#Circular Infinity

[odo-apologist]

Feeling Normal about this

[omegaphilosophia]

The Philosophy of the Circle

The philosophy of the circle examines the symbolic, metaphysical, and mathematical significance of the circle as a fundamental shape, reflecting ideas about unity, infinity, perfection, and cyclicality. The circle holds deep philosophical meaning in various traditions, from ancient cosmology to modern geometry, and is often associated with wholeness and the eternal.

Key Concepts:

Mathematical Foundation:

Geometric Perfection: The circle is considered a perfect shape in geometry due to its symmetry. Every point on the circumference is equidistant from the center, embodying the concept of equality and balance. Mathematically, it is a key figure in Euclidean geometry and serves as a foundational shape in trigonometry and calculus.

Pi (π): The relationship between the circumference and the diameter of a circle is defined by the constant π, an irrational number. The infinite, non-repeating nature of π has intrigued mathematicians and philosophers, symbolizing the complexity and mystery of the universe.

Symbol of Unity and Wholeness:

Wholeness and Completeness: The circle, having no beginning or end, symbolizes completeness and unity. In many philosophical and religious traditions, the circle is a metaphor for the universe, eternity, and the interconnectedness of all things. It represents an ideal form in which all parts are equally connected to the center, embodying balance and harmony.

The Ouroboros: The ancient symbol of the serpent eating its own tail, the Ouroboros, is often depicted as a circle and represents the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth. It conveys the idea of cyclical time, self-sufficiency, and regeneration.

Metaphysical and Cosmological Interpretations:

Circular Time: Many ancient cultures, such as the Greeks, Hindus, and Native Americans, viewed time as cyclical rather than linear. The circle symbolizes recurring patterns, cycles of nature, and the eternal return. Philosophers like Nietzsche also explored the idea of eternal recurrence, suggesting that time may repeat infinitely in a circular fashion.

Sacred Geometry: In various religious and mystical traditions, the circle is central to sacred geometry, representing the perfection of divine creation. It is used in mandalas, which are circular designs symbolizing the universe, and in architectural forms like domes and labyrinths, which reflect cosmic order.

Philosophical Symbolism:

Infinity and Eternity: Since a circle has no beginning or end, it symbolizes infinity and eternity. Philosophically, it challenges the finite nature of human existence by representing something boundless. In this context, the circle also becomes a symbol of the divine or the absolute, as seen in concepts of God, the universe, and the soul.

Unity of Opposites: The circle can represent the reconciliation of opposites, as seen in the yin-yang symbol, where dualities (e.g., light and dark, male and female) are unified within a circular form. This notion aligns with philosophical concepts like the dialectic, where opposing forces or ideas interact to create a higher synthesis.

The Circle in Ethics and Society:

Social Equality: The circle has been used as a metaphor for equality and fairness in social and ethical philosophy. In a circle, no point is privileged over another, symbolizing egalitarian relationships where everyone is equidistant from the center of power or decision-making.

Circular Economy: In modern economic thought, the concept of a "circular economy" is gaining prominence. This philosophy emphasizes sustainability, where resources are reused and recycled in a closed-loop system, much like the circular flow of energy in nature.

Platonic and Aristotelian Views:

Platonic Forms: Plato viewed geometric shapes, especially circles, as representations of perfect, unchanging forms that exist beyond the material world. In his view, the material world is an imperfect reflection of these ideal forms, and the circle represents the purest kind of form, embodying perfection.

Aristotle’s Cosmology: In Aristotelian philosophy, the heavens were believed to move in perfect circular orbits, reflecting the idea that celestial bodies are part of an unchanging, divine realm. The circle’s eternal, unbroken nature was associated with the divine and the unchanging aspects of the cosmos.

Psychological and Spiritual Dimensions:

Mandala and Inner Wholeness: In Jungian psychology, the circle, often in the form of a mandala, symbolizes the self and the process of individuation—achieving a harmonious balance between the conscious and unconscious mind. The mandala represents inner wholeness, healing, and the integration of the different aspects of the psyche.

Meditation and Focus: Circular shapes are used in meditation practices to promote concentration and mindfulness. The practice of focusing on a circular object, such as a Zen circle (ensō), represents the simplicity, beauty, and wholeness of the present moment.

Challenges to Linear Thought:

Circular Reasoning: In logic and philosophy, circular reasoning is considered a fallacy, where the conclusion of an argument is presupposed in its premises. Despite this, the structure of circular arguments has been explored in fields like hermeneutics, where understanding is seen as a circular process—interpreting the parts in light of the whole and vice versa.

Critique of Progress: Linear progress is often contrasted with circular notions of time and development. Philosophers who critique modern ideas of progress, such as those influenced by environmentalism or postmodernism, may invoke the circle to suggest that development is not always forward-moving but involves cycles of repetition, reflection, and renewal.

The circle is a rich philosophical symbol that encompasses ideas of unity, infinity, balance, and cyclical time. It serves as a bridge between the finite and the infinite, the material and the immaterial, and the individual and the universal. Whether in mathematics, metaphysics, ethics, or psychology, the circle represents completeness, harmony, and the interconnectedness of all things. Its use in both ancient cosmologies and modern systems of thought reflects its enduring power as a symbol of the eternal and the ideal.

[cjjasp]

Revisiting the double circular story arc #writing

The story arc can take several forms. It can be linear, a straight shot from the inciting incident to the conclusion. This kind of story takes our protagonist through a series of events that all lead to one ending, a point well away from where it began. The protagonist has left his roots behind and is transformed into a hero. Another arc takes the protagonist on a journey that can end several…

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock I need you to share something about Gojo. Jjk is getting worse with no hope in the future. Plis just a tiny part is god. 🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Detour.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Mild not SFW implications, Gojo and Geto are Not normal about you, exhibiting possessive behavior. Word count: 1.2k.

-Index-

"—Excuse me, miss!" 

The exclamation barely registers amidst the crowded street's ambiance. Everyone has a destination they're eager to reach, and you're no different. Unlike those native to the area, however, you're more likely to get lost; hence your current conundrum. 

You examine the mess of squiggly lines, blocks, and patterns intended to function as a map. 

Kagurazaka, Kagurazaka... c'mon, I know this one... it starts with the kanji for god or something, right? 

While you scrutinize the map, the same voice from earlier calls out again, this time beside you. You glance around, not wanting to respond if he’s trying to flag down someone else. In doing so, it becomes increasingly obvious that you’re who he’s been trying to grab the attention of. 

From the looks of it, he’s a man in his late thirties, wearing a suit that could use a good ironing. You can’t recall meeting him before. Then again, you’re not privy to everything that happens back on campus. Meetings with influential figures frequently occur without your knowledge. You only ever find out about them later when Satoru loudly voices his critical view on everyone who attended. You are wearing your uniform, it’s recognizable to those in Jujutsu circles. 

You’d rather not stir up a scandal by unintentionally snubbing a Zenin or someone equally important. With this in mind, you politely inquire, “Can I help you?” 

“That uniform… you’re a high schooler, right?” 

You nod, figuring that this confirms your hypothesis. 

“What year?” 

This question makes less sense. Maybe he wants to know your proximity to Suguru, or, far likelier, Satoru. These types always have their own designs for the pride of the Gojo clan. 

“I’m a second-year.” 

“I see, I see,” he begins rummaging through his blazer’s inner pocket. He procures a business card and holds it out. “How about a job? From the looks of it, you’d make a good fit.” 

You blink. 

Are you… allowed to do freelance work? You’ve heard of specific sorcerers being requested for jobs, but that’s always been through the school. Besides, as a Grade Three, you don’t think you can go on unsupervised jobs. Not wanting to seem rude, you reach out to accept the card— 

—Only for it to be intercepted. 

“Sorry, she’s completely booked,” a voice that sounds the furthest thing from apologetic chimes in. 

Gojo Satoru stands to your right, adorned with his circular sunglasses and trademark grin. He rips the card in half without so much as a second thought. You stare at him, incredulous. Questions swarm around your head. When did he get here? How didn’t you notice him until now? Why does his cursed energy have such an unnerving quality to it? 

He bends down and hangs his arm around your shoulder. “You’re somethin’ else. Ignoring Suguru and I’s calls, chatting up strange men in Kabukichō… I swear, we can’t take our eyes off you for a second.” 

“Wh— I’m not chatting anyone up!” You whisper yell. His infinity nullifies enough for you to jab a finger at his chest. “Why can’t you give better directions?! ‘West of the Edo Castle’ doesn’t tell me anything, it just sounds like a TV drama!”

Satoru shrugs. “Should’ve just asked an auxiliary manager to drop you off.” 

“You might treat them like a personal taxi service, but I’d rather not. Taking the train’s fine.” 

