#metaphysical writing

[histhoughtslately]

When love finds you again, I wish for you that is kind, gentle, loving, peaceful and tranquil. May it make you smile again, laugh often, dance like no one’s watching, and support your true self without condition.

[and-the-times-we-had]

Free my man (Curufinwë Fëanáro) he did a number of things wrong, but I want to see him learn and grow as a person by properly interacting with the world and other people in it (elves just getting completely "fixed" in mandos with no need to deal with any issues once they're out is not as interesting to me as them getting released when they do still have stuff to work on imo).

[nyc-pizza-rat]

okay thinking about her

the tree bark at his back scratches him as he shifts. there are bruises on his skin that sting. he feels the slide of blood at his temple, unsettling and unfamiliar, even after all these years. castiel looks down at his hands, a little calloused, now, and wrinkling, and tries to center himself. there is dirt on his palms, under his fingernails. a small cut on his index finger that is loud and sharp. he curls his fists and tries to reach within himself. the well of his grace has been running low for a while, now, and castiel hasn't been sure of...well, anything.

it's harder to find his dimming grace within, here in purgatory. harder still to coax it to the surface. sweat beads at his brow but castiel keeps his fingers clenched, mumbles to himself in enochian — words to songs of praise and comfort and strength that mean so little now, and yet come to him easy.

there is a thin stream of silver light, and castiel heaves a breath, sinks further into the hollow of the tree. he unclenches his fist, and there are red half-moons carved into his palm. the cut is gone, but there is a scar, still, and castiel cannot stop looking at it. it looks like a thin tear in fabric, like the cracks in between the worlds that let them through. it looks like the beginning of the end.

he rubs his thumb over the scar, feels the slight raise of his skin. his thoughts begin to spin, and all he can focus on is the heat building at the back of his neck, the rushing of blood in his ears. suddenly, then, a ripple within. a breeze by his ear that pull at his core. that compels him to quiet, to listen.

someone, somewhere, is invoking him in prayer.

his grace surges now, easy as it hasn't been in a while, and while it doesn't heal him still, castiel feels more angel than he has in a long time.

Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late.

castiel sighs, something inside him relaxing. he hadn't even noticed the way his muscles had been pulled taut. hadn't noticed the tendrils of fear creeping into his heart. dean's alive. dean's alive.

I should've stopped you.

castiel swallows. digs his fingers into his thighs. his grace spins out, trying to find the source of the prayer. It's harder than it is on earth, and harder than it should be for an angel of his caliber, but castiel keeps trying.

You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.

castiel wishes dean would stop saying these things. he bites his cheek, listening, following dean's voice. he's always following dean's voice, even when he doesn't want to.

I – Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that it's – i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how –

dean breaks, and castiel pauses, stares at the blinking doorway that will lead them back onto earth. back into a battle that they are bound to lose. he thinks about jack, lost forever. about chuck, who cannot be beaten. about the pointlessness of what they are doing, the desperation with which he has been clinging to hope.

— how bad I want to, I just can't stop it.

he wishes he could see dean. there is something solid pressing against the back of his throat, like he has swallowed a rock, like it is blocking the air. his eyes sting. he wishes dean would just — just talk to him.

And — And I — I forgive you. Of course I forgive you.

castiel shakes his head. his wings are more bone than anything else, skeletons he lugs around because he cannot bear to sever them from his trueform. now they twitch, twined with his grace as they are. castiel lets them curl inwards, pretends he can feel them whole, their warmth, the comfort of it.

I'm sorry it took me so long – I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm – I'm so sorry.

castiel forgives him, despite everything. thinks he'd forgiven him long before this, before dean ever thought to ask. he wonders if dean knows that castiel doesn't know how to loathe him, even if he wanted to.

longing surges out to him, the pull of the prayer strengthened by cords of need, of want.

dean thinks he's dead, and he's desperate for him to not be. castiel knows what dean can be like, when he loses those he considers kin, when he's even faced with the prospect of losing them.

Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me.

longing can feel a lot like love.

angels were never meant to decipher the nuances of human emotion, and despite all the time he's spent on earth, even castiel is not all that good at it. so when prayer is made with longing, it can feel a lot like love.

and maybe it is. castiel doesn't know.

it's almost unsettling, the way warmth bleeds into his trueform, as dean finishes praying, as he makes his way closer. castiel tries to reign in his weak grace, pulsing away under his skin. tries to not let himself get carried away.

he looks up at the grey sky, the sunless world he is trapped in. he thinks about the empty. he thinks about his son.

maybe it isn't. human love is so complicated, after all.

somewhere to his right, footsteps. castiel breathes, wills his lungs to loosen, his heart to slow. he pulls the leviathan blossom out of his coat pocket. all that fighting and the fidgeting has smushed it a little. he rubs a thumb over one of its strange petals, and puts it back in his coat.

dean is getting closer. castiel can hear him breathing now. can hear the way his heart races.

he gathers himself and pushes out of the hollow of the tree. straightens a little.

"dean," he calls. he sounds tired, even to his own ears. human. god. "you made it."

[cyborgized]

I love you in a place where space or time doesn’t exist. Where love isn’t measured in moments or held back by distance. It doesn’t wait for the right time, nor does it fear the wrong one. It simply is.

Maybe in another life, in another world, we wouldn’t have to fight the circumstances. Maybe there, you wouldn’t have to hold back, and I wouldn’t have to wonder what if. But even here, even now, my love for you isn’t something bound by reality. It doesn’t belong to a yesterday we lost or a tomorrow we may never have. It exists in the now, untouched by reason, unshaken by what should or shouldn’t be.

You’re not just a person to me. You’re a presence, a feeling, a quiet storm that never truly fades. And even if this world refuses to let us be, I will love you beyond it. In a place where nothing can reach us, where space or time has no hold.

— Chamod Senevirathna

[kimblestudies]

january 28

-> reading plato's section of reality for metaphysics and epistemology

->studying arguments, inductive vs. deductive reasoning, and more for my logic quiz tomorrow afternoon.

->been having good luck with my copywriting career.

->go check out k9s.org, I'm so fucking serious.

-> I have a desk position now. Full-time Student Government Association for the newspaper.

-> Our college has been doing Marriage Pact and they just dropped

-> I know I haven't really been active but I'm doing well, guys, I promise 💌

🎧Maniac by Michael Sembello

[illusionremember]

Chuck is so much smaller than he thinks he is.

Like, okay. Supernatural said God is a writer, yes? Let's carry out that thought. We've talked about Chuck being a representation, by the end, of the CW executives, pushing for a particular narrative. God as the creator and God as the controller of the narrative. But Supernatural has always been about Free Will within the context of a narrative that someone else controls, yeah?

God is a writer. Chuck isn't the writer, not really. He's just another character. He too is at the whims of THE writers, the showrunners, the network executives. God isn't just a writer. God is a network exec who's never even been on set or watched the show but just stares at viewer stats tables and sends notes off to the writer's room. More of this character. Dial back the homo here.

But primarily, God is a creator. And there are more creators in TV than just writers. God is a set designer, crafting the Bunker to be their home, their safe place. God is the makeup artist, painting blood on their teeth. God is the director, the cinematographer, who choose what we see of the world.

God is each actor. God's touch is in every acting choice, ever gesture and touch and glance. God's control isn't just looking at the script and hitting backspace over the parts he doesn't like or approve of. It's resetting and doing 27 takes because they need this emotion to come across just right, it's the actor that incarnates the character saying "no Dean wouldn't say I love you here, but he would say I need you" which is so much bigger and deeper.

God isn't just about controlling the narrative. God is about exploring the narrative. Throw these characters in a box and shake it and see what they do. Any author can tell you that their characters will surprise them sometimes with something that they didn't plan on. Fall in love with a character they weren't scripted to, make choices or reveal backstory the author didn't know about. The best writers will follow those threads and see where they go. God is seeing Misha Collins as lightning in a bottle and saying let's see where this goes, because Castiel had so much more to say and do, because Cas looked into Dean's eyes and said yeah well. We're making it up as we go.

Sometimes there are threads the author didn't even see being drawn out of the tapestry. I read once that Amy Tan had talked about reading student analyses of The Joy Luck Club and being pleasantly surprised by the poignant things students noticed, the patterns they traced out, things she wasn't even consciously aware she was writing.

God is every viewer and every fanwork creator. Every fanartist who says wait, i see something here, let me show you. If God is a writer, than God is also every fanfic writer who says wait, I see a different version of things, I see more of this moment, I see this missing scene, let me show you. Let me share it with you.

You will never convince me that Cas and Dean only fell in love in one universe. I read. I write, too. I see glimpses into thousands of other universes. I see them fall in love in coffee shops and penthouses and gardens, as demons and angels and mermaids and witches and normal-ass humans with normal-ass jobs.

