy; a war cry against an utterly impersonal and hostile universe.

Every single breath taken is, after all, a punch thrown at the void. Every heartbeat pushes failure and death back for another moment. Every movement, every thought defies the nature of the universe: for energy to dissipate and living things to die and dissolve. Life itself is therefore set against the universe, and every cell fights for every single second of its existence against entropy.

Again and again, the cycles of the world bring me back to that simple reality: just by being alive, we are already fighting. We must fight harder. We are at war and cannot surrender.

All of the beautiful truths of humanity, all of the love and tenderness and creativity and passion and cleverness and joy of which we are capable, they must all be won from a reality which becomes more hostile by the day.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I have accidentally hacked my brain into viewing all of mankind as my tribal ingroup, and God Almighty as my tribal outgroup. But it helps me, when I am down and being kicked, to know that this is a fight, and that my course is therefore clear: I can't give up. The only thing for it is to get up and kick back.

I've got plenty of kicking left in me.

Dan

The beautiful artwork is Dark Days: The Sandstorm by artist Sylvain Sarrailh. I hope they don't mind me using it here, but if so, just reach out to let me know, and I'll take it down.

[ancestorsofjudah]

1 Kings 1: 24-27. "Ambition." Why do you behave as you do?" Part 4.

24 Nathan said, “Have you, my lord the king, declared that Adonijah shall be king after you, and that he will sit on your throne? 

25 Today he has gone down and sacrificed great numbers of cattle, fattened calves, and sheep. He has invited all the king’s sons, the commanders of the army and Abiathar the priest. Right now they are eating and drinking with him and saying, ‘Long live King Adonijah!’ 

26 But me your servant, and Zadok the priest, and Benaiah son of Jehoiada, and your servant Solomon he did not invite. 

27 Is this something my lord the king has done without letting his servants know who should sit on the throne of my lord the king after him?”

These are the balancers we seek:

Cattle=

Fat Cow #1: the economy.

Fat Cow #2: freedom and democracy.

Fat Cow #3: modern technology (the automobile, electric can openers, the Internet).

Fat Cow #4: modern medicine (brain surgery, Prozac, tinted contact lenses).

Fat Cow #5: American Jewry (Albert Einstein, Steven Spielberg, Joe Lieberman).

Fat Cow #6: the political state of the nation (Jews living in the Jewish homeland under Jewish rule, etc.)

Fat Cow #7: the spiritual state of the nation (an abundance of Yeshivahs, synagogues, community centers, Parshah classes, Talmud classes, Kabbalah classes, rabbis, rebbes and gurus as never before).

Calves=unity with God whereas a golden calf is the end o' the line.

Sheep=one's interdependence with the caregiving and also caretaking responsibilities around onself

Abiathar=the cord that ties things together; critical thinking, the ability to grasp the most central theme or idea within the circumsntances

The Kings Sons minus Solomon=the Sefirot

Nathan= clear, full apprehension of circumstances

Zadok= righteousness

Benaiah=the Dynasty: build the relationship between the stone and the son

From Vayechi:

He arrived at the place and lodged there, because the sun had set, and he took some of the stones of the place and placed [them] at his head, and he lay down in that place. (Genesis 28:11)

Jacob called for his sons and said, “Gather, and I will tell you what will happen to you at the end of days. Gather and listen, sons of Jacob, and listen to Israel, your father.” (Genesis 49:1–2)

When Jacob left Beersheba for Haran, he stopped along the way to spend the night in a deserted place which would one day be the site of the Holy Temple. Gathering twelve stones together, he placed them under and around where he would lie down. As he laid his head down, the twelve stones fused to become one stone.

Jehoida=Learn as much as possible

Solomon= complete peace

The Gematria for the last verse says David had חהד‎אֶפֶס, hadapes 8540, a "castaway branch" a blind spot and thus Adonijah's flamboyance got out of control.

Our Tzaddik can't look like a Picasso portrait, all jumbled parts, evocative of a state of panic or runaway passions. Without conscience, the personality traits of a noble, the ability to negotiate with complex parties, and draw unbiased conclusions, one will inevitably find oneself capable of not very much at all.

The only choice is to shoot for the maximum amount of spiritual abundance and not to be shy about it.

[enigmatias]

verse drop

[headheartbellarke]

I Wish You Would | CHARLIE GILLESPIE

Requested by anon: “hello🌼 could u please write a charlie x reader imagine when he posts a picture on his instagram story with a girl to makes his crush jealous, but she end up distancing herself from him bc she's hurt and respect what she thinks is his relationship” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 2,445 WARNING(s): angst w a happy ending, some language SUMMARY: “I wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as I'd live."