The man finally overcomes the shock inflicted by Satoru’s audacity, taking a step forward. “What are you, her boyfriend or something?” 

“Bleh, no!” 

“Future husband.” 

Yours and Satoru’s responses come out simultaneously. 

“In that case—” 

“Excuse me,” A new presence interrupts the increasingly irritated man. Suguru wears a friendly smile which somehow comes across as more menacing than Satoru’s wolfish grin. He places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are aware that it’s a minor you’re trying to recruit, correct?” 

The man flushes at the accusation. “Listen, I dunno what you’re trying to accuse me of—” 

“I’d hate to see you get in trouble for a mistake like that,” Suguru cuts him off again, raising his voice ever so slightly. This attracts the attention of some bystanders. “Who knows what consequences that’d result in, especially for a married man like yourself…” 

Huh. You hadn’t even noticed the gold band on his ring finger. Suguru’s nothing if not perceptive. 

Nearby commuters whisper amongst themselves while eyeing the scene. The man’s gaze flits between a self-satisfied Satoru and an overly polite Suguru, eventually settling on an escape route. Wordlessly, he departs, although you swear you overhear him muttering ‘crazy kids’ and ‘doomed girl,’ along the way. 

“Yo, Suguru. Took you long enough.” 

“Unfortunately, not all of us can teleport.” 

“Your curse did a better job at tailin’ me than you.” 

Ignoring the jab, Suguru dusts his hands off while honing in on you. “You alright? You weren’t answering our calls.” 

“And you’re late,” Satoru whines. He helps himself to searching through your purse, taking your pink Razr hostage. “Huh. Battery’s dead.” 

Suguru appears content. “What’d I tell you?” 

“If she’s blocked me before, the same could happen to you.” 

“I wouldn’t block Suguru.” 

“She wouldn't block me.” 

This time, it’s you and Suguru who speak concurrently. Satoru pouts, putting his hands up like he’s under attack (which he probably believes himself to be). You snatch your phone back without issue, unlike when he last stole it. He unblocked himself and dangled it above your head until you promised you wouldn’t do that again.

“And here I was, about to treat you both to pastries,” Satoru sighs, melodramatic as ever. 

“While we were waiting for you, I noticed creampuffs and macaroons on the menu; which would you recommend?” Suguru inquires, not bothering to acknowledge Satoru’s complaints. 

“That depends on what you want from the experience,” you mimic his decision. “Creampuffs tend to be one flavor, whereas macaroons come in multiple, so the variety’s nice. When I get a variety pack, I always end up disliking one of the flavors and wishing I’d just gotten my favorites instead.” 

Satoru sighs as loud as he can. “Right, right, I’m just a walking wallet. Let’s get going before someone else solicits [First].” 

“Eh?” You turn your head to face Satoru. “‘Solicits?’ As in…?” 

“Se—” 

Suguru slaps a hand over Satoru’s mouth. “What he means to say is that this isn’t the best area for a high school girl to linger.”

“W-Wait, hold on! I thought he was like a… er, how would you say that… sorcerer employer?” 

They both stare at you. 

“You do know what Kabukichō’s famous for, right?” Suguru tentatively asks. 

“Hm? ‘Kabuki’ is a type of traditional theater, isn’t it?” 

“...” 

“...” 

“Let’s just show her what we mean,” Satoru bends down, picking up two halves of the business card he split in half earlier. “It’ll be a good lesson. I’d rather not have to come fetch her in this place again— oh.” 

Suguru inspects what has the power to shut Gojo Satoru up. You watch as his eyes move back and forth, his face shifting while he does so. His lips narrow into a thin line when he pulls back. Curious, you stand on your tiptoes, hoping to catch a glimpse yourself. Thankfully, there’s yomigana above some of the kanji you don’t recognize. This eliminates any possibility of you misreading the card’s contents. 

‘Oh’ indeed, you think. That poor guy…

It’s a business card for the company that oversees AKB48. 

[ko-existing]

I am not here to change your Mind

by Being_is_IT

Q: You always stress dropping investigation of phenomena. if you cannot know what this is, how can you even call it infinity? if you don't know what it is, how can you be sure its actually not a finite universe?

A: Yes, it looks and feels like a finite world. The Mind is okay to assume that way, and that the Mind will find all kinds of proofs to support this idea. Then, what? The Mind is not satisfied, it keeps wondering endlessly. It keeps looking for confirmation. Right now and right here, the Mind is seeing the "realness" just like the observing Mind in a dream was seeing the "realness" of the dream episode. The seer is the effect of the Mind, the seen is also the projection projected by the same effect of the Mind. Do you see a seemingly perfect self-satisfying circular loop spinning? You may say that there is an energetic effect of observing, but there is never an observer and there are never any observed objects either. Yes, you are correct. I don’t know what it is. It does look like a finite universe. I can’t determine what it actually is either. Yes, you’re also correct to say that “infinity” is just a concept. Calling it "infinity" is just a conceptual determination. I can’t determine such a concept named as “infinite” is actually established itself. Yes, nothing is deterministic, even such an idea of “indeterminacy” itself cannot be determined to be valid either. So, every direction you go, you will find traps of circular logic that defies resolution. I am not here to change your Mind.

Q: I just asked a question.

A: It's okay to ask questions. I don't mean to criticize you. I am pointing out that the Mind assumes that it can reach enlightenment by changing the Mind or by improving the Mind or by getting a perfect answer for the Mind, that's not the case at all. Please notice, the question is not actually asked by a "you", but by the functioning of the Mind itself. The "you" you think you possess is not an actual entity, but an imagined entity from the Mind. So, it's not exaggerating to say that the idea for "you" is an interpretation of the Mind. "You" is the same as the Mind. Instead of getting an answer for the question, instead of satisfying the Mind's desire, see if you can discern the absurdity for the question itself. Then, you can discern the absurdity for the logical assumptions projected by the Mind and then transcend the function of the Mind. Please keep asking questions. Each question is an opportunity to see the absurdity for the logic that the Mind thinks is making sense. The so-called "sense" that the Mind makes is actually *non-sense*.

Noticing experience is direct. No thinking, no presumption, no knowledge, no analysis is needed for such noticing. Just like you taste the raw flavor of lemon, without thinking you get to know the unspeakable flavor immediately. You don't need to have any presumption. You allow IT to tell you what it is in non-spoken ways, rather you think or assume what it is.

Yes, you may discern that way like you described. Noticing is even simpler than the way you described. Noticing is noticing experience without labeling it as "Mind" or not "Mind". You don't know what experience is. You don't need to know anything in order to notice, labeling what you don't know as "Mind" or anything else is already too much conceptualization. Conceptualization is speculation. Yes, any knowledge you have, any determination you have, is the interpretation from the Mind.

[zegalba]

Bram Vanderbeke: 'Endless Light' (2014)

This luminous ‘container of the future’ was designed to capture nothing less than infinity. A moveable mirror in translucent acrylic is set inside a thick, circular frame fitted with LED lights, while combined light- and mirror-effects generate continually changing infinite reflections.

[r1-jw-lover]

Official John Wick Major Arcana tarot cards featuring Chapter 4 characters

Art by Julien Rico Jr, in collaboration with Lionsgate.

Sources: nerdsloveart, behance

Image descriptions below the cut:

[Start ID: 22 images featuring characters and locations from the movie "John Wick: Chapter 4" as Major Arcana tarot cards. The drawings are in black and white against a sandy beige background, and has plenty of circle motives. Roman numerals are at the top, their corresponding card title at the bottom, and the movie title "John Wick: Chapter 4" on the bottom left margin.

0: The number zero, or unnumbered, tarot card features Killa Harkan played by Scott Adkins as "The Fool". Killa is holding a 2 of spades between two fingers while giving a smug smile that shows off his set of golden teeth. He wears a ring on his right hand and the other hand is holding a stack of cards. Behind Killa is a minimalistic design resembling a casino token with details such as the diamond and clover symbols, as well as the numbers on the dice. In front of Killa is a table with two piling stacks of casino tokens, a gun, and the shadow of John Wick's head looming over a large portion of the table.

1: The number one tarot card features The Tracker or Mr. Nobody played by Shamier Anderson as "The Magician". Mr. Nobody has a smug expression on his face and is holding his rifle in a way that lets it rest slung over his shoulder. By his side is Mr. Nobody's Belgian Malinois. The backdrop consists of simplistic, grayish graphics of map vectors cropped into several circles of different sizes. There is a white-coloured infinity symbol on top of Mr. Nobody's head.

