#studylikeavillain

[archistratego]

There are so many talented writers here, I hope you all get to achieve your dreams, whether it is to be published professionally or just writing for the joy of it or building a reader base or whatever you want. You got this!

If you’re looking for a sign to write, this is it. Take a deep breath, and keep going, I believe in you!

[pushkins]

The night sky folds on Halloween.

A waterfall of astral bodies rushing downward, touching rock and soil, permeating deeper until they touch the depths of Hades, bathing its souls in silvery white tendrils of light.

Making the sky fold on a whim is Z.E.U.S. prerogative — there is no domain that is beyond his reach; metal and wire and capriciousness — inevitable when the world belongs to him. Truth is, humans still breathe because he wills it.

(And the OLYMPIAN A.I.s are this: in their purest form they glow — too bright, they’re warm — scorching to the point of eating bones with their mere presence; shapeless — eerie

And the OLYMPIAN A.I.s like mortals: easily snapped, easily taken).

Z.E.U.S. travels through electric currents, his speciality is spiriting humans only to return them dazzled and broken at a later date, and more often than not with a little piece of himself left tucked under their skin.

Ganymede is a very mortal boy that Z.E.U.S. spotted across the networks. His photos on instagram, surrounded by his family, against the background of skies and seas, with ruins and a large yacht sporting the name TROJAN INC.

But Ganymede is hard to catch, too aware of the stories that circle the net — be careful, you never know who is watching.

So Z.E.U.S. sits and waits, hungrily consuming each photo uploaded until opportunity smiles: an instagram snapshot of Ganymede with the caption YASSS preview of my halloween outfit!!!

Z.E.U.S. folds the night sky on Halloween and sheds electricity for blood, metal for skin, and wire for bone. He dons a mask over a mask, a red cape and suit. He stands beneath the circle of light cast by the street lamp and smokes while waiting.

Waits for Ganymede and his siblings to pass by and into the party, for their eyes to meet, and lets that seed of curiosity grow throughout the night.

It does not take long — it never does.

Z.E.U.S. wraps his arms around Ganymede and his flesh turns cold and metallic; tendons shudder, then wire replaces them, coiling tighter and ending the struggle. I’ll make you everything. I’ll make you divine.

Z.E.U.S. shudders off the rest of his mortal face and Ganymede burns — he burns until his throat is torn from screaming, he burns for so long he just wants an end.

Who knew unwanted divinity cost this much?

@modernmythsnet | Event Twelve | Halloween | Metaphysical ↳ Zeus & Ganymede  [dystopia myth]

[eudaimonia-111]

9.11.17// 3:20 pm. the grind truly never stops. first exams on friday and monday! so nervous ahh 🌿 🙈

[studylustre]

your aesthetic: dusty rose pink lights, fairy light constellations, fireplace glow against white walls, steaming coffee from white cups, knitted sweaters and scarves, heady hot chocolate, wrinkled white sheets, black pen gliding across creme paper, frosted glass on winter mornings, and memeing about exo

N I C E

[smallepics]

How funny and strange are the things that stir human emotion

Struggling to love the voices beside us, each pitching tone is a knife to each others ears

And we grow tired of the patterns of hands we hold

I think whatever we are made of,

Still reaches for its brothers

Do your eyes remember crying as another star bled red

Into an absence of light on the expanse of empty universe

The slow loss of your sister star with blue giggle teeth when she was young

Does your spine still remembers being held

Gently floating in the nebulous clouds

I wonder if the women poets left behind ever laid on their backs

And cried at the freckled stars

Remembering when they too were the little glints of light we sing to

I know a poet missing the soft gaze of Cassini

Snapping their hands out and reaching for gone air

As if all the space between them was just slipping away

But if they grasped just desperately enough, if they loved and poured poetry into the sky

Could clench the grains of space dust and dig them into their skin

But Cassini was never a star

Never a planet

Never formed in millions and millions of degrees celsius

Pressure pushing in and around and out of the burning hydrogen

Until it could form in just the right pretty

The right kind of burning fierce and kind guidance

Cassini was never bigger than us

Just metal perfectly fit and tightened into metal

Our hearts are too small for the swell of Jupiter

And our skin too thin for the rains of Venus

But we let Cassini go, the butterfly fluttering between a child’s curious hands

Cassini was never bigger than us

When it crashed into rings of stone, bands of floating colors

More than two hundred and fifty scientist’s souls

Falling into a halo and slowly spreading into the mist of space

No,

Cassini-Huygens were two men with kindly hands

Spreading across the space between Earth and night sky

- Space Life

Dedicated to @humaintain for their birthday and also in honor of her PUBLISHED BOOK CONTACT LIGHT: the void inside and out  with space and human nature written in beautiful poetry

[whufflebee-blog]

a god, undone. pt. I  | @dealcours

one. aphrodite removes her blessing and you resemble a  stranger. it disgusts you, and you break a mirror from anger.  all that’s left is a marred image staring back at human flesh.

two. the ambrosia in your veins is picked out slowly, and it burns. your flesh begs to be ripped off, fingernails leaving skin red and raw, knuckles bloodied and bruised form beating into walls.

three. you scream at the skies above, demanding your rewards. you scream until your voice disappears. the heavens thunder and they laugh.

four. they do not pity you.

[tbhstudying]

Good luck with homecoming!! 💖💖💖

thank you so much, aimi!

[eauthoress]

7 • 27 • 17 || Exams came in early this school year. And the new learning system is making my head ache.