A/N: hi, everyone!! really, really sorry that this took so long. haven’t had the best march tbh, and writer’s block is a bitch. && this isn’t very good, either, but i had to get something done. love u <3

TEN HOURS EARLIER

“And… post!” Charlie taps his phone, grinning brightly.

Owen cheers from behind him, his voice meshing into the humdrum of the bar they’re currently at. “I’m so proud of you!”

His friend laughs, spinning around in the bar stool to face him. “She’ll finally understand what it feels like!”

Owen nods frantically, taking another sip of the drink in his hand.

Charlie copies his movement – a part of him knows that he is absolutely hammered, but the bigger part of him doesn’t care. He’s had a long day, and he deserves this.

Besides, how else would he and his best friend have thought of this wonderful plan if they didn’t have a billion drinks in their system?

PRESENT

A knock on the door pulls Y/N from her thoughts. “Come in!” She yells, but her voice comes out feeble and hoarse, probably from all the crying she’s been doing for the past hour.

As the door swings open, her best friend, Savannah, pokes her head in. “Hey, babe. You all right?”

Y/N sniffs. “M’fine.”

Savannah enters the room, closing the door softly behind her. She walks to the window, opening the curtains, and Y/N groans when light floods into the previously dark room.

She sits on the bed beside Y/N, and Y/N rests her head on her shoulder as she pulls the covers up to cover their bodies.

“I’m sure that they’re not dating.” Savannah says, wrapping an arm around her best friend.

Y/N chuckles sadly. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Sav. I mean, in the photo, he was kissing her cheek. Literally. And he put a heart between them.”

Savannah sighs. “That’s so not Charlie, you know… kissing random girls in bars and posting pictures with them.”

“Yeah, that’s so not Charlie, because she’s not a random girl. Her name’s Francesca and she went to high school with him, so, technically, she’s known him longer, and probably better than me.”

“I – I had no idea.”

“Yeah.”

“Y/N, babe, just tell him about how you feel. I’m sure that he likes you too.”

“If he liked me, then he wouldn’t be kissing Francesca!”

Y/N exhales, as Savannah gulps, not knowing what to respond. “Y/N, I – I swear, he’s crazy about you. I don’t know what happened between last Friday and today, but I swear – the Charlie that I know – has eyes for no one but you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, feeling a pang in her heart at Savannah’s words. “Savannah, we kissed and then he ghosted me for a day and now he’s posting pictures of him kissing another girl! I think he has eyes for everyone!”

Savannah bites her lower lip, not knowing what to respond, again. Her best friend feels tears prick at the back of her eyes when she says, “Maybe I’m a bad kisser.”

Savannah’s eyes widen, and she sits up, straight. “No. No. Babe, no. Don’t say that, ever. You’re a great kisser, okay! You’re an amazing kisser. Your lips are fine as hell, believe me. He’s the one with crusty ass lips. They’re not even lips, they look like… like… peanuts.”

Y/N stares at her best friend for a moment, before saying, “Peanuts, Sav? Really?”

“It’s the first thing that came into my mind!” She says defensively, before the girls break into a fit of laughter.

“I’m never talking to him again, ever.” Y/N says after they’ve calmed down. “I’m never even gonna look in his direction. Fucking asshole.”

*

Charlie sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. It’s eight in the morning, and he’s normally a morning person – he loves the mornings, the peace, the quiet, and the feeling that comes along with it more than anything, but right now, he just feels… sad.

On regular days, he would be talking to his best friend, Y/N, about everything that’s on his mind. But today’s different.

Last Friday, Y/N kissed him, and long story sort, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to him. After work that day, they went to get some food at a drive through, like they usually do. All throughout the ride, they made plans to go hiking once the production for season two finishes. She drove the car to a lookout, and oh, god, it was so pretty. The midnight sky was littered with stars, and since they were at the edge of town, there was less pollution, and they could see bits of the galaxy, too.

But, for some reason, the girl next to him seemed more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen, and after they finished eating, he just sat and stared at her talk about the last book that she’d read, for a while. He knows that it was terrible that he wasn’t listening – but how could he pay attention to anything when she looked like that, especially with passion illuminating her face like times square on New Year’s Eve?

She had looked at him as if he’d just grown a third head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Li – like what?” He’d asked, embarrassed to be blatantly caught.

“Like that…” She’d said and kissed him, and it felt like he was seeing colour for the first time. Although, the next day, everything turned to shit.