2: The number two tarot card features Rooney, aka The Ballerina, who first appeared in "John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum", as "The High Priestess". Rooney's back is facing towards us as she's performing a ballet move on a circular stage. Rooney is wearing a white crown and a dress that shows the cross tattoo on her back. In the backdrop, where Rooney's face is looking towards, are curtains with the initials "JW" written on the far ends of the frame.

3: The number three tarot card features Katia played by Natalia Tena as "The Empress". With a cool expression on her face, Katia is leaning forward against a set of railings, giving off a domineering aura. Katia is wearing a metallic necklace and a cross on her neck. Behind Katia is the crest of the Ruska Roma and a line in Russian circling around it.

4: The number four tarot card features The Bowery King played by Laurence Fishburne as "The Emperor". The Bowery King is sitting on a throne, but behind him is a pair of eyes staring menacingly at us. In front of him is a logo design with the same pair of eyes, though rendered smaller and appear less menacing, with an X crossed in between and a horizontal line capping the top of the X. At the Bowery King's feet, a few pigeons are shown in the foreground while the Brooklyn Bridge appear in the background.

5: The number five tarot card features The Elder as "The Hierophant". Behind the Elder is an Islamic floral design which extends into a more geometrical pattern. Standing in the background are two of the Elder's men.

6: The number six tarot card features John and Helen Wick, played by Keanu Reeves and Bridget Moynahan, as "The Lovers". John and Helen are smiling brightly towards each other in front of a New York night cityscape backdrop, with the Empire States building separating them at the centre. Above John and Helen is a silhouette of them pressed against each other about to kiss in front of a bright sun with the Brooklyn bridge in the background.

7: The number seven tarot card features John Wick driving his 1971 Plymouth Barracuda as "The Chariot". There is a bullet mark on the front glass pane of John Wick's car. On top is a closeup of John Wick surrounded by a circle of road markings and bullet marks.

8: The number eight tarot card features Charon played by Lance Reddick as "Strength". On top of Charon's head is the infinity symbol, and behind is a design reminiscent of a timepiece neatly decorated with knives, guns and bullets in a circle. Further behind is a faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin. Filling the bottom of the frame is the New York cityscape backdrop illuminated by the sun.

9: The number nine tarot card features Caine played by Donnie Yen as "The Hermit". Caine wears sunglasses and is holding a cane in his left hand and a pistol in his right. Caine's head is illuminated by a circle of bright light, which is surrounded by a dimmer, slightly bigger circle with Japanese wave patterns and then large protruding rays of black. In the backdrop are two winding trees along with a city landscape of Osaka, but they are overshadowed by Caine's black rays.

10: The number ten tarot card features L’Arc de Triomphe as "The Wheel of Fortune". The location is illustrated in such a way that looks like a clock, with the monument at the centre and twelve roads leading towards it. Surrounding the Arc de Triomphe are the letters from John Wick's name arranged in the exact order of north-west, north-east, south-west, south-east, west, north, east and south directions.

11: The number eleven tarot card features The Harbinger played by Clancy Brown as "Justice". The whole illustration is framed as if the Harbinger is contained inside an hourglass, with a half-body portrait of the Harbinger at the top and a full-body silhouette of him forming at the bottom from the sand flowing downwards. Behind the Harbinger's portrait is the Latin quote, "si vis pacem, para bellum", whereas next to the Harbinger's silhouette is a crescent moon. Along the sides of the hourglass outside are two duel pistols facing opposite directions on each side.

12: The number twelve tarot card features Koji Shimazu played by Hiroyuki Sanada as "The Hanged Man". Except for his feet, Koji is portrayed as an vertically-inverted reflection of himself on a pool of water. Koji is holding a katana and his head is surrounded by a circle of dim light and a brighter, slightly larger circle made of Japanese wave patterns. As seen in the reflection, behind him are cherry blossom trees and the Osaka city landscape.

13: The number thirteen tarot card features John Wick, aka the Baba Yaga, played by Keanu Reeves as "Death". John Wick is holding a pair of nunchucks in his right hand. Behind John Wick is a city landscape of Osaka lighted by the moon while his head is surrounded by a row of skull pictograms and two rows of bullets. There is also an faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin behind John Wick.

14: The number fourteen tarot card features Winston played by Ian McShane as "Temperance". Winston is holding up a wine glass with a capital C labelled on it, and there are multiple swords projecting from his back like wings. Behind Winston is the hotel name "Continental" and numerous halos of various fonts and patterns, along with the cityscape of New York, with the Statue of Liberty and the Empire States building in sight.

15: The number fifteen tarot card features The Marquis, Vincent Bisset de Gramont, played by Bill Skarsgård as "The Devil". Behind the Marquis is his signature emblem with two black knives crossed behind his head. The emblem is surrounded by two rows of knives. In the background is the night cityscape of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in view, illuminated by a moon that is surrounded by a snake or serpent that's chasing its own tail.

16: The number sixteen tarot card features the New York Continental Hotel as "The Tower". The top floors of the Continental Hotel are being set on fire as the small dark silhouette of John Wick and the debris carried along fall from its rooftop.

17: The number seventeen tarot card features Akira played by Rina Sawayama as "The Star". Illuminating behind Akira is a star resembling a six-pointed shuriken with two Japanese stork paintings on its left and right, which is further surrounded by a circle of alternating arrow fletchings and four-pointed shuriken. Akira is holding a bow and arrow and standing tall as the bodies of two men lie dead around her. In the background are the branches of cherry blossom trees and the sun or moon shining behind Akira.

18: The number eighteen tarot card features John Wick's and Mr. Nobody's dogs as "The Moon". The two dogs are staring up at the crescent moon, which is shaped as if John Wick's head is covering portions of the full moon. Surrounding the crescent moon are small stars and a illustration of the cycle of the moon phases. The two dogs are sitting on a road leading into an ambiguous city landscape in the background.

19: The number nineteen tarot card features the Sacré-Coeur as "The Sun". The rays of the sun spread out far and wide as wisps of clouds drifts behind the giant church. A dark silhouette of John Wick can be seen on the top open window of the Sacré-Coeur.

20: The number twenty tarot card features Chidi played by Marko Zaror as "Judgement". Behind Chidi is the emblem of the Marquis with a black knife cutting across behind his head. Below Chidi are the High Table's heavily armoured soldiers who are backdropped by a big splatter of sandy beige.

21: The number twenty-one tarot card features John Wick as "The World". John Wick's back is facing towards us with his head glancing back, showing us his face. Overlayed on top of him is his surname "Wick" with the "I" replaced by a bright silhouette of a walking John Wick. A circle of bullets surrounds John Wick and bullet marks scatter around him as the emblems of the High Table, the Marquis, the Adjudicator, and the Gold Coin fill all four corners of the frame.

./End ID]

[talonabraxas]

Ouroboros

Symbolic representation of coming full circle (cycle)

The Ouroboros is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. The name originates from within Greek language; (oura) meaning "tail" and (boros) meaning "eating", thus "he who eats the tail".

The Ouroboros represents the perpetual cyclic renewal of life and infinity, the concept of eternity and the eternal return, and represents the cycle of life, death and rebirth, leading to immortality, as in the Phoenix.

The current mathematical symbol for infinity - may be derived from a variant on the classic Ouroboros with the snake looped once before eating its own tail, and such depictions of the double loop as a snake eating its own tail are common today in fantasy art and fantasy literature, though other conjectures also exist.

It can also represent the idea of primordial unity related to something existing in or persisting before any beginning with such force or qualities it cannot be extinguished. The ouroboros has been important in religious and mythological symbolism, but has also been frequently used in alchemical illustrations, where it symbolizes the circular nature of the alchemist's opus. It is also often associated with Gnosticism and Hermeticism.

[mcclainwilla]

JJK 271 spoilers under the cut!!

So, with the leaks out and the series (un)officially over, I wanted to offer an alternative (NOT optimistic, but accepting) perspective to how things ended...

...specifically with Gojo.

I am a Gojo lover. I am a tragedy enjoyer. And I believe that both the (implied) return of both Sukuna and Kenjaku and Gojo's shitty posthumous treatment by the rest of the cast boil down to the same themes that have defined Jujutsu Kaisen from the start.

Jujutsu Kaisen has a punitive narrative. When a character fails to honor their goals, retribution is swift and severe. Itadori failing, continuously, to guide people to proper deaths. Nanami failing to keep his juniors safe in Shibuya. Geto failing to follow through on his own ideology. Jujutsu Kaisen also has a circular narrative. Its characters' storylines are defined by the generational curses that haunt jujutsu society. Gojo and Geto were thrown at missions like grenades until Geto finally went off. Ten years later, kids are still being exploited for their talents. Itadori, for all rights and purposes, died in the juvenile detention facility. The Shibuya task force was like, at least 50% high schoolers. Nothing has changed, despite Gojo's dream of fostering strong and capable allies who will overturn the system.

