Semi-Daily Scribbles
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Category: Magic
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Bran? Bran trippin'. Mysticism. Magic. Time is a wheel and we've been here/done this before. The thread that tells of the Children of the Forest and the First Men is more interesting than the stories we've been told so far. Brandon's journey speaks to me, and it's my favorite riff throughout ASoIaF. The Old Gods…
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Call it diligence, call it indulgence. There's just no other way to tame the ticking clock on the wall but to challenge Time's very existence. Ask a passing minute what its purpose is. It'll say: "To keep you in line." But it won't offer any personal information, like how it's stretchy and absorbent and doesn't…
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controlled cowardicea maligned blank stone says sofate rocks me to sleep
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cool weather makes a blue friday better. pull on some spirit. wear ya hair big. this rowdy crowd of 1 looks like a mix of medusa and rudolph. optical illusions for the win.
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it's ok if the songwriting suffersthe poetry stinkssnapshots of flowersboring/blurry/bathed in shitty lightit's all rightthe big red death moonand a pox on your lipsbrings big big changeand change is magicdisguised as one's biggest fear
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What if real life is what happens after 0s and 1s are planted in cloudy, fertile soil? Soil that is weightless, tasteless, clean? Your body is merely a delivery system for sweet precious data. Your blood is weak tea. Your content is meat and veg and apple pie à la mode. Eat up, World! You…
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What you are meant to have will show up on your porch eventually. It may be festively beribboned. It may sit at the bottom of a grease-stained Wendy's sack. "It" is the opportunity you work on in the quiet moments of a busy day. Or, in spurts of activity that come with the full moon.…
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But why is it comfortable to be numb? No one likes to think of herself as a dolt. You need to trust your senses when top secret messages fall from the sky. How else are we supposed to figure out the meaning of life? Don't you want to know? Do you find any of this…
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Just when I say I'll get a new lens to look through (in the hopes of seeing something new) a bird (a big one with a 6-foot wingspan) swoops out of nowhere (o.k. – swoops down from the snag I walk by every a.m.) and squawks in my face: "It's like this, little chicken;…
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A one-way fandomThe passive act of dreamspeakVicarious Me Injurious You Reflections make safe idolsA warped and torn faith
Semi-Daily Scribbles 