Now, it’s Monday, and she’s nowhere to be seen. He desperately wants to know if his and Owen’s plan actually worked (no reason that it wouldn’t), and he feels so impatient right now, and he misses her. Also, his massive hangover isn’t helping, either.

He hears his name being called, and sees Kenny smiling at him.

“Hey, so we’re gonna do a different scene today, since Y/N and Savannah are out, is that okay with you?”

His heart races. “What happened to them?”

“Y/N’s sick, and Savannah’s taking care of her.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s okay with me.” He says, feeling his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

*

“This is the last time I’m asking you this…” Y/N sings, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Put my name at the top of your list!” Savannah sings, using Y/N’s straightener as a mic.

“This is the last time I’m asking you why!” Madison joins.

“You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye!” Jadah sings, jumping on the bed.

As the second verse comes on, the girls sit on Y/N’s bed, huddled close to each other.

“You know, I’m feeling better now than I did when I woke up.” Y/N says, resting her chin on her knees.

“Taylor Swift can fix anything.” Madison says, leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

She nods. “And y’all. Thanks for being here.”

Jadah grins, wrapping an arm around her. “We couldn’t let you have a pity party all alone!”

Savannah laughs. “I’m gonna kill him, I swear.”

“As relieving as that would be, don’t. I’ve decided what I should do.”

Madison quirks a brow. “You’re gonna kill him yourself?”

“Madi! No. I’m gonna distance myself.”

Savannah tilts her head. “I think that maybe you two should talk it out.”

“I don’t think so. I need space, time to figure it out. My head feels like a mess. And I respect him and Francesca, and I’m not gonna dip my toes between them.”

The other girls solemnly nod their head.

“You do realize that that’s not actually the saying?” Jadah says, after a while.

“Don’t embarrass me, kid.”

*

Charlie exhales, watching his breath crystallize to tiny ice particles in front of him. Even though, he’s a Canadian, he still feels cold. Although maybe it’s not due to the weather, but due to the coldness in Y/N’s eyes.

He watches her chat with Jeremy a few feet away, both of them discussing something that is out of bounds to him. He knows that it’s probably decisions regarding their characters, considering Y/N’s character is Jeremy’s character, Reggie’s love interest, but a part of him feels like it’s shit about him.

He has no reason to feel that way, of course. He hasn’t spoken to Y/N in four days, and this morning, when he saw her after for what feels to be eternity, he was blatantly ignored. He had only watched helplessly as Y/N exited the room the moment he entered and had sunk into his chair feeling like absolute shit, especially with everyone’s pitiful stares.

Charlie’s mind keeps replaying each moment, torturing over every tiny detail, wondering what he did wrong.

And that’s when it hits him: she really doesn’t want him anymore.

Last Saturday, he had hopelessly watched her with her long-term boyfriend of god-knows-how-long – he had come to surprise her on set, and it was Charlie that was more surprised. Because he thought that they were over, for good. And it wasn’t like they seemed like they weren’t dating. They were acting just like they used to when they were dating, and he was too close to her for his comfort. They still laughed the same, joked around the same, and were just as inseparable as they used to be.

A question kept rising in Charlie’s mind, like an icicle to his heart: why would she kiss him when she already had someone else? Why would she give him hope, and then take it all away? Why would she dangle his hurt in front of him?

So, he decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, and posted a picture with Francesca, his high school friend, who he had run into that night.

Owen sinks into the chair beside Charlie. “You okay?”

“I’m starting to believe that our plan didn’t work.”

*

“Hey, uh, Y/N?”

The girl in question hears Charlie’s voice, and turns around, avoiding looking into his eyes.

“Can we talk?” He says, and for a moment, her defences are down again. He looks so… tired, almost like he’s going through the same things that she is. Almost like there’s an explanation as to why he broke her heart, why he ruined something that had the potential to be extraordinary, why he made her feel so bad about herself.

And she almost believes it, too. Like the fool she is.

She presses her lips into a thin line, and says, “Nothing to talk about.”

As Charlie opens his mouth to protest, she smiles and walks away.

*

“Okay, Charlie, you two need to talk it out. This is too much. Both of you are obviously hurting, and there’s obviously some serious miscommunication here.”

Charlie shakes his head at Savannah’s words. “She hates me.”

“No. She could never hate you.” She says, thrusting her phone in Charlie’s face. His eyes squint to read the text on the screen – from Y/N.

