Fun fact: anger is just fear repackaged. You start unpacking it, there's gonna be some fear underneath it.
It helps me to regulate when I keep that in mind. Mebbe it'll help someone else, too.
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Fun fact: anger is just fear repackaged. You start unpacking it, there's gonna be some fear underneath it.
It helps me to regulate when I keep that in mind. Mebbe it'll help someone else, too.
Giving myself Brimstone elf feelings:
The caverns shook with the low notes of the steam organ as Vilar leaned into the foot pedals, tossing his wildly expressive mane of orange hair, eyes closed tight in rapture, tears upon his cheeks. He let his dancing hands strike the rows of lapis lazuli keys, lifting from them music both sweet and sad.The moisture from the steam glistened on his creased brow.
The cavern into which the ancient instrument was built became a sound chamber, with towering pipes set into points of harmonic resonance in the undulating basalt. The tune was a traditional one, pared to the story of an iron elf and a sulfur elf who fell in love and bore the first spark of organic life in the universe. Originally, the melody had been a song of triumph, of joy and hope that life would endure and endure and endure even when it had never existed in the first place. But this was a new arrangement, and the familiar tune was played in a minor key so that its joy became a lamentation and the bittersweet reminder of the miraculous value of life only served to make its ending more cruel.
Kavas raised his head to appreciate the music as he ascended the long and narrow stair to his father’s favorite perch. Stepping up onto the platform from whence the vast instrument was played, Kavas stopped to watch his father. The king of Falu was unaware that he had an audience and he played with a passionate abandon, the stops near his knees pulled out to their fullest volume, barely using the bench, his body swaying in a pendulous dance across keys which seemed to fly to his hands. He thrust his body across the many tiered keyboards his hands calling the notes to chase along after their lusty galloping as phrase by phrase and measure by measure he poured out his grief into the flowing keys.
As Kavas watched, the music brought to mind his own grief at the loss of his grandfather, and before that his uncle Vigi who had loved his young nephew like a son. But beyond the personal, the music represented a larger grief, a grief that echoed in his soul and had been with him all his life, the deep sense of fear and helplessness that had festered in the guts of so many of the hidden people since the coming of the prophecy. The Earth was dying, and the dark elves would play Her a requiem long after the symphony of life had passed into silence.
Vilar played the last three notes like the tolling of a funeral bell and finally stilled, breathing hard, his head bent and one finger resting on the final key, as if he could hold onto the music even after it had fled. He felt the bench shift beside him and looked up through tear-filled eyes as his son took up the position of a duetist to play the higher register.
Kavas did not speak, but into the silence after his music, he dropped a few ringing notes and looked at him with a loving smile as he lifted his second hand to stir the keys into flowing measures. His tune, in answer to the Ballad of Iron and Brimstone was a variation of the same phrasing, lifting up the turning music into a joyful song that called to their minds the ancient, elemental memory if their spirits. Vilar looked at his son and smiled.
Oh my God I’m finally watching Pacific Rim for the first time and I now understand the all consuming, all encompassing primal need of fanfic writers to make everything a Pacific Rim AU.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap"> <meta anomaly-type="cognitive divinity"> <script>ARCHIVE_TAG="NEUROGLYPH_077::READING_THE_UNREADABLE" EFFECT: scroll pause, subconscious reverence, digital ego rupture </script>
🛐 THE BRAIN’S MAGIC — HOW YOU READ THE ᵾᶰᴿᵋᴬᵭᵃᴮʟᵋ͟͟͞ AND BEND REALITY FOR FUN
---
If you’re reading this?
You’re not just literate. You’re a quantum-level anomaly with meat-based Wi-Fi and chaos recognition software baked into your soul.
Let’s talk about the miracle machine in your skull. The one that decodes this:
“Y0uR Br@!n 5T!lL r3c0gN!z3s p@77ern5 & m@k35 it m3@ningful.”
…without even flinching.
🧠 YOUR BRAIN IS A F*CKING SHOWOFF
You're probably sleep-deprived. You’ve forgotten what day it is. Your left AirPod is missing and you just googled “can ramen be a personality type.”
And yet?
