#poetic rambling

[crabert-rabert]

and as my body pickles itself in a brine of sweat, germs and sick, producing what resembles a partly decomposed corpse in terms of the unpleasantness of the smell and texture, inedible and intolerable in all ways, i consider the parallel to my brain, which pickles itself in the chemical slimes it secrets, producing, ironically, a personality similarly intolerable and inedible to many but those who have aquired the taste for it.

and my body for once, reflects the rot of my mind, until the dirt and brine is washed away from the exterior.

while my mind may not be able to be scrubbed clean the same way, maybe it can be restored, so that on this rotted carcass of a log, fungi and other death eaters may flourish from the rot and decay.

#im sick #im a little guy who sick #self depreciating #hopeful #poetic rambling #just a lettle coughing sick guy. #who got meloncholic about the nature of sickness #i love fungi

[lowleybones]

i am so in control

as the world crumbles around me

i am in control

the world falls to pieces yet i am here

in control

and if i lost it?

the control

My control.

then i am ash

controlled by another

by the wind

#poem #my poem #blahblahblah #control #brain stuff #poetic rambling

[brownthoughtsrainbowperception]

A love of words in bloom

Bliss upon unspoken runes

A sole engaged in a melodious tune

Did they blink far too soon

Breath escaping upon distant moon

And that is the proper way to swoon

#can i play with my words #i love playing with my words #creative writing #word play #word art #abstract word art #my words #my truth #poetic fun #poetic rambling

[killjoyunicorn123]

The Last of the Firsts

The first Christmas without you was the hardest. An empty seat at the dinner table, presents not bought, not wrapped, not placed under the tree.

The firsts kept coming after that, and they didn’t slow down. Didn’t leave time for the deep, aching feeling in my chest to fade.

2021, the first New Year that you would never see, the first birthday without you, the first Father’s Day, the first anniversary of you being gone.

They say that the firsts are always that hardest, but how can the seconds, thirds or fourths be any easier?

Surely the longer a person is gone, the more you miss them?

What about the all the firsts that are yet to come?

The first step I take as I walk down the aisle, my brother on my arm in your place.

The first time I look at my firstborn and see that he has my eyes, your eyes.

Will I know when all of the firsts have ran out?

Or will there always be moments, important or insignificant, that I wish I could have shared with you.

I can’t wait for the first time that I get to see you again.

#grief #love #life #first #last #dad #daughter #poetic rambling

[sky-scribbles]

When I think about Gale and Mystra, I'm reminded of the Greek myth of the moon goddess who fell in love with a shepherd and asked Zeus to place him in an enchanted sleep, so that he would never change. So he would be beautiful and hers forever.

There are different versions of the myth, but this is the one I knew as a kid - and it always made me so fucking sad. And now I see why, because Selene loves Endymion - and her love takes his life from him. A god could not love Endymion as a mortal loves a mortal; she wants his presence to gaze on, to soak in, his body to hold. Perhaps he's a balm to her immortal existence; perhaps his beauty is an inspiration to her - but she does not want him, not all of him, not really. She doesn't want his sheep flock, the evenings where his fingers burn from the cold. She doesn't want his voice, or the lines and experience he'll gather as he ages. She doesn't want to live a life alongisde his.

Selene would say she loves Endymion, and perhaps, yes, Mystra would say she loved Gale. But how can a god love a mortal in a way that a mortal can recognise as love? You soak up his company, you laugh with him, you value his mind and his talent and his deftness with words. His presence is a spot of bright difference in your endless existence. But will you change with him? Will you be vulnerable with him? Will you look him in the eye, as an equal? Will you stroke his cat and put a blanket over his shoulder when he falls asleep reading, make soup for him when he's sick? Would you love him as a person, not a treasure? You can't.

Gale wanted to be loved with a devotion to match his own. Mystra wanted him to live in the enchanted sleep of being hers, something to smile at and hold but never, never to live beside. And she knew - she must have known - how unequal their desires were. She kept him anyway, until she didn't. Until he woke up.

A god's love ruins mortals.

#myth of endymion my beloved. it's a fucking tragedy. compels me though. #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #(love that 'fuck mystra' was the first tag suggestion when I wrote her name) #pls forgive me for going on weird poetic ramblings on main

[kwillow]

Started this back in February when it was more topical but... I suppose no time is a good time for romance as far as Theo is concerned.