Sorry – forgot to leave a note. Drove down to Dad’s, gonna stay here for a while. It’s too painful – honestly, you know what? I’m still very, very, very mad at him. But I’m also missing him very, very, very much. So, I need to flush it out. Flush him out. He might be a jerk, but he’s still one of the best people that I’ve ever met. Love you, okay? Will return when the time is right.

Charlie’s eyes widen, and he stares at Savannah’s face for a while. “There – there is still hope!”

She nods frantically. “You should call her –”

“I’m gonna drive down to her dad’s house, too!”

“That works, too.”

*

A frantic knock on the front door pulls Y/N from her thoughts. She stops typing on her keyboard, and flips the lid shut, keeping it on the dining table in front of her.

She runs to her dad’s door, knowing that it’s him, back from his shopping. She opens the door, saying, “Let me take those for – Charlie?!”

Y/N’s heart swells at his sight as he grins sheepishly.

“So, there’s been some misunderstandings… can I come in?” He asks, and Y/N pauses, considering.

He sighs, and adds, “Please?”

She stares at him.

He juts his bottom lip out. “Pretty please?”

“Fine, come in.”

He closes the door behind him, wordlessly following Y/N, who feels like she might hurl right now. They sit on the couch, and it’s really, really awkward for a few seconds.

Y/N sighs. “You said you –”

“Yes. Yes, yeah. OK, so – I, uh, I –”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why would you do that to me? Do I really mean that little to you?”

“I could say the same about you!”

“Really?”

“Yes! I saw you with Shahid that day, I know that you two are back together –”

“Shahid?!”

“Yes!”

She stares at him, baffled.

“So…so… Francesca….”

“I only posted the picture to make you jealous! She asked me if I wanted to go out with her and the rest of my high school friends, and of course I went, and she saw that I was being a little… unsocial. So, I told her about how the girl that I’m completely crazy about has a boyfriend! And a long term one at that, too! And then Owen came up with a brilliant plan, and I guess you know what it was. Now, I’m realizing that it might not have worked.”

She stares at him for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. Charlie throws her a confused look.

“You – you thought that Shahid – Shahid, my best friend since we were in nappies, Shahid who is married to this amazing man, and at whose wedding I was the maid of honour – you thought that I was dating him?”

“He’s gay?!”

“Bisexual. Oh my god, I have to tell him. This is hilarious.”

Charlie bites the corner of his lower lip, feeling his cheeks heat up. “This is really embarrassing. But you two act like you’re dating!”

“No, we don’t. You’re just being insecure and jealous. I’ve known him forever, and yes, I am the most comfortable around him. Because he’s my family. He’s my brother. Oh, god, I can’t believe that you were jealous of him – wait, have you thought that we were dating this whole time?”

“Kind of. I thought you guys broke up when he didn’t visit you on set during the first two months of production.”

“He was helping feed kids in Somali.”

“Oh. Oh. God, I feel so –”

“Dumb? That’s because you are.”

He grins sheepishly, his cheeks crimson.

Y/N smiles. “But I forgive you. And I wouldn’t mind if you took me on a proper date this time.”

“Deal. Also, promise that we’ll always talk it out before… you know… doing anything?”

She laughs, and nods. He wraps his pinkie finger around hers.

“Well, Owen’s plan did kind of work, though.”

[ariainstars]

The Mandalorian: Is He “Better Vader”?

This may sound funny, but please hear me out for a moment. 

The further I watch Star Wars’ new live-action tv show, the more I get the impression is that Mando is meant to be a positive version of Darth Vader (the “dark father”). 

Father figures usually don’t have a thankful role in this galaxy - either they are absent like Anakin’s, terrifying like Luke’s, or well-meaning but failing in their primary duty of keeping their child safe, like Ben’s. 

Not a few fans, though a little mockingly, like to call Kylo Ren “better Anakin” since his conflict is more fleshed out and the whole figure inspires more sympathy. My theory: is Mando meant to be “better Vader”? 

It was repeatedly and amply shown that the cause for the never-ending conflicts in the galaxy lie for a large part on the side of the Jedi, whose stuck-up attitude ultimately failed. Their order prohibited personal attachments, and even the wisest among them were not affectionate. This was what drove the all-powerful but passionate Anakin, who desperately wanted to have someone he could love and protect, to his ruin: the moment he finally became a father he also became a ruthless monster. Mando is introduced as a merciless bounty hunter, but as he opens up to the child, he becomes kinder and begins to find friends. He grows even more valiant, but also learns how to be gentle and caring. 

