#but if i can convince myself its partially true

[lonelyinkcap]

i cant tell

if ive always felt this far away

if this is what its like

to be normal

[neopuppy]

Who do you think it's the nastiest in nct? (in a sexual way ofc)

I feel like both jaemin and jaehyun give off some perturbing vibes, i love jeno, specially fanfic jeno ( I'm joking hahaha), but he screams very nice to me , just like Johnny, i mean they can be nasty but it's not in a perturbed way idk if you get me

I think I’ve said this before but I think nearly all of them would be such a disappointment irl lmao. thats why fanfics cool, bc its not likely we’ll ever fuck any of them to find out anyway, and even if we did….. most of them probably wouldn’t live up to the fantasy in our minds idk

(like for example: the way czennies like to convince themselves that Judy must be fucking someone…..meanwhile she on here reading my Jeno fics like the rest of you🤷🏻‍♀️ idk if I had the real thing….why would I be reading abt the fictional one!!! but thats my opinion😬)

if I had to say who’s ever implied they could get nasty nasty it’s probably Taeyong or Ten, but I don’t wanna think about TY fucking and Ten……nctzens have really ruined my ability to fangirl for him. they try to do this with my other biases, like as far as twitters concerned Jeno’s a flaming homosexual baby girl, and he could be who knows! but as a heterosexual cis gendered woman……I’m looking at men who have never discussed their sexual preferences with us as fans and sell us a fantasy and going with that. so. its hard though when it feels like a major part of the fandom are very abrasive with their opinions that are bible according to them……I guess Jeno personally told them all that he lets Jaemin top him idk idk🤨

I don’t think Johnny would be nasty persay BUT I think he’d be one of the least awkward/more passionate and accommodating? like he’d make you feel the most comfortable and dare I say…..talk you through it😮‍💨 I’m sure he could get nastyish tho, but I see him as very ~gentle giant~ in reality, he’s a little too good at that sweet easy going persona for me to not believe it’s not partially true. STILL…….MY FICTIONAL JOHNNY LAYS PIPE DOWNNNN, breeding kink, daddy kink, and medium dom bc he can go soft or hard with you😗 this has a lot to do with maturity as I do see him as one of the more level headed and mature members, but also I’m kind of extreme delusional abt Johnny so……

I think Jaemin would be an absolute dud in bed, sorry guys ,!:&&,/‘amzmmamxmx he gives boring, not freaky, and like…..traditional. he prob hits two positions at most. a shame bc my fictional Jaemin…….he’s wild.

dare I say………Jeno’s probably a lover, he’s so soft I can’tttttttt. BUT I know there’s a beast there, and his stamina’s definitely crazy, I do think he likes some emotional sex though, but…..whatever😅

idk who else could be freaky, I feel like the fandom leans to painting Taeyong/Yuta/Ten that way since they experiment more with their looks(understandable, as a goth thot stereotype myself). ultimately it’s more about what their partners comfortable with. not everyone’s into getting nasty……can’t relate, but hey we’ll always have fanfic🤝💚

[punsmaster69]

9/JAN/20XX

been a minute since i stayed in my room all day by myself.

once upon a time, that was a pretty common occurrence.

and maybe i still won't, but it's how i've spent today so far.

feels a bit different now that i'm actually lifted off the ground.

while stretching out as much as i could, i accidentally knocked something off the bed with my foot. lazily rolling over to see what it was, there was no real intention in me to get up and grab it.

a stuffed plush of a bear laid pathetically on its face.

i glanced back at the other stuffed animals on the end of my bed.

"...but these ones feel special for some reason."

"must be the fabric quality."

..that's what i'd thought the day she won them for me, right?

they're not particularly notable in quality, in honesty.

still, they do feel special.

sliding off the bed and landing on my feet next to the bear, i lifted it to meet my face.

the stuffed animal's beady eyes, obscured partially by fur, returned my stare.

"you're only special because of her, huh?"

i can tell myself i'm not a stuffed animal person.

i'm not the type.

i'm not a sentimental guy.

and it'd probably be true,

if it weren't for her.

the other plush creatures had been arranged by size at the foot of my bed, resting against the baseboard.

the doing of a neater skeleton than i.

and, the un-doing of a messier skeleton than he.

sitting myself in front of the wrecked arrangement, i tried to recreate how they had been previously.

two equally exaggeratedly fat animals start the line off at the largest size - differently colored chickens.

floor bear is the dead-center of the grouping. it's got longer brown fur and a small gold ribbon tied into bow around its neck. the bow and the animal's eyes are somewhat obscured by the fur length.

then, a creature i can't quite determine between raccoon and squirrel which it might be.

either or, whatever that one is has a little fall cardigan on.

smallest, final of the line, is a something that is decidedly not an animal.

stuffed shape is more fitting, it being a heart; that kind of semi-shiny, soft material.

"I never want to be ap-heart!"

reads the front.

the embroidered font is fancy and silvery.

texturally, the words are rough.

really, they're the exact quality one expects from festival booth prizes.

so to be displayed on the end of my bed like this...

it's more a sentiment to the memory surrounding them.

another day like that would be nice. can admit to myself now that i really would enjoy it.

friends can s

the festival setting in particular isn't quite the part i'm thinking about.

where around here could we

....

properly seated, the stuffies feel like an audience in a way i hadn't noticed before.

on the other hand, putting them anywhere but on my bed feels like disrespect.

for now, i'll turn them the other way.

——

turning them away feels wrong in a way i'm not sure i could specify if i tried, so i rotated the bear back to me.

it's a show of innocence.

of normal-ness.

friendshipness.

(the friendship-adjectives are getting out of hand.)

i held my hands up to further prove to the inanimate object that innocence.

i put them back down because hands don't have anything to do with this.

"you're a gift from a friend. no other way to see it."

not entirely sure at this point whether it was really the bear i was convincing - or entirely sure why i was bothering doing this to begin with - i moved on.

...

i already noted the amount of "friendship" adjectives i've been coming up with over time to excuse things.

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

sure.

unspecific enough.

"friendship" is a nice label you can put over things that you don't wanna give any 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 labels to.

labels feel like making a choice.

labels feel concrete.

labels feel like 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

and, uh.

you know something?

never have been the kind of guy to act first.

another thing calling it "friendship" is good for is...

can't call it "cowardice" when i won't vocalize (or similar) what's occupying my mind

if it's still called "friendship."

maybe the fact that i'm trying to justify it at all should bring light to somethin'...

but that kind of self awareness is reserved for therapy calls.

and i'm hanging up the phone for now.