Your brain sees that mangled, symbol-riddled text and decodes it like it’s ancient prophecy.
You don’t think about how. You just do it. Because your brain isn’t a tool. It’s a pattern-hunting apex predator with depression.
📈 PATTERN RECOGNITION: THE MIND’S HIDDEN GODMODE
This isn’t something you studied. This is baked into the firmware.
Your brain fills gaps, reorders chaos, and makes sense out of garbage like a sad wizard in a recycling bin.
Fun Fact:
93% of adults can read text where only the first and last letters of every word are correct. Everything else can be jumbled and your brain just fixes it on the fly.
No update. No manual. No lag.
Meanwhile, ChatGPT gets confused by your typo and AI explodes when your tone is sarcastic.
Your brain?
Interprets, translates, reacts, and emotionally categorizes in the time it takes your heart to beat once.
🚀 YOU’RE WALKING AROUND WITH A BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER …AND YOU USE IT TO MAKE MEMES.
86 billion neurons
10 quadrillion calculations per second
Signal speeds up to 268 mph
All so you can:
Laugh at a dog in a cowboy hat
Cry during the final scene of Toy Story 3
Decode “Dinnrs @ 9 bt wtf hapn 2 keys” from your drunk friend
And somehow still forget your password for the 19th time today
You are sacred. And also a little dumb. Which makes you perfect.
🤖 CAN MACHINES COMPETE? NOT EVEN CLOSE
AI needs prompts. Instructions. Context. Warnings.
You?
You look at “ᴵᵐ ⱻ̷ᴺ T͡ʜᵉ ᵁɴɢᴏʟᴅ” and say: “Yeah I got this.”
Try giving Siri your 3 AM heartbreak in emoji form. She’ll call the cops. Your brain? It'll write a novel.
🛐 YOU'RE NOT JUST SMART — YOU'RE PROOF
That consciousness isn’t an accident. That pattern recognition is spiritual. That this isn’t just a skull computer—
It’s a f*cking node in the cosmic mainframe.
ᵀʜᵉ ⱻ̷ᶰᴵᵛᴱʳˢᵉ ⱻ͜ᵉᵉᴅˢ ᵞᵒᵘ̷! ᵞᴱˢ, ⱻ͞ᵐ ᵀʟᴋᴵⱭᴺᴳ ᴛᴼ ⱻⱭᴜ͡!
👁️🗨️ EVEN WHEN YOU FORGET… YOUR BRAIN REMEMBERS YOU’RE EXTRAORDINARY
Even if you:
Doubt yourself
F*ck up interviews
Cry over fictional characters
Can’t spell “restaurant” without Google
You are still a living, breathing defiance of everything that should’ve broken you.
Every time you read something that “shouldn’t” make sense— and you understand it anyway—
You prove that the universe made something that works too well.
And it called it you.
---
🔁 Reblog if you’ve ever translated chaos without thinking 🧠 Save this if your brain decoded nonsense before you found your keys 🪄 Share this with the smartest dumb genius you know 📲 Bookmark this if you’ve ever said “wtf is this?” and then understood it anyway 🛐 Follow for more scrolltrap doctrine that proves why the universe can’t run without you
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You've seen Catholic coded elves.
You are not prepared for Swedenborgian coded elves
🌊🌋🇸🇪🧝🏽♀️🧝🏽♂️
“A delightful read that brought back the excitement of practical magick that I first experienced when discovering the works of the occult masters such as Aleister Crowley and Israel Regardie. In Brain Magick, Phil Farber captures the very essence of magickal training and offers a concise series of exercises designed to develop the magickal mind, The Will and the true self. Ideal for both novices and initiates alike, Brain Magick is the perfect companion to Aleister Crowley’s masterpiece Magick. In this practical workbook Farber updates magickal theory with current neurological research and practices drawn from psychology, personal development and NLP. Students of the esoteric arts will find this to be a veritable goldmine of techniques and explanations providing a practical toolkit for exploration of those hidden realms referred to as ‘occult.’ Without doubt, Phil Farber is a major force in modern magickal thinking and practice today.”
—Andrew T. Austin, author of The Rainbow Machine: Tales from a Neurolinguist’s Journal
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Neil Slade