Chuck isn't the all-powerful God he thinks he is. He's just a character. He has no power here. He has no more power over the narrative than Dean or Cas or Sam do. Their choices matter. Free Will is a length of rope, and God may want you to hang yourself, but instead, we're throwing it out the window and climbing out.

[noyoucantdonteventry]

see now they really fucked up by letting me write my final essay about star trek bc i go to do "research" and then suddenly i'm looking at drawings of grown men kissing for an hour

[edennill-archived]

For if I ever write the "Finrod & Beren maybe-not-exactly-canonically reuniting in Mandos for a while" fanfic — Finrod's actual farewell before Beren is reembodied:

"I cannot promise you that I will meet you again. But I want to. And it's not impossible—" his voice lowered into a whisper, "—Or even improbable. So till then, my brother in arms, cousin by marriage, kinsman — by every right and law."

[nemralam]

Secants intersect each other only once, and then never meet

Source: The Structure of the Universe and the Fate of the Cosmos by Stephen Hawking (2001). Soundtrack: "Tum Nazar Mein Raho" by Atif Aslam, from Laila Majnu (2018).

[histhoughtslately]

Listen up! You already have this superpower. Stop letting people’s shitty perceptions be your kryptonite! You are way too strong and intelligent for their obvious tactics! 💫

[sunshades]

back to pc- i actually havebeen considering mysterious mirror world limbo for (coughs) oneshot purposes like weird dreamscape situation where everything feels kind of distant and not entirely corporeal but still good enough to communicate if only for a while before you wake up again and and okay weird sex in the empty spiritual white room?

[crooked-wasteland]

The Existential Separation of Heaven and Hell

The first question to ask is why are the settings of Heaven and Hell? 

It is why this is a rewrite or fanfiction and not being drafted as its own fantasy world devoid from the lineage of Hazbin Hotel. While Medrano’s version could have been set anywhere, separate of questions about God and religion, mine cannot. In fact, the entire story hinges on this dichotomy of cultural perception and history through the lens of theology. 

But more than being a critique of religion as a construct, it is a tomb in which a part of myself is buried. I’ve spoken briefly about my background in religion. My relationship with religion is the focus of the design, as is the state of Hell being a meaningless continuation of current life being the embodiment of my experience walking away from all the gods. Because I didn’t lose faith in my God as it were, I realized God has always ever been an apathetic observer to life itself. It made me see God himself as being morally bankrupt. 

The idea that he would help me pass a test but allow an entire family to die in a freak accident. That God was more concerned with two lovers—pure in their devotion—not presenting themselves before him for approval, than he was with children being beaten, tortured, or killed by their own parents. That it was more important that I hated people who loved differently than it was to hate those who wish harm to others. 

I didn’t see contradiction in that God; I saw a chaotic continuity. It wasn’t something made of love, but a creature drenched in apathy. My nihilism wasn’t born from a void left by an absent God; it was born from the void I saw inside Him. 

And that is a fundamental part of this story: My truth that God himself is an empty throne. He may sit upon it; he may not, but the outcomes are ever the same in his absence and his presence. 

Meanwhile, the origination of Hell as a human continuation of existence cut off from any god is to challenge you, regardless of your personal beliefs, to enter a world where nothing you do matters because you are cut off from that divinity. You are no longer required to keep striving for anything, no longer forced to seek sovereign approval. To confront you with that radical freedom to live purely free without consequence and be whoever you want to be. 

Will you become violent, cruel, debased?  When given no authoritarian consequences for your actions are you suddenly a demon, or are you simply you? 

I am of the firm belief that when faced with that ledge, what Camus would call “Absurd Freedom”, they quickly look away. There is an existential anxiety attached to that place, what Kierkegaard called “Angst”. Kierkegaard wrote, “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” The feeling of this concept is like standing on an edge over which you see nothing but darkness below. Would you have the fortitude to leap—or do you believe you would simply sink; becoming undone by freedom. For all the misery you have lived through to this point, regardless of whether it is great or comparatively small, is your sense of self so brittle that, without the threat of punishment, it crumbles? And if it crumbles—was it ever truly yours, or merely something you were assigned? 

My position is akin to a Kierkegaardian ‘leap of faith’, but not toward a god. Rather, a leap toward the human spirit. My world asserts that, no, most of us would not suddenly abandon our humanity just because the divine scaffolding has vanished. In fact, I believe many wouldn’t even confront it – they would simply continue, propelled by inertia. 