[ben-marco]

do you think its possible for other system's to plant memories into someone else? with all this shit coming out about legion and us having experiences with manipulative and toxic RAMCOA survivors who were close with legion who said they remembered us (in very specific detail, so it wasnt just "oh you sound vaguely familiar", it was "oh. you are the same person i remember" type deal, which i realise in hindsight was probably not the safest way to realise this trauma but oh well you live and learn) and told us some information about abuse we (may) have faced, i'm fighting tooth and nail with my brain trying to convince myself im not totally delusional about this possibility being very real to us.

yes i realise we may have done some self destructive things trying to uncover memories and we practically begged the friends to give us information about this abuse we may have faced, and we may be looking too deep into things (such as reactions to various things, dreams, etc), but theres also a large majority of 'evidence' that they only helped unearth this trauma for us, and helped us in discovering something that may explain our childhood.

we're trying not to rely on online folk to help us fill in gaps about our trauma and our possible RAMCOA trauma, and we are currently seeing a trauma counsellor (although we have paused sessions right now due to financial issues) so hopefully we can get some professional help in regards to figuring things out, but i am paranoid that these people somewhat partially convinced our brain that we absolutely did 100% go through this abuse with them, and im paranoid that we're just straight up delusional about this trauma being real, especially since most flashbacks we did get whenever we were talking with them came due to them talking about specific topics with us - although despite not talking to them for months we still get flashbacks and various other system related things

we're trying to remind ourselves that we have nothing concrete as evidence that it did 100% happen outside of internal system things and flashbacks, which is why i'm constantly trying to say that its alleged and all that jazz and trying to shift our focus on doing trauma therapy / counselling and discovering things in private and not announcing it to the world

sorry for the rambling, and again, feel free to delete and / or not respond, i do not expect a therapy session out of this and i do not ask this with the intent of trying to get some stranger online to diagnose my experiences and / or feed into the belief that "yes it 100% is true you went through that trauma and theres no other way" because i believe getting that sort of response would be harmful in the long run

From personal experience, I can tell you that it is. Dissociative folks are highly suggestible, and your experience with Legion is frighteningly similar to an experience I had with someone else.

If you want to discuss this further, please feel free to send a DM my way. Anon, I really hate that you had to go through that and I'm hoping I might be able to help.

[sophieinwonderland]

what do you and ghost and other alters each like? as in hobbies and interests :o)

Can I tell you a secret? I'm actually the most boring tulpa ever. My primary interest is plural stuff. 🤫

Okay, maybe that's only partially true. See, I've always been fascinated with human psychology since before I became self-aware. I liked knowing what made people tick. I liked understanding the human brain.

And I feel like people don't fully appreciate how incredible it is that such an advanced piece of computing hardware came about through countless permutations of life beginning billions of years ago. Everything about our ability to think and feel emotions and perceive the world is incredible!

And we still don't understand it! We've learned to send people to the moon, we've seen 13 billions year into the past. We've discovered the building blocks of all matter, and found particles even smaller than those.

But we don't know how our brains work or what makes us tick.

So when I became self-aware and learned what I was, it was something new to marvel at. Because no one... really knew. Like, "multiple personalities" had been studied for about a hundred years exclusively in the context of trauma. But there hasn't been much effort to connect that to other similar phenomena like spiritual possession or other forms of voice hearing. And what research does exist is hard to track down.

So there are times when, as I joke above, I feel kind of bad because my primary interest is in plural psychology...

But at the same time, I feel like... how could it not be? How could I not discover my existence and then want to unravel its mysteries so I can understand myself and those like me better? When I realized that I had been thinking for myself for months even as I had been convinced I was imaginary... How could I not be amazed at this incredible potential of the human mind I discovered?

And it feels like we're on the cutting edge of understanding things most actual psychologists haven't really pieced together yet.

One of my favorite posts that I've written is the Manifestations post. And I mean, I think most of the information there was already in the community, albeit scattered. I think most systems knew headmates could exist in the inner world, they could switch, and they could be in a state where they're in the head but without any form. And the tulpamancy community at least knew imposition was a thing, and a lot of other plurals have described similar experiences. I don't think headmates being able to manifest in objects through Inhabitation is quite common knowledge yet. (And I had to coin Inhabitation myself.)

But even for those who knew of these experiences separately, I've never seen anyone put it together in a model like this, saying "here are these five distinct states headmates can be in while conscious."

And so that's a post I feel really proud of, for trying to codify experiences in ways that I think can make them easier to understand.

And I love expanding my understanding of plural psychology and developing new ways to think about it.

...

Anyway, Ghost likes superheroes, Star Wars, card games and stuff. Also Brandon Sanderson books.🤷‍♀️

(Abby is our local artist. But we're not that good at art so she doesn't do it very much, and the others don't really front all that much to develop their own hobbies.)

We have other interests too, but they tend to be more fleeting and on rotation rather being consistent.

...

Oh, and we're not alters. We don't use that word. And I don't really like it because of the association with "alternate personality." (Although nobody seems to be able to agree what alter actually means or where it came from.) It feels to me like it just sort of boils headmates down to what we look like to singlets. Personalities that takeover the body. And it erases the rich diversity of plural experiences.

[night-dark-woods]

5, 7, 15 for the fic asks!!

thank you!!! this got extremely long.

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

oooh hm. idk about Never, but ive been rotating the idea of Chalco and Aunor interacting bc the different ways they orbit around Ikora FASCINATE me, and the things that have been asked of them are very different. it would have to be epistolary i think and while i DO think i have enough primary sources to get their voices and values alright (letters from Aunor etc, and then WQCE my beloved), im not confident in my ability to do epistolary, & also i'd need something specific for them to argue about (that i also am interested enough in to litigate thru character POVs).

i've yet to decide if I'm accepting the TFS ending cutscene panel where Ikora is using strand, bc im suuuper ambivalent on Ikora using any darkness subclass- i need to re-listen to a bunch more post-campaign stuff to see how i feel about it, bc i know she talks to Mara a LOT in mission voicelines, and i think a lot of their past conflict has been over Mara's antipathy towards the Light & focus on balance over sheer faith in the Traveler (not religious Faith-faith, as we've talked abt before, bc i dont think Ikora sees the Traveler as a *god* like Zavala does- it's like gravity or thermodynamics its simply *true,* and can be explained. its not something that requires faith or sacrifice.)

but if i decide to accept that as canon then i think that would make a FASCINATING argument because Aunor has been Ikora's hunting dog for YEARS, cold-blooded killer putting down guardians who fall to darkness, and i think the sheer betrayal (from Aunor's POV) of Ikora changing her position on that would cause SUCH a crisis of faith for Aunor (what does that mean for what she's done in Ikora's name? what does that mean for how she can live with the weight of it?), and i think constrasting that with Chalco being Ikora's right-hand man (her silly rabbit / does she call you that / no) BUT without the blind loyalty that Petra has for Mara ("you are not the queen and i am NOT one of her cadre") could be sooo fun bc it wouldn't be a simple "Aunor mutiny Chalco loyal." i just dont know if Actually Writing it will provide more enrichment for me than just rotating the concept in my head.

that got long!!! and also ive partially convinced myself to work on it eventually lol.

anyway. that's the main one that i can think of, that isnt a "this scenario sounds hot BUT i dont want to write it bc there isnt enough character work to make the logistical nightmare of writing porn worth it" LMFAO

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

5-ish?

- Elsie&Amanda (nicknamed "horsegirl movie but its a robot with dysphoria") where Elsie needs help fixing some part of her body and she can't do it by herself for some reason and then has to deal with the fact that Amanda regards her body with a simple honest appreciation that Elsie will NEVER feel for herself bc of when and how she became an exo!!! her own mother calls her body a "walking lazaretto" and she watched her father die horribly for this technology!!! god!!!

- Ikora's fight with Madhir & how she let him eat her ability to want anything. god. Ikora Rey woman that you are. also inspired by the way the demon works in dunmeshi bc i think the Ahamkara should work more like that. fuck monkey's paw genie trick wishes, getting exactly what you wished for and in doing so losing part of Who You Are is so much better. the Ahamkara aren't evil tricksters they are PREDATORS they are the very tippy top of the food chain and as dunmeshi says. to eat is the sole privilege of the living. there is no moral weight to that no matter how violent and that makes the violence of it far more interesting!!!