Since the Jedi are almost all extinct, but Force-sensitive children still are born throughout the galaxy, we are left with the question of what is to become of them. Some were brought to Luke’s new temple later, but we can assume that not all were identified. 

Mando’s little protegee is staying and making life experiences with a guy who doesn’t know anything about the Jedi and has no clue of the source of the child’s mysterious powers, but instinctively does the right things: he keeps him safe, instructs him, scolds him when necessary, and offers him friendship and companionship. (The Mandalorian who adopted him probably was a good father figure, too.) The child never sees his “father’s” face, but nevertheless he trusts him explicitly. Mando is the living proof that coolness and fighting qualities are not opposed to being gentle and caring.

Ben Solo’s tragic fate was the result of failed fatherhood: Luke did not know how to be a father because he had no children of his own and had had no role model, while Han did not trust his capacity to protect his son from his own powers.

The Parallels

Both Vader and Mando are soldiers. Though not Force-sensitive, Mando is extremely strong and well-versed in martial arts; he never shows his face; he wears an armor completed by a black cape which does not seem to have much practical use. He usually speaks only in short, clipped sentences and has a wry, sarcastic kind of humor. 

Vader was a follower of the Emperor, factually a slave who had no choice but to obey his master, and wherever he went he wreaked terror. Mando does take jobs from the bounty hunter’s guild, but essentially, he is a free man and often offers his services negotiating on his own terms. Noticeably, he fights against raiders and mercenaries or remnants of the Empire, peace following in his wake.

When he first reaches out for the baby, it looks like the opposite to another famous scene in the saga: here we have the adoptive but good father, while the other was the biological but cruel father.  Luke did not take his father’s hand, while the baby instinctively reached out to the man who had protected him.

Note also the scenic reversal: one figure is standing on the right side, hand with upturned fingers reaching out into a void, the scene is bathed in cold light. The other figure is standing on the left, hand reaching down, illuminated by warm light. 

When we do see his face once, Mando is lying down and helpless like Vader; he is not disfigured though and despite being injured, he is not dying. Shortly after this he finally accepts his task as the child’s father figure, while Vader died a few minutes after his unmasking and could not fulfil his fatherly task any more. Also, in both cases we learned the person’s real name not long before the mask went off: Anakin Skywalker respectively Din Djarin.

Given the saga’s love for cyclical narrative, this would make a lot of sense. Star Wars is telling us once more how important a protective and kind father is for a child, both as a role model and an attachment figure. We do not know yet how baby Yoda will turn out; but it would have made little sense for the storytellers to think up such a figure in the first place if they didn’t want him to go another (possibly better) way than his more famous predecessor. 

Is the galaxy at last healing after the terrible conflicts caused by both Jedi and Sith, and will the good fathers be responsible for a better future, maybe even for the long-awaited Balance in the Force? I hope so.

May the Force be with the Clan of Two. 😉

(On a side note: Vader / Anakin was in his mid-forties when he died. Din Djarin is about the same age.)

After the closure of Season 2, I would like to add a few details that also set Din Djarin apart from Anakin.

 Attachment vs. Affection

Anakin’s greatest weakness was his anxiety to lose the ones he loved. In the end, he sacrificed all of his ideals for the purpose of saving his pregnant wife. Luke also loved his friends and wanted to save them, but in that fateful moment before Palpatine, he realized that he would have had to give up his integrity for the purpose, and that was when he decided to throw away his weapon.

Din suffers deeply when he has to give up “his” child to a literal stranger for an indefinite time. However, he knows that it must be done because he does not have the knowledge to train him. Grogu also, reluctantly, lets go when he sees that his “father” is doing the same. This goes to show, again, that he is much stronger than Anakin.

 Following Rules vs Following One’s Heart

Like Anakin / Vader, Din takes his helmet off the moment he has to say goodbye to his child. The famous sentence “Just once, let me look on you with my own eyes” comes to mind. Vader was a Sith Lord and Anakin had been a Jedi. Both adhered strictly to their code: Anakin was a faithful Jedi until he became a Sith and Vader obeyed to the rules of the Sith until for a brief moment he acted like a Jedi again (and, also, like a father, which was a first). Mando unmasks not only before Grogu but also

-     Luke, who is a total stranger -     Moff Gideon, an enemy -     Bo-Katan, a possible potential enemy since she pursues the Dark Saber -     Fennec, an ally but not a friend -     Cara, a friend who never saw his face.

That he is willing for all of them to witness the moment he lifts his incognito shows that Mando is finally listening only to his heart. The Way of the Mandalore, which was his guideline for his entire adolescence and adult life (i.e. thirty years or more), has become less significant to him than the bond he has with Grogu.

