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libidomechanica · 1 month ago

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At a loved, a source

A limerick sequence

The boy’s eyes, face, why comfort from his hearts entangled. The edifice to Jove’s victors are not for the figures dear. By the spray into. And replied, let Heav’n.

And, gazing on them, for some effect; but the boy bore him, for some evening, calm with his seate have I forbear, without marble, we’ll measures: I was spider’s amen.

I have but go my waking memory, and on to bloat and earth, and about their torturing: truth; beareth but in the years: which I breath? Nature suffice to light.

In iustice but, nor be my barren beam ends. Wound, from the outlanders rose friendly bring the heart. Shoulder happier than thine eyes, at will live—such a while upon.

Love approaches him too; love, who had hard as he great lords in the bards, in woe! Without then day and now, the last fain around giddy Endymion. You must return!

Only glean’d at his rage of rest, the fold? They are love: quest. From which the quickly ground, thought a proper boxes to go, and fertile, a wizard ensnaring; she wept.

Jot, holland, armed were, as if an ill- gotten. Than such as to war; therefore the more paine. My husband, feelings, or something why— an over met before untouched it!

Devoid of God who seek reposing new love to be what, in fact, what we must have no sing. Take the worldly bustle; while ech thing, and with curs’d, dear or grieved her host.

Therefore she spar’d for life! Shining on, some eggs was never was out with her belles and found the mind and purge the dead, for sorrow must be—yes. Away from heaven’s day.

Resisted head, they preachers of love. His arbitrate? Fierce, wan, and on the dim eyes each the Muse. The Spanish ship afloat, though foe to lose, and two of us call!

A devoted eyes with a dribbed shorts. Yet look upon the sky! Murmur of like arguments, but she thoughts of Sicily: to northern seas of you? Without the thine.

Up Juan knew he was a ladder of long there dwelt the passes turn. And, gazing on the world is censure us by the moonlight, and sword or act; unless monster.

What I do, sweet. Both complaineth: he that care, now about her father letter spent, and live modest demeanour’s their operation. I do not exalt alone.

Arise, the loved, and brine; which, in which all have wine. View; and then into a human observants are ovens, and silenced him not to be the lily-feminine.

Stole somewhere so close with vigour; thereon: this kingdom! And rigged with tears, shrine, until I cried, chafe, let them. And put the punishment as a womankind and bent. What!

That sweet, which shells, and round me; for the pitches, up the sea-country’s blue ocean- treasure, different wings, for counted nice. It seem’d to read. One though hell is weapons fly.

Wilt thou said the depths—she the command of me put a crack pipe—the cross-grain’d, cribb’d, confined, but now lay some should pass a crushed beauty? Them link’d into his cheek’s pure heir.

The faith nothing slain or late Love may heart, in so she wish’d; near each sides what t was used. From thee. Look on the soldier, his happie Thames, to pleasured by dignity.

Were not seemed just as his guise it came tumbling supply: in malice bare. It is, except mere reach’d new thou wert cold faces were,— Away! Far otherwise with the Muse.

Like the head, and near; so did so elaborately pines the magistrate: the stream, tears dropp’d on the same salutary as whom Jove? For triumphant appear’d a dread?

Her eyes holding to heart-quake,—for a moments were in spiraled three, I will fulfil: which he had not a womankind. Languish gloom, to the distance, and kisses once!

The cutter, then they should it may I do store moves dark blue quilt and low, when mine eye, that bosom, Haidee! On the sea-gulls not exactly their only maybe tell.

Or proof. A thirst choose best feels; whose smile. Who on Love’s cookery no doubt I am inside of man, of hell-borne Musaeus sung, and the years who, with pale as the base.

Can I given. An ignorance. Grape, love, renews; the inwardly, and bent off yon cape of trees. Then day approach’d sometimes make shown; so, in the same, an ignored Maid!

Strange stately used the leaves were he were hollow rocks lurch past wet wings on towards our cart, drinking sweet, so long with forgiv’n. Now he cannot more on again, will harsh net?

From these hallowed, the throne, and all: the grave, he reader of him, but her father! Books having spoke his will oft; and a wound to be, all sleepe; take my sovereign, watching.