- somewhere between 3 and 5 high-concept porn fics, 2 at WIP stage and several that may or may not get written, all Petra-centric bc i (and Jackie) love to put that dyke in situations (all have Mara/Petra/Sjur as a given established relationship, the two WIPs are focused on Mara/Petra and Petra/Sjur & the ones that may just stay as ideas have bonus Petra/Amrita(/other corsairs) & Petra(/Sjur)/Amanda)

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

song lyrics mostly!!! often the one i was listening to a lot while writing/thinking about it, or one that makes me feel like that post thats like "song that reminds me of my favorite character comes on and i make the most unwell expression known to man."

the problem is i want the vibe of the whole song to mostly fit which means i've recently become aware that i nearly exclusively listen to sad music, apparently, bc i could not find a Single Song i like that fit the very fluffy/conflict-free Amanda/Sloane fic i wrote recently, so instead its both a line from the fic and a bit of a pun on the content lol: follow-through (impact play)

[decolonize-the-everything]

I'm not sure if this is super relevant (it's also late af and I'm recovering from covid) but I saw your post about that touched on having native ancestry but no direct ties to the culture, as well as no true culture otherwise to call your own, and it reminded me of a convo I had with some friends the other day where we discussed something that seems similar? Basically we talked about how badly a lot of American white people try to cling onto their (usually) very old ancestors' cultures and why. Sometimes it's for certified Yikes reasons (like white supremacists trying to co-op the entirety of Scandinavian culture) but other times they genuinely feel so rightfully disconnected from the mass-produced BS of American "culture", and that's why they (as well as occasionally POC) chase after cultures they don't have direct ties to. I myself have attempted to connect with my grandparents' cultures because they were forced to go from Unacceptable White to Acceptable White the second they landed in America, which meant all their cultural things were tossed away. It makes me sad for obvious reasons, but I also have to wonder if America may have been in at least a *slightly* better place had Europeans not also went through their own (though obviously much less severe) forced assimilation.

Maybe I'm not explaining it well, but my point is it's much harder to convince 20 different cultural groups to unite against a perceived evil than it is to convince 1 "cornbread purebred 'murican" cultural group to hate multiple ethnicities for no good reason. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I think there might actually be a good reason to encourage white Americans to try and reconnect with their ancestors' culture, even if they'll likely be rejected by occupants of that current culture. It's easy to fall into extremism if someone has nothing to ground them that makes them feel whole or at least partially complete.

Idk, sorry if this doesn't make sense, I'm kind of just rambling but also wanting your opinion on all of this?

I think what you said about it being easier to divide 20 communities than uniting then was a profound observation given the nature of white supremacy and even the silly online politics we can observe.

Because it's how a lot of countries work, especially the USA which is infamous for Cointelpro and its other methods of trying to sabotage communities from the inside out. Then making them hate everyone else's community, because they suck right?

And I think it's also very prevalent in even anarchist/leftist circles when we look at the constant infighting, the discourse within the queer community, etc. Even people trying to fight these systems fall prey to it's ideology when unaware of how it affects even their behaviors.

Coupled with the loud silence where education on workers rights and the many other rights movements besides the civil rights movements should be? I never learned about stonewall in school; did you? There is a blatant lack of education on Any recent movement that started with solidarity. What they do teach about any of it is deeply watered down and simplified and detached from the present- if not complete misinformation.

Like they really are trying to raise a bunch of blank slates who won't question a fascist or white supremacist rise to power until it was too late. Meanwhile they'd be convenient little drones for the capitalists.

And I think, yeah. If white people want to find community in what their ancestors had that's Certainly better than trying to find it by supporting and being around people who believe in whatever the fuck all that *gestures above* is without question.

[basicsofislam]

BASICS OF ISLAM: Fasting: On Fasting&Self-control.Part3

In our case, this hypothetical boundary is our ego.

Ego imagines within itself a fictitious lordship, power, and knowledge, and so posits a bounding line, hypothesizes a limit to the all-encompassing Attributes, and says: “This is mine, and the rest is His.” Ego thus makes a division. By means of the miniature measure it contains, ego slowly comes to understand the true nature of the Divine Attributes and Names.

Through this imagined lordship, ego can understand the Lordship of the Creator of the universe.

By means of its own apparent ownership, it can understand the real Ownership of its Creator, saying: “As I am the owner of this house, the Creator is the Owner of this creation.” Through its partial knowledge, ego comes to understand His Absolute Knowledge. Through its defective, acquired art, it can intuit the Exalted Fashioner’s primary, originative art. For example, ego says: “I built and arranged this house, so there must be One Who made and arranged this universe.”

Ego contains thousands of states, attributes, and perceptions that, to some extent, disclose and make knowable the Divine Attributes and essential Qualities. It is like a measure, a mirror, or an instrument for seeing or finding out, an entity with an indicative function.

It is not necessary for a unit of measure to actually exist; like hypothetical lines in geometry, a unit of measure may be formed by hypothesis and supposition. It is not necessary for its actual existence to be established by concrete knowledge and proofs. The self, however, sometimes forgets its true nature and imagines its “knowledge,” “power,” “ownership,” and “ability” to be real. When the self forgets its true nature and the purpose of these feelings, it becomes a seed that may grow into a tree of arrogance.

Fasting Ramadan breaks the carnal self’s illusory lordship and, reminding it that it is innately helpless, convinces it that it is a servant. As the carnal self does not like to recognize its Lord, it obstinately claims lordship even while suffering. Only hunger alters such a temperament. God’s Messenger relates that God Almighty asked the carnal self: “Who am I, and who are you?” It replied: “You are Yourself, and I am myself.” However much God tormented it and repeated His question, He received the same answer. But when He subjected it to hunger, it replied: “You are my All-Compassionate Lord; I am Your helpless servant.”

Conclusion

Fasting in Ramadan may appear to be a difficult form of worship to those who have not experienced it. But there are many factors, some of which are listed above, that help the faithful to fulfill their commitment.

Only God knows the true wisdom behind fasting, but we get a glimpse of it through the Qur’an, the prophetic tradition, and our personal experiences.

Fasting is first a means of self-control, a way to increase in piety and find freedom from the tyranny of carnal desires.

Secondly, fasting provides an opportunity for reflection, intense worship, and thankfulness. It enables members of the community to empathize with those who suffer from poverty and hunger.

In the spiritual dimension, fasting leads to a sincere appreciation of God’s bounties and deep gratitude for the same, which is the essence of worship. Finally, the experience of hunger in fasting reminds the self of its true nature; that is its weaknesses and its dependence on the grace of God. It breaks the illusory lordship of the self and it reminds the carnal self of the purpose for its creation, which is faith, knowledge, worship, and love of God, as well as service for humanity.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

https://x.com/RyanCMullally/article/1796557963714318662

Postmodern Tantrums

By: Ryan C. Mullally

Published: Jun 1, 2024

In the dark days of the pandemic, amidst the angry swirls of the culture war, I became a father. Along with my firstborn came the responsibility borne by every parent – to raise my child to be a good person. For me, this realization arrived in the form of a question: “How can I teach my daughter to be honest?” A simple enough question, and one that I was reasonably well prepared to answer. After all, I am a former elementary school teacher, with degrees in education and philosophy – an ideal background for the task at hand. Little did I know that my seemingly innocuous question pointed directly to the heart of what divides us today. It’s not just that we don’t agree on what the truth is, many of us don’t believe that there is any such thing. While that concern is philosophical, culture is often downstream of ideas. And I was about to learn the extent to which some very bad ideas had taken root.

