"Like mists in the midst of time."
The beginning of every disaster is often ascribed to the incident that made it. But there are no disasters in the world, only a train of unfortunate coincidences that had not yet been recognized as an unincident. It was the same as well, with the beginning of the long night. Before the long night, there had already been signs, posts, warnings of the long night. The sands of the west carried with her a mirage of God, but were they ignorant? Was the long night something that could have been prevented? They could have carried torches, they could have prepared for the darkness. But what could have, what had been, what world that one could have grasped, what they once dreamed, it was beyond them now. It was too late. It was never dark in the midst of darkness, they were the mother of that unseen darkness. And when the darkness consumed them, they remained in darkness.
"Buried, but not forgotten."
The long night did not begin when hell was unraveled, rather, it began a long time ago, when the sun still shone and the seas were still blue, it began not between the rivers, not upon mountains, but above the seas, in a time and place when there was yet to be a greater power on the continent, far before it, far from it, it began in a sleeping paradise hidden by its timeless peace.
Once, I heard, that in their peak, they once carried the people of all places to everywhere. They sailed on windeaters, living galleons of its time, and drank on the juice of their bright sweet-sour lime. Their food was brown and fried with fat, their homes were roofed and filled with carefully made rattan mats. They carried stringed instruments to tell the time, they sang in the evening to please the sun. They carved ivory, made them whistle, and they bent metals and made them chime.
Some others say that they made trades with even the little people of the far-far east. Some say, they even circled infinity, in their adventurousness, found the place where the sun set, long before Dhul Qarnayn even was. They said, that only these seaborne people knew what it was like, to witness the beginning of the day, to witness the beginning of night. "The seas bless them!" or so they were said to be, "A life of easiness," or so some believe.
"Whoever knows, knows with me, that there is no life in living, nor is there death in its dusk. What remains will solely remain. We
Unlike the other nations of its time, the seafaring nations were weak in war. Many were fierce and brave warriors, but not much beyond it. It might be due to the constraints of being separated by the seas, or the humid and hot nature of their climate bringing expedition expenses to an expensive high, that the wars that they waged against each other were small in scale, whereas the continent would easily be able to send out a hundred thousand men, the islands would only have wars involving a few hundred select warriors. Wars were not worth the effort, and the science behind these wars did not develop. But this weakness and relative peace came with a price, the archipelago was home to a variety of unique and flavorful spices, and unlike the mercury that filled the flasks of the alchemists, or the iron that were could be reforged from every piece of broken steel, these spices were consumables, they spoiled and remained priceless. It was not long before the islanders were destroyed by outsiders, and after the first outsiders fell, the continent took hold of them. Centuries passed in bondage, centuries passed into freedom, and back into bondage, and before long they developed their own acuity. In a world where they were weak, one had to become opportunists.
There were many kingdoms that gained their independence during the reign of the Empire, but many, they said, were secretly vassals. The Empire, long knowing that direct rule would not favor their resources, elected to tie do
looks like this year it will really start picking up.
it doesn't have to follow. just my sentiment.
Not trying to say you're under an obligation to make it follow. Was just curious why, or what about the situation, you thought it would be amazing. Sorry if I offended.
it is alright no offense taken, ^^
oh wait you mean why it is amazing? well, i don't really have a choice but to be in amazement because seeing it first-hand would be amazing. its just like with anything big and grand, it would be something to witness! what path the world will take, what road that heaven had carved, inevitably everything here will change, and many new undercurrents will bloom and emerge, as one era moved into the other in catastrophe, everything crumbled and it undermined the faith of the people and instilled paranoia across the world! though it was not always apparently good, all shall be well.
this paranoia coming from the gradual culmination of multiple crises had polarized into two very distinct poliitical currents. you can even see them starting today, and the last century. the first was the more reactionary types, a return to some kind of idealized past, as if their failed ideas haven't already proved themselves failed enough, these people doubled-down. the first era of the crises was filled with these reactionaries. governments, militias, juntas made from the idealized version of authoritarianisms made a big come back, with the aesthetics of soviets, nazisms, and other various forms of immense jingoisms, as well as religious fundamentalisms, moralistic absolutisms, a mix of all even. it didn't matter if it was incoherent, as it was their cry for help, this became the first and dominant current. of course, it inevitably f
Based and well posted.
Bring on the loving and terrifying experiments. I look forward to the beauty and renewal they will bring.
Have you ever written a time-capsule for yourself? In a year, in a decade, I wonder what I had to say to myself ten years ago. Certainly, I would have been naive, I would be naive again to myself in ten years. Naivety is a symptom of our condition, isn't it? Or perhaps it is the gift of our predicament. We forget all important lessons in every generation, but we also forget every wound and tragedy inflicted upon us.
I know many things now, I know many things today. But I know so many thing, things I didn't know yesterday, things I couldn't have known with a simple google look up or a gaze. I must be naive to the me who lives in the future. Or maybe I might have not changed at all! Though I doubt that would be the case. I hope that you are proud of me and my work. I hope that when you look back at me, you will say "Thank you for everything." I hope you will be happy. I hope you will not see bad things. I hope you will be okay. I wish you the best. Because we all deserve the best. Because you deserve the best.
I feel cold.
I think I'll tell myself in the future,
that it is difficult now, things are difficult now. and there are many problems now, but it will be okay. i am strong after all. if i cant deal with it ill put it far away. i want to tell her that whatever your decision is that you will be in the future, whatever you choose to do, i'll be beside you. i'll support you. because i'm right. i was right. i was so right. i was wrong on so many things. but i
This is a really beautiful time capsule op. any future self would be lucky to receive it. I know I found it quite encouraging.
I've never written anything to my future self, but I did make a time capsule for myself in grade school. I remember I put a silver painted Lego brick into it thinking it would be worth something in the future which was pretty naive of me. I cant remember anything else about it though, so I may have never opened it and lost track of it entirely. But thinking back on how silly I was that I would place something like that inside of it did make me smile.
I write a letter to myself when I finish a journal, and I read the previous journal's letter as well, so it's like I'm having a correspondence with myself over time. When I look back over them, it seems I'm so angry, so hurt, so frustrated, but so optimistic. It seems like I come back again and again to this harsh perspective; I wonder why?
In a way, all of my writing, sketchbooks, journals, are time capsules for myself. It's all passion and grappling with indescribable emotions in them, and they radiate with so much heat I have to keep them in a box. I want to feel a sad, crappy nostalgia for myself (as if those times are dead and gone and the world is drained of color and I shall be over-cast for the remainder of my life). Why?
If this message is a time capsule for myself (and it is), I hope you remember how completely baffling this time in your life was. Every day is a complete shock. It seems like I am going nowhere -- months pass and nothing has changed and it's all different. Everything appears hard, solid, insurmountable, and then it's dissolved and something else is there. Usually the new surface is even less tractable than the last :^) even so it is all very exciting. All of these irritations are fresh, new; I've never felt anything like it. Learning what a 'real' problem is can be very thrilling. Hope it isn't all too vague for you, but I don't want to dox myself(you).
boxxy is still queen
get the females in
gay magnet activete
anon (me (you)) with anon (you (me))