Revenge Makes The Nights Longer, But Knives Make Them Shorter.

Me and the boys going to sea when we grow hazy about the eyes

Dreams like stars in the night

the commodification of friendship is the most annoying thing to come out of the internet in ages. like actually i love to break this to you but you're supposed to help your friends move even if it's hard work. or stay up with them when they're sad even if you're gonna lose sleep. you're supposed to listen to their fears and sorrows even if it means your own mind takes on a little bit of that weight. that's how you know that you care. they will drive you to the airport and then you will make them soup when they're sick. you're supposed to make small sacrifices for them and they are supposed to do that for you. and there's actually gonna be rough patches for both of you where the balance will be uneven and you will still be friends and it will not be unhealthy and they will not be abusive. life is not meant to be an endless prioritization of our own comfort if it was we would literally never get anywhere ever. jesus.

oops! it seems i tripped and dropped several million free books, papers, and other resources

https://annas-archive.org

https://sci-hub.se

https://z-lib.is

https://libgen.is

https://libgen.rs

https://www.pdfdrive.com

https://library.memoryoftheworld.org

https://monoskop.org/Monoskop

https://libcom.org

https://libretexts.org

http://classics.mit.edu

https://librivox.org

https://standardebooks.org

https://www.gutenberg.org

https://core.ac.uk

fuck it

Google Docs

Tumblr Writes Goncharov

GONCHAROV by Martin Scorsese NAPLES - SCENE 1 It is raining. A clock chimes. KATYA (tired) We don’t have time.

heres a google doc editable by anyone. if it catches on, we can do this twitch plays pokemon style. lets go

Witchcraft Types: Cosmic Witch

A Pomegranate For Sekhmet (Poem)

(Aka: A Devotional Act)

Bite and rip and tear, stain my lips and hands and hair, burst and bleed inside my bite, rubies torn from fleshy white. The energy a heartbeat in my hands, a feat of violence on an effigy to hold my hate and envy as I Rage, Rage, Rage. A heart--at least, a substitute-- pulses weak as I consume. Plucked, like I have claws, or a swathe gone to my jaws: the seeds sting my tongue. I have no mercy. I'm not done, I Rage, Rage, Rage, Until my hands drip with the slaughter, and my chin is crimson-covered, my counter strewn with carnage: Until I sate the rage.

If Dracula Daily is reading the travel blog of our good friend Jonathan, Voyage of the Nautilus is reading the diary of a 40 year old man writing about his crush (and the cool field trips his crush takes him on) in pink glitter gel pen while kicking his feet

According to the CIA was when someone gets to 33 (33rd vertebrae or Golgotha) it creates a superimposed image of the spirit, the body, and all of the components therefore since Kundalini is a temporal paradox, they die and live through Christ and have the old neural network freely moving in the vessel. This old mapping of the first vessel is the Holy Ghost. The second time one gets to 33 by the number 666, it decimates the first image and keeps the second. Therefore God in the Flesh and something greater than man is in control. 777 is when bio lightning or the lightning flash of creation grants Christ to the heart of the initiate who completed the great work. It spirals down in the months that proceed after the lightning flash. The number 666 is the serpent of wisdom climbing back to the highest crown.

I keep thinking about that moment where Lanfear and Ishamael recognize that the other is going to betray their goals and they just.. sit together for a minute. Ishy puts his head on Lanfear's shoulder, because even though shit is going to hit the fan soon, they love and respect each other too much to try to stop them, and just because they have different ideas doesn't mean they can't get comfort from each other. It goddamn near brings me to tears every time