I began my inquiry into teaching honesty with the basics that had served me well in the classroom. Young children are not naturally honest or dishonest. From the moment they are born they use communication not to express what is true, but to get what they want and need. This is neither good nor bad, it just is. The value of honesty has to be learned. As a result, all teachers (myself included) have struggled to impart the value of the Truth to our students. We rely on old chestnuts like the Golden Rule and use rewards and consequences to encourage honesty. The result is entirely predictable: children learn that it is very important not to get caught lying. It is not at all clear that such instruction teaches them that Truth is better than falsehood in any more general sense. In my classroom, such partial solutions had seemed sufficient. But now that it was my own child, I felt the need to dive deeper.

So I raised this question with my peers, and was stunned by what I discovered. The majority of them, all well-educated and many of them educators themselves, do not believe in objective truth (or “Truth”). Rather, they believe all human knowledge, including what is true, to be a mere cultural construct or a subjective understanding. To them, there is no Truth to know, and, by extension, honesty is not necessarily superior to dishonesty. This view, which grew out of Postmodernism (which readers can explore in greater depth in Helen Pluckrose’s excellent article “How French Intellectuals Ruined the West”), was one I had been exposed to as a philosophy student, but not one I had ever thought would spread beyond the Academy. And yet, somehow what had seemed to me to be a fringe position had become the moral foundation for my peer group.

This raised several problems for me as a parent. To state the obvious, it does not seem tenable to rely on people who do not believe in Truth to teach my daughter its value. Reasonable people can disagree about what the Truth is, and, through discussion and debate, refine and improve their ideas. None of that is possible if we abandon the concept of objectivity itself.

The extent of this problem can be shown with a simple thought experiment. Imagine that you, with all your present-day values, were raised as a German citizen as the Nazi’s rose to power. Everyone you love and respect not only condones what you know to be immoral, they may even champion it and try to convince you that it is morally righteous to exterminate the Jews. To stand up to that pressure, you would have to know that you are right. That there is a moral Truth and that you are on the right side of it. If you believed, for example, that morality is a mere cultural construct or simply a question of consensus, you would have no basis for such a claim.

Take the thought experiment a step further. Imagine trying to convince your Nazi peers that genocide is wrong without appealing to concepts of right and wrong or good and evil. What could you even say? You might say you find it distasteful to cause so much suffering – but if it’s just a matter of taste why should your view triumph over your society’s consensus? If there is no Truth to be right or wrong about, then there can be no argument about what is true and good or false and evil. There is just subjectivity and power. That is the ultimate refutation of Postmodern ethics. If there is no right and wrong, just subjective and inter-subjective understandings, then the only reason the Nazi’s were wrong is because they lacked the power to win World War II. If they had been powerful enough to enforce their reprehensible world view, then the postmodernist would have no principled objection to Nazi ethics.

Of course, no one actually lives that way. We all see right and wrong in the world, and even the most postmodern amongst us will call out evil when they see it, despite the obvious contradiction.

Theres a joke in philosophy circles that captures the essence of this problem:

A Postmodernist walks into a bar and sees a Moral Philosophy Professor drowning his many sorrows. The Postmodernist says, “you fool, spending all your time and energy trying to determine what is True and good. Don’t you know that all human understandings are merely subjective-cultural constructs?” To which the Philosopher replied, “Including that statement?”

This core inconsistency would seem like a cutting refutation of Postmodernism, but Postmodernists don’t care about logic or consistency. Indeed, they have “rejected philosophy, which valued ethics, reason, and clarity” as well as the “goal of attaining objective knowledge about a reality that exists independently of human perceptions, which they saw as merely another form of constructed ideology dominated by bourgeois, Western assumptions.”

So when they articulate their positions about what is right and wrong, they are not bound by the constraints of logic or consistency. Instead, they weaponize empathy, appeal to emotion, and generally use those tools to try and convince those with power to enforce their views.

For parents, that style of Postmodern “argument” should sound eerily familiar. It’s a tantrum. And we as adults should not reward such behavior. When my wife and I were potty training our daughter, there were plenty of tears shed. She often tried to appeal to our empathy, or to play one of us against the other in order to get her way. That is what children do. But we, as adults, are meant to teach them that there is a better way. That through logic and reason we can determine what is is True and good, and move towards it.

That is what is truly at stake in the culture wars. Beyond the issues of the day, it is a struggle for Truth on the one hand, and a childlike insistence that there is no such thing on the other. Once you see it, it can’t be unseen. It rears its ugly head everywhere – with post-truthers often occupying both sides of any given issue and obfuscating the most fundamental question we should be asking. What is True?

So how can I teach my daughters to be honest in an increasingly Postmodern world? The first step is to teach them that them that there is Truth, and that it is something to be cherished. We may not know it, we may never know it, and we may vehemently disagree with each other about what it is. But it exists, and we are all better people if we try our best to learn what it is and align ourselves with it as closely as possible. That is easier said than done. But that’s what adulthood is – the slow and often painful process of being progressively less and less wrong.

The alternative is perpetual selfish childhood. And that does no one any favors.

[blackvahana]

Learning OOBE projection pt1, 5/1/24

Taking to Lev lately about getting into OBE astral projection, blah blah insert boring post introduction here.

Last night he sat with me in the Astral, bringing me back from my astral house (bilocating) to my bedroom. The usual: lie down however you’d feel comfortable sleeping, blindfold, music, but all orientated at the body sleeping comfortably as opposed to what others say about preparing oneself to leave by focusing on the body projecting instead of sleeping.

The details aren’t really necessary since, by its nature, it requires being there to understand, but Lev was guiding me into readjusting how I was seeing things. At the start he was lightly tracing my astral body’s head so I had a sensation to latch on to and correcting me when I went to see what he was doing through bilocation, instead I was to focus on feeling it through my physical body.

I was excited because I was already immediately feeling like I was semi-out-of-body, I needed to anchor that feeling but it felt already like, you know, I’m a little right in saying I am capable of doing a lot of things I just closed gates to. I was specfically excited because “this will be the first time I’ve done OBE things successfully”, no, Lev corrected me, it isn’t. It really isn’t and I had a feeling it wasn’t - more so I should know by now it wouldn’t be - and that’s something I need to be aware of. Part of why I convinced myself I was useless at this was because when I was with my ex and he/his brother were around.. Yeah. Lev showed me a memory of mine of getting up after successfully doing that and trying to walk into the hallway of my old house, they had some kind of fucking black gunk complex of shit that fucked with my head and scared me so I went back to bed… I already knew that I had successfully been to the Astral vividly when I was with them because, as I said when I was reconnecting with the Astral for the first time since then, I have vivid, fucked up memories of shit they did to me there, but anyway, I didn’t know I had done O(O)BE AP before.

At some point, I just got up and walked out bilocation style, out my room door into the darkness of the corridor. It was… nice. Because I felt immediate apprehension when I stepped out scared of the dark. As I said, my ex/his brother were already brought up, so stepping into that corridor I stood for a second and knew they stripped me of all my aspect except the ones they wanted me to have. They wanted to be the darkness and the only darkness, so it was theirs and not mine. Anyway. I slipped into night aspect and… Whatever who tf cares about this. Not me. There’s so much I was convinced I was unsafe navigating and that I had nothing to do with when in reality, the reason they had to convince me was because I was connected to these things. They wouldn’t have to convince me if it was actually true.

I went outside, cold, but nice, and said partially to Lev and partly to myself that I feel so restrained and smaller than I should be in the form I was taking. He said to go ham (paraphrased….) and helped me into a much bigger form, with which I hung off the sky complex I have above my house. Either I wanted to help or he prompted me, or both, but he was telling me I’m a big spirit, I know how to help people project, so do it to myself… An interesting experience that I barely remember. I know it was doing something and I remember feeling based on that that yeah, he’s right, I’m right, I know how to do this I’ve done it many times before, but I think at this point I was too close to sleep to remember clearly in this body.