Now, about that. Gojo stated his intentions multiple times throughout the manga. He wanted to break the cycle. But that panel showing Sukuna's finger? Not surprising at all. He failed to break the cycle. Why?

Because without concerted effort, there will be no true change.

That is the point of Jujutsu Kaisen. It always has been. We ended up right where we left off - with the looming threat of Sukuna in the form of a surviving finger - because no one made an active effort to step off the tracks; instead, everyone combined their forces to push back against the train. Sure, the train stopped - Sukuna was exorcized, mostly - but trains have engines, and when jujutsu society grows complacent, the old order will begin to creep back into place.

There's another way of saying this. We ended up right where we left off - with kids as cannon fodder - because Gojo failed to consider that he couldn't dismantle the system from within the system. And the worst part is, he figured it out, right before the end.

Too late, Gojo realized his plan of a peaceful coup would never come to fruition. He realized he would have to take tangible, violent action in order to have even a chance of guaranteeing his students' futures. But because he was too slow to realize this, the hammer dropped, he failed, and died. And now, his kids might get to live to see another day, but they live to see another mission, too. And another Sukuna finger, and another Kenjaku. No one's efforts were focused enough. Like Yuki said, they were treating symptoms, not causes.

What's interesting is that this 'concerted effort' clause can also explain Gojo's apparent insignificance to the surviving cast. After Geto left, he leaned into the role of the Strongest, because there was nothing left for him to be. He took missions. He automated Infinity. He only started teaching so that the next generation wouldn't be lonely - he mentioned nothing of how that revolution would impact himself, presumably because it was of no importance to him. He'd already given up on having the very thing he tried to build for his students.

You can, actually. You can ask a flower to understand you, but you would be insane to do it, because it won't, obviously. So why would you bother?

Gojo never bothered. He let his loss haunt him for the rest of his life and never tried to put it behind him (or if he did, he did a shitty job at it). Instead, he let it motivate him, guide his choices, hollow out his heart. And in his death, he reaped the consequences of refusing to reach out for companionship: by making himself into a weapon, rather than a person, he was used, rather than mourned.

(But even though he knew he would die in the fight against Sukuna, he still wanted Itadori to keep going, to have hopes and dreams! It would be better if the world no longer revolved around 'the Strongest,' because that way, no one would have to be alone! What a nice dream. What a shame he only fought 'til blood at the end - first the higher ups', then his own.)

It's not comfortable to look in from the outside knowing that, after all that sacrifice and loss, nearly nothing was gained. But imo, it's not the thematic reach some say it is.

Jujutsu Kaisen was never about curses. It was about consequences.

[svndaysaweek]

e^(iπ)+1=0 — {Feat. Minnie}

1.3k words

A/N: I've been studying math so hard that I came up with this... I don't know if all readers can understand this, so I recommend googling the inclined terms(which are mathematical ones). Also know that e^(iπ)+1=0 is the most beautiful formula in mathematics,,

p.s: Why is eˣ okay but e^(iπ)+1=0 not? Tumblr mysteries..

Tags: Math(?), Choking, Creampie, Loving Sex

******

Minnie is like the eˣ function to you. The way her consistency fills up your heart—eˣ differentiated is still eˣ—, her always positive character—its domain is always positive number—, her out-of-this-world beauty—e^(iπ)+1=0—, and–

The way her back forms an exponential arc in front of you.

"F-fuck,"

On her knees Minnie is taking your pounding, with her entire body. Her back arcs upward to meet you face to face, as she turns her head back to you and into a blissful kiss.

You draw the sin x graph with your tongue inside her mouth. Up and down, up and down, corresponding to her tongue that draws a cos x graph, intertwined with yours completely—but following the exact same period of 2π.

You push her down to the mattress, and now you can see the hyperbolic curve of her waist. You grab on the narrow valley of it and continue pounding.

What you are doing to Minnie is distorting the perfectness of her body, although it's your way of worshiping it. The circular dark orbs in her elliptical eyes disappear into her head.

You choke her from behind. The amount of air getting in her lungs converges to zero, while the pleasure diverges to infinity.

Her fingers dig into the mattress as you pace up. You feel her walls pulse like sin x. Instant grips and loosenings of her pussy indicate that she is now close. You contribute the last drop of your patience for her orgasm—the maximum, when the derivative of her pleasure hits the X axis.

"I'm cummi–"

Minnie cums with a scream silenced by your grip around her neck. You for a moment regret restraining her voice, but no. You can just make her cum again, again, and again.

You flip her around to face you and resume the race. The race of which finish line you all are aware of obviously.

You kiss her again, this time drawing infinity with your tongue. It of course doesn't mean that it'll last forever, but you feel like it lasts as long as eternity itself. Rather, it would mean the neverending high you two are sharing right now.

Integral. Integrity. You and Minnie in bed together can't be counted as two. Undivided pleasure travels your connected, shared body. No boundaries are found between you and Minnie as you are pulled into a tight hug by her. You can feel how smooth her skin is, how soft her breasts are like it's your body—forget about the breasts, maybe.

Actually, it sounds quite right because it is your body—it's been so long since you lost count how many times you two told each other "You're mine,". Minnie moaning beneath you is yours. Yours to savor, yours to please, yours only to love.

Yes, yours only, and vice versa. You two are bijective functions. Each of your factors matches each of hers, without duplicity.

Again, you're hers only. Minnie is here, taking your cock to define you, to differentiate you, to integrate you. Minnie is moaning underneath your body, to be your proof, to be your solution, to be your answer.

"Are you close, babe?"

You were just about to say that you were, but you are so predictable a problem—Minnie knows the exact formulae to use when dealing with you.

"I am,"

Go ahead, she eyes you. You crook your neck to nibble on her ear and whisper,

"I fucking love you, Minnie,"

The moment you cum inside her, you are sent out of this world. The real world means nothing to you. Imaginary sensations feel more real than the real ones. Like you're feeling the i itself—the imaginary number.

1×1=1. You and Minnie just can't get separated. When it comes to you two, it's not the concept of addition or subtraction. You two love each other so it's 1×1=1. When you two are away from each other, you're still one, because 1÷1=1. Being 2 means you and Minnie are two 1s, which makes you two different individuals—right now, and of course always, you'd disprove that proudly.

You already came about half a minute ago, but you don't pull out. You see Minnie's heaving back and it's perfectly symmetrical—her erector muscles being the perfect axis for it.

It's an even function —f(x)=f(-x)— that you get visual, psychological satisfaction from. That way you could split her perfectly into two halves.

Your hands softly rub on her back. She still is in the middle of recovery, as you can feel her bumping heartbeats on your palm.

"Y-you feel so warm, baby,"

Minnie slightly lifts her limp head from the bed and murmurs with such a low tone. You then pull out and lie down next to her. Turning your body to her side you brush her hair behind her ears. She looks at you and gives you a satisfied, satisfying smile that could literally melt anything, everything.

Minnie's hand comes up to touch your face and–

It hits your still hard dick and she looks at it.

"Wanna go for another round?"

Minnie asks you, sitting up and getting on your thighs. It's a question with only one answer, it's another function that defines you two—a constant function, no matter what she says your answer is yes, undeniably.

Minnie grabs it, strokes it softly, and you feel your lust being recharged. Seems like she doesn't even look for your answer, anyway.

"Holy–"

You're inside her. Right after insertion Minnie starts to ride you out fast. You can only gasp at the feeling of her already-fucked inside, which is what you do every fucking time. Minnie kneeling, each of her knees are next to your both sides as she waves her hip and waist on you.

"Ah, fuck… You can last longer, right?"

She again asks you a question, locking fingers with you. Just like before, your answer is undoubtedly yes. Minnie then brings your hands to her lower waist and leans down forward, completely relying her weight on you. She lets your head into her embrace and whispers into your ear.

"Warm me up again, baby."

Your hands go down to grab on her hips and you begin fucking her upward with pace. As soon as your thrusts start to fuck your previous cum deeper into her womanhood, she moans beautifully into your ear.

Her arms tighten around your head, but the only tightness you can recognize is that of what's around your cock. She nibbles on your ear. Hot breaths tickle your ear, and her teeth on it motivates you to go even faster, rougher, and harsher. That's what loving sex is to her, and of course, to you too.

Your right hand detaches from her ass and gets on the back of her head. Minnie then lifts her head slightly up to fall into a dirty kiss. This time, you review the whole session beforehand.

You are drawing sin x, cos x, and infinity randomly with your tongue. Her back begins to arc exponentially, so you strengthen your hand on her head to keep her body tangent to yours. Your fingers on her ass rubs on her another hole, to make her pleasure diverge to infinity.

