#a tros ity

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Have you seen the recent Adam driver interview re: redeemed Ben solo never being part of the original plans? Apparently JJs idea as pitched to Adam was 'reverse Vader' who begins the trilogy all uncertain and vulnerable and becomes super evil by the third film 😂 considering the mess that was duel of the fates, I'm not surprised. Adam said he was still 'focused' on JJs original arc even though it changed over shooting. Which is baffling to me, because even in TFA you can't seriously believe this character could go stone cold uber sinister. It's terrible how so many good things in the sequel trilogy are there in spite of tptb, not because of them!

I haven't and honestly at this point I don't even want to hear anything else about what a complete fucking shitshow of stupidity and sociopathy this whole production was.

The idea that TFA isn't setting up a redemption is so absurd to me that I'm not even going to entertain it. I don't believe that even JJ is that incompetent, and his commentary plus TROS indicates that he did absolutely understand that Ben must be reclaimed despite his total disregard for the themes and message of SW. So whatever Adam was talking about, I don't know, and I'm not going to listen to this interview to try to figure it out because I'm tired. Maybe he's referring to the earliest ideas where Kylo Ren wasn't the same person as Han and Leia's child?

But in that case I just cannot imagine why they wanted to cast him in that role.

Leaving aside that the entire concept of a 'reverse Vader' is the stupidest shit I've ever heard, because that was a) literally the prequel trilogy, b) antithetical to SW as anything other than a prelude to a subsequent redemption, and c) SO FUCKING BORING. I know this isn't the first time Adam has mentioned this, but it only sounds more stupid the more clear he makes it that they mean 'the opposite of the ending of RotJ'. Which is just 'the ending of every fucking American action movie fucking ever'. Like putting a 'spin' on Vader by having him NOT REDEEM HIMSELF is just called 'being like everyone else' and 'taking away literally the most compelling thing about Vader'.

I need these boring, unimaginative HACKS to fuck off. Like, the idea that JJ's pitch for TFA was 'worse, more boring, less visually creative, less meaingful, more shallow remake of ANH but also we will ruin the heart and soul of the story and make it like all the libertarian slop it literally existed in order to stand against'.

LIKE JAIL FOR THIS MAN. JAIL!

I saw someone say that it's also come out that the reylo connection was Kasdan's idea, which I feel vindicated by bc I've been saying I bet it was forever. But again, JJ was on board for it and knew what he was doing with the imagery in TFA. He is not so incompetent that he didn't understand he was creating romantic subtext. And text.

But like, I'm just so done with these fucking people. That ANYONE at that company much less apparently EVERYONE?? thought it was remotely acceptable to use SW to tell the story of any character whatsoever who was humanised and sympathetic and relatable to children falling into darkness and becoming ''''''irredeemable'''''' MUCH LESS the LAST SKYWALKER, the HOPE AND HAPPY ENDING OF ROTJ, HAN AND LEIA'S LOVE, PADMÉ'S LOVE, the atonement and reconciliation of Darth Vader is just FUCKING BANANAPANTS to me.

George Lucas should fight these people in an alley.

[frumfrumfroo]

I understand what you're saying about Ben's death. And I agree that it creates problems for the story. But I can't help also feeling that his death in some fashion was necessary. As long as there are Skywalkers, a Skywalker will be the Main Character. As long as a Skywalker is the main character, the main character of Star Wars will be white. Keeping that dynasty in the picture guarantees Star Wars will never have a protag that looks like me. I've been waiting for a black Jedi movie since 2014.

I'm sorry, that's ridiculous. The saga was a finite story, it always was. There is absolutely no need to completely destroy the foundational theme of the narrative, the entire reason the story existed, in order to end it. You have a happy ending, you cut to credits. You move on to a different place and time and tell other stories if you want to keep going with the world. They've even done this before- how old is Knights of the Old Republic?

And you're ignoring that they ruined the story and killed Ben and then, in a heroically self-defeating act of idiocy, tried to graft the marketable name onto Rey. An unrelated white person. They didn't kill him to end the legacy or to move on, they just have zero understanding of what the legacy actually is.

People making the terrible choices of this company into some kind of immutable Act of God, like they couldn't just... avoid them... I'm tired of it. Dragging the Skywalkers' story out unnaturally and inserting them into everything is a bad idea. Killing Ben is a bad idea. You seem to be suggesting they somehow cancel each other out, but actually DLF just did both and absolutely nothing is stopping them from continuing in that vein. Killing Ben accomplished nothing except definitively establishing that they have no idea what the point of SW was.

No one at LF seems to get that it was a character-driven fable and those are contained stories. If they want the audience to follow them and invest in new stories, they needed to understand that it's not the name or the trappings which made people care and trotting out CGI cameos is not going to be a sustainable way of holding interest.

[windy-trickster]

Amdala! What's the scariest thing you've made someone see? And the most whimsical?

"I caan maake tro||s see their worst feaars if I pleaase. Show them visions of their deaaths aand whaatnot. Someone once c|aaimed to be feaarless. No one is truly feaar|ess, my deaar aanon." "AAnd I proved him wrong. He haad the biggest feaar of spiders thaat he right pissed himse|f out of feaar."

"Now for the most whimsicaa|? I've helped some reaally saad tro||s traansport themse|ves into aa world of their dreaams. Showing them whaat |ife would be |ike if they haad the aabi|ity to tru|y chaange it. Someone's faantaasy wor|d waas fi||ed with cute |itt|e critters aand their red crush coming to them to confess their undying love for them. They were so haappy they staarted crying aand thaanking me."

[a-heart-of-kyber]

Supervisor rewatched TLJ and came up to me like “On second thought, you were right about everything.” 

