0: The Fool

The color was beautiful, but the wrong shade of blue" "We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams. World-losers and world-forsakers On whom the pale moon gleams, Yet we are the movers and shakers of the world for ever, it seems"  between

[joytri]

At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon.

Edgar Allan Poe, The Sleeper

[iamjapanese]

Stefan Johansson（Swedish, 1876–1955）

Ljuset（The light） 1925 watercolor via

[vintagewildlife]

Hand in the maw of a wolf skull By: Leonard Lee Rue III From: The Order of Wolves 1976

[sheiskindasweet]

[indigodreams]

Esben Hanefelt Kristensen

[jareckiworld]

Joanna Karpowicz — The Fox's Wedding (Anubis Meets Yōkai) [acrylic on canvas, 2022]

[1five1two]

[0thefool]

It’s something, not quite love,

when the roar of scaled gleaming highways

seems (when we close our eyes) the sea,

thrumming salty up the throats of humming caves;

Or wide-eyed, a wayward world

screaming down the Thunderpath, rocketing through atmospheres

to pierce the (oh-so-temporary) stillness

(And you’ve never called me beautiful,

But you've never seen such tiny fingernails)

I could laugh or weep or kiss you

But sadly, I choose all three

(I’d rather lay myself down in the sea and swallow up the galaxy)

Something, not unlike love

(And only I know what makes me hold my tongue)

I fear the day, ever closer coming,

You’ll catch that heavy thud, and flee the sound of gory hunter’s heels crashing red

Instead of the stumbling yowls of the hunted

(My hunted heart)

The beast of devotion beats through the brush,

she lays bones quietly at your feet in the darkness

and recoils at the scent of your fear

(Those blasts aren’t crimson-hungry bullets)

I wish you knew

(These things only I know)

That She could never hurt you,

even if She tried

(Not even if She died)

She sends you screaming like an avalanche

(You’d never know how much She loves the cold)

This is something, only possible when you know

you can’t love someone

because in loving him, he hurts

so even if We wanted to,

It wouldn’t be love if We did

(But maybe something, something close)

I’ve loved the parts of you before the unloveable you was formed

He’s something, almost human

(Trust me)

Human is the hardest thing to be.

[enchantedbook]

'Pale Woman' by Wladyslaw T Benda, 1922

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Lucille Clifton, from Two-Headed Woman: Poems of L. C.; “Mother I Am Mad,”

[kino-zoo]

The Creature (1977)

[lionfloss]

by artist Miki Kim

[daweyt]

— Emily Brontë, from "Wuthering Heights", originally published c.

[blackhoody]

[cyberxbattalion]

[mokomokuren]

transparent tombstone

[derangedrhythms]

But I am all for you, and you are that world in which I walk.

Sylvia Plath, The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956 — Ted Hughes, 1st October 1956