#doing a meme like the old deviantart days #good for the soul #theo #my draws #amaranthine #technically #i could ramble on about some of the choices here but perhaps it'd be best to let it speak for itself #also i think that's supposed to say “physical touch” but i couldn't find a font that matches to correct it #so my neurotic self had to leave the author's typo for the sake of aesthetic coherency #ok one piece of commentary: brain problems + highly repressed upbringing = where i put theo on the kinky slider. it had to be there #you should think less '50 shades' and more '50 year old guys waxing poetic about quicksand scenes in old adventure films' for that one #he's not a quicksand guy. but that's the vibe.

[vonderful-time]

there is something so profoundly tragic about the note we find from the dark urge in act two.

the deep filial piety that the dark urge felt towards their father, how the very act of going even slightly off the path that was meant for them is seen as an ultimate sin. the guilt the dark urge experiences being scribbled and bled onto the pages of a diary that only they and their lord-father would read. a confession, a confession of admiration, of weakness, that the dark urge is so ashamed of that they plead for forgiveness.

they were not made for weakness or mercy. they were definitely not made for love. and yet, here the dark urge was feeling compassion and emotion for another being.

the reassurance that they would still murder enver gortash upon their lord-father’s bloody altar. the genuine terror of being a disappointment if they could not.

and the fact that this very private confessional, poured into yellow parchment with such feverish detail, was discarded and shamed by orin the red as she paraded about her slaughter-kin’s failing.

it is profanely tragic, that the dark urge was not allowed even the illusion of choice. after all, they were made for only one purpose, and that was to destroy the world and then themselves.

in bhaal’s name.

#vonderful rambling #how poetic the fall of a demigod can be #durgetash #durge #the dark urge #enver gortash #orin the red #bg3

[obae-me]

He looks at you like artistry. A contemporary piece he's never seen before. Taking in every detail with calculating eyes. Wondering what intentions the skillful hands of the cosmos had in mind when making you.

He wishes to know your story, the happiness that makes the music of your voice, the experiences settled in the sculpt of your frame, the tragedies brushed into the strokes of your irises.

The complexities of your being astound him, mesmerize him. Every new fact he learns about you adds another stanza to your sonnet.

To him, you are art in its purest form. Not one part can exist without the other. The greatest of symphonies would not be complete without their rests. He adores all of you.

How foolish he was at first, to think you were just a simple creature. Oh, the things he has taken for granted. When did he become so blind? Was it his Pride? Or had he simply been breathing for so long, that the sweet orchestra of life became dull to his ears? How long had it been since he stopped to watch people commune in the streets? Or sat a while to watch the trees sway from his window? Or pondered on the meaning of a wonderful word?

Excitement. How many centuries since he's felt like that? Filled with a rather humiliating child-like giddiness. But it's...invigorating. Everything stands out to him fresh, avant-garde. You remind him that there's still so much for him to discover.

A change in the wind, the turning of a page to a whole new chapter, a swelling crescendo, you are enticing. Every second spent with you leaves him craving more.

All he desires is to be in your presence. To see your colors. To hear your melody. To bask in the opus of your existence. It was only a matter of time before you would manage to become his everything, his obsession, his passion. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

For Lucifer is a connoisseur, and to him, you are nothing less than the crown of luxury.

#just getting into the habit of writing little things on a whim #I miss just smashing words onto a page #and doing more poetic stuff #not focusing exclusively on long projects #or perfection #but that's neither here nor there #thank you for listening to my tag ramble #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc

[arctic-bookclub]

i can’t stop thinking about how well bolas rojas has adapted to the conditions of purgatory. they embrace whatever suffering and lack of materials they have, they cheer for certain disasters (mainly the fog), they further embrace their insanity, laugh at their lack of mental wellbeing, they physically fight each other and die for fun. they invite the poor conditions like they weren’t missing luxuries like op backpacks and castles a few days ago. they truly embody the hellscape they’re trapped in because they were so utterly stomped to the ground from the start that they have embraced the mud as their new home.

so actually to correct my first point of this post, they haven’t adapted to the conditions of purgatory, they were reborn, created and molded from the flames of it.