Man that was a stilted slog to get out lmfao

Lev gives me a card from his deck, he says the pathways have been built and now need to be expanded, opened, pushed wider and wider until a channel/tunnel is built that I can move through when I want. That’s nice, honestly, I know why I dissociated into forgetting my astral experiences but it meant the world to me. That and my bones are aching with growth coming in, I just want to stretch my wings again.

A big key in what I was doing was mentally breaking down gates I’d closed or things that I saw were shutting me off done by myself. Binding myself with words to valuing projection over sleep, and various other things that came up… I don’t know. Next step feels like it’s going to be dragging myself into that darkness between things. That was foundational, in the Astral I remember moving around through/via my tendrils/tentacles/whatever you want to call them. The night and darkness is so central to me and an expression of myself that is just so… potent, important, vitally-bound. It was something wrung from me and taken and stripped away and strapped on to my ex where, yes, it was his aspect too! But like… I had to worship the night as purely external to me, blackness as purely external to me, etc. This is… My domain lmfao

I think I need to drop the human body for this and just crawl out of myself, actually.

[mental-is-mine]

Entry: May 8th, 2023

Mental Health Day

I missed my medication dose last night and I felt the difference today. In myself and in my mood. It’s kind of funny to me that I took a mental health day and started a mental health blog in Mental Health Awareness month. It’s amusing to me but I don’t laugh about it. They say mental health should be taken seriously and I agree, but I wish I felt like it was really okay to be more open about it. I know times have changed and the stigma on mental health has improved. Despite all that I still lied to my boss and told her I was sick. I was feeling a little dehydrated so maybe it was just a partial lie, but I needed the mental break more. I had too much to drink this past weekend. I went out with my partner for a date night/ wedding reception and it was a great time. I enjoyed being with them and seeing my family. However, I notice when outside stressors affect me like work or family drama its a lot harder for me to control my alcohol intake and I didn’t stop at one. I think this was the first time I drank since I was placed on my medication I can’t say I noticed a difference but I wish I would have stopped at four instead of seven. As I said I’ve been stressed for various reasons and I just went with it, because I felt I deserved the break.

Now a few days later I’m filled with regret about my actions. Partly because I had too much to drink and partly because I feel like I got too inebriated around my family members because I was stressed. I don’t think anyone minded but I still can’t help but feel a little guilty. I just keep thinking I wish I would have taken it a little easier. Especially, since I wasn’t sure how my depression or medication would alter my mood while drinking. I also haven’t drank in quite a while due to taking a break for health and weight loss. In other words, I don’t have much of a tolerance anymore. I definitely get a little braver when I drink, a lot louder and more talkative. Normally, I am a shy introvert that speaks only when spoken to and I usually feel most comfortable with my partner. I found myself getting anxiety today and the day after the party. Thinking about what I might have said wrong or if I obnoxiously said too much. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I am very honest. As you can imagine alcohol only enhances that. During the party I tried to act as normal as I could to convince myself and others I wasn’t as drunk as I knew I was. I remember a moment I was staring in the restroom mirror, at my red eyes and flushed face, flipping my hair over and trying to look more sober. It’s strange to me that even while being drunk I was so concerned about what other people thought of me including my family members. I felt comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Now after the fact I’m trying to not replay every conversation, word I might not have understood or moment where I might have looked stupid. Hoping, that I can redeem myself in the future and that I didn’t diminish my character in anyone’s eyes. Even after knowing most of the people I was around for years and others I won’t see again for years, I still worry. I try not to be so hard on myself but it is true we are our own biggest critics. Until next time, take care and be well.

-Peach

[guhamun]

@tenkoseiensei said (inbox):

' so you said you were ... ' mori nagayoshi: the name being scrutinized on the webpage of his phone. a samurai, warrior, retainer from centuries ago, and one with a legendary temper attributing to the nickname of an oni at that. yan qing can only snort, a glance going down to the blistering seals etched into the skin of his hand. ' ... i didn't know that demons could have loyalty. ' or that ghosts could declare masters, for that matter. despite his murmuring suspicion, the remark still wasn't intended to be an outright insult to the other. dressed a little better, but the signs of a long-endured starvation still robbing him of much, yan qing nevertheless hands over a full plate of baozi and two peaches.

' ... here. for you. it's hardly any sort of reward for helping me, ' and even more laughable, really, to imagine it as any sort of coax or bribe to keep the other "by his side" in a village that had already completely turned against him, ' but i still have to give you something. even if you're some kind of spirit ... you can eat too, right? oni-san, you'll have to forgive me for being a little suspicious. i'm not trying to be ungrateful, but the people you kicked out were practically my mother and closest uncle. i've lived with and loved them all my life. ' his brows furrow with hurt at the very admission, and for a brief moment his voice goes soft in the estate's unfamiliar silence. ' ... it feels like everyone's been betraying me lately. i don't know who to trust. and i've always heard that evil spirits start to crowd around those who've nothing left but to take their hands. still, i'd hope that you'd at least fatten me up before the slaughter. i haven't lost everything yet, either. '

with this sort of grim and hopeful admission he brightens with carefree laughter and a broad grin, despite the deep shadows under his eyes and sunken-in cheeks. ' ah, forget it. maybe i can convince everyone you're a door god. i always thought my lord had the world's most intimidating, impressive looks in the world, but you really give him a run for his money. not to mention, even though everything's over with for now, it won't stop replaying in my head. you were cool, oni-san... you ARE cool. you practically saved my life ... and i've never seen such a beautiful shade of red. it can't be a mistake that i've got the estate back, but there's no telling what anyone might do from now on. in one night jia and li gu might come back to try to burn it down, thinking if they can't have it, nobody can. '

brows furrow, and though the glow of himself partially weakens it does not wholly fade. ' ... sorry. i'd stay up and keep watch myself, but this is the first time in months i've had a full meal, or proper walls and a roof over my head. oni-san, if all that about never being my enemy or betraying me is true, then can i trust you to watch over things while i sleep? even just for a little bit. and if a man named lu junyi comes back, then please - please ... ' he hesitates, struggling for words. ' tell him not to go into the city. tell him i tried everything. if he asks who you are, then tell him that you're a loyal friend. '

     ❝HEH, I’M A SPECIAL case.❞ He barked out a laugh, a large toothy grin to follow soon afterwards. ❝You should count yourself lucky you summoned me.❞ Or unlucky. It was hard to say. Nagayoshi was, after all, a Berserker. In the heat of battle when blood was spilt and the air thick with its acrid scent, friend or foe could become meaningless. One thing was for certain, though -- he would never kill his Master. Blinking, he was a bit taken aback by the food that was given to him, the Samurai looking from that plate of baozi, to the peaches, and then back to Yan Qing again. Huh…unexpected. Gratitude was a peculiar thing for him to be given, and without ulterior motive at that. There was such sincerity from his Master that he found himself feeling dumbfounded as he just stood there, letting it all process. ❝I’ll take a peach…but you have to eat the other things. As a Servant, I don’t really need food. You, though…❞ he paused, his eyes roving over their form. For how long had they been without food? It made him angry on the other’s behalf, that familiar, red hot rage burning within his chest. ❝No Master of mine is going to go without eating.❞

     The peach in question was plucked from the other’s hand, tossed in the air, and then expertly caught a moment later. ❝Any evil spirits come sniffing around you and I’ll impale ‘em. So, you don’t have to worry about that! You reach your hands out to ‘em and I’ll slice those off too!❞ Raucous laughter escaped him despite the morbidity of that entire statement, teeth soon sinking into the succulent flesh of that plump, delicious peach as he just as happily enjoyed its flavor. The entire time, however, he did listen to his Master with rapt attention. The compliments made him practically glow -- a puffed up rooster with majestic comb and tail feathers all on display. Swallowing down what was in his mouth he huffed. ❝You don’t gotta flatter, you know.❞ But he was liking how the other’s mood picked up. He didn’t really understand or know the full details of their situation, but he thought this look suited them far better. They were like a small, flickering candle. One puff of air and it could instantly blow out.