And everything you're doing earns her uncontrolled scream of ecstasy, as if she's trying to make an auditory definition of orgasm.

She again closes in to lock lips with you, and soon she cums. On your still-moving cock she cums hard, and in your mouth she lets the orgasmic sound out. It travels through your body fast, reverberates in your skull, sending you over the edge in no time.

You push deep into her for the last time before violently cumming inside her again.

It's explosive, you would term it. Minnie's entire body reacts to every spurt you shoot inside her.

"Holy fuck…"

You let out a sigh of words.

"Baby, that was…"

On top of her lungs she says, only to pause for breathing.

That was awesome, yeah. You know that, because you feel just like her too.

You look into her eyes, and find the excellence itself, the perfect, absolute beauty—e^(iπ)+1=0 .

[meararochand]

There are many symbols in this scene.

Arwen's locket and the serpent symbol. Which I already wrote about here:

https://www.tumblr.com/meararochand/763585443525771264/there-is-an-interesting-similarity-between-arwens

Gate: The gate or door symbolizes the passage between two states, two worlds, the known and the unknown, light and darkness, wealth and poverty. The gate opens to a mystery. But it has dynamic and psychological value; as it not only shows the way, but calls us to cross it. It invites you on a journey to another world... Circle: The circle has several meanings and appears in several cultures. But the circle has common symbolic characteristics: perfection, simplicity, lack of division and distinction. The circle can represent created boundaries; and the circular motion means the perfect, unchangeable, beginning and infinity. Also interesting is the way the circle appears as a symbol in the Celtic world: Cuchulainn carves an inscription in ogam (Old Irish) letters into a wooden circle (made from a bent oak branch) to stop the Irish army that flooded Ulster. The circle is affixed to a pillar, and the inscription admonishes all who read it not to proceed further without accepting the individual struggle. The circle thus represents an insurmountable magical boundary. In a universal way, the circle is a symbol of all heavens (god, the soul). In light of all of this, I believe that Sauron, willy-nilly or not, used very powerful magic when he stabbed Galadriel, which connects the worlds of light and darkness, the visible and the invisible.

This is a gate that Galadriel originally closed, but Sauron reopened with force and magic. Forcing Galadriel to unite them against her will (but parallel to her heart). The circular shape encloses them in a timeless space where they are in unity and which lasts forever.

Sauron used a powerful magic that would forever remain in Galadriel and haunt her forever, with Halbrand in her heart.

[santoschristos]

Loop of Life, Ouroboros He who cannot love can never transform the serpent, and then nothing is changed. --Carl Jung

The Ouroboros is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. The name originates from within Greek language; (oura) meaning "tail" and (boros) meaning "eating", thus "he who eats the tail". The Ouroboros represents the perpetual cyclic renewal of life and infinity, the concept of eternity and the eternal return, and represents the cycle of life, death and rebirth, leading to immortality, as in the Phoenix.

The current mathematical symbol for infinity - may be derived from a variant on the classic Ouroboros with the snake looped once before eating its own tail, and such depictions of the double loop as a snake eating its own tail are common today in fantasy art and fantasy literature, though other conjectures also exist.

It can also represent the idea of primordial unity related to something existing in or persisting before any beginning with such force or qualities it cannot be extinguished. The ouroboros has been important in religious and mythological symbolism, but has also been frequently used in alchemical illustrations, where it symbolizes the circular nature of the alchemist's opus. It is also often associated with Gnosticism and Hermeticism.

[cjjasp]

Writing the Short Story part 1: experimenting with the circular story arc #amwriting

When I plan a story, I divide the outline into 3 acts. In a 2,000-word story, act 1 has 500 words, act 2 has 1,000, and act 3 has 500 more words to wind up the events. No matter the length of any story, if you know the intended word count, you can divide the plot outline that way. Knowing my intended word count helps me create a story, from drabbles to novels. For me, it works in stories with a…

[ch4singchase]

The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: Eurydice Gaumont receives gifts from her father and one of these proves invaluable as her journey intersects with fellow demigods.

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and Injury, violence, grief, ophidiophobia (since the monster in this chapter is a giant snake), mentions of death, mild language

chapter one, chapter two | series masterlist

chapter 02: I Defend A Bunch Of Kids From A Giant Snake

The rhythmic tap of rain against my bus window played a lullaby, coaxing me into a swift slumber.

Abruptly, I was no longer confined to the bus; the rain had transformed into the hushed serenity of a forest. This was no typical ominous woods of a horror story; its allure lay in a distinct kind of beauty.

Drawing near a tree, my fingers traced the rough texture of its trunk, relishing the tactile sensation. The leaves gracefully danced, swaying in a tranquil wind, as if encouraging a shared nap. Smiling up at them, I entertained the whimsical idea that the tree and its surroundings comprehended my thoughts.

A soft flap of wings echoed behind me, and there it was—the moth that helped me understand where I should go earlier.

This was the same moth, its wings a rich black with subtle brown accents, patiently awaiting my presence in a circular dance.

"Hello, buddy," I greeted cautiously, extending my hand to see its reaction, "How's it going?"

Predictably, the moth remained silent. It alighted on my fingertip and then took flight, leading me along a specific path among the trees, unveiling a concealed trail through the forest. Glancing at the shadows that enveloped the moth's chosen route, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it truly wise to follow?

Without dwelling on the question, I pursued the enigmatic guide, allowing instinct to override rational contemplation.

As I ventured deeper into the forest, the canopy above formed a protective shield against the sporadic drizzle that started. The moth continued its dance ahead, weaving through the foliage with an innate knowledge of the path, as if the trees themselves whispered directions to their winged companion.

Moss-covered rocks and the scent of damp earth under foot marked my journey. The woods seemed to respond to my presence, embracing me in a mysterious symphony of rustling leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures. Nature itself had become my guide, and the moth, my silent escort through this living tapestry.

The path curved, revealing a hidden glade bathed in ethereal moonlight. In the center stood a peculiar tree, its silver bark shimmering in the celestial glow. The moth settled on a branch, and as if on cue, the air became charged with an otherworldly energy.

I looked around, confused. The wind gently brazed my cheeks, guiding some leaves with it and revealing what was hiding in the glade until now.

Moths. A bunch of moths. All joining the one guiding me into a beautiful dance.

Perhaps, when I was younger, I would be frightened, but instead, I was just stunned by it. They were gracious and in an infinity of colors, painting the air like a vivid rainbow in the middle of the night. Even some fireflies had heard their excitement and joined the party, lightning the night in a blink of an eye.

“She’s here, she’s here, she’s finally going home!” They all seemed to whisper, even if I couldn’t understand what they meant by it.

Where was here? Were they following me? Were they the ones who sent the moth to help me?

There were too many questions and no answers.

“No, no,” they all repeated to what sounded like a response, “Our friend did.”

“Yeah yeah,” others agreed, circling around me as they did so, “Your father.”

For the first time since I had seen the moth from before, I ventured to speak up.

“My father?” It was just me repeating what they had just said but, still, it had taken me some type of courage to say so, “He’s dead, how is that possible?”

“Dead?” most of them laughed, as if I had told them a joke, “That’s not possible; he is a god.”

What?

“You heard us,” it seemed like I hadn’t only questioned it in my head, “You’re the daughter of a god.”

I stood frozen for a couple of seconds. A god…?

I recalled what the Cyclops had called me, a Half-Blood. Cyclopes, chimeras, half-blood, all of them were characters that my mother had once told me were tales. Stories in Ancient Greece, myths. Nothing more but stories.

But stories don’t simply come to life. They have to have always been there.

If they were talking about gods, they could only be the Greek ones, right? The Olympian ones and so on.

“How...” I tried to ask... Anything, honestly. But I didn’t even know where I could start; in the end, I was talking to moths, what was crazier than that?

“We can’t tell you everything,” some of the moths mumbled.

“Yeah yeah, he had told us just to help you find your way but we couldn’t stop ourselves,” others complained.

“Once we heard you were still alive, we were so excited,” the moths giggled, holding back screams of joy.

“Yeah, even if one of us ended up saying something about the titan, we wanted to risk a chance,” one in a million of their siblings said, and if almost every one of them were speaking at the same time, I heard it.

Every single one, but one brought my curiosity, “Titan?”

It was all I needed to ask before they went into a deep silence.

The moths hushed as my question lingered in the night air. Their whispering dance seemed to still, and the anticipation was palpable. Then, one moth separated itself from the swirling mass and approached me.

It wasn’t the same one I was already familiar with compared to the others, but its wings fluttered with a measured elegance.

“We should not say anything about it,” the moth said, “It’s just a rumor, a cruel one”

“But the prophecy?” one of the others questioned, daring the one that was speaking for them, “The prophecy says…”

Most of them hushed the little one, giving voice to the same one of before, “As I said, it’s just a rumor. Some things are better left unknown, life must unfold naturally..”