Anakin’s tragedy was that he could not follow his heart but that some rules defined by an outside source always were in control. He wanted to be a husband and father and loyal friend, a mechanic and a pilot, not a Jedi or a Sith.

Ben Solo’s tragedy was the same; though not born a slave, he also had no choice about what to do with himself and his life. It was either being a Jedi or a Sith. But we know that he wanted to be a son and a lover, and a pilot.

The same fate occurred to Luke, many years later: the kind-hearted, affectionate young man from Tatooine, who so easily befriended everyone and always was compassionate and helpful became aloof and detached on being a Jedi, because he thought that was what this task required. But in the end, it was exactly what made him not understand and even fear his nephew, with disastrous results.

Din Djarin chose the way of the heart, he is no longer adhering to “the Way”: he said himself that now he can’t put his helmet back on. (Alternatively, he could put it on again, but that would mean defying the Way otherwise.) Grogu has witnessed that a man can very well choose family over a code that was taught to him, even if he adhered to it all of his life. Luke is the one who carries him away, but Grogu looks over his shoulder to his “father”. Luke may become his teacher, but Grogu’s role model, his hero, will always be Din; as it was for Ben with his father Han.

 Hints at the Future

Anakin died twice: once on Mustafar, where he also lost his blue light sabre, and on the second Death Star, where he had lost the red one. Din Djarin, at the end of this part of this journey, receives a sabre, although he never wanted it.

With the Dark Saber, a new fate is awaiting Mando. Is his destiny that of being the warrior-king, protective and honorable, that ought to have been Anakin’s place? Maybe. As they say, the best leaders are the reluctant ones. 😊

[greatcelestialhieroglyphs]

Bitter Water Analysis:

So essentially I got board and obsessed with Dear Wormwood once again and I decided to analyze it lyric by lyric. I know plenty of people do this I just thought it would be neat to really tie everything together, and especially to pinpoint the crazy amount of biblical references. This is the first time I've done something like this and it was super fun!

Lyric by lyric:

Oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh

Oh fair and flighty love

My aerolite above

The only dove I see

This is our introduction to the lover, they are described as an aerolite- which is a meteorite, and a dove- which is a Biblical symbol of peace and innocence.

Could you love me more

If by the sun and moon I swore

That I would never flee?

The narrator promises not to leave the relationship.

The imagery of the sun and moon, paired with the earlier aerolite and dove, paints the lover as something heavenly.

Well, I still taste you on my lips

Lovely bitter water

This is where it gets really interesting.

The ordeal of the bitter water was a Jewish tradition described in both the Bible and the Talmud. It was trial by ordeal administered a wife whose husband suspected her of adultery but who had no witnesses to make a formal case.

In the book of Numbers in the Old Testament of the Bible, God gives a series of instructions to Moses regarding his priests. If a woman were accused of adultery, she drank bitter water. If she had been unfaithful, it was said the bitter water would enact a curse upon her that would cause her body to swell. The nature of the curse, which is better described by the Talmud, is debated upon. It ranges from damage to her reproductive organs, to a curse of miscarriage, to immediate death.

And the priest shall write these curses in a scroll, and he shall blot them out into the water of bitterness. 24 And he shall make the woman drink the water of bitterness that causeth the curse; and the water that causeth the curse shall enter into her and become bitter.

-Numbers 5 JPS 1917

With this in mind, we can conclude that the narrator is being unfaithful by pursuing this relationship. The question is to whom?

The terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue

This is the first time the lover is linked to fire (but not the last.)

The biblical source of Revelation (a book we’ll be seeing a lot more of) contains this verse:

Take it and eat it. It will turn your stomach sour, but in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey.

“It” is a scroll that God gave to John, instructing him to prophecy about the end of times. What is important is the metaphor of something being momentarily sweet yet ultimately harmful.

And I know I shouldn't love you

I know I shouldn't love you

But I do

The narrator knows the relationship is toxic on some level, yet is still infatuated by their lover

I feel it in my soul

I feel the empty hole

The cup that can't be filled

The idea that everyone has an inherent “emptiness” is prominent in Christian theology. This emptiness is caused by the sinful narrater of humanity and their need for God to meet their needs.

But whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.

Jonh 4:14 ESV

Despite the narrator’s passioned relationship, their lover is ultimately incapable of sustaining them.

I feel it in my blood

In the fire and the flood

The beast that can't be killed

The “beast” is their sinful nature.