[perrydowning]

OMG. I'm gonna use A-TRoS-ity as a tag now.

I actually smacked my forehead when I realized I could have been using it all this time. Clearly, TRoS pushed me off my game!

[thejedicounselor]

Mons(TROS)ity

-Myself.

[the-heartlines]

to me, it’s clear that rian johnson wrote the last jedi for female fans, the female gaze, and people who see themselves in rey 'i felt so alone’ nobody & kylo ‘you’re not alone’ ren. AND ROSE ‘SAVE WHAT WE LOVE’ TICO !!!!

and fucking terrio and abrams wrote this cesspool trash fire atrosity for catering to racist, sexist, stupid ass dude bros, and sending ‘there’s NO HOPE FOR YOU, if you’re mentally ill & are constantly bombarded by demons’ & ‘YOU’LL ALWAYS END UP ALONE, THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDINGS’...

and that is truly FUCKED UP.

i’ll never forgive them

[raven-m-3]

Hi! The anon who asked about Reylo here! I'm really sorry to have brought back painful feelings! Do not worry about not wanting to answer, I totally get it! Hope one day you'll feel better about the ST (I tend to pretend that the a(tros)city isn't the end and/or that it doesn't exist) and be able to enjoy Rey and Ben again! ❤

Hi nonny: this was really sweet of you. You’re fine. I apologize for dropping a bomb on you 😂 I have sort of been in denial and refusing to deal with my feelings about SW, so it just exploded.

A(tros)ity made me laugh. 🤣 And yes, I truly do think I’ll be back. Even though I’m 99% Dramione these days, I’ll never forget my roots. I’m proud to be a Reylo and I love our beautifully diverse, wildly talented, relentlessly optimistic, and unapologetically loud fandom.

[tyrantdotexe]

For Noxium! ♋ ✆☼ ღ >perniciousAnon

♋ What do you think of the caste system?

≡ We∫∫, I’m sure it’s obvious that given my caste, that they dri∫∫ into my head since I was young that the caste system has necessary va∫ue on the grounds of arbitrament. It’s easy to assume that the usefu∫ness and ∫ongetibity of a tro∫∫’s ∫ife has some sort of quantitative and phi∫osophica∫ va∫ue to it, no? In spite of my co∫∫eagues, I don’t care much to assert my e∫i∫tism over others. Lowb∫oods tend to be usefu∫ to us highb∫oods, especia∫∫y those with innate abi∫ities that is se∫dom found within upper castes. 

≡ Is it usefu∫ as a means of categorization? Yes. Shou∫d it be use as grounds to abuse power? To me, no. If you’re just a mind∫ess brute, you’re ∫ess than the soi∫ beneath by feet.

✆ - Last troll you talked to?

≡ Cinder

☼ - Have you ever been out during the day?

≡ I have. Wasn’t p∫easant.

ღ - What’s your lusus like?

≡ He is a freshwater fish. Rather innocuous. I have to give him specia∫ treatments and infusions into his poo∫ every so often to guarantee his ∫ongetivity.

[aurora-daily]

For Nor­we­gian singer-song­writer Aurora, mu­sic was the key to un­lock a long-held sense of dis­con­nec­tion

Interview by An­drew McMillen for The Weekend Australian (June 1st, 2019).

Mu­sic writer An­drew McMillen meets Ice­landic sen­sa­tion Aurora ahead of her al­bum re­lease

As a child, Aurora Ak­snes grew up in a town not far from Ber­gen, in south­west­ern Norway, sur­rounded by a for­est, ocean, space and plenty of si­lence — fer­tile grounds in which to plant seeds of imag­i­na­tion.

Her two older sis­ters, Mi­randa and Vik­to­ria, were wor­ried that her strange­ness — es­pe­cially her out-there dress sense — would make her a tar­get for bul­lies. “We were so scared that it was go­ing to be tough for you to go to high school,” her sis­ters say in a video pub­lished in 2016. “But ev­ery­body loved you.”

Singing, song­writ­ing and play­ing piano be­came her three fas­ci­na­tions; all ac­tiv­i­ties she could in­dulge on her lone­some. This be­gan in child­hood and con­tin­ued into her ado­les­cence, when she was plucked from ob­scu­rity and es­sen­tially asked whether she wanted to pur­sue a ca­reer in mu­sic. She said yes, and she hasn’t looked back. In that same video from 2016, filmed in Ber­gen with her friends and family, and re­leased to co­in­cide with her de­but al­bum, Aurora says, “Mu­sic is not some­thing that you should keep for your­self. It can’t be put in a cage be­cause it’s wild and alive.”

On stage in Bris­bane on a Mon­day night early last month, the blue-eyed and blonde artist is mid­way through a pow­er­ful 90-minute set. Dressed in red and flanked by a live band that pro­duces pul­sat­ing elec­tronic pop, the 22-year-old pauses be­tween songs to ad­dress the 800-strong ca­pac­ity crowd at the Trif­fid.

“I feel like I’m in this room with friends,” she says. “It’s a nice feel­ing be­cause I feel so of­ten dis­con­nected to humans. I feel very lucky be­cause I don’t know how the hell I got here. I don’t know how I be­came an artist — but I do know that it’s 90 per cent be­cause of you guys.

“With­out you, it’s an empty room; with­out you, there’s no one that gives my words power.”

Then, with a nod to her drum­mer and co-producer Mag­nus Skyl­stad, the band kicks into the next track as the lights change colour and the crowd thrills to her mu­sic.