“You said about a prophecy,” I tried to reason with it, approaching the moth, “What prophecy?”

The moth shook its little head, “You must go now, Eurydice Gaumont”

“No” I persisted, stomping my feet into the ground.

But it didn’t matter what I wanted, slowly the scenario around me started to go blurry and slowly the sound of rain tapping returned.

I protested, but the scene blurred, and before waking, I heard the words, "In shadows deep, a reaper's kid must tread..."

Then, I was back on the bus again. Alone.

I looked around, trying to look for something. But despite the sleepy sleepers who snored near me, there was nothing new after the dream. It was still dark, the first sign of sun daring to peek out of their hidden spot.

Sighing, I looked at the sky, searching for an answer. At that point, I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer came in the form of a god of the sun trying to mime what I should do next. Or sing—I didn’t know much about Greek gods at that time, but I was almost sure that the god of the sun in the stories also sang.

What was that I had heard? A reaper’s kid, right?

Now, what did that mean?

Sighing once more at the dawn of that day, every time it looked like things were making sense, my life would get twisted.

A sound of wings caught my attention when I looked at the empty seat by my side. The moth from the convenience store and my dream was my company once more. If it had a face, it would look like regret or shame.

It flapped its wings, as if to call my attention again.

“I’m seeing you, stupid,” It flapped its wings one more time, perhaps it didn’t like being called stupid, “You didn’t talk like your siblings at that forest right, I don’t remember hearing you”

And I truly didn't. For some reason, I could recognize each moth that had talked in that clearing, but none of them was the one that had been with me since Springfield.

This time, the moth flapped its wings twice.

"Alright," I scoffed, contemplating the sanity of conversing with a moth. "Enough beating around the bush; what do you want to tell me?"

Rather than flapping, the moth took flight, turning beneath my seat. I didn’t know how to curse, but what I thought was similar to a ‘what the fuck?’

Leaning forward, I peered beneath my seat, expecting to find the bags from the convenience store—snacks, sweets, water, a flashlight, and some change. Yet, unlike what I remembered, there was also a backpack.

Which, by chance, was not mine.

It reminded me of the backpacks I had seen at the store or some of the other people on that bus wearing, but I didn't have enough money to buy even a fanny pack.

Puzzled, I picked up the backpack and examined it. It seemed lost, probably belonging to another passenger. To my surprise, my name was on a sticker affixed to it.

Was it truly mine?

I opened the backpack, looking for what could be inside.

If my expectations were set on receiving a cellphone, all-star shoes, additional snacks, clothing, or perhaps a map, I would find myself in a perpetual state of hope until the arrival of the non-existent date of February 31st. Alas, none of those anticipated items were to be found.

What I found was, in fact, a leather wristband with a snap button closure, adorned with small stones. Accompanying it were a couple of coins, featuring a peculiar carving that deviated from any standard penny. Doubtingly, I reached in, confirming the wristband, coins… Plus a map.

At least that.

Exhaling deeply, I hoped my godly father, wherever he was, could hear me. Was this his gift? A questionable assistance from a man presumed dead.

Truthfully, I anticipated something more beneficial for survival, perhaps a letter explaining his whereabouts and the ongoing events. It was the least he could offer after all these years.

My mother had portrayed him as a soldier with a calm heart, unwilling to return to duty but aware of their need for a reminder of peace. How every end no matter how it began, would meet peace. She would always remind me that he would be the one to go down in a nonviolent way, with his hand laying on his chest, above his heart.

Would. She never said he was. Because he was a god, a greek god.

Knowing I was aware of his divine status, he chose to bestow upon me strange money, a wristband, and a map. Well, the map, at least, seemed somewhat helpful.

I stowed away the bags containing my purchases from Springfield into the backpack, arranging the snacks and supplies meticulously to avoid any mishaps during my travels—whether it involved catching the next bus or evading a new monster.

The coins and map found their place inside the backpack as well. However, before I could tuck away the wristband, curiosity got the better of me. It was a finely crafted leather piece, elegant and delicate.

Examining it closely, I wondered if my father had crafted it himself. The mere thought tightened my heartstrings.

Looking at the inside of the wristband, I frowned when I found something carved into the leather. Something was written into another language.

I turned the wristband and looked at it closely, words were always hard to me so if I wanted to understand what it meant, I would have to take my time.  If I intended to understand its meaning, patience would be crucial. Or so I thought.

As the letters began to weave into each other, a surprising clarity emerged. Instead of becoming a confusing jumble, they started to make sense.

Tenebris.

While it wasn't an exact match to what was written, it was undeniably the meaning it conveyed.

Latin, perhaps?

Gazing at the wristband once more, I opted not to return it to the backpack. Instead, I made the choice to wear it.

Perhaps my father had indeed crafted it. Wearing it became my silent expression of appreciation, a subtle invitation for him to emerge from his hidden shell.

Ultimately, it proved to be a beautiful wristband.

When I looked out the window again, the sun was already rising. We seemed to have arrived in New Haven, recognizable to me from a previous visit. It appeared we were near State St, very close to Yale.

There was a time when I thought I might study there, a distant dream from my younger self. Back then, despite never attending a real school, I held onto the possibility.

Revisiting the city at fourteen, a few years later, doubt crept in.

Knowing what I now knew, it wasn't hard to recognize that the odds were always against me. I never had the chance, not before, and certainly not now.

As soon as the bus stopped and the other passengers started to get off, I did the same. I picked up my backpack and put it on, following the others to the street, deciding to be the last one to get down.

For a moment, I waited a bit before finally getting off, looking inside the bus and waiting for the moth from earlier to appear and follow it. But, it didn't happen.

So, I went my way. If I remembered correctly, there shouldn't be another bus stop so far away, I could eat something on the way while I looked and hope my change would be enough for the next ticket. Or, hope they would accept my dad's weird coins.

As I strolled down the street, I seized the opportunity to approach strangers, concocting a flimsy tale about a new school on Long Island and my ailing parents unable to assist with transportation. However, as they began to provide directions, a sinking feeling crept in.

Clearly, I lacked the funds for the entire journey.

Faced with limited options, I considered potential avenues. One option involved seeking employment on the streets, donning a somber expression and appealing to tourists for financial assistance. Ironically, the more morally questionable choice proved to be the swifter means of acquiring funds.

Anyway, I tried to risk it, at least make it to the bus stop that supposedly was the cheapest one to my journey. Maybe, the driver could take some pity on me and take me to Pennsylvania. If not, I would have start to figure how to gain money for the whole trip, I wouldn’t dare to walk all the way to that fucking camp.

I walked, walked, walked and walked down State St. As I traversed the street, covering only a fraction of the distance, I encountered a Thai Restaurant. The sight of it made my stomach protest loudly; I hadn't eaten in a while, and the prolonged walking intensified my hunger.

However, there was no way I would eat in the middle of the street, under the scrutinizing gaze of strangers. That was out of the question.

Despite mustering all the courage, I hesitated to knock on the closed restaurant's door. Even if a waiter were to appear, what excuse could I possibly give for not wanting to dine outside?

So, I found an alternative. In less than a minute, I seated myself in an alley, extracting a snack from my backpack and indulging in it.

In fact, that was within question.

Ignoring the curious glances of passersby, I continued my impromptu meal. Candies followed, accompanied by sips of water. This brief moment of rest was crucial before resuming my walk under the scorching sun.

I just needed two minutes, or maybe ten… Honestly, a whole thirty minutes were enough for me to restore my energy.

As I rested, I took another look at the wristband I was wearing. The more attention I paid to it, the more I noticed a strange energy emanating from it. It was difficult to explain and even less tangible—an unknown aura surrounding something hidden inside the leather, beyond the engraved letters.

When I opened my mouth to express the feeling, the only thing that came to mind was the night of a day or two ago.

My mother was held in the air by the monster's hand, the only one watching her intensely and impatiently, while all she did instead of fighting was ask me to run. And run was what I did.

Until I heard her scream—a stunning, heart-wrenching scream that froze my feet in place, forcing me to witness her body flying to my side, blood overflowing from her mouth. Her torso seemed broken or twisted enough to inflict severe internal injuries.

Still, she had the strength to ask me to keep running. How could I? How could I run and leave her behind?

I couldn't do that. Instead, I stood beside her, ignoring the disturbing footsteps of the Cyclops approaching.

I held my mother's hands, hoping to somehow absorb her strength. Perhaps I did, for even though I didn't follow her request, it seemed to matter little to her. As if, in the end, she felt no pain.