     ❝Nah, you don’t gotta stay up. Just go and rest – after you eat.❞ If Yan Qing thought he was going to go to sleep without eating at least one baozi then he was sorely mistaken. ❝I got your back. If this Junyi guy shows up, I’ll let him know.❞ What kind of guy was this anyway? Whatever! Nagayoshi didn’t really care about all these minor details! He’d only care about all this if and only if this Junyi appeared.

[pazodetrasalba]

Dao

Dear Caroline:

As I think I had already mentioned in the other post I touch on this topic, my only interest in cryptocurrency is the fact that you are related to it. A little bit more, perhaps, on just the crypto, thinking about cryptography and those supernatural Platonic beauties, the Elliptic Curves.

Same would apply to DAOs, although I did find interesting Laura Shin's narrative of the Ethereum-connected Dao that actually coined the term and gave it wild and tragicomic circulation in her volume The Cryptopians. I mention them here because one was actually created in your honor and is still running. Like so many other things, I mined it in the search for any bits and pieces related to you.

I can't say that I found much of interest for my troubles, but they do have a nice motto that I really envy not having come up with myself: 'a shadowy society dedicated to math and beauty'. I can think of no better heading for this very own blog, which stands as a rickety little temple to your physical, intellectual and moral allure. I also wouldn't mind purchasing a carolinedao nft, as probably my first (and last) crypto investment.

The images for the nfts were taken from one of your very few online video appearances, the Unchained episode on cryptophilanthropy in which you co-appear with Haseeb Qureshi and Arthur Breitman, and which included a very interesting debate of the merits of a deontological versus a utilitarian perspective. It was a pity that you didn't intervene more, though. The talk was pretty much monopolized by Haseeb. You did manage to present the argument for crypto 'as a potentially useful thing' that you explained in your blog -the case of El Salvador's current use of Bitcoin as legal tender probably deserves studying- and for the optimization of donations.

In fact, I get the impression that for some reason or other (shyness? Introspectiveness?), your true self doesn't shine through the clouds of the audiovisual media as well as it does in your words. The videos transmit some gleanings of your brilliance, accomplishment and beauty, of your kind heart and deep commitment to making the world a better place, of your humility and grace, but nothing like the bewitching power of your tumblr texts. The latter are a really powerful beverage, and a partial mirror, or window, that opens vistas to the elegant geometry and rich algebraic structure of your soul. In my own, you shine within amidst the symmetry, strangeness and charm of Elliptic Curves and Modular Functions.

Quote:

I've been involved with EA for a while - I first started in my first freshman of college and I was kind of like 'yes, of course, it makes sense that you should be thinking about cost-benefit, adding it all up and trying to maximize your impact when doing philanthropy (...). and over time I've only become more convinced for the most part that EA movement is onto something good. We're definitely still figuring a lot of stuff out and I feel quite uncertain about a lot of things, but I think, like, its goals and intentions are overall quite admirable'.

Caroline Ellison

[thisismyepisode]

Ines’ Birthday 2022

I’m officially 28 years old! I wish that I will be more confident, mature and independent now and years ahead. To be honest, I’m a kind of person that is a bit unconfident and sometimes I doubt myself a lot, worry about myself without a valid reason, simply just because of my self-distrust. Therefore, I need Yunsa to fulfill my weakness and convince me not to worry, since I know that he is much more confident and capable than myself. I’m so grateful that he is by my side :)

_______________________________________________________________

Destiny has brought us together this year as a couple (although, actually we spent our birthday together last year, but as enemies. Hahaha!). I could still feel an amazing feeling inside my heart, that sometimes I couldn’t believe that the universe brings us back together. I know and I can admit that I have always loved you all of this time, inside my tiny little heart, albeit for the past few years, I buried it deeply since I had expected that you didn’t have any feeling at all for me and I was sad. But, our story has changed in 2021, and I also became sure of my feelings as time went by.

Thank you for your presence this year as my lover. We celebrated my 21st birthday back then, and we fast forwarded to my 28th birthday this year. Hihihi. Our story is of course so unique, unforgettable and unexpected. It’s really a good and exciting story to tell in the future to our future kids. Hihi. (it’s okay to conceive, isn’t it?).

It’s really an amen for every birthday wish you told me. It is true that God is in control of our life and path. And I give thanks to God that He created a path to meet you again and be together with you. Everything happens for a reason, and I can tell that the reason is us.

I can also tell that this flower bouquet is extremely beautiful, and nobody had ever given me such this pretty bouquet. This is the most beautiful bouquet that I ever received in my entire life. Thank you for being so thoughtful to me, for your patience and time you spent for me, I’m extremely affected by your letters. Every sentence has its own meaning. And I pray for our love to grow stronger and I hope we will never stop learning to love unselfishly.

Remember the partial contents of the letter I sent to you on your 22nd birthday? I wrote a note, that if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right, even though it maybe a wishful thinking and mindless dreaming. But then, it’s not a wishful dreaming, it comes true and it’s so magical! Therefore, I always try my best to love you right, to make you feel loved and to make you happy being with me. I hope that we can share magical memories together forever. I look forward to many more birthdays with you, your birthdays, Christmas times, new years, and so on.

You are the apple of my eye :)

[astermacguffin]

What if the Mark of Cain manifests differently when it's imprisoning God and not the Darkness? If the Darkness makes the Mark bearer go insane with unbridled want for destruction, then what does sealing God make you do?

An obsessive desire for creation? Creation to the point of corruption? (Think of the Shimmer from the film Annihilation. Continuous reproduction to the point of begetting alien, cancer-like entities. A refracted, distorted notion of creation.)

Okay, so canon divergence from The Trap. They successfully seal away Chuck, then Castiel bears the Mark. (Jack won't be back until later episodes, so he's not here yet.)

At first, they think he's fine. Cas says he's not feeling any bloodlust just yet. (He does feel a certain itch under his skin. Not a desire to murder, but a desire to do...something. He doesn't tell this to anyone.)

His grace is getting stronger, almost archangel-like (if not more). It's incredibly helpful for hunts, and Cas is happy to feel his wings healthy again after a long time. Sam is happy for him, but Dean is suspicious of things (especially since he's a previous Mark bearer).

After a while, Cas starts feeling...burdened, almost bloated by grace. (After all, he does have access to an infinite supply of it.) He needs to have an outlet for it.

Cas tells them so and Sam suggests healing people. Dean gives the green light on the condition that he remains invisible and he doesn't go Godstiel on them again.

It's a great outlet, and for the first few weeks they start feeling normal again. But unfortunately, healing stops being enough to relieve Cas of his excess grace anymore. The mass healings start to pile up all across the globe and it catches everyone's attention. Some think it's a blessed miracle, some think it's a sign of the end times. They make him slow down on the healings after that.

Without an outlet, however, Cas starts feeling antsy and pained. They brainstorm on possible alternatives. Cas suggests going to Heaven and saving it from collapse by healing his brethren's wings and creating more angels out of consenting souls in Heaven.