Even now you mark my steps

Lovely bitter water

Oh, the days of our delights are poison in my veins

I know I shouldn't love you

I know

It may be a stretch, but while researching I came across this:

They gather together, They hide, they mark my steps, When they lie in wait for my life.

Psalm 56:6 NKJV

In this verse, “they” refers to the singer (David)’s enemies. He is asking God to deliver him from them. This is just interesting.

Days of delight turning to poison is reminiscent of honey on the tongue turning sour.

I am not a fool entire

No, I know what is coming

You'll bury me beneath the trees I climbed

When I was a child

I know I shouldn't love you

Well, I know I shouldn't love you

But I do

The narrator acknowledges that the relationship will turn fatal, yet still pursues it.

“You’ll bury me beneath the trees I climbed when I was a child” brings two songs to mind.

The first is the traditional folk song Bury Me Beneath the Willow. The song's lyrics relate that the singer's lover has left her. She asks that she be buried beneath the willow tree, in the hopes that her lover will still think of her. In the version of the lyrics, these are the ones that stuck out to me-

She told me that she dearly loved me

How could I believe it untrue?

Until an angel softly whispered

She could never care for you

The second is another Oh Hellos song from their first EP, Trees. Climbing trees is exhibited as an act of youth, as children are bold and unafraid of falling.

Climbing trees;

Haven't much since we were children

Shaking limbs

Tend to end up bent and broken

Conclusion:

Bitter Water introduces the lover and describes their toxic relationship with the narrator. This is the main conflict of the story so it’s pretty important. That’s it. That’s all I got.

[monstersdownthepath]

Deity: Haselfrons, the Fey King of Candlelight

(Art by @blinkpen​!)

Lawful Neutral Archfey of Overwhelming Knowledge, Candles, and Rituals

Domains: Fire, Knowledge, Law, Magic Subdomains: Arson, Thought, Legislation, Rites Favored Weapon: Spear Symbol: A lit candle sitting atop a book. Sacred Animal: N/A Sacred Color: Red, orange

There was once a glorious library owned by none other than Shyka the Many, the wisest of the Eldest, who attended to it so dutifully and kept it so rigidly organized that when the Lantern King saw it for the first time, he nearly turned himself inside-out with how hard he began heaving.

“Lighten up a little!” He chided, juggling a pair of blazing scrolls that came ever-so-close to catching an entire shelf afire, “A thousand-thousand of you and not a single one has a sense of humor!” Oh how he laughed as the Many fought to get him out of her precious archives before the whole thing went up in smoke.

“ENOUGH of you, you wicked king!” Shyka cried, finally locking the Lantern King in a glass jar, which she would soon hurl to the bottom of the ocean just to get a few years peace from the cackling conflagration that now whorled in his prison, amused by the whole situation.

“Wicked king?” He mused, before an oh-so-devilish idea struck him. “I’ll show you a wicked king!” And with the snap of his metaphorical fingers, one of the candles that carefully lit Shyka’s archives woke up. Then, as its body began to form from wax and wood, it finally found a voice. It began to scream. “HAH! WICKED! GET IT?” Boomed the Lantern King over the shriek of the awakened candle, and he laughed until the waves of the ocean swallowed his every sound.

Haselfrons’ life began as a joke, and he will never forgive that.

Haselfrons did eventually stop screaming, but it would take many tries for Shyka to discover that they were the reason for the scream; it was not a scream of terror, but of pain. The stories passed about by young Fey and perhaps recounted within children’s books gloss over many important details regarding the creation of the so-called Candle King, the largest being the reason why he began to scream. The Lantern King had, for his own reasons, gifted Haselfrons with a most unique gift: “All that his light shines upon, he shall know.”

But call it a ‘gift’ to the Candle King’s face, and earn yourself a bath of boiling wax at best. Whatever enters the light of Haselfrons’ glowing head is immediately and thoroughly analyzed, every scrap of information that could possibly be divined from the object or person rammed into the forefront of the King’s consciousness like a battering ram crashing through the front gates of an unprepared kingdom. Take, for example, a humble book: not only will the contents of a book be slammed into his mind, but the composition of the paper, the person or place who manufactured the book, exactly what sort of thread and glue went into the bindings, and countless other pieces of meaningless information that he has no use for. The deluge of unwanted understanding is almost always painful and disorienting as he rapidly pushes through the tide to get back on track, and enough information being presented at once can flat-out overwhelm the poor wick’d king and knock him clean out.