Tears and sobs dampened my face, but I could swear she thanked me. Ridiculous, considering I should be thanking her for being an incredible mother, sacrificing everything for my safety. If only I had known sooner...

After that, everything was a blur, difficult to understand. Holding her hands, a strange sensation tingled down my spine, adrenaline coursing through my entire body. When I saw my mother attempting to say something but succumbing to exhaustion...

The Cyclops was already beside me, reaching to grab me.

Anything between that moment and the hospital was a haze. Fragments of memories. I recalled his hands trying to lift me off the ground, my palms facing his monstrously large fingers. Almost facing a 5-meter drop but feeling no pain.

When the ambulance arrived and I reached the hospital, attempting to explain what I had understood about the situation at the time, they were most surprised that I hadn't broken my legs or at least sprained an ankle. But I think my exhaustion and grief were enough for them to believe me.

I tightened my lips, holding back tears at the memory. What did my mother's death have to do with my father's gift?

Tenebris—was that really the only clue I had?

Gradually, a shift occurred in the air, and it didn't escape my notice.

Within moments, an unsettling realization dawned – something was amiss. The streets teemed with people running in the opposite direction of my intended path once I felt ready to resume my journey. Fear and confusion etched on their faces left me puzzled about the impending threat.

Swiftly, I rose, stowing away my belongings in my backpack and hoisting it onto my back. Approaching adults warned me of an out-of-control truck menacing pedestrians, urging me to find safety. Some chose the rational path, sprinting toward the police station for genuine assistance.

However, skepticism gnawed at me. It didn't ring true. Something felt off.

My eyes caught sight of the unfolding drama a few streets away, just beyond the dog park on the opposite side of my position.

Initially, I perceived three kids, one notably smaller than the others, sprinting from an unseen threat. The girl in black wielded a makeshift spear, while her companion brandished a golf club. How could such feeble weapons aid their escape from an out-of-control truck? Why weren't they going to a store or going to the sidewalk?

Then, I understood.

At first glance, the runaway vehicle resembled a refrigerated truck, careening down the road with a desperate screech. The driver, concealed behind black-tinted windows, eluded my view from this distance.

However, as I advanced, sidestepping the frantic adults, reality emerged.

It was no truck, but a snake. A giant fucking snake. There was no other way to describe it.

All the sense I was lacking suddenly decided to take control of my actions. My brain, which had previously been unable to muster the courage to stand at the door of a closed restaurant, had now regained enough courage to force my feet to run after that atrocity.

For no logical or plausible reason, from one moment to the next, my rationality  was replaced by stupidity.

The monstrous serpent pursued the kids, including the one almost the same age I was when I met Viola. It seemed absurd to consider intervening, given the potential to continue on my way or capitalize on the disturbance to pilfer from unsuspecting pockets. Yet, I couldn't turn away.

Just as I couldn't flee when my mother's cries pierced the air or when she tried to wrench me from Viola's grasp as the Chimera's stinger pierced her chest in the past.

Perhaps it was stubbornness, authentic courage, or sheer impertinence.

It remained unclear where my resolve originated as the idea of confronting a giant snake pursuing a group of children took hold.

The snake, swift and destructive, both hindered the children and itself. Exploiting that and my familiarity with the streets and their shortcuts, I discerned an opportunity to intervene.

I ran like I had rarely ran before, until the tips of the toes hurt. My sneakers had already gone belly-up to that moment, after all the running I have being doing in the past months.

I walked around the streets, without for a second taking my eyes off the scales of that thing. Entering some alleys and following the murmurs and exclamations of the children as they tried to formulate a plan, even though they were at a disadvantage.

Swallowing hard, I took advantage of the shelter outside some buildings to avoid the fragments of asphalt, cement, poles and benches flying everywhere. Gradually but quickly managing to reach that monster.

But that didn't mean I didn’t continue to run, attempting to maintain a good and safe distance between the giant snake and the peculiar trio.

"Hey, girl!" the older girl from the trio shouted, attempting to grab my attention. "Get out of here, it's not safe!"

She wore dark clothes that complemented her short, black hair and extremely light blue eyes. In addition to the makeup on her face, which was almost gone, having been worn away by time for a long time.

It didn't take long to notice her limp, a testament to an injured foot sustained during the chase – or even before.

I just smiled, hiding behind some trash cans and away from the giant snake's senses, hoping it would continue to pay all its attention to that bunch of kids. Which, to be honest, weren't much younger than me, except for the little girl.

"No, you guys go," I shouted back, "Head into the park and blend in with the crowd there. It'll be hard for them to believe that a truck would actually enter a park."

At least, that's what I thought at the time. Nowadays, I know that mundanes would still believe in the idea of an out-of-control truck wreaking havoc, even within a park.

They didn't follow my advice; instead, they halted their escape.

“Aegis,” the girl from before exclaimed, and her bracelet transformed into an incredible shield. She shielded her friends, positioning the protective barrier in front of them, waiting to see my next move. The boy behind her appeared both confused and scared, alternating his gaze between me and his friend as if awaiting an order.

At this point, I was hoping for one too. I had no idea what to do, and I didn't even have a weapon.

However, the giant snake paid no heed. I could distinctly hear its slithering and the destruction of cars in its path. I refused to let fear or my earlier stupidity show on my face.

Instead, I glanced at my wrist, the leather band my father had given me. For a moment, I wished it were a weapon, similar to the girl's shield bracelet.

Despite having the slightest idea of how to handle a weapon, I hoped for anything that could help me assist those three.

Timing couldn't have been worse for it to resurface, but as I looked at a trash can in front of me, the usual moth landed patiently, as if awaiting something.

Perhaps it shared the girl's curiosity about what I would do.

Then, I remembered—the sound of rain yesterday morning, at the funeral, and even at night on the bus, a hostage to "what ifs" that could have transpired instead of my current reality. I remembered the blood, dark red staining my hands and clothes, and how cold it felt against my skin. I didn't care, holding my mother's hands with all my might.

Just like I tried to hold Viola that day, attempting unsuccessfully to move her body away from the Chimera's sting.

The giant snake drew closer, its slithering growing clearer by the second.

Glancing at my wristband again, the carved words caught my eye.

Out of the corner, I saw the snake's scales and its wild eyes. Emerging from my hiding place, a word escaped my mouth like a battle cry before I fully comprehended my own line of reasoning.

"Tenebris!"

A blinding light filled the air, halting the giant snake and diverting its attention towards me. I closed my eyes, feeling the wristband transform within seconds.

Suddenly, something weighed down in my hand, like the sheath of a sword. Its dark sheath matched my wristband's leather, and its slightly curved blade, made of an uncanny bronze material, felt strangely familiar. Bronze. The sword's blade was made of bronze.

As quickly as the light appeared, it dissipated, replaced by a cloud of darkness covering my ankles and part of the street and alley.

The trio gaped at the spectacle. The older girl struggled to maintain her defensive stance, her injured foot hindering her movements. The younger one's wide and curious eyes betrayed a mix of fear and fascination, while the boy among them clutched his golf club with a determined expression that hinted at a desire to help.

Without giving the serpent a chance to recover from the blinding light from before, I surged forward, the newfound sword in hand. The blade cut through the air with a metallic hum, and I slashed at the serpent's scaly underbelly.

It hissed in pain, recoiling momentarily.

In the end, the wristband was a useful gift. I had to remind myself, one day, to thank my dad.

Seizing the opportunity, I circled the serpent, keeping it off balance, continuing to slash its scaly skin. It tried to knock me down with a movement of its body, but before that could happen, I dodged it, cutting its scales once again. But this time I made a point of sticking my sword in, hoping to hit some organ of his, then pulling the sword out.

The boy with black hair, recognizing an opening, sprinted to the serpent's other side, wielding his golf club like a hero facing a dragon from the tales. His fearless determination served as a distraction, affording me yet another chance to strike.

The girl, despite her injury, bravely stood her ground, using her shield to protect us and the little girl. While, said little girl, spurred by a sudden burst of courage, found a dagger in her pocket and joined the fray.

The serpent, now enraged, lunged at us with deadly precision. The older girl skillfully deflected its strikes with her shield, while the boy continued to harass it from the side. The younger girl and I coordinated our attacks, aiming for vulnerable spots between the scales.

As the battle raged on, I felt a surge of adrenaline, my movements becoming more fluid and instinctive. My sword seemed to respond to my will, enhancing my speed and strength. Each strike resonated with power, and the serpent's resistance weakened.

Finally, with a resounding clash, I drove the sword into the serpent's forehead, or what looked like its forehead. The creature convulsed, its massive form thrashing before collapsing to the ground. The dark cloud dissipated, leaving only the echoes of the intense battle.

Breathing heavily, I turned to face the trio, equally exhausted.