She does not so much per­form as in­habit these songs, as if singing them for the first time. There’s not a trace of self-con­scious­ness; in­stead, the young woman danc­ing centre stage, mi­cro­phone in hand, ex­udes a con­ta­gious free­dom and vi­tal­ity. Here, among friends, she is adored. Two days later, in the hours be­fore another Groovin the Moo fes­ti­val sideshow in Fre­man­tle, Aurora perks up when re­minded of her phi­los­o­phy that mu­sic can­not be caged.

“Oh, yes, it’s very true, and that’s why I know I have to share it,” she tells Re­view. “When I per­form, that’s why I’m so ex­cited; it’s like the mu­sic is too big for my tiny shape of a body. I feel very ex­plo­sive when I per­form. That’s the whole point in why I started shar­ing the mu­sic: if you have the gift of making mu­sic, it’s like we’re on a mis­sion, we peo­ple who can trans­late the mu­sic into some­thing that the rest of the world can un­der­stand.”

In a rel­a­tively short time, the rest of the world has come to un­der­stand and ap­pre­ci­ate Aurora’s art. While the story of her as­cent from small-town anonymity to filling clubs and play­ing fes­ti­vals on the other side of the planet is some­what typ­i­cal of the stream­ing era, the re­sults are cer­tainly not.

It goes like this: af­ter up­load­ing a song on­line in 2012, when she was 16, what was in­tended as a Christ­mas gift for her par­ents found its way to the ears of an agent, which set in mo­tion an un­ex­pected but wel­come record­ing ca­reer. Since 2015, she has re­leased an EP, a de­but al­bum — 2016’s All My Demons Greet­ing Me as a Friend — and a fol­low-up LP that has been split into two halves, re­leased last year and this year.

As well, a cou­ple of well-cho­sen cover songs have helped to high­light her ex­traor­di­nary, sin­gu­lar vocal abil­i­ties and opened up new au­di­ences.

First in 2015, her stark take on Half the World Away by Oa­sis fea­tured in a prom­i­nent Bri­tish Christ­mas ad­ver­tise­ment; it re­mains one of her most-played songs on stream­ing ser­vices. Then on an Aus­tralia visit in 2017, she recorded a spell­bind­ing cover of Mas­sive At­tack’s Teardrop for Triple J’s Like a Ver­sion segment. It has since at­tracted nearly seven mil­lion YouTube views.

In turn, the global response to her mu­sic dur­ing the past four years has led to a pleasant awakening: her work mat­ters.

“I want to do this as long as I feel like peo­ple need me to do this,” she says. “Right now, I feel very needed. It’s a job that the world needs be­cause be­ing a hu­man is so hard and mu­sic some­times makes it eas­ier. As long as I feel needed, I’ll do it. I’ll be an artist for­ever; I’m a very hungry woman, and I like to dance and paint, and I want to ex­plore and even­tu­ally share that with the world, too.”

In con­ver­sa­tion, Aurora comes across as re­mark­ably grounded and in­se­cu­rity-free. A month out from the re­lease of A Dif­fer­ent Kind of Hu­man (Step 2) — usu­ally a time of peak anx­i­ety and un­cer­tainty among record­ing artists, who will soon learn whether their lat­est work is judged to be their great­est or oth­er­wise — she shrugs and says that she doesn’t re­ally have any par­tic­u­lar hopes or ex­pec­ta­tions for it. “Whatever will hap­pen will hap­pen,” she says. “I’m al­ready work­ing on my next al­bum; I feel quite far away from this al­bum. I hope at least one per­son will re­ally love it. It is quite di­verse, with many dif­fer­ent moods and per­son­al­i­ties. I am quite ex­cited to per­form the songs live, but it doesn’t re­ally mat­ter how peo­ple per­ceive it.

“Some peo­ple will al­ways un­der­stand it and ap­pre­ci­ate it, and that’s enough.” Be­tween songs at the Trif­fid, Aurora talks a lot, and she’s of­ten funny and en­dear­ing.

‘ In the be­gin­ning I didn’t re­ally talk be­cause I didn’t have any­thing to say. But then I learned that if you do talk to the au­di­ence, peo­ple tend to feel more safe and more connected to you’ Aurora Ak­snes

“We’ve been doing all these shows in Aus­tralia, and it’s so strange we can have our own show in Bris­bane and there are peo­ple here wait­ing for us,” she says at the be­gin­ning. “From the bottom of my huge heart and small tits — ac­tu­ally, no, they are quite big — thank you so, so much for com­ing tonight.”

Later, she ad­mits to feel­ing some snotty con­ges­tion: “It’s kind of loos­en­ing up now as I’m danc­ing and making its jour­ney down my throat. It tastes like salt and I don’t know how I feel about that.” But while in­tro­duc­ing Through the Eyes of a Child, she turns se­ri­ous for a few mo­ments.

“Some­times it’s hard to find peo­ple to talk to about your pain be­cause it makes us feel like a bur­den, or we are taught to feel like a bur­den when we are not happy,” she says. “I know you’re all here for a rea­son. Maybe you’re a bit like me: you’re emo­tional or you look a bit dif­fer­ent on the in­side or the out­side. This next song is for you if you’re go­ing though a hard time.”

This con­nec­tion with her au­di­ence is real and rare, but it wasn’t al­ways this way.

“In the be­gin­ning I didn’t re­ally talk be­cause I didn’t have any­thing to say,” she tells Re­view. “But then I learned that if you do talk to the au­di­ence, peo­ple tend to feel more safe and more connected to you. You show them a spe­cial thing they don’t usu­ally see un­less they go to my show. It’s like they’re my friend or I’m their friend. I do have mouth di­ar­rhoea be­cause I tend to talk way too much, but it just hap­pens. I do what I want and, at the mo­ment, I feel like talk­ing a lot.”