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #bolas rojas #qsmp bolas #qsmp bolas rojas #qsmp red team #correct me if i’m wrong because i mainly just watch red’s pov but #green and blue could exist without the purgatory they could exist on quesadilla #but red couldn’t #they are so tied to the purgatory that in no other conditions could a team like this be created #i kind of hope they are the cursed team because think about how poetic it’d be that the one team fully adapting to this hellscape #completely molded by it #is the one to win it all? #this post is just me spitting out some of my bolas rojas brainrot #that’s all really #going back to being so sick that i can only be awake during qsmp streams god bless #shey rambles

[its-xiu-ya-time]

i personally think that the more binghe finds out about shen jiu the angrier he would get

liu qingge, the man you constantly hurled death threats at. the man you hated so much for years upon years, the man you constantly fought with. you didn't kill him; you tried to save him. you tried to save him when he was dying.

and yet you didn't hesitate to send an innocent child, your own disciple, to his death?

a young master from a wealthy family sneering at others in disgust and abusing his position of power as he pleases? that makes sense. a poor and hungry child slave who crawled his way up to the position he was now? who was abused and beaten on by a rich young master himself?

and yet you didn't hesitate to beat an innocent child, your own disciple, the same way you were once beaten?

to quote my friend when i was talking about this earlier: "how dare you be a good person. you ruined my life."

they're so fascinating to me (spoken like i'm looking at two lab rats in a cage)

#svsss #bingjiu #luo bingge #shen jiu #scum villain #sam's rambles #i just think there's something poetic about #loving the beast that you made #and loving the beast that made you #i want to study them under a microscope #both of them

[cowchickenbeefpork]

Oswald mostly yearns for Edward while Edward mostly craves for Oswald, both will never be satisfied at the end of the day.

#gotham edward nygma #gotham #gotham 2014 #gotham oswald #oswald cobblepot #edward nygma #nygmobblepot #do ya get me #might write a fanfic about this idk #the depraved ramblings of a madman #edward is a craver on the outside while on the inside he is a yearner while oswald is yearner on the outside but a craver on the inside #but thats less poetic both do yearning and craving for the other but both express it differently #edward does not let himself yearn for oswald so he craves #oswald does not let himself crave for edward so he yearns #the yearning oswald does is a cope for his constant craving #the craving edward is a cope for his constant yearning #natural consequences of ed being npd with bpd traits and oswald being bpd with npd traits

[bora-in-tamriel]

Apples; sweet and sour, red and green; cut to pieces or eaten whole; savor the taste, chew with care, or choke on your own greed.

#something something poetic about apples #I didn't know what to say so a ramble it is #rhymes none but im sure some hidden meaning is there #anyways coil doesnt like apples #varre does #coils fruit of choice to come #not that he is a fruit man to begin with but a few fit his palate #elden ring art #varre x tarnished #white mask varre #tarnished coil

[yourbodymyarchive]

jon sims is simultaneously a christ-like figure and also an eve-like figure and isn't that crazy? jon wanted knowledge and he was willing to hurt himself by biting into the forbidden fruit, but he wanted to share that knowledge—at least, what he considered relevant to share with others—and it hurt everyone else, in so many ways, and he didn't even feel guilty about it. he doesn't understand that sometimes ignorance is okay. obsessed with knowing everything, obssessed with paying for it. he died and was resurrected and he came back wrong. people looked at him like he was everything the universe needed, like he was going to save them and change their world and give them fear and bread. it's too much for one man to take.

he bit into the apple. he thought it would feel better than being in the dark, but now he's just scared. all the time.

it was too late to make the sacrifice play, at the end. to end it all, so that no one would ever find themself in that beautiful garden again. the complexities of being human and wanting more, all the time.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #i wax poetic about religion and tma and religious connections to tma #ramblings of an eye worshipper #can i tag this as bible study #bible study

[findafight]

Claudia Henderson: Dustin's getting a brother!

Steve: oh Woah congratula-

Dustin, slamming papers in front of him: it's you. Sign here.

#dustin henderson #claudia henderson #steve harrington #steve and dustin #dustin and steve #claudia adopts steve. she sees this kid giving her dusty rides and dustin waxing poetic about how cool he is and is like my eldest son :) #stranger things #finda's rambles

[sunflowernyx]

I really love Spender and Padgett as antagonists to Scully.