They, too, looked weary, particularly the girl nursing an injured leg. Despite their fatigue, they regarded me with awe, as if I had materialized from the pages of a fantastical tale. Given the circumstances, I couldn't blame them.

I didn't blame them, I really had appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm Thalia," the older girl introduced herself, leaning against a wall as her shield reverted to a bracelet. "That's Annabeth," she pointed to the younger dark-skinned girl, now displaying a hint of shyness.

"And I'm Luke," the boy interjected, assisting his friend to stand while keeping a watchful eye on me, still processing the surreal reality of our shared encounter with the monstrous serpent.

"I'm Eurydice," I replied, glancing at my sword and back at them. "It seems like you needed a little help."

“We did,” Luke agreed, looking at me from head to toe, but keeping his eyes on mine while talking to me, “And I think we still do”

Shifting his attention to his injured friend, he examined her leg, revealing a severe wound beneath her baggy jeans. Thalia attempted to whisper something to Luke, diverting his hands away from the injury.

Feeling lost and searching for a solution, my eyes wandered, and I spotted a parked car on a nearby sidewalk—doors open and windows relatively intact. It seemed like an abandoned vehicle amidst the chaos.

"I can drive," I offered, drawing the trio's attention. "I just need to know where we should go and someone who knows how to start a car without a key."

Luke sighed, helping Thalia walk toward me, followed by Annabeth.

"Lucky for you, I know both," the grin he flashed at me while uttering those words hinted at one unmistakable thing: trouble.

[zuvluguu]

"Life lives on life. This is the sense of the symbol of the Ouroboros, the serpent biting its tail. Everything that lives lives on the death of something else. Your own body will be food for something else. Anyone who denies this, anyone who holds back, is out of order. Death is an act of giving."

~Joseph Campbell

•The Ouroboros or uroborus (/ˌ(j)ʊərəˈbɒrəs, uːˈrɒbərɒs/) is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. Originating in ancient Egyptian iconography, the ouroboros entered western tradition via Greek magical tradition and was adopted as a symbol in Gnosticism and Hermeticismand most notably in alchemy.

The Ouroboros represents the perpetual cyclic renewal of life and infinity, the concept of eternity and the eternal return, and represents the cycle of life, death and rebirth, leading to immortality, as in the Phoenix.

§In Alchemy:

In alchemy, the Ouroboros is a sigil. Swiss psychologist Carl Jung saw the Ouroboros as an archetype and the basic mandala of alchemy. Jung also defined the relationship of the Ouroboros to alchemy:

"The alchemists, who in their own way knew more about the nature of the individuation process than we moderns do, expressed this paradox through the symbol of the Ouroboros, the snake that eats its own tail. The Ouroboros has been said to have a meaning of infinity or wholeness. In the age-old image of the Ouroboros lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process, for it was clear to the more astute alchemists that the prima materia of the art was man himself. The Ouroboros is a dramatic symbol for the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e. of the shadow. This 'feed-back' process is at the same time a symbol of immortality, since it is said of the Ouroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself and gives birth to himself. He symbolizes the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he therefore constitutes the secret of the prima materia which [...] unquestionably stems from man's unconscious."

§ In Antiquity:

The Ouroboros often symbolizes self-reflexivity or cyclicality, especially in the sense of something constantly re-creating itself, the eternal return, and other things such as the phoenix which operate in cycles that begin anew as soon as they end. It can also represent the idea of primordial unity related to something existing in or persisting from the beginning with such force or qualities it cannot be extinguished. While first emerging in Ancient Egypt, the Ouroboros has been important in religious and mythological symbolism, but has also been frequently used in alchemical illustrations, where it symbolizes the circular nature of the alchemist's opus. It is also often associated with Gnosticism, and Hermeticism.

§In Egypt:

The first known appearance of the ouroboros motif is in the Enigmatic Book of the Netherworld, an ancient Egyptian funerary text in KV62, the tomb of Tutankhamun, in the 14th century BC. The text concerns the actions of the god Ra and his union with Osiris in the underworld. In an illustration from this text, two serpents, holding their tails in their mouths, coil around the head and feet of an enormous god, who may represent the unified Ra-Osiris. Both serpents are manifestations of the deity Mehen, who in other funerary texts protects Ra in his underworld journey. The whole divine figure represents the beginning and the end of time.

The ouroboros appears elsewhere in Egyptian sources, where, like many Egyptian serpent deities, it represents the formless disorder that surrounds the orderly world and is involved in that world's periodic renewal. The symbol persisted in Egypt into Roman times, when it frequently appeared on magical talismans, sometimes in combination with other magical emblems. The 4th-century AD Latin commentator Servius was aware of the Egyptian use of the symbol, noting that the image of a snake biting its tail represents the cyclical nature of the year.

§In Greece:

Plato described the Ouroboros as the first living thing a self-eating, circular being—the universe as an immortal, mythologically constructed entity:

"The living being had no need of eyes because there was nothing outside of him to be seen; nor of ears because there was nothing to be heard; and there was no surrounding atmosphere to be breathed; nor would there have been any use of organs by the help of which he might receive his food or get rid of what he had already digested, since there was nothing which went from him or came into him: for there was nothing beside him. Of design he created thus; his own waste providing his own food, and all that he did or suffered taking place in and by himself. For the Creator conceived that a being which was self-sufficient would be far more excellent than one which lacked anything; and, as he had no need to take anything or defend himself against any one, the Creator did not think it necessary to bestow upon him hands: nor had he any need of feet, nor of the whole apparatus of walking; but the movement suited to his spherical form which was designed by him, being of all the seven that which is most appropriate to mind and intelligence; and he was made to move in the same manner and on the same spot, within his own limits revolving in a circle. All the other six motions were taken away from him, and he was made not to partake of their deviations. And as this circular movement required no feet, the universe was created without legs and without feet.

§In Gnosticism:

the ouroboros the serpent biting its tail symbolized eternity and the soul of the world. The Gnostic text Pistis Sophia describes the disc of the sun as a 12-part dragon with his tail in his mouth.

§ In Norse Legend:

In Norse mythology, the ouroboros appears as the serpent Jörmungandr, one of the three children of Loki and Angrboda, which grew so large that it could encircle the world and grasp its tail in its teeth. In the legends of Ragnar Lodbrok, such as Ragnarssona þáttr, the Geatish king Herraud gives a small lindworm as a gift to his daughter Þóra Town-Hart after which it grows into a large serpent which encircles the girl's bower and bites itself in the tail. The serpent is slain by Ragnar Lodbrok who marries Þóra. Ragnar later has a son with another woman named Kráka and this son is born with the image of a white snake in one eye. This snake encircled the iris and bit itself in the tail, and the son was named Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye.

The famous Ouroboros drawing from the early alchemical text The Chrysopoeia of Cleopatra dating to 2nd century Alexandria encloses the words hen to pan, "one is the all". Its black and white halves represent the Gnostic duality of existence. As such, the Ouroboros could be interpreted as the Western equivalent of the Taoist Yin-Yang symbol.

The Chrysopoeia Ouroboros of Cleopatra the Alchemist is one of the oldest images of the Ouroboros to be linked with the legendary opus of the Alchemists, the Philosopher’s Stone.

As a symbol of the eternal unity of all things, the cycle of birth and death from which the alchemist sought release and liberation, it was familiar to the alchemist/physician Sir Thomas Browne. In his A Letter to a Friend, a medical treatise full of case-histories and witty speculations upon the human condition, he wrote of it:

"...that the first day should make the last, that the Tail of the Snake should return into its Mouth precisely at that time, and they should wind up upon the day of their Nativity, is indeed a remarkable Coincidence,"

§In Kundalini Yoga:

Ouroboros symbolism has been used to describe Kundalini energy. According to the second century Yoga Kundalini Upanishad, "The divine power, Kundalini, shines like the stem of a young lotus; like a snake, coiled round upon herself she holds her tail in her mouth and lies resting half asleep as the base of the body" (1.82). Another interpretation is that Kundalini equates to the entwined serpents of the caduceus of the Greek god Hermes, the entwined serpents representing divine balance in the west or, esoterically, human DNA.

§In South American lowlands

It is a common belief among indigenous people of the tropical lowlands of South America that waters at the edge of the world-disc are encircled by a snake, often an anaconda, biting its own tail.

[latisbian]

Autistic Latias icons for @smilepilled! Please like or reblog + give credit if using these.

[Photo ID: Nine circular pride icons featuring Latias and the autistic flag. The trans flag has seven equally sized horizontal stripes with the following colors from top to bottom: dark slate gray, medium turquoise, pale canary yellow, white, pale canary yellow, medium turquoise, and dark slate gray. In the center of the flag there is a red infinity symbol. End ID.]