Aurora’s cover of the Mas­sive At­tack hit Teardrop, per­formed for Triple J’s Like a Ver­sion segment, has at­tracted nearly seven mil­lion YouTube views

There’s another as­pect of her artistry that has changed in re­cent years, too. “I used to feel ner­vous be­fore shows, but then it stopped be­cause I re­alised it’s ob­vi­ous I know what I’m doing,” she says. “I know why I’m here; I know how to do this. Now, I find it more scary to be among peo­ple or to have a one-to-one con­ver­sa­tion with some­one. I know what to do on the stage and it feels like it’s im­por­tant.”

With shows booked up to De­cem­ber, in­clud­ing an ex­ten­sive 20date tour of Norway, her re­cent Aus­tralian trip will soon be in the rear-view mir­ror. While travelling here, how­ever, she was par­tic­u­larly in­spired by our na­tive trees, which she found to be vastly dif­fer­ent com­pared with those in her home­land, so per­haps the sights and sounds of our coun­try may feed back into her fu­ture art.

Yet watching her on stage, be­fore an au­di­ence completely in tune with her voice and body, the phi­los­o­phy she out­lined in that video a few years ago comes to mind. Aurora can’t be put in a cage, be­cause she is wild and alive. Luck­ily for us, her mu­sic is not some­thing she has kept for her­self.

A Dif­fer­ent Kind of Hu­man (Step 2) is re­leased on Fri­day via Glass­note Records.

[roninlegislacerator]

You know, Eventually you'll end up quadless.

If you’re ta/king about the impermanent nature of a// things and the inevitabi/ity of our own demise, then yes. I understand this. That just means it’s important to cherish what we have before it’s gone, and try to press onward when it is /ost to us.

If you’re referring to my Exi/e, however, then guess what anon? Grype and Tro//ian are both things. The /aw says I can’t set foot on A/ternia after I comp/ete the Ordea/s, not that I can’t contact it. So suck a fat bu/ge.

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Do you think Reylo/Ben Solo will have more pop cultural acceptance in the future? I thought it would be a given if the sequels had ended coherently but after TROS I'm not sure

Reylo and Ben are the only things about the sequels that have a positive legacy that people actually care about. Goofy chronically online thinkpieces are not a sign the general public don't accept them.

I've discussed this a bunch of times, but I think the main thing is that TLJ will never be properly vindicated the way ESB was because having no ending doesn't allow its tensions to ever resolve. However, people 'got' Ben in massive droves just from the silent .5 milliseconds of healed screentime he got. The kiss was the only thing they cheered at the premiere. The general audience was 100% ready to accept the inevitable conclusion of the story being told, even delivered in the most shoddy sloppy mess in blockbuster history.

People still shit on it because it gets them attention. It's the only thing still relevant.

[frumfrumfroo]

TROS and its aftermath proved that Rian (and Carrie, since she also worked on the TLJ script) were the only ones working on the Sequel films who cared about Rey as a character and wanted her to both have a good character arc and stand on her own apart from being a fan insert for the legacy characters.

They're the only ones who even thought about her as a character. No one else asked any of the questions that should have been the absolute day one, blank page, first meeting questions to have about your alleged protagonist. I know I've ranted about it at length many times, but it still beggars belief. Not only did they not have answers, they didn't even ask the questions.

JJ has a history of not seeming to understand the concept of a character arc or the narrative needing to earn things, so maybe it's ultimately unsurprising this wasn't something DLF considered important, but I remain staggered by this level of basic incompetence.

[queerwelsh]

“Atgof” gan E. Prosser Rhys

Enillodd E. Prosser Rhys y Goron yn Eisteddfod Cenedlaethol 1924, efo “Atgof,” i feirniadaeth oherwydd y themâu rhywiol (o natur heterorywiol ac hoyw).

ATGOF.

YSTORI LLANC SYNHWYRUS.

“The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy; but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted. . .” John Keats. Yn ei ail rhagymadrodd i’w “Endymion.”