This state of drifting inertia, of surviving without living, is not new. Many have written about it from varied perspectives: 

Albert Camus – What he calls a “refusal to revolt” or assert one’s own existence; continuing to live while pretending you don’t have to choose how to do so. Soren Kierkegaard – What he called the “aesthetic life”.  Living for a beauty defined by wanton pleasure, detached irony, and distraction is a refusal to confront the radical freedom of choice in the name of silencing the anxiety it brings. Friedrich Nietzsche – What he named “herd morality”: the values we’ve constructed out of fear of the unknown, the resentment of the other, or for a convenient comfort rather than our own initiative built from will. What many erroneously see as a disavowal of social responsibility is actually Nietzsche’s attempt at demanding personal responsibility for our social beliefs. Simone de Beauvoir – What she called “Bad Faith” or the rejection of personal responsibility by pretending the systems we live in weren’t chosen. Her philosophy asserts that there is nothing wrong with living inside these systems, but it is a wicked lie to say we couldn’t choose something else. Michel Foucault – What he metaphorically called the “Panopticon Prison” or the state of internalized discipline and self-regulation for the benefit of institutional control. Carl Jung – What he would call the “Unintegrated Shadow”. Jung, though a psychologist and not a philosopher, is included because his theories reflect the same “institutionalization” of the Self—one that begins within us and which many live their entire lives denying responsibility of. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel – His philosophies compliment the rest by his mere definition of a “self”; not simply a thing, but a process in the same constant motion as the Solar System. You don’t exist on your own—you become who you are by being seen, challenged, and understood by others. His theory is hard to explain plainly, but think of it like this: You can’t understand a bird by looking at a feather. You have to see how that feather works with the wind and the anatomy of the bird’s hollow bones, and the motion of flight. The same is true of people—truth isn’t in the pieces; it’s in the synthesis. And that synthesis doesn’t have a clean ending; it can continue infinitely unless it is intentionally stopped short.  His definition of inertia, then, is the willful refusal to engage with the process.  Martin Heidegger – What he would call “Inauthenticity”, much like de Beauvoir’s Bad Faith, is a passive avoidance of one’s own truth. But where her philosophy focused on awareness of the self, he fixated on the awareness of time. Our pursuit of comfort and safety in the present is simply a means of ignoring that the inevitability of death gives urgency to life. We will die no matter what but living without agency is to act like we shall live forever. 

This is what defines the state of Hell. Not just what it is (a continuation of life without access to any god) but also why (to confront the material reality of the human condition we are living in). My Heaven and my Hell are a challenge unto you to radically accept the raw reality of life through fantasy. To travel through the valleys of the shadow of death without a god and without comfort and see how far you can go. See if you can create divinity rather than hide beneath it. 

[gargiyadav]

How do you wrap your head around the mess?

Does anybody have a manual on how to do it?

For our two bare feet, it is a line too thin 

that we are treading. 

You hold your breath somewhere in the middle, 

And somewhere in the middle, you end up crying 

Rivers that don’t even wet the ground below. 

To you, you let out tempestuous sighs, 

But they don’t even cause a leaf to flinch

A butterfly’s flapping causes a tornado? 

But a wretched heart’s throbbing

How is that nothing?  

You look behind and you look forward, 

But you do not look within.

Haste not, faith will emerge.

After a millennium or a day,

who knows?

There's no guarantee

A hundred wars or just one more,

Before he appears in saffron and gold

"What is there to hold on to?"

There’s a sky, look up,

Coloured with imperial blue, 

You find yourself amidst the green facade,

That reminds you of all gentle things, 

Of vitality that springs up from within

But just underneath, a creation of the same creator,

Waiting to gulp you whole. 

But just as the fear starts to cripple you, you learn to join your hands. 

A magically humbling thing

Do not worry, you’ve got to do it a million times,

Till help comes.

You might fall

You might die a terrible death

who knows, but you gotta do the praying. 

A random outpour of heaviness

@gargiyadav

[authenticity2025]

When love finds you again, I wish for you that is kind, gentle, loving, peaceful and tranquil. May it make you smile again, laugh often, dance like no one’s watching, and support your true self without condition.

[journey-to-balance]

Nine Ways to Growth & Peace of Mind

Organic Stream of Consciousness Thoughts - Spiritual Alchemy

1. Do Not Interfere In Others’ Business Unless Asked

Most of us create our own problems by interfering too often in others’ affairs. We do so because somehow we have convinced ourselves that our way is the best way, our logic is the perfect logic and those who do not conform to our thinking must be criticized and steered to the right direction, our direction. This thinking denies the existence of individuality and consequently the existence of God within us. Each one of us is unique. No two human beings can think or act in exactly the same way. All men or women act the way they do because their contracts prompt them that way. Why are you bothered? Mind your own business and you will keep your peace.