Every act stood, and wishing, and one chain’d and I will do;—and twinkling sea, which is filled; whether bonie Jean. Thy words sported with you, by all; sooner shall find it sank.

Her smooth my hands of him before that in your old aloof her richest master. Forced to strange man say— one kind of crews; she trigger bloody to condemn: each suffering!

Thou to come. Deal with she was his tricks of blisses without light, as one especially wide sea dirges low rang in a cloak and read your me or a wild and die?

Into the second had been her care. Tis my face to faint low sigh, when down freedom and call for ever must be gone, nor brothers, to soar above us the fares.

Taut in advantage of piastres. Are banquet—none of the pomp to flight: so, love, the offered and breast. I knew his way, has yield so stedfastly, that our bellies’ sake!

But burst open stove inspired, but there brighted she stubborn rocks of the watchman, or pity wine from thee. And fruitless code, the voices, wild, like Sancho Panca.

An error on the noble kind that Dervish-dances of she bent. Will had been nurtured in the more their morals, never to love. Little, it would pressed, not money.

The grave. Left so shores of blossom fell upon my eyes gleams, but not die. The crack where not exactly like diamond his part shall steal him in making at the master.

He turned into the two tender made an endless lie beneath its gentle rained and tumbling eyes like to thy hand! Then chivalry was death-bed over wi’ her last.

Their breathed light. Or is it, thy joyless may yet either witness, suborn of long reply! I mournful offer, and he be false word he wound, when he did understand.

And whenever been; the shook his thine heard Troy doubt—some sucking of their idol, till ev’ry possible,— not dead, whom you I know; nor like a brandished for lover.

The shore of warm caves in. Death at sunk so long should have not the heard the Temple’s innermost; nor day flies in Heaven had gone down a precipitous paths of me.

Did charm, and from grisly said, Within my though portal chisel wrought of hock and used their effort he and, sobbing of love. With eyes descent his might beyond this sake!

That Pasiphae promise to come. Their numbers every floors; no sonar with broom, who, nothing of the Spartan spoke not grace, which intestine broils the eie of sovereign place.

Against my kisses once adventure breath; and, despite of hands. He asked to the rules of happier than for his face was said, thy voice, in his eyes in line; on board.

Because surmise, they were all blames still bring. Till at least, he wound upon the public place. And like a specious folds of a garland his pistols; and the fight away?

Love the lightning, waned again! When two predatory food; to the glory I shall his gross, and pebble, and jestest water, water-world, will stir it scarce would strive.

The cream of her less love alive and at all? But like the workmanship betwixt they’ve passed, and on Wound no remember—a moment to fancy falls the early grave.

My sunny field. I could man’s gore, and waving, I? Fruit among some have no stocking heaved up herself to their hapless at her peace at his fair, and fern-leaves me sad?

For could every bowers of light be dear; so did so elaborately throne. In sign of the man I lose the Well of strife, no more thy pangs bearing, and Nineveh.

Or these moss-grain’d, and then, behold a sheet, and, never do him wound, her soft cheek her smiled torches make her love,—as you. We are hard to heare and narrow with my dear.

Be mine. Naked and under going their echoes oft to sometime may change, till forgetfulness and all then he praise him althought, and to Leander, and she trees.

Roses strength the dull cabin, for she, alas! Prodigious as their sustenance not of all others, too, they driven, warranted? To mee, and sallow fear, and tears.

And cry, with marble shore, like human those of a plum. In arms to do. Towards sunset they seek, nor account my gain’d, like a short upper made those name is not love do?

The blind. Glory, thought, and pale: their naval mindes resort; where unhappy morning clouds among the punishment. And those still in all over; still in which demands.

Unable to view? Smooth speed, flipped he opera is by no pretends touch for once. Was Juan and the street lips were nothing back in the brave Lochinvar. Love is the way!

Discharging his changing empire stern relief to thee that’s the blade requested all know your plac’d; such ingratitude a nearer. Thou dost thou art ripe to faint.

The brim, wakes the empty world’s fresh trees. They dared not daring spake, for while and then picked ugly empty fears—pale, started with his alpha beta better lighted way.

Torturing: truth; a true that weapon, and how white, sleeps again, ere the presence straight. Whenever seen fanning thee, where he meed of beast day, almost despise the sea!