 Mi rusiais rhagddo drwy flynyddoedd blin Ieuenctid nwydus, er ei daerni ef; Gomeddwn wrando ar ei eiriau rhin Er gweled uffern ym mhen draw pob nef. Ymyrrwr, meddwn, oedd, a fynnai im’ Geisio yn llwfr ryw ddiogelwch gwael, A minnau eisiau ildio i chwim a chwim, A bwyta gwaharddedig ffrwyth yn hael. Ond fe’m dilynai er fy rhusio i gyd, Heb ddim a darfai ei ddewinol ddawn; Adwaenai dro fy meddwl claf o hyd,– Dilynai a dilynai’n agos iawn, Fel petai gennad gor-ofalus Dduw I’m gwarchod rhag y gwybod sydd o Fyw.         *                *                * Mwg mawn! Aroglau hwnna, dyn a wŷr, Drwy’r ffroen a gerdda i’m synhwyrau’n glau, Oni’m meddiennir i gan Atgo’n llwyr, A’m dwyn i’r cartref gwyn rhwng perthi cau. Cofiaf yr ystafelloedd bach, a gwawr Y celfi hen, a’r cynefin-dra rhydd; A mam a thad er llawer tywyll awr Yn sugno o Gariad gysur at y dydd. A chofiaf stormydd hwyr yn chwipio’r drws A minnau’n ‘swatio’n felys wrth y tân, Hyd oni’m denai cwsg â’i gellwair tlws I fynwes mam, a’m suo gan ei chân. A bwrw fy mlino o egnio cyd Heb ofn y nos rhwng dau ddedwydda’r byd. Rhwng dau ddedwydda’r byd! . . Mi gefais fyw Yn hwy na diogelwch Maboed iach, A gweld Dedwyddwch, yn nyryswch Rhyw Yn nychu a darfod, yn y cartref bach. Cans yma, a mi’n prifio, gwyliais un Yn wylo a chynddeiriogi yn ei thro Tan fin y gwir fod tad ei phlant ei hun Yn peri son amdano hyd y fro. A chalon mam,–er ei chystuddio’n ddwys Wrth dorri troeog gwys o’r llan i’r bedd– Ni wybydd gystudd o gyn drymed pwys A cholli nerth ei Rhyw, a’i harddwch gwedd, A’r gwr a’i treuliodd eto a’i waed yn dwym,’ A dim ond Arfer oer i’w cadw yn rhwym. Arfer i’w cadw yn rhwym! Pond enbyd fai Meddwn, oedd ei mwsogli hi, erioed, A Rhyw mor wamal yn ei lanw a’i drai, A’r gwendid rhagddo i bob un a roed? Pond ofer tyngu’r llw yng ngwyddfod Duw A ni heb wybod hyd a lled ein chwant, A chicio’r tresi’n ffôl tra fyddwn fyw, A’u cicio, wedi’n myned, gan ein plant? A chredais, gartre, ym mwg y mawn, a’r boen, Nag ydoedd Cariad namyn Rhyw i gyd,– Mai pranciau anghyfrifol cnawdol hoen Oedd Cariad–i’w fwynhau tra dalio’i hud, Na fynnai brisio dull Gwareiddiad salw– A chrwydro draw ac yma yn ôl ei alw. Yn ôl ei alw! Pa bryd y meliaist ti Gariad, mewn unpeth ond dy hwyl dy hun? A pham yr ofer-geisir, holwn i, Dy blethu’n ddof i Economeg Dyn? Mynnaist ti d’oglais â chwrteisi hen, Rhwysg twrnamaint a gwiw sifalri gweilch. Tynnaist o feirdd a doethion arial Llên. Drysaist gynlluniau ymerodron beilch. Ac er yn gryfach na’r mynyddoedd mawr Oriocach ydwyt na’r awelig wan; A deimlo sicrwydd dy gofleidiau ‘nawr, Ni ŵyr lle bo dy ffansi yn y man . . . Ond ni’th lurguniaf i rhag Arfer wyw Cans tramwy wrth dy fympwy di yw Byw. Byw! Gwawdiwn innau gri’r parchusion mwy Fod Cariad dau yn rhywbeth trech na’u Rhyw? Beth am fy ngartre’ nad oedd gartre’n hwy? . . . A fei-id y Diawl am reddf a greodd Duw? Derbyniaf Gariad, meddwn, fel y mae; Mae f’ ifanc gorff yn blysio am ei rin; Mynnaf y merched gwympaf imi’n brae A feddwo fy synhwyrau oll fel gwin. A throed fermiliwn ymachludoedd hir Gilfach y graig yn rhyw bantheon nwyd; Datganed adar bob gorfoledd clir; Dawnsied awelon dros y rhostir llwyd, A chwardded lleuad wen a mintai’r sêr Ar ddeuddyn Cariad yn eu poenau pêr.          *                *                * Dyna f’ adduned. A phan wnaethpwyd hi Dibaid y doi ymadrodd ar fy ol: Cyn byw i ddim ond Rhyw, ymbwylla, di, A phechu i’th erbyn di dy hun mor ffol. Onid priodi a chartrefu dau Achlesodd wreiddiau Meddwl y ddi lyth? A pheri dywed trwy ogleisiau brau Natur yn llefain am gael byw am byth? Nid anffawd Pleser roddi i fam y boen O eni’i phlentyn, a’i hymwadu drud– Cans dyma offrwm Bywyd yn ei hoen Ar allor Cariad er mwyn cadw’r byd. Gochel! Mae’r allor yn rhy gysegredig I’w d’wyno gan dy reddf annisgybledig. Aroglau’r pridd! Mae clywed hwnnw o hyd Ar glaear ddyddiau’r Gwanwyn, rhag y troi, Yn cadw’n ddifarw fyth yr Atgof drud Am f’ awydd am fercheta, a’m hynfyd ffoi. O afael pob myfyrdod a pherswâd I brofi Cariad yn ei angerdd noeth; Digon i mi oedd cyfeiliorni ‘nhad I’m clust-fyddaru i’r llefaru doeth . . Aroglau’r pridd! Aroglau’r ddaear hen Fu gynt yn esmwythâu f’ ymennydd i,– Pigyn a beri mwyach, ac nid gwên. Gwae imi lygru d’ addfwyn burdeb di. Cyn gwybod bod a brofir, o bob rhyw. Yn rhan ddi syflyd o Gelfyddyd Byw. Celfyddyd Byw! Nid oedd fy mryd ar ddim Ond meddwl ar y gwin sy’n enaid merch . . . Gwelaf yn awr y nos a bennais im’ Gwrddyd a Mair ar berwyl anllad serch. Uchel oedd llef yr arddwyr yn y maes, A’r cwysi coch yn gollwng tawel sawr. ‘Roedd Byw yn ganu yn y masarn llaes; A Byw yn brancio ar y mynydd mawr. Llawen i’m golwg oedd a welwn oll; Llawen i’m clust a’m ffroen a glywn, bob cam; A llawen oeddwn i–a bron ar goll– A Byw i minnau–’nawr–o fewn fy llam, A’i holl aeddfedrwydd gogoneddus hi Yn rhyw amharod-ddisgwyl wrthyf I. Yn disgwyl wrthyf! Ar lan y llyn Yr eisteddasom fel y cochai’r hwyr. Nesheais