I am the wind, I am the sea,
Every idle belief, every grief
And I am the dessert sands, that moves like the serpent
And I am the river’s flow and the arc of Orion’s bow
And I am the howling scream, the nightmare and the waking dream
And I speak the hallowed and accursed word
I am life I am death, the ageless prayer unheard
I am the truth, I am lies, the dark and the light
The twisting of winged serpents, and of madness
The holy one and the betrayer, the birth and murder of love
And I am the paradox, all that you perceive, everthing all at once
And they call him Abraxas, to see him means blindness, to worship him is death
To know him brings sickness, to fear him wisdom,
Not to resist brings liberation
And call as you might I shall not listen
For I am nothing, I am all I am indifferent
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What a beautiful song ❤
*Wear Burzum merch to show political affiliation in public*
me
Chilling at my best friends house. The baby splashing happily in the tub with mommy’s help, dad making us some pancakes in the kitchen. This is as normal as my life gets.
White people CANNOT DIE. Death is loss of life + prejudice ÷ √oppression × institutionalised power ÷ racism. White people can experience LOSS OF LIFE, but not death.
Puzzle Box of Yogg-Saron Starters
- “At the bottom of the ocean even light must die.”
- “The silent, sleeping, staring houses in the backwoods always dream. It would be merciful to tear them down.“
- “There is no sharp distinction between the real and the unreal.”
- “Even death may die.“
- “There is a little lamb lost in dark woods.”
- “All places, all things have souls. All souls can be devoured.“
- “What can change the nature of a man?”
- “The stars sweep chill currents that make men shiver in the dark.“
- “You will all be alone in the end.”
- “Do you dream while you sleep or is it an escape from the horrors of reality?“
- “Look around. They will all betray you. Flee screaming into the black forest.”
- “In the land of Ny'alotha there is only sleep.“
- “In the sleeping city of Ny'alotha walk only mad things.”
- “Ny'alotha is a city of old, terrible, unnumbered crimes.”
- “Y'knath k'th'rygg k'yi mrr'ungha gr'mula.“
- “The void sucks at your soul. It is content to feast slowly.”
- “The drowned god’s heart is black ice.”
- “It is standing right behind you. Do not move. Do not breathe.“
- “Have you had the dream again? A black goat with seven eyes that watches from the outside.”
- “In the sunken city, he lays dreaming.“
- “Open me! Open me! Open me! Then only will you know peace.”
- “You resist. You cling to your life as if it actually matters. You will learn.“
- “The tortured spirits of your ancestors cling to you, screaming in silence. Apparently they are quite numerous.”
- “The fish know all the secrets. They know the cold. They know the dark.“
- “The giant rook watches from the dead trees. Nothing breathes beneath his shadow.”
- “Beneath the shadow of the darkened spire, there is no light, no mercy, only void, and the chaos within.”
Many have died; you also will die. The drum of death is being beaten. The world has fallen in love with a dream. Only sayings of the wise will remain.
“The possession of a good rifle, as well as the skill to use it well, truly makes a man the monarch of all he surveys, it realizes the ancient dream of the Jovian thunderbolt, and as such it is the embodiment of personal power.”
— Jeff Cooper, The Art of the Rifle
(via southronnationalist)
White people CANNOT DIE. Death is loss of life + prejudice ÷ √oppression × institutionalised power ÷ racism. White people can experience LOSS OF LIFE, but not death.
Stop thinking your way through life, always trying to work it out before living it. Life is to be lived, not analyzed to death. Feel.
Jeff Foster (via lazyyogi)
The possession of a good rifle, as well as the skill to use it well, truly makes a man the monarch of all he surveys, it realizes the ancient dream of the Jovian thunderbolt, and as such it is the embodiment of personal power.
Jeff Cooper, The Art of the Rifle
(via southronnationalist)
(via southronnationalist)