academicstraykittie

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handing out weird PDFs i saved years ago and never read to the trick or treaters

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et tu, boopte?

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**

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Coptic textile, 6th - 10th century.

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when i first adopted my roman senator from the shelter he was so traumatized from being attacked by an angry mob in the forum that he would just curl up in a ball with his toga and whimper all day. but with careful support now he will eat olives from my hand without growling or biting or filibustering. it's amazing to see what love can do for senators<3

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i was the trolley all along :]

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Michael Banning, Light at the Top of the Stairs, 2024, Oil on canvas over panel

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the autism thing of having to learn to preface every question you ask with Holy Shit I'm Just Curious Please Dont Yell At Me because it turns out a lot of questions seem to Mean Something and people will get mad if you ask them

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the hollow men by t.s. eliot

.....................................................

We are the hollow men

    We are the stuffed men

    Leaning together

    Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!

    Our dried voices, when

    We whisper together

    Are quiet and meaningless

    As wind in dry grass

    Or rats' feet over broken glass

    In our dry cellar

   

    Shape without form, shade without colour,

    Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

   

    Those who have crossed

    With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom

    Remember us-if at all-not as lost

    Violent souls, but only

    As the hollow men

    The stuffed men.

   

                              II

    Eyes I dare not meet in dreams

    In death's dream kingdom

    These do not appear:

    There, the eyes are

    Sunlight on a broken column

    There, is a tree swinging

    And voices are

    In the wind's singing

    More distant and more solemn

    Than a fading star.

   

    Let me be no nearer

    In death's dream kingdom

    Let me also wear

    Such deliberate disguises

    Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves

    In a field

    Behaving as the wind behaves

    No nearer-

   

    Not that final meeting

    In the twilight kingdom

   

                    III

    This is the dead land

    This is cactus land

    Here the stone images

    Are raised, here they receive

    The supplication of a dead man's hand

    Under the twinkle of a fading star.

   

    Is it like this

    In death's other kingdom

    Waking alone

    At the hour when we are

    Trembling with tenderness

    Lips that would kiss

    Form prayers to broken stone.

   

                      IV

    The eyes are not here

    There are no eyes here

    In this valley of dying stars

    In this hollow valley

    This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

   

    In this last of meeting places

    We grope together

    And avoid speech

    Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

   

    Sightless, unless

    The eyes reappear

    As the perpetual star

    Multifoliate rose

    Of death's twilight kingdom

    The hope only

    Of empty men.

   

                            V

    Here we go round the prickly pear

    Prickly pear prickly pear

    Here we go round the prickly pear

    At five o'clock in the morning.

   

    Between the idea

    And the reality

    Between the motion

    And the act

    Falls the Shadow

                                    For Thine is the Kingdom

   

    Between the conception

    And the creation

    Between the emotion

    And the response

    Falls the Shadow

                                    Life is very long

   

    Between the desire

    And the spasm

    Between the potency

    And the existence

    Between the essence

    And the descent

    Falls the Shadow

                                    For Thine is the Kingdom

   

    For Thine is

    Life is

    For Thine is the

   

    This is the way the world ends

    This is the way the world ends

    This is the way the world ends

    Not with a bang but a whimper.

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Erecteion

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"i can fix him" ok well i can make him scared of me and hard

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~ Wooden figure of the Anubis-jackal, with long tail.

Cultures/Period: Late Period

Place of origin: Egypt

Medium: Wood

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Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

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peace of mind