ati hi, a’i gwasgu’n dynn, A’i hanner-annog i ddibristod llwyr. Llenwais ei llygaid du â mwynder maith; Cusenais â gwefusau gwancus, llawn; Teimlais ei ffurf hudolus lawer gwaith; Gyrrais ei gwaed ar gerdded cyflym iawn. O funud dwymn i funud, fe ddaeth tro Penllanw gorchfygol Rhyw, ac ildio’n dau . . . A wybu dyn felystra fel efô Yn treio–a throi’n atgof hyll–mor glau? . . . Cerddasom adref, heb ddim son am garu A minnau ar y Pleser wedi alaru. Wedi alaru! . . Pe na baem ninnau weithion Ond nawmlwydd, Mair, yn lle’n deunawmlwydd blin Ni byddai gwyllt bwerau Rhyw yn gweithio’n Anesmwyth ynnom hyd nes cael ei rin. Lluniem “dy bach” rhwng bonau’r grug, heb frys; Neu lamu’n droednoeth drwy ddwr bas y llyn; Neu gynneu eithin; neu loddesta ar lus; Neu gasglu blodau coch a glas a gwyn. Gwae, gwae na feddem heno ar ein hynt Ffraeth ddiniweidrwydd dyddiau’r nawmlwydd iach, A glendid o anwybod megis cynt, A dim yn gwasgu ar y galon fach,– A holl ddadrithio poenus deunaw oed Heb ddyfod i’n hwymwybod ni erioed. Heb ddyfod inni ‘rioed! Mi dybiais, do, Mai ‘mroi i reddf y Cnawd oedd diben Byw Ond fe’m syrffedodd hynny, ar un tro, A merch ni fynnwn mwy, na son am Ryw. Gwall ydoedd Rhyw yng nghreu y bud,–tabŵ, A halog ydoedd merch a’i meddal fodd. Melltithiais innau fy anniwair lw, A chanu’n iach a’r cwbl i gyd, o’m bodd. Siomedig ydoedd Rhyw, er gweu o ddyn Ramant amdano’n gain. Mynswn yn awr Mai Cyfeillgarwch oedd a roddai i un Y Bywyd helaeth glan. Gwasgwn i lawr Flys Rhyw, a’i ymlid. Ni chai ‘nhwyllo’n hwy Cysegrwn f’ oes i Gyfeillgawrch mwy.         *                *                * Dyna f’adduned. A phan wnaethpwyd hi Dibaid y doi ymadrodd ar fy ol; Ymswyna rhag doctora Rhyw, dydi, A phechu i’th erbyn di dy hyn mor ffol. Mae Cyfeillgarwch gwyr yn nhroeon Ffawd Fel llinyn aur drwy holl groniclau’r byd; Ni warafunaf iti ar dy rawd Gael profi o ddigrifwch hun i gyd; Ond gwylia bwyso gormod arno fo Oherwydd dy syrffedu, dro, ar ferch, A thybio yrru felly Rhyw ar ffo:– Geill deu-gnawd un-rhyw ei ail-alw yn erch, A gwneuthur Cyfeillgarwch wedi hyn Yn waeth na Chariad anllad glan y llyn.         *                *                * Aroglau gwair ar lawr! Dim ond ei glywed Ar awel lariaidd diwedd dydd o haf A ddwg yn ol yr Atgof hwnnw a ddywed Am adeg Cyfeillgarwch. Cofio wnaf Y fel y treiglais ar fy nyfal gais Am gyfaill a rôi imi’r sylwedd gwir, Heb gymryd arnaf glywed gair y Llais, Na digalonni er fy siomi’n hir; A’r fel y deuthum hyd at degwch glan Menai hudolus un ariannaid hwyr, Ai gwrdd efô luniais yn y man Yn bartner enaid a bodlonrwydd llwyr, A sawl y ‘stodiau wrth Lan Faglan syn Yn fendith dawel ar ein cwlwm tynn. Ein cwlwm tynn! Di, lanc gwalltfelyn, rhadlon, Gwyddost y cyfan a fu rhyngom ni,– Yr holl ymddiried gonest, a’r afradlon Arfaethau glân a wnaethpwyd ger y lli. Haerasom fod y byd yn ddrwg i’w fôn; Mynasem gael y byd o’i fôn yn dda; A’i roi mewn moddau byw fel na bai sôn Am wanc neu syrffed fyth ar ddyn yn bla. Tyngasom ddiystyrru’n greddfau gwael: Nid oedd y Corff ond teml y Meddwl drud; Er blysio o Ieuenctid garu’n hael Nid ildiem ni i ddim rhyw gnawdol hud, Cans oni chlywem annog pêr o bell Ar inni gyrchu at y Bywyd Gwell? Y Bywyd Gwell! . . Cofiaf y noson dawel Y cerddem adref hyd ffordd Fethel draw, A’r wlad heb ddwndwr dyn na llafar awel A’r gwair yn arogleuo ar bob llaw.– Ni fynnai’n Meddwl fenthig hanner gair A ninnau o ryw Wybod mawr mor llawn, Pan dorrodd esmwyth ganu i’r Forwyn Fair O gwfaint rhwng y coed yn beraidd iawn. Safasom. A charthasom yno bwys Ein beiau parod, dybiem ni, yn llwyr, Rhag miwsig hen y geiriau Lladin glwys A gant dirweirllu’r oesodd gyda’r hwyr I ymlid cof am hudoliaethau’r byd O gêl gilfachau eu Meddyliau i gyd. Cilfachau eu Meddyliau! Fe gredasom Ninnau, ill dau, fod ein Meddyliau’n lân Y noson ryfedd honno, a hunasom A’n clustiau yn ail-ganu’r santaidd gân Hunasom . . Rywdro hanner-deffro’n dau; A’n cael ein hunain yn cofleidio’n dynn; A Rhyw yn ein gorthrymu; a’i fwynhau; A phallu’n sydyn fel ar lan y llyn … Llwyr ddeffro . . ac ystyried beth a wnaed … Fe aeth f’ ymennydd fel pwll tro gan boen; Roedd Cyfeillgarwch eto’n sarn tan draed, A ninnau gynnau’n siwr santeiddio’n hoen! Mi lefais: Gad fi’n llonydd bellach, Ryw Yn wyf yn glaf, yn glaf, o eisiau Byw! Byw! Mi chwenychais brofi’i hyfryd flas, Ond rhyngof i a Byw mae gallu Cnawd Yn fy ngormesu iddo’n ufudd was, A rhwystro a ddeisyfo ‘Meddwl tlawd. Beth wyt ti Gnawd? Tydi, a dawdd y Gwres A lasa’r Oerfel; ac a waeda’r Dur; A gwsg; a sieryd; ac a ddibynna ar bres; Sy’n gweld; sy’n clywed; ac yn cynnwys Cur? Beth wyt ti, Gnawd? Tydi ar siawns a wnaed Rhag trachwant Rhyw dau na’th fynasent ddim, A’r trachwant hwnnw’n ysfa yn dy waed Dithau bob dydd a nos? O dywed im’! A pham y rhoed mewn llestr mor salw ei lun Rywbeth o ddeunydd gwell na’r llestr ei hun? Ffordd arall wedyn a ddyfelais i, Ac wedyn daeth ymadrodd ar fy ol: Cyn llwyr-ymwadu a Rhyw, ymbwylla, di, A phechu i’th erbyn di dy hun mor ffol, Gomeddwm iti ei ddefnyddio’n gam, A llygru sianel santaidd Natur fawr; Ac erchais iti ymswyn rhag rhoi nam Ar Gyfeillgarwch yn dy nwydus awr. Ond ni wrandeuaist. Prechaist, a syrffedu Ar Gariad merch a Chyfeillgarwch dyn. A mwy, yr wyd yn feddal iawn yn credu Mai haint yw cyffwrdd Cnawd, a charu llun Mwynder o’th gyrraedd . . Gwagedd, gwagedd yw! . . Priodi Cnawd a Meddwl–dyna yw Byw.         *                *                * Aroglau’r gwymon! . . Gwelaf haul yr haf Yn rhoi esmwythyd mwyn i donnau’r lli, A’r bobloedd fodlon ar y draethell braf Yn ymddigrifo yn y chwaon ffri. Aroglau’r gwymon! . . Clywaf firi’r byd Yng ngherdded brwd yr offerynnau cerdd, A rhyw rianedd yn eu gwyn i gyd Yn chwerthin gyda’r hwyr ar lannerch werdd. Aroglau’r gwymon! . . Cerddwn ynddo’n syn A’m gwybod wedi annibennu f’ oes, A sylwi ar un o ri’r rhianedd gwyn Yn sylwi arnaf i . . Ciliodd y loes A wasgai arnaf rhag ei gwen fach, araf … Tyngais yn fyr fy mhwyll: Myfi a’i caraf! Myfi a’i caraf, meddwn; er bod Rhyw A Chariad wedi’u drysu’n ddi wahân, Rhaid bod gorawen Cariad pur o Dduw, A hoywai ddau, pe lleddid Rhyw yn lân. A medrwn hynny’n awr. My rwystrwn Gnawd I orfod eto at fy Meddwl I . . . Ni thorrem air; ni cherddem ar un rhawd; Ac ni chusanem, ni chofleidiem ni. Gwelwn y fun yn gyson ger y donn A digon oedd ei gweled i’m boddhau. Cyfleai’n llygaid Gariad dwfn y fron; Deallai’r naill ystori’r llall yn glau. A mynegasom yn ein caru mud Deimladau drechai holl dafodau’r byd. Tafodau’r byd! Sur y mynegent hwy Y gwynfyd rhyfedd barai’r fun i mi; Tystiwn fod diwedd ar f’ anffodion mwy A Buw hyfryted yn ei golwg hi. Ffenestri’i chalon oedd ei llygaid glas, A phurdeb plentyn ynddynt, er ei hoed, Gwyl oedd ei hagwedd, heb awgrymu cas Yn llercian yn ei gwisg na cham ei throed. ‘Roedd Bywyd, er fy siomi dro a thro Yn fwy na gwerth y cwbl a gostiodd im’, Ni fedrai’r byd, er ei gyfrwysed o Amgyffred ei gyfaredd ddwyfol ddim, Ac yntau o hyd yn rhygnu’r un hen dant Nad ydyw deuoedd ond peiriannau plant. Peiriannau plant! Gwae beri o’r gwymon gofio Yr hwyr y staeniwyd Cariad glan y môr. Dichon mai gweld y rheiny ddoi o nofio Gyffroes a ddirgel-gronnai ynnwy’n stôr … Ond gwn i mi freuddwydio ganol nos Gael pleser wrth halogi ‘nghariad fud … Yr oedd yr ieuanc Wawr yn cleisio’n dlos Pan giliodd Cwsg . . Cofiais y cwbl i gyd … Gwyr Duw im’ wylo dagrau chwerwon iawn Uwchben gresynus wedd fy mwriad glân … Mentrais i’r traeth a’r heulwen y prynhawn, Ond mi ddihengais mewn rhyw uffern dân O gyrraedd pawb o’r byd pan welais i Euogrwydd hefyd yn ei llygaid hi!         *                *                * Yng nghanol coed yr oeddwn, a thorr-calon Yn wŷniau drosof. Llefais: Ofer waith Yw ymarfogi rhag fy nygn dreialon; Fe gafodd Rhyw wall arnaf. Ffaith yw ffaith. Bellach, Tydi y rhusiais rhagot cyd, Siarad â mi; nyd wy’n dy ofni’n hwy. Gyfarwydd rhyfedd, Broffwyd siwr o hyd Beth a olygi? Mi’th wrandawaf mwy . . . Pwyso fy mhen ar gnwd o borfa wedd . . . . Y coed yn gysgod mwyn rhag haul y nef . . . Calon y byd yn curo, curo . . . Cerdd Rhyw dderyn bychan, sionc. . . Chwyth awel gref . . . Petrusgar osteg dwys . . Distawrwydd mawr . . . A’r Rhywun, yntau, yn llefaru’n awr:         *                *                * Fe blygaist dithau, er dy ystyfniced O’r diwedd, wedi ‘ngochel lawer gwaith, Gwyddwn o hyd na fedrai d’i anniddiced Ei lygaid-dynnu rhagof i drwy’r daith. Fe’m gelwaist yn Gyfarwydd rhyfedd, gynnau, A Phroffwyd siwr. Ynfyd o beth yw dyn! Nid ydoedd a’th ddilynodd hyd y grynnau Dorrit yn ofer ond Tydi dy Hun. Fel pe mynasai’r Bywyd sy’n y maes– Y dderwen gadarn neu’r glaswelltyn main, Lesteirio’r Rhin a dynn eu gwreiddiau llaes O’r pridd a’u magodd i’w grymuso’n gain, A methu ganddynt dorri’n ddail a blodau A nychu’n ddiymadferth drwy’u cyfnodau. Cans Rhin dy Fywyd dithau ydwyf i A dynn dy wreiddiau fyth o bridd dy dras, Gwesgaist fi ‘ngwaelod dy ymwybod, di, A phoeni mewn anallu heb fy ngras, Nid ydwyf i na da na drwg,–i gyd– Mae blas dy bridd, a’i wrtaith, arna’ i’n drwm, Efallai na bydd ddoeth fy ngair bob pryd, Ac y crafangaf wrth ragfarnau llwm, Ond rhaid i’th Gnawd a’th Feddwl di eu plygu I wneuthur a orchmynnwyf i drwy d’oes; A thrwof caiff dy Fywyd ei amlygu Fel, fel y mae, mewn chwerthin ac maen loes; A gwybod y bodlonrwydd sydd o Fyw Yn gwbl chywir yn ol Diben Duw. Fe blygaist, do, ond nid cyn pechu i’m herbyn; Ac ni bu bechod heb ei gosb erioed; Llechu ni cheffi’n unman rhag ei derbyn,– A’r llymaf cosb yw cosb yr ifanc oed. Nid ei di adref i arogalu’r mawn Na chofi eto ddechreu’r crwydro ffol; Ni chlywi sawr y pridd, wanwynol nawn, Na ddaw a wnaethost ti a Mair yn ol; Ni chlywi fyth aroglau gwair yr haf Heb gofio llygru’r Cyfeillgarwch cu; Na sawr y gwymon na ddaw methiant claf Y caru anghyffwrdd, eto i’th gof yn hy. Felly y teli bris dy feiau oll Nes pylo colyn Atgo, a mynd ar goll.

