#thenameoftheworld

[astralcook]

@thenameoftheworld

"...we're running a little low on ingredients. We have plenty, but the choice is kind of limited... I feel bad making 'insert meat here' fried rice for a week straight... any ideas, Mr. Yang?"

[swcllcwscng]

“Oof!”

Yanqing didn't realize where he was going as he was running so fast that he accidently bumped into someone in all the excitement, he fell back before getting back up and bowing to the one he ran into.

"Ah! So sorry there Mr Yang! I didn't mean to run into you like that, are you alright?"

[astralcook]

@thenameoftheworld sent a meme:

♬

"Baked potato, baked potato, butter on top!" It had been a while since Tomiko felt self-conscious in the kitchen of the Astral Express, and at this point, she openly sang to herself while she worked, if she wasn't watching something to keep herself occupied. It was only when she turned and saw she wasn't alone that she jumped in surprise.

"Ah! M-mr. Yang, sorry," she said with a nervous laugh. "...you weren't listening to me, were you?"

[burmashame-blog-blog]

...an atmosphere thickened by hundreds of blended voices -how many? As the hymn swayed around me like wheat in a wind I found myself counting the house. Fourteen rows, about a dozen folks on each side of the aisle: nearly three hundred people, all singing beautifully. I wondered what it must sound like out in the empty green fields under the cloudless blue sky, how heartrendingly small even such a crowd of voices must sound rising up into the infinite indifference of outer space. I felt lonely for us all, and abruptly I knew there was no God. I didn't think often about that which people called God, but for some time now I'd certainly hated it, this killer, this perpetrator, in whose blank silver eyes nobody was too insignificant, too unremarkable, too innocent and small to be overlooked in the parceling out of tragedy. I'd felt this all-powerful thing as a darkness and weight. Now it had vanished. A tight winding of chains had burst. Someone had unstuck my eyes. A huge ringing in my head had stopped. This is what the grand and lovely multitude of singers did to me. I'm one of those who believes he can carry a tune, and so I sang, too, and nobody stopped me. Until just past six, for exactly an hour by my watch, we praised the empty universe. I felt our hearts going up and up into an endless interval with nothing to get in the way. All my happy liberated soul came out my throat." "All of this while I felt lifted by a strange new medium, a strange element- I now tell you that I was newly buoyant in a brighter life. In the midst of a hymn, God had disappeared. It was like waking from a nightmare in which I'd been paralyzed. Like discovering that gravity itself had been only a bad dream" -Denis Johnson, Name of the World

A broken man who's lost his daughter and wife at once, 4 years before in a horrible car crash. This is a description of his beautiful, freeing experience of a transcendent loss of faith. Now he is able to love again, and his feelings of persecution and the unfairness of the creator have been instantly shed, so miraculous and pristine is his complete awareness of the comforting knowledge of the void of all existence. I would love to have lost my faith in such poetic fashion.