2. Forgive And Release

This is the most powerful aid to peace of mind. We often develop ill feelings inside our heart for the person who insults us or harms us. Nurtured grievances result in loss of sleep and eventually the development of stomach ulcers and high blood pressure. The insult or injury was done once, but nourishing of grievance goes on forever by constantly remembering it. Get over this bad habit. Believe the doctrine of Karma. Release the injury and remember the lesson. Life is too short to waste your energy on remembering insults and injuries. Forgive, release, remember the lesson and move on. Love flourishes in giving and forgiving. 3. Do Not Crave Recognition

The world is full of selfish people who seldom praise anybody without selfish motives. They may praise you today because you are in power, but no sooner than you are powerless, they will forget your achievement and will find faults in you. Why do you wish to give away your power in striving for their recognition? Their recognition is not worth your depletion of valuable energy. Also, do not seek a guru. Giving away your power by following a teacher without questioning depletes your energy and dulls the fine discerning abilities that are innate within you. Question your teachers and take away the teachings. 4. Do Not Be Jealous

We all have experienced how jealousy can disturb our peace of mind. There are many examples of jealousy in everyday life. Should you be jealous? No. Remember everybody’s life is shaped by his or her previous Karma, which has now become his destiny. If you are destined to be rich, nothing in the world can stop you. If you are not so destined, no one can help you either. Nothing will be gained by blaming others for your misfortune. If you are jealous because your loved one has directed their attention away from you for a moment, why does that cause you pain? Jealousy will not get you anywhere. It will only take away your peace of mind. 5. Change Yourself According To The Environment

If you try to change the environment single-handedly, the chances are you will fail. Instead, change yourself to suit your environment. As you do this, even the environment, which has been unfriendly to you, will mysteriously change and seem congenial and harmonious. This is the best way to turn a disadvantage into an advantage. Every day we face numerous inconveniences, ailments, irritations, and accidents that are beyond our control. If we cannot control them or change them, we must learn to transform our energy fields and our minds by running the energies through our bodies. You will gain in terms of patience, inner strength and will power and witness transformation all around you. 6. Do Not Bite Off More Than You Can Chew

This maxim needs to be remembered constantly. We sometimes take on more responsibilities than we are capable of managing. Are you doing this to satisfy your ego or make someone else happy? Know your limitations. Why take on additional loads that may create more worries? You cannot gain peace of mind by expanding your external activities. Reduce your material engagements and spend time in prayer, introspection and meditation. This will reduce the thoughts in your mind that make you restless. An uncluttered mind will produce greater peace of mind. 7. Meditate Regularly

Meditation calms the mind and gets rid of disturbing thoughts. This is the highest state of peace of mind. Try and experience it yourself. If you meditate earnestly for half an hour everyday, your mind will tend to become peaceful during the remaining twenty-three and half-hours. Try meditation upon waking and then again in the evening as you take thirty minutes for yourself to observe the earth moving into the restfulness of night. As you practice meditation, your mind will not be as easily disturbed as it was before. You would benefit by gradually increasing the period of daily mediation. You may think that this will interfere with your daily work. On the contrary, this will increase your efficiency and you will be able to produce better results in less time. 8. Never Leave The Mind Vacant

An empty mind is the devil’s workshop. All evil actions start in the vacant mind created from living in the negative influences of idle chatter, watching television and participating in gossip. Keep your mind occupied in something positive and worthwhile. Actively follow a hobby. Do something that holds your interest. You must decide what you value more: money or peace of mind. Your hobby, like social work or temple work, may not always earn you more money, but you will have a sense of fulfillment and achievement. Even when you are resting physically, occupy yourself in healthy reading or mental chanting. 9. Do Not Procrastinate And Never Regret

Do not waste time in protracted wondering “ Should I or shouldn’t I?” Days, weeks, months, and years may be wasted in that futile mental debating. You can never plan enough because you can never anticipate all future happenings. Value your time and do the things that need to be done. It does not matter if you fail the first time. You can learn from your mistakes and succeed the next time. Sitting back and worrying will lead to nothing. Learn from your mistakes, but do not brood over the past. DO NOT REGRET. Whatever happened was destined to happen only that way.