whenever im spooked i play the worst most memey music because i hold the firm belief nothing can kill you if the vibes are wrong. if you have fresh prince going on as loud as possible whatever’s haunting you is gonna be like. aw man. i can’t kill to this. the mood is all wrong now
ghost, crawling out of my television: hssss…blood
me, turning caramelldanssen up to 180 decibels: v̶̨̲̣̣͈̻̯̩̾̊̓́i̥̼̜͎̺̬̭̫̍̉ͮͧb͎͈̮̰̠̬͇͇ͧ̚͜e͎͖͎͚̥̞̊̉ͮ̑ͪ̒ͩ ̵̹͎̬̟̪͛ͬ͌͐ͧͥ̔̆c̀̀̑̓̚҉̩̻͓̰͔h̡̖̻̻̯͐̅̎͋̀ͅe̸̗̝̣̞̬͐̅ͪ̅ͭ͐͜ͅc̶̲̠͈͙̎̿́͑̅ͅk̶ͫͨͩ͐͘҉ͅ
When you learned of the god of war, you thought he’d be tall and muscular and angry. When you were about to meet him, you braced yourself for the worst.
You weren’t quite expecting the short, scrawny, shy kid you ended up getting instead.
Olive skin, black hair, skinny, dirty face with pale lines where tears had sliced through the ash and dust. A white chiton dress and a threadbare shawl draped over her shoulders.
A pair of wings - huge, black vulture wings, far too large on her tiny body - were the only things that suggested she was divine.
The general shifted his weight from foot to foot. Obviously respect had to be given to gods, but… “Er - I’m sorry, I was invoking Ares? The god of war?”
The child god shrunk in on herself, and pulled the shawl over her shoulders. She muttered something. “Sorry?” the general asked.
“Ares is the god of slaughter,” the child god said in a slightly louder voice. “Not war.”
The general looked at the priest. The priest shrugged, clearly lost at sea. “Well,” the general said, “then maybe Athena? Goddess of tactics in war?”
“Tactics,” the child god repeated. “Not war.”
There was a long, ugly silence, as the huge vulture wings shifted with the whisper of brushing feathers. “My name is - was - Iphigenia. Daughter of Agamemnon, king of
Mycenae, commander of the Greeks who stormed the walls of Troy. When my father disgraced Artemis, and the winds of Greece would not blow her battleships to Troy, I was brought to Aulis. For my wedding, I was told. I was-”
She sobbed. Teardrops dribbled off her chin and fell to the temple floor. “I was fourteen. And then I was brought to the highest altar in Aulis, and - and then - and-”
Another sob. “I was fourteen,” she said.
The vulture wings draped over her, and she disappeared under the cloak of black feathers. When they parted, and when the child god looked up at the general, he fell backwards. Those eyes. Eyes he’d seen a thousand times in battle -
“I am the true spirit of war, general,” the child god said. “I am the goddess of bloodshed, of sacrifice, of the slaughter of innocents. I am invoked when men ravage, burn and pillage. I am invoked when mothers cry out, when sons die, when daughters are stolen. I hear it all, general. I have heard it all since the fall of Troy.”
The terrible wings opened up. The child god loomed over the fallen man, twenty, thirty feet tall. Somewhere, the priest was screaming. “How dare you call upon my name.”
Dozens of NYC Subway riders, fresh off a Robyn concert, singing “Dancing On My Own” while waiting for the E train. (Video by Triszh Hermogenes)
I’m reblogging this again because the absolute joy in this video is something I haven’t seen in such a long time that I’d forgotten this aspect of humanity.
anyone else ever daydream for 6 hours straight and then after ur just like nah let’s scrap that and do it all again but slightly to the left
my brain: *out of breath* Was that good?!
Me in a beret, taking a long draft from a cigarette and leaning back in my director’s chair: once again, from the top, this time with feeling
Oh no, that emotionally devastating scene would have been so much more impactful if it had happened earlier. Better go back to the same kernel of daydream I’ve been basing every daydream of the last three weeks on and do it right this time. If I’m not swallowing back tears at Starbucks, I’m gonna have to figure out another way to emotionally gut myself.
Can someone explain what’s happening besides someone being reborn?
In the first comic, which is from the Warrior’s point of view, the Warrior has defeated the Monster, who jeers that there will always be another Monster to fight. The Monster dissolves into mist, leaving another tiny, baby Monster in its place. The Warrior picks up this helpless new baby Monster and carries it away. They will try again and do better this time.
In the second comic, which is from the Monster’s point of view, the Monster says that this has to happen; it can’t come with the Warrior, and there will always be another. It tells the Warrior to use what they have learned to fight. It wants to die knowing that the Warrior has hope for the future. It dissolves into mist, and the exhausted Warrior collapses. The new baby Monster comes and brings the Warrior some water in a leaf. Because we are reading this in the Monster’s voice, we realize that it is a new Monster, but also somehow, magically, the same. We also see that the Monster is not inherently evil. It is only very strong, and inevitable.
The third comic is a dialogue between the Monster and the Warrior. The Warrior is exhausted and horrifically wounded. The Monster is also horribly maimed. They are both dying. The Warrior doesn’t want to fight anymore. The Monster tells them to rest and heal. The Warrior hands over their amulet, and we see the Monster’s paw become a hand just before they both dissolve into mist. It clears, revealing that the Monster has turned into a beautiful humanoid, who says they will take care of the new baby monster the Warrior has turned into. The two have changed roles. The Warrior takes up the former Warrior’s gear and strides into the new year with the new baby Monster riding on their shoulders.
It is a beautiful, ruthless, hopeful metaphor about keeping up the good fight, year after year, even when we are worn down, and how we can still face the new year with hope and light, no matter how painful the last one was, and how it is okay to rest if we can’t fight.
It’s not the new year, but things are so difficult for so many of us right now, and we are so worn down from so many fights on so many fronts, I feel like we could all use this again. Love, rest, fight, love.