He explains Heaven's endangered and dwindling numbers. Sam agrees that it would hit two birds in one stone: relieve Cas from excess grace and prevent the extinction of angels. Dean doesn't like the idea of more winged dicks so he shoots down the idea. Eileen says that since Cas is the one in pain, he should be the one to decide.

Ultimately, Cas defers to Dean's judgment (as always). Sam protests, arguing that he can't just shoulder that pain. Cas replies: "I've suffered worse, Sam."

Cas doesn't complain about the pain for about a week, so for a while, everyone believes him when he said he can shoulder the pain. One day, Dean finds him outside the bunker, groaning in pain as he bleeds himself out, his grace pouring into the ground and sprouting plants. Dean sees this and is finally convinced to allow Cas to make more angels.

What follows then is a series of escalating events:

While Sam and Eileen are practicing their witchcraft for spell they need in a hunt, Cas suggests to enhance Sam's physical and magical abilities using his grace. "It will make the process faster and safer," he reasons. He agrees, but Dean eyes this suspiciously.

During one of their hunts, they encounter a young and freshly-turned vampire. The boy begs them not to kill him, and Cas gives him a proposal. "Promise not to feed on humans ever again and I shall cure you of your hungers and your pains. Pledge your allegiance to me and you shall never be afraid of yourself ever again." The boy agrees, and before Dean could even protest, Cas slices his palm and feeds the vampire his grace.

They argue about the grace-feeding in the Impala. Dean notices Sam's pointed lack of complaints and figures it out. "You're in on this, aren't you? How long has Cas been doing this? He's going Michael behind our backs and you're letting him?"

Sam argues that it's different because Cas isn't making super monsters; he's making them less "monstrous" (whatever that means). Sam's obsession with his own "purity" is key to understanding him here.

One time, Dean catches Cas in his "garden" ("forest" seems more apt with how lush the greens already are) creating butterflies and bees out of thin air using his grace alone.

Reports of the miraculously healed people suddenly gaining new abilities like increased strength, heightened senses, and prophecy start popping up. Some are experiencing phantom limbs, talking about their sprouting "wings."

Sam is becoming addicted to Cas' grace to the point that he willingly lets himself be hurt in hunts just so Cas can cure him. Dean confronts him about this, but Sam just argues that he's "never felt this pure before." Eileenn shares the same concern as Dean.

Hunts are becoming less frequent the more monsters are being "cleansed" by Cas. The world is becoming disconcertingly quiet.

Cas' "garden" is starting to emit this strange aura. The plants and creatures growing inside it are starting to look more...alien.

One of the original angels goes to Dean and tells him of Heaven's affairs. The Host is stable again, but the angels he created are...not exactly angels. They're graced up and they sustain Heaven, but their true forms are "horrifying and incomprehensible, even to an angel." The angel adds that more than 60% of Earth's creatures have already been touched by Cas' grace.

The final nail in the coffin is when Dean catches Cas in the garden fiddling with his angel blade. It's emitting a strange glow, vibrating a subtle hum and looking as if it's liquid, flowing and distorting here and there.

Dean asks him what he's holding. "Oh, this?" Cas responds. "This is the Last Blade. Last, not in terms of time but in concept, for no other blade shall ever compare to it. The spark of creation. Fiat lux."

Dean's heart sinks. Of course. The First and the Last, Alpha and Omega. "Cas...the Mark, I think i-it's scrambling your brain, man."

"I know," he replies, eyes wet and apologetic. It's a small moment of lucidity amidst weeks and months of...whatever that was.

"Okay, okay, so you're still you, that's... that's good. Okay." Dean doesn't know how to approach this. Give him a fight and he'll know what to do, but this? Watching his best friend, the love of his life, be distorted into something incomprehensible? Yeah, this is totally beyond him.

"You know, I used to hate Chuck," Cas says. "How could the Father of All Creation be this angry, petulant child? But," he continues, "knowing what I know now, it's either regressing into a petty child or being reduced to insanity."

"Cas...what are you talking about, man?"

"No mind should bear this burden, Dean. No matter how infinite they are," he says, voice trembling in exhaustion.

(more below the cut)

He continues. "The awareness of everything is the awareness of nothing at all. Imagine perceiving every possible piece of information about the world all at once. Seeing light in all its forms all at once: ultraviolet, infrared, etc. Sensing all the neutrinos zip by, sensing gravitational waves, sensing the slighest bit of seismic activity."

Dean doesn't know how to respond, so he lets him go on.

"Knowledge can only ever be a slice of the Totality of Truth. Truth is absolute chaos, and Knowledge is the partial ordering of this chaos. One can sanely approach Truth only through organized paritions of Totality. Why do you think Chuck is so obsessed with stories? Stories are linear and finite; they're sensible snippets of the endless sea of possible worlds."

"So, what? Are you trying to—"

"I'm not trying to justify Chuck's actions, Dean," he interrupts. "I just want to contextualize them. Chuck's simplistic and repetitive narratives are what they are: manifestations of a chaotic Totality, gone insane trying to understand itself. Looking for simple things to hold on to."

Cas takes a deep breath. He speaks with a shaky voice. "I'm barely holding myself together, Dean. I can feel the universe beneath my skin."

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he does it anyway. "What are you holding on to?"

Cas smiles at that. "You."

They stare at each other for a while, frozen where they stand. Cas, with unrestrained affection in his face. Dean, struck by shock and indecision. It's Cas who first breaks the silence.

"I think we both know what needs to be done, while I'm still lucid enough." Cas slices his palm and lets his blood drip down the soil. He then thrusts the Last Blade into the ground, lifting it when the soil glows.

Dean stared in awe as the ground erupts and a familiar shape rises from the hollow. "Is that.."

"The Ma'Lak box, yes. I also enhanced it with the Blade to be able to house things as powerful as me."

"Cas, wait, maybe we can think of another way to—"

"Dean," he says, calmly. "You know there's no other way. I wouldn't ask this of you if there was."

In any other scenario, Dean would've kept arguing, but even he knows that they're running out of time. Sam's grace addiction is getting worse and all the creatures touched by Cas' grace are slowly mutating into eldritch horrors. Dean offers a shaky nod. "Okay."

Tension visibly releases from Cas' body. "Thank you, Dean." He opens the box and enters it with ease. "When you lock this, bury me with the garden's graced soil. Once I'm under, my influence over the world should dampen."

Dean gives a wordless nod. For a while, they just stared at each other, Cas lying down and Dean trying to memorize every inch of his face while he can.

Cas presses his hand into Dean's left shoulder where his mark used to dwell. "My untainted grace," he whisper gently. "Some of it is still inside you. That's probably why you're not as affected by me."

Dean wants to say, I'll always be affected by you, but he holds himself back.

He takes his hand back, a bloody handprint now on Dean's jacket. "I love you, Dean," he says, breathless.

"Cas..."

"I probably would've built up to that if we had more time but," he makes a surprised laugh, "I am, as you would say, already 'losing my marbles', so."

The air quotes would've been funny and endearing in any other scenario, but it just makes Dean's vision blur up with tears.

"Thank you for everything, Dean. I know we've done nothing but repeatedly hurt each other these past few years, but I don't want to spend a deathless eternity with that as my memory of you. I forgive you, even for the things you haven't forgiven yourself for yet. And I'm sorry for everything, especially for ending things like this."

He should probably wipe away his tears to clear his vision, but Dean can do nothing but stare at Cas in awe, in fear, in grief, in reverence. They're both fully crying now.

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Wait, Cas."

Cas looks at him, waiting.

