The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Is Finding Parallels, Noticing Patterns, Making Connections, Contemplating

SCRIPTURES

In a world of Goewin. daughter of Artos, sister to her brothers. It follows the world beyond her written, personal scriptures, and explores a world for... another brother of her's. the world is cruel, and Athena is loud.

edit : by @to-lamb-to-slaughter. txt : by @to-lamb-to-slaughter / A Coalition of Lions by Elizabeth Wein or @/tooboredforthis / edit : by @to-lamb-to-slaughter. txt : by @to-lamb-to-slaughter / A Coalition of Lions by Elizabeth Wein or @/tooboredforthis / edit : by @to-lamb-to-slaughter . txt : by @to-lamb-to-slaughter / The Sunbird by Elizabeth Wein or @/tooboredforthis

DAUGHTER OF LIFE, KNOW YOUR DEATH :

it was not I who loved, yet it was another world I wished for that did. may this rain and day be forever, for tonight only ends in blood and tears of my lost life and brother.

by @to-lamb-to-slaughter (source of image unknown) / rainer maria rilke, translation by c. f. macintyre, from duino elegies; “the second elegy,” / by @to-lamb-to-slaughter (source of image unknown) / medea by euripides

of wrens and hummingbirds.

quilts accompanied the lady of camlan as she stirred awake from her drowsed state. she arose from her sheets, abandoning her quilt and sitting atop her soft, silken sheets. she had expected the blaring light to awaken her instead of her own fears, but it seemed the world felt unkind for goewin's heart for this new day.

the soft and straightened locks that were her makeshift crown, were disheveled from her thrashing. and her eyes, soft and puffy, a soft color that danced between the lightest of red, to the highest of beet. she noticed her nightgown had untied ribbons of the light and comfortable mesh, and the laces had already been ripped to shreds. just as it had that very day. she stood up, her legs unstable and barely in state to be walked on, the phantom pain on her shoulders as she felt she was held down, only grew worse with each step she took, and the walls seemed closer by each tap on the floor, seemingly wishing to squeeze her like bugs she had on medraut’s desk.

THE HEART

midst the hearth (through the harshest winters and through kinder days, lay's the future of a grief that stays-) set in stone. (the intentions of a cruel world, for it intends to insinuate-) the ripeness of glory.

the world is an exceptionally cruel test by him, the all-gracious. to those, who bear such pain and to pass such test, is one who deserves to accompany his throne and no more. but to those who cannot bear such burden, know there is none that blame you.

In this strange world, one is at peace so the other can bathe in their own suffering, and one will receive award for bearing pain and other punished for enjoying their day. This is the story of a family filled of Lion Hunters, and from the scriptures of the last remaining daughter of Artos.

don’t piss me off. you don’t know who you are messing with.

thierry mugler’s macbeth costumes

as I reread and annotate my own ideas of what was truly occuring in the odyssey, I've realized that odysseus had only been assaulted/co-erced forcefully because the lives of his men were held over his head, which was circe's doing. however, there was no mention of calypso assaulting of forcing odysseus to elope with her, and only that she had kept him on her island. however, this may just be the translations I'm reading and not a analytical problem to be expanded on.

'guys don't call odysseus a cheater' 'guys he was assaulted' 'guys he was imprisoned with his life over his head, what was he supposed to do?' are all valid points, but I can tell these people aren't aware of the fact that odysseus had sex slaves in the original homeric tales. he is a cheater, but that doesn't make him any less of an assault victim either.

PBP. G. Gilfaethwy and Goewin.

I’ve mentioned a few times that I’ve developed my own schedule of ritual and holy days, and that I’ve used the traditional eight sabbats of Neo-Wicca as markers for when to honor the gods of my pantheon.  Beltaine belongs to Gilfaethwy, who is one of the hardest deities for me to understand, while Yule belongs to Goewin.

In the Mabinogion, Gilfaethwy is the brother (sometimes listed as the twin) of Gwydion.  Their exploits kick off all the events of the Fourth Branch; to simplify it, Gilfaethwy lusts after Goewin, an avowed virgin, and Gwydion starts a war so Gilfaethwy has an opportunity to take Goewin for His own.

I’ve seen translations of the myth that state that Gilfaethwy “seduced” Goewin, but the translations that ring more true to me (and this seemed to be corroborated by the small amount of work I’ve done with Them) say that Gilfaethwy raped Goewin, that She had no voice or agency in what happened to Her.  That interpretation of events definitely colors my view both of the Mabinogion and of the gods themselves.  (Disclaimer:  UPG ahoy!)

I consider Gilfaethwy (who, to me, appears as an extremely genderfluid being) as the Primal Force; the id of the gods.  Xhe goes after what Xhe wants, with no thought to consequences or what anyone else thinks or feels about it.  Xir energy is almost destructive in its force; supremely creative but with underpinnings of danger.  It’s the closest to ecstatic creative madness as I’ve ever come.  Xir feast is Beltaine; a time of primal urges and setting aside rational thought to use mindless passion.

Goewin, in contrast, is the Lady of Sorrows.  Of the goddesses in my pantheon, Goewin is the one who understands pain and trials and tears, and She is the one who brings comfort in dark times.  She is the veil that drops down to separate you from the world, and within that veil She gives you the strength to heal your hurts.  She is the lady of Yule; She is the seemingly endless darkness, and She is the spark of light and hope at dawn.

When I say I love pubes I don't mean like little wispy bits of neatly trimmed hair I mean a full fucking thick bush of curly dark pubic hair real curly and wiry that covers everything there's hair on the inner thighs hair down the ass crack hair everywhere

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.