It is perhaps understandable that Hazel’s (as Shyka affectionately calls him) general attitude can be summed up as “joyless and unpleasant.” Wracked by constant headaches, Hazel’s impatience with more or less anyone means he tends to lurk in lonely rooms and hallways completely devoid of light but for the gentle flickering gloom of his own head, sulking as he performs his duty: creating new candles and servant spirits for Shyka’s many needs. You’d be surprised how many of both that Shyka and their acolytes go through in their day-to-day duties, but Hazel himself is no slouch in that department either. Leave it to the eerie candle to enjoy the strangeness of rituals.

Hazel found a sort of passion in ritual magic, in the same way that some may take to gardening or building cities out of matchsticks. They were calming for him despite the chaos they could cause, as he enjoyed their structure, admiring their construction as an engineer may marvel at a new and wondrous machine. He’s dedicated time to creating his own as well, seeing just how magic can be bent through the power of ceremony rather than study. More importantly, though, rituals can also be done by just about anyone, which means that people coming to Hazel to learn of them will get what they come for and leave.

There’s little more he wants than to simply be left alone to his duties, working with and learning what he wants to rather than what is forced on him. Anyone who intrudes on his solitude is met with a stern warning of the exact distance they’re allowed to approach; business must be conducted quickly, following his rules exactly, or any meeting with the Candle King ends in ash.

-------- Obedience and Boons --------

Haselfrons has a love/hate relationship with the idea of faith. On one hand, the prayers and pleads for assistance are irritating. On the other, it’s nice to be needed, especially when you were created to be. It scratches an itch that builds in him whenever Shyka is tending to her own business, and knowing he’s helped someone brings him light relief from his otherwise constant headaches. Still, those who decide to pledge themselves to the Candle King will find little kindness or patience granted from their god, especially if they become bold enough to try and seek him out in person. Nightmares find endless inspiration in the ways Hazel has learned to use wax and fire when dealing with any who break his rules, especially his rules regarding personal space. Wicked King, indeed.

The initial reason one may seek him out is for his aforementioned talents; the identification of mysterious artifacts or people is a service he reluctantly offers, his analyzing light an endlessly valuable asset for Shyka and for those who can convince (pay) him enough to put it to use. Seekers of the burning Archfey will also find few creatures better versed in the art of occult rituals, which is perhaps the biggest reason many seek him out in the first place. Those who wish to become his supplicants typically take on the duties of archivists (or the guardians of archives), lore seekers, magical experimenters, construct craftsmen, invokers of spirits and fey, and candle-makers.

Haselfrons demands and expects little from his worshipers, whose primary “duty” is to become skilled enough with the Candle King’s numerous invocations and ceremonies that anyone seeking him out can ask one of them instead and leave him the hell alone. Adventurers in his service are often, as mentioned, lore-seekers hoping to earn faevors from their waxen lord by bringing him new and interesting bits of magic to tinker with, or who put his works into practice in the Material Plane in order to report their findings to him. Making them is fun, but knowing they WORK is one of the scant handful of things in existence that makes Hazel feel joy.

Perhaps the most important duty an adventurer in the service of the Candle King can have, though, is the utter destruction and humiliation of the servants of the Lantern King. Haselfrons demands little, but if an opportunity to absolutely ruin one of the Lantern King’s pranks arises, he’ll go out of his way to get in contact with any servants he has in the area and order them to take the chance. Nothing pleases the wicked king like getting petty revenge against the fool who gave him a cursed life, especially when it ends in the Laughing Lie losing yet another toy or pawn. ... But be warned, the Lantern King may not take such offenses on the chin, and it won’t be Hazel getting the brunt of the retaliatory swing...

Using the Fey Obedience feat, a worshiper of Haselfrons gains certain Boons upon reaching a certain amount of Hit Dice. These Boons are granted at 12HD, 16HD, and 20HD, though the Feysworn Prestige Class allows someone to achieve the Boons much, much sooner. Hazel’s status as an Archfey means he grants very simple Boons; spell-like abilities that may each be cast 1/day.

Obedience: Use a lit candle to burn a book or scroll, or light a fire with a candle and throw at least one book or scroll into it. Once it has turned to ash and cinders, gather some of the burned literature into a small pile, and pour a small amount of wax from the lit candle onto it. Benefit: Gain a +4 sacred or profane bonus on skill checks to cast a ritual.

Boon 1: Hypercognition

Boon 2: Furious Fire Barrage

Boon 3: Elemental Swarm

Haselfrons has no delusion of becoming an Eldest; the Lantern King would never allow it, and he’s perfectly comfortable being left to his own devices.