Love The Dullahan Self

KPR-62 Gnawing Void "my writing" for my original works

[highpriestofpunk]

I hope you in the future can see us all

Trapped in the belly of this great beast

Too tired and powerless to do anything but survive

Complicit in all its suffering

Beneficent of so few of its joys

We are simply cells

Toiling away until we blessedly expire

There isn't even a man behind the curtain to direct our hatred at

Every part is interchangeable after all

The most unkillable organism we've found yet

May our lives be comfortable and our deaths dignified

We haven't even achieved that much

When we don't have an external foe to agree upon we turn on each other

And then when we are forcibly and violently reminded of the pain of nonconformity

We raise a new generation of perfect little clockwork soldier boys and girls

And then the war machine turns outward

And prosperity is secured

The greatest hope were afforded is to die a victim or live as a nation of bandits

Just please remember that some of us were trapped

That none of us wished for such a fate

That even the nazi's began as innocent babes

That it's no longer just the machinations of men that corrupt

That we've created a great and terrible artificial creature

That we've situated ourselves as the cells of this beast

That for most of us this is a horrific affair

That we truly have no hope for anything better than what's given

For to strive for anything else is a crime

We either die as victims

Or live as monsters

And it is our very parents that indoctrinate us

Our very mothers that show us scorn for not going along with it

Our fathers that beat us for stepping out of line

Our peers that ostracize us for being a suitable enough target

God I love this great nation

May every American eat each other to death

Universe 25 in action

The rats and the cows and the pigs and humans

All just cells making up an even larger beast

An even greater monster

How can anyone look it square in the eye and feel anything but despair

No I know how

I'll kill the great beast

I'll slay the great terror

It's not the US

It's empire

It's the natural conclusion of resource hoarding and permanent settlements

[gouged-doll]

kaoru mori, ghost marriage | my scans

[gouged-doll]

kaoru mori, ghost marriage | my scans

[gouged-doll]

kaoru mori, ghost marriage | my scans

[kismets-number-1-fan-blog]

So there is this entity. A three faced thing. A creator and a destroyer and a man behind the curtain keeping the show running for both of them. And there's this girl, more of an entity really, by the name of kismet but that's getting too far ahead.

There's this entity who sees the whole triple faced thing doing its thing and starts to feel bad for the man behind the curtain. It's putting in all this work to give the destroyer and the creator a sandbox to play in and the whole while it looks absolutely miserable. Now this entity isn't one to sit back and watch while someone's suffering so it approaches, tries to get the man behind the curtain to look its way and stop slaving over that dumb orb and those make believe people. But the damn dummy won't budge, won't give even the slightest sign of noticing her. Now this has her pissed. The only thing she hates more than someone suffering is an idiot who won't just let you help them. So what does she do?

She explodes, naturally. If the only thing that can draw his attention is this little world of his and his two stupid make believe children then she'll just become a part of that make believe world and make it so it's impossible for him to see anything but her telling him how dumb he is

But she made one little miscalculation. You see when you split you consciousness enough to exist In a lower plane of reality it can be very hard to remember much of anything from before that act.

In comes Kismet the only shard of her with enough sentience and sense to try and reconnect with her other shards. Will she cease to exist by doing this? Probably. Does she have anything but faith and trust in her past self to motivate her? He'll no! But she tries anyway and keeps on trying and that's why she's the hero of this story.

[buriedknight]

Cut down and devour. Only those who repeat the cycle without rest can truly subvert the self and become Rakshasa.

[gallant-char]

Every time we see the federations stupid ship a different one of the zaku pilots looks at me like "put me in coach" and i have to pretend that he isnt about to get ripped in half by an enemy soldier who's clearly having a panic attack over comms

[gardenofdelete998]

can you tell i missed out on smth fundamental in my formative years 😏

[isuggestforcefem]

You can be a girl. It's scary, it feels like too much, like something you don't deserve, I know. But you can be happy, happy as a girl. And you don't need to deserve anything. I would hand you the world, if I could.

[philorot]

And for my next trick I’ll hand you over my caiman daughter bc it’s my birthday and I can do whatever I want

[nigelgraz]

(OC) Anemic and sweet

[rootsandtides]

[hazygl0w]

[dark-magician-girl-meets-world]

Just escaped from Hell thanks to the incredibly convenient road leading directly out! Apparently it was paved with good intentions? Thanks for those, everybody! They worked out great, just like always!

[tateratots]

Rose O'Neill knew what was up

[tateratots]

you Wish you has a monster wife as big and tender as this

[tateratots]

Yes this is the same Rose O'Neill who invented Kewpies

A quote from O'Neill: “The buffoonery of the Kewpies and the passion of my serious drawings playing side by side is unusual, but not too unusual. In this droll existence, the Hamlet and Lear have always consorted with the clown.”

Here’s some more of her “Sweet Monsters”. This series was very personal to her, and she meant to keep all these drawings private until Auguste Rodîn insisted she show them.

You can read about this collection HERE and see more in person if you’re ever in the Ozarks.

[ashes2caches]

we’re destroying the united states and replacing it with ten thousand tiny fiefdoms ruled by semi-tyrannical trans women in princess dresses.

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.