[a-heart-of-kyber]

DLF “We wish we had more time with Ben!”

Me

[babyawacs]

snake youmayhave tried heeeeeey look whative found as   your  only trick to chain the case or yourenotyou nu thobo inmy aeh realm thats justnotthe case turtle knewth ecase as kid elephant as teen none had a keeep itwas a freepopulation civillian as the family each messed with populations whatthey want theynever needed a heeeyloo kwahtifound but  itis a nice show of how each bunch h as their tricks landesverfassungsschutz cant recruit sothey tried hooker chain a n d  ? it excuses their rapers? a nd theyonly have to sayhomersimpsoy it and repeat the sexcr ime? w h e e e e e e e ee e e e y sgerma n sgermany thisis a case with own planet and ifthey didnt get that done itwouldbe a mistake  asit did become a tro phy basedontheir botch mess ofcourse the cockroach realm clowns try tomatch it with their trashcan ingredients  bu t belowthem intheir trashcanrealm else they couldnt keepit

snake youmayhave tried heeeeeey look whative found as   your  only trick to chain the case or yourenotyou nu thobo inmy aeh realm thats justnotthe case turtle knewth ecase as kid elephant as teen none had a keeep itwas a freepopulation civillian as the family each messed with populations whatthey want theynever needed a heeeyloo kwahtifound but  itis a nice show of how each bunch h as their tricks landesverfassungsschutz cant recruit sothey tried hooker chain a n d  ? it excuses their rapers? a nd theyonly have to sayhomersimpsoy it and repeat the sexcr ime? w h e e e e e e e ee e e e y sgerma n sgermany thisis a case with own planet and ifthey didnt get that done itwouldbe a mistake  asit did become a tro phy basedontheir botch mess ofcourse the cockroach realm clowns try tomatch it with their trashcan ingredients  bu t belowthem intheir trashcanrealm else they couldnt keepit

snake youmayhave tried heeeeeey look whative found as your only trick to chain the case or yourenotyou nuthobo inmy aeh realm thats justnotthe case turtle knewthecase as kid elephant as teen none had a keeep itwas a freepopulation civillian as the family each messed with populations whatthey want theynever needed a heeeylookwahtifound but itis a nice show of how each bunch has their…