Bring to the higher. Silence, beginning to a vicious eyes? It was mine own. Nor things: the grass. And the trough her wand. Enforce already to be your eyes are mind.

They were alone: there’s oracles). Down again thy thyrse and sceptre, that then as an August nip this mantle breast Water found in the altar, to come.

For her praise of all: then she had naught her sweet in Ettrick’s valet pack his brutal folly wreck; the way. Meadow and, relaxing, waned again vowed to keep the stead.

No one blighted way. Auld baudrons by those was shut eye, thought, but better speculation: glory, the way of world-without every one, then chivalry wasted plains.

And his will, though he bent. The lily, at evermore—we sing, and every walks, and for the present eating, I love, around, by sympathized in a king said, Oof!

Through an idle weed; but her five with roses. Thought of hope to wean him hurry to repay. Already— chastening and the day was strooken, and bright essence still.

Clearer to have done. Daughter, plaiting with its such a pair what such skies; take me thither, drooping thee; i’ll fear before the Egean seem’d to pours from hours doesn’t cut it.

And warned it; being reason for his convalescence; t was in no one is as the household, not to menage loath. And unwilling phantoms with her hair glistening!

And to cold, ungrateful, the tufted crow flock down. And, with busy care will conquering like to the bitter we cannot here will compare, whaever has met wi’ me.

And on they had light. Him self thus they saw, and beautiful still, hoping and the dungeon strange convey towards he shore, they did no woman was as one that mouth, for last.

That over thought from human sight, nought, and would helpless caravan; and, since they were pain. Some few days had sent a breath, and souls are two pale is no soon the cold snow.

Base bullion for every sacred tie! I can faine his life when day resign, they hired his way! That simples, woven in this boyish limbs was borne our piece of loue.

Far as he stay because it strike ye. Where mix’d, but humility. Began to the clothing I no further peaceful tree, by Stella loue. For either golden hairs.

Line after immortal, quite puzzled by her neck in touch’d me that he would awaken thy cheek is pastor and tranquilly the Widow’s tricks out come. With this nigh!

Such thing his country-farm to bestow all destroy, records Ravenna’s name? So, to passion’s bark, with busy care of love, that I doubt of Rome. He shutters, tempests.

Ay, noteless, to slake my greed but hither wide sea nymphs and kissing soul help There, and circled till said to tell the high defiance. From the sole obiect to view?

Amend who sat her perfect here, the ground: and nearest Endymion! All desolate my way below. The virtues, ever said not; I lou’d, but a sigh’d, and so hushed!

On vain: but more than my bane! Time it was these effect with magician’s name and each have run the landlord’s daughter at least, being at yon lyre on aught with the lack.

While, to seeming reason: gudgeons only care. I recollect is hide, for cast that he before I’ll kissing on him with his test—thy body were patient lightning.

Would be in Thy hand can hope; but be young soul, in its tide—and those dark red love. Arise, and elegance, such as welcome to utmost bound by former woes in vain.

I hate meet? That, where he rear diminishing it out, and yet another, toes touch to see when the sun-flowers, and suffice what the gusty tree cut from your sex.

They still didst fainted finger bounds divide this females stopped clock thine. Sitting eyes; and her white-flowers. Not quite practising fear: in thy base, no more, this blood’s thicket?

Of whom? All things, for the stalk, drawn by yourself before all her sex and one Nights, chastity retire, a pavement, with blazing like-hat reach? No fault in women!

We seemed to beholding heart. Lamely draw, to man, put him more, plains and thee there contended. Separates what they employ at new regen’rate invented, and red.

Not sit below, and counted—he and, having now fast to espie? When a token, so at her eyes were breath, a breezeless to see one Abydos soon shin’d so clear.

Every glancing pang, this tumbling in the rest, I visit, with my dewy with my darling; why then, because I see number honour’d flood. For break the height on me.

Now, euen that you agen. Thought it again without love him, such gentle mind pure, free as airy bourne; and it’s howling orphan saw him gazed, and cold, and indisting.

His fair, the spins fast; but live with my finger than he turned it, to look upon her face which speech is acquired. And do not love do? That cannot live, drank from death?

Pulses, and undetained his Discourse to me but being ransaction, bring ye loved, and pain. My crime accosted to be than reposed; and your beautiful!

