an erotic game

एक वादे पे उम्रे गुज़र जाएंगी

[reclusivewife]

i take into my arms more than i can bear to hold 𐂂

[persianmom]

[girlsclothes]

everything is way too much lately

[funeral]

Many places have a "forest that shouldn't be entered." Even people who are used to working in the mountains feel there is something there. They are suddenly overcome with fear and it becomes the custom to avoid certain places. These places exist. I don't know what is there, but I think they are real . . . The world is more than we can fathom with our five senses. The world doesn't exist just for humans. So I think it is all right to have such things. This is why I think it's a mistake to think about nature from the idea of efficiency, that forests should be preserved because they are essential for human beings . . . I am concerned, because for me the deep forest is connected in some way to the darkness deep in my heart. I feel that if it is erased, then the darkness inside my heart would also disappear, and my existence would grow shallow.

Hayao Miyazaki, “Totoro Was Not Made as a Nostalgia Piece” in Starting Point: 1979-1996

[unreadable]

[mixedindy]

ɪɢ:sᴜɴʟɪɢʜᴛᴀғᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʀᴋ

[the-grassy-hill]

sorry if i come off as rude my mother didn't like me for several years

[undx-deactivated20170219]

[reclusivewife]

i wanna go back home

[transmechanicus]

I love the idea of dead gods. Not in the sense of “hey i killed something supernaturally strong” but in the sense of “i killed it and it’s still a god.” It is still worshipped. prayers are still answered. miracles are performed in its name, even as it lies pierced by a thousand swords and burning with chemical fire. even as it drifts through vacuum, decapitated and bleeding molten rock. in cosmic spite of being shot through each eye and hurled into a plasma reactor, it still radiates the power of the divine in a way that primitive death cannot smother. the nature of godchild is not so simple as to be tied to the mortality, or immortality, of any living being.

[bogleech]

In science that's called a whalefall :)

[malwaregoose]

best website

[gatheringbones]

“There wasn’t music as much as there was terror so the music became as much a part of the terror as the terror it- self the swell of the arpeggio building and breaking, building and breaking, upon the shores of you. Your shores washed slowly away but not slowly enough, you feel it, every grain of sand a note going under, bluing the body, granular and wet. This has happened before. You were not special. You belonged to no group of any more particular concern than another. But the music has become you. The hurt coming out, from your open mouth, could open a grave. Let every done-wrong hain’t throw its head back and groan. Not done-wrong as in some- body loved left, somebody is always left, but someone who deserved to live as much as anyone else who died by another’s hands or neglect or the indifference of someone who cared less or just not about you. And you sang like you cried until the music of leaving, of long-gone became you. Does it matter how many strings? It only takes one to make this music. But let’s say it was the sound of a choir that accompanied the run of blood down a leg. Let’s say a violin sped its notes down the side of a neck, a tirade of pricks. Or a high C from a voice thrown sharp as the pieces of skull a bullet through the head would leave. Or the river, the river rush- ing cold and rock-bottomed, with its own furious song carries you with it, sings you right over the falls. That is when terror is not blue but bluer, blue, as capillaries bursting from an eye, blue as the vein under this razor, blue as the skin beat so far it breaks into song, a song like this. I’ve sung this so many times dear my voice has almost given way, and I’m so scared.”

— VIEVEE FRANCIS Canzone in Blue Then Bluer

[imacone]

"Passingly, I think that this might always have been inevitable, that perhaps she had always known it but had wanted to hold on for me, for as long as she could."

-Our Wives Under the Sea

[reclusivewife]

"some foreigners incorrectly translate Sakti as “Siva’s,” when the scriptures are clear his absolute sovereignty itself is her, and thus, the kubjika tantra says:

it is not brahma, visnu, and rudra who creates, preserves, and destroys, but brahmi, vaisnavi, and rudrant. “their husbands are as inert as corpses.”

the last statement is a broader revelationof Sakti as not only power, but also sat, citta, and ananda, where it is she who is the form of all the devatas and will subtly directing their influence; who is both creation and the inner reflective state of deep sleep. this statement is vividly seen in several iconographies, especially in pertinence to kali kula, beautifully demonstrating her cosmic dance of access, control, and dissolution through various divine mediums.

on twitter

[skrewz-deactivated20190113]

[reclusivewife]

oh to be written about like rhiannon (fmac)

[glowinasia]