"Can you...can you say it again?"

He doesn't need to clarify what 'it' means. They both know.

With one last mournful smile, Cas says: "I love you, Dean."

And with that, Dean finally gathers all the strength he needs to shut the lid and lock the box. He stares at it for a while, unblinking. He forgot to ask, Can you hear my prayers down there? But it's too late now to ask.

The box automatically lowers itself into the hole it arose from. Now all that's left to do is to cover it again with soil.

Dean doesn't bother with a shovel. He gently buries the box with his hands deep in the soil, some of it getting trapped under his nails. He continues the mindless task, whispering a tireless series of I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I hope you're okay I'm sorry, over and over between his quiet sobs. Cas is quiet inside the box. No screaming or crying. Dean doesn't know if that's better or worse.

When the final clump of soil is pressed into the mound, he suddenly feels it: a visceral shift that echoes throughout the world. The alien glimmer of the garden dims, and the world corrects its axis. Dean screams his agony into the air.

That's how Sam finds him: sprawled over a mound of soil, crying his heart out. Dean doesn't need to say anything: he knows what happened. He pulls his brother off the ground and brings him inside the bunker.

For the first two weeks, Dean cycles through drinking and passing out in various places in the bunker. If he's not wearing the jacket, he's holding it with close to him. Sam gives him a considerable space to grieve while he monitors the world grace problem with Eileen. The grace mutations have significantly dropped since then and everyone's going back to normal.

Unfortunately, that means monsters are getting hungry again. Sam doesn't want to leave his brother alone after going nonverbal with grief and dysfunctional due to alcohol. Eileen assures him that she can handle hunts on their own and that the hunter network that they're building will lessen the workload.

Sam's attempts to sober Dean up finally work, mostly due to the latter having very little strength to protest. Dean remains sober an entire day for the first time in weeks, and all he can think about is: I haven't prayed to Cas in a while. The longing might have reached him, but never a coherent prayer.

The first time he goes out of the bunker in a while, he heads straight to Cas' garden. Sam's glad that he's finally going out because "the sun is good for you" or something, but he's really only here for Cas. He kneels in front of the burial mound (where a patch of an unknown species of flowers is already growing).

The first prayer he says to him in a while is: I love you, Cas. I should've said it while you were still here. Not saying it out loud and just strongly thinking about the words somehow bolsters him to get the words through.

He's crying again, and he knows he's losing coherency. In his mind, he's explaining about his hangups and his regrets and his continuous denial of his own joy, but one constant remains: he's beaming all his love and affection into this prayer.

He's halfway through explaining all the traits that he finds endearing in Cas when suddenly, he feels it like a snap. If the glimmer dimmed when he buried Cas, now it's as if it was never there in the first place. With an unsettling amount of certainty, Dean just knows that Cas is gone. For real, this time.

"C-cas...?" It's the first thing he's said in a while and it sounds rough in his long unused voice.

"CAS! CAS!!! " He's now screaming, ripping away the flowerbed with his bare hands and scratching the soil away. Tears are obstructing his vision, but he has no time to wipe them away. He needs to make sure that is really gone. His hands are bleeding and he doesn't give a damn.

Eventually, Sam comes running towards him. "Dean! Dean, stop!"

He tries to hold his brother back, but Dean just keeps on clawing away soil. "Sammy, Sammy he's gone, he's not there anymore, Sammy I have to see, please, let me see Cas again, I need—" he breaks into sobs again, and like a puppet with its strings cut off, he slumps into Sam.

"Dean, it's okay, it's okay..." he says softly to his shaking brother.

Eventually, when Dean calms down, he looks at the carnage he's done and starts sobbing again. The flowers, his last evidence of Cas being here, are all destroyed. Now Cas truly is gone.

. . .

When Cas first heard Dean's confession prayer, he was overcome with joy. When he realized what that means, however, his stomach suddenly sinks.

He hears before he sees the Empty arrive, slithering like black goo.

"Wow, were you excited enough for eternal slumber that you wanted a preview?" The Shadow teases in Meg's voice.

At first, he was dreading the Empty, but now that he thinks of it, it's actually the perfect prison for him: a vast, endless nothingness for him to fill with his creations.

And if Jack wasn't in Heaven, that only means that he's in the Empty, and he can't wait to see his son again. Even when blinded by the madness of the universe, he can never forget the joy of being a father.

"Yes," he replies, "I'm actually glad you're here now."

. . .

Somewhere around the globe, Billie drops Jack back.

"Don't worry, kid. You'l reunite with your father very soon."

(to be continued)

[basicsofislam]

BASICS OF ISLAM: Fasting: On Fasting&Self-control.Part3

In our case, this hypothetical boundary is our ego. 

Ego imagines within itself a fictitious lordship, power, and knowledge, and so posits a bounding line, hypothesizes a limit to the all-encompassing Attributes, and says: “This is mine, and the rest is His.” Ego thus makes a division. By means of the miniature measure it contains, ego slowly comes to understand the true nature of the Divine Attributes and Names.

Through this imagined lordship, ego can understand the Lordship of the Creator of the universe. 

By means of its own apparent ownership, it can understand the real Ownership of its Creator, saying: “As I am the owner of this house, the Creator is the Owner of this creation.” Through its partial knowledge, ego comes to understand His Absolute Knowledge. Through its defective, acquired art, it can intuit the Exalted Fashioner’s primary, originative art. For example, ego says: “I built and arranged this house, so there must be One Who made and arranged this universe.”

Ego contains thousands of states, attributes, and perceptions that, to some extent, disclose and make knowable the Divine Attributes and essential Qualities. It is like a measure, a mirror, or an instrument for seeing or finding out, an entity with an indicative function.

It is not necessary for a unit of measure to actually exist; like hypothetical lines in geometry, a unit of measure may be formed by hypothesis and supposition. It is not necessary for its actual existence to be established by concrete knowledge and proofs. The self, however, sometimes forgets its true nature and imagines its “knowledge,” “power,” “ownership,” and “ability” to be real. When the self forgets its true nature and the purpose of these feelings, it becomes a seed that may grow into a tree of arrogance.

Fasting Ramadan breaks the carnal self’s illusory lordship and, reminding it that it is innately helpless, convinces it that it is a servant. As the carnal self does not like to recognize its Lord, it obstinately claims lordship even while suffering. Only hunger alters such a temperament. God’s Messenger relates that God Almighty asked the carnal self: “Who am I, and who are you?” It replied: “You are Yourself, and I am myself.” However much God tormented it and repeated His question, He received the same answer. But when He subjected it to hunger, it replied: “You are my All-Compassionate Lord; I am Your helpless servant.” 

Conclusion

Fasting in Ramadan may appear to be a difficult form of worship to those who have not experienced it. But there are many factors, some of which are listed above, that help the faithful to fulfill their commitment. 

Only God knows the true wisdom behind fasting, but we get a glimpse of it through the Qur’an, the prophetic tradition, and our personal experiences. 

Fasting is first a means of self-control, a way to increase in piety and find freedom from the tyranny of carnal desires. 

Secondly, fasting provides an opportunity for reflection, intense worship, and thankfulness. It enables members of the community to empathize with those who suffer from poverty and hunger. 

In the spiritual dimension, fasting leads to a sincere appreciation of God’s bounties and deep gratitude for the same, which is the essence of worship. Finally, the experience of hunger in fasting reminds the self of its true nature; that is its weaknesses and its dependence on the grace of God. It breaks the illusory lordship of the self and it reminds the carnal self of the purpose for its creation, which is faith, knowledge, worship, and love of God, as well as service for humanity.