Because the way they project their own vision of Scully onto her is so completely untrue that it contrasts perfectly with her truth.

They are a specific brand of monsters in the x files, a genre, if you will, that try to enforce patriarchal views onto women, and every time, every time the story presents it as completely ridiculous that they can't see what the truth is, that their denial of it becomes their eventual downfall.

Because they don't view Scully or any other woman as anything other than a vessel for their desire, something inhuman, waiting for them to imprint their world view upon her, taking away her voice, her body autonomy, her truth.

And every time the story proves them wrong. Every time Scully proves them wrong.

Rather than just focusing on how she's a strong woman who can fight back, and has agency, they set episodes like En Ami and Milagro up to show how men are capable of creating an incorrect narrative and believing in it so deeply that when Scully fights back and proves herself a full human being with her own opinions, desires, emotions and strengths that have nothing to do with them... they resort to punishing her with violence.

And always, always they stick with the central theme for Scully's character: that the truth is there, and it's Scully's role to make it plain, it is her power to articulate it.

Characters like Spender and Padgett are perfect antagonists to a character like Scully because they construct a truth and try to project it on her, to enforce it upon her, but she always has the last word.

The truth only ever comes from Scully

#I could wax poetic about how freaking feminist these episodes are #but I don't want to find all the textual evidence #louie rambles #txf #msr #the x files #dana scully #Seriously tho I can't believe no one in this fandom heard Padgett's list of facts and went “holy shit is she just Living At Mulder's Now?!” #I feel like that was the take-away #not that he was right??????????

[cupidskissx]

i was revisiting the instagram tributes that other drivers posted for seb and it got me thinking about what they would post for max when he inevitably retires in 2028. i think lando and daniels would be funny, pierre and alexs too. not sure who would be on the grid by then but maybe liam or yuki is his teammate and they would post something too. but what has me in a chokehold is what charles’ post could be like. would he post a picture from the karting days? would he have won a championship by then and post one of the two of them from the fia gala? what would his caption be?

Hi Anon, quick question, are you trying to induce a mental breakdown? 🫠😘

As much as I love to live in my delusion-bubble and transform every measly crumb into a three course meal, I’m gonna be real here for a second, I can’t see their posts being as heartfelt as we want them to be 💔

However, I’m a Lestappie through and through so here are a few of my scenarios/opinions (delusion included)

If Max retires first

Charles’ post — logical edition:

Charles’ post would likely be some shot of them driving, maybe Silverstone ‘19, or Jeddah ‘22 with a boring caption along the lines of:

Congratulations on a stellar career.

Charles’ post — Lestappen edition:

My heart screams that he’d pick a post-race embrace (hopefully one day we’ll have a proper one):

Fighting you was some of the best fun I’ve ever had.

The track won’t be the same without you there to push the limits and push me wide.

Enjoy this next chapter, you’ve earned the rest.

If Charles retires first

Max’s post — logical edition:

Max is a big softy, okay. HE would be the one to post them in their karting years, because he is the first to remind everyone they grew up racing each other (to combat the nostalgia of course he’d pick a photo from when he won his CIK-FIA World KZ Championship).

Together from the start until the end.

Well done on all your achievements over the years, mate 👍🏻

Max’s post — Lestappen edition:

It has to be the Austria ‘22 Podium, could it be anything else? Even with his rudimentary (and sometimes obliviously innocent) understanding of social media, in my mind even Max is aware how iconic this moment was.

It pays to never give up on a dream.

Congrats on winning your maiden championship and ending your career on a high. You deserve it.

I hate to admit a piece of me might miss seeing #16 in my mirrors, but thanks for not sticking around to wear my #1.

- Your biggest fan

If anyone else has any takes on this, or wants to share some thoughts, I’m all ears ❤️

📸 Credit to all the photographers, without them we’d wither away.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #is this a … masterpost? #retirement thoughts #💭 #the realistic posts were hard because I only want them to wax poetic about each other #hey maybe every version of them would wax poetic #delusion is my middle name #I bet there would be more maxsplaining #Silverstone 2019 #Jeddah 2022 #Austria 2022 #f1 #lestappen rights #Charles x Max #headcanon #Writing and Rambles