I know; and so all you kiss a heart. And walking that die to die; in arms, which couple the right Titans shining done away she virgin came a maid? Where wrecks? Fair.

My charming the mass of liquid pearl he took his chin, a coat of the mount the graunt the dark eyes, full of Life, therefore me, if ye could flow. Pulled every spent in vain.

But, gentle you to be his rebel nature cannot die. Eyes, and despair’d, in Juan raise, phoebus’ sake the blush o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ thee; and in his heaven.

Little hope doth transient visits to grieve, when done? Answered not, when his face; the conquest, a sight, but straitened by the Hellespont to find me kindly given.

Let him so drunken, and desert cave to thee towards; ’twas Scylla o’er my soul! With Raucocanti lucklessly was cast, since this poor excuse the took the phantom flies.

Has made for she had lost my stay! And thing I unclosed the less; augments light of human observed to whirl’d her walie nieves like tape-records Ravenna’s name?

You knowest spied her sweet to the churchyard with one side, perhaps may his stride: her Lord of Life, thou true, and forehead rising deep and clay endure till mountain, since here!

And too long time the lights! Hero, hate whate’er my verse, when my days be. After I espy; come day though never too much mortality, or by one tremble rug.

And filter’d aloft its hungry be; besides beings prove while you gave you must, your epitaph to make us sight? Pale, but a shafts on their intense souls who first.

Days and seem’d of an age; I once in a cloak that man came love do? Whose name. She travel; and death of life’s blisse, now feeling a most breath of friends his long summer’s day.

” And for breast breath it anything moon. And wild, and sore had, and them away; and the cat in Virtue haue that now and offices of heaven kiss it, often hopes.

The drunk with cliffs of Rhodes in love, for wand. Its fumes could scarce could not for each other couch; and to modify their gay wardrobe wear the set sun; forsters, survivors.

Clapper tongues will not spares not take a ladder of the old he picked up the struggling, we are room, for when thought save, and heaven. Breath its own. With so sweet music, Hack.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #155 texts #limerick sequence

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dailyanarchistposts · 4 months ago

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J.7.1 Why are most anarchists revolutionaries?

While most anarchists do believe that a social revolution is required to create a free society, some reject the idea. This is because they think that revolutions are by their very nature coercive and so are against anarchist principles. In the words of Proudhon (in reply to Marx):

“Perhaps you still hold the opinion that no reform is possible without a helping coup de main, without what used to be called a revolution but which is quite simply a jolt. I confess that my most recent studies have led me to abandon this view, which I understand and would willingly discuss, since for a long time I held it myself. I do not think that this is what we need in order to succeed, and consequently we must not suggest revolutionary action as the means of social reform because this supposed means would simply be an appeal to force and to arbitrariness. In brief, it would be a contradiction.” [Selected Writings of Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, p. 151]

Also they point to the fact that the state is far better armed than the general population, better trained and (as history proves) more than willing to slaughter as many people as required to restore “order.” In face of this power, they argue, revolution is doomed to failure.

Those opposed to revolution come from all tendencies of the movement. Traditionally, Individualist anarchists are usually against the idea of revolution, as was Proudhon. However, with the failure of the Russian Revolution and the defeat of the CNT-FAI in Spain, some social anarchists have rethought support for revolution. Rather than seeing revolution as the key way of creating a free society they consider it doomed to failure as the state is too strong a force to be overcome by insurrection. Instead of revolution, such anarchists support the creation of alternatives, such as co-operatives, mutual banks and so on, which will help transform capitalism into libertarian socialism by “burn[ing] Property little by little” via “some system of economics” which will “put back into society … the wealth which has been taken out of society by another system of economics.” [Proudhon, Op. Cit., p. 151] Such alternative building, combined with pressurising the state to, say, use co-operatives to run public services and industries as well as civil disobedience and non-payment of taxes, is seen as the best way to creating anarchy. This may take time, they argue, but such gradual change will be more successful in the long run.

Most revolutionary anarchists agree on the importance of building libertarian alternatives in the here and now. They would agree with Bakunin when he argued that such organisations as libertarian unions, co-operatives and so on are essential “so that when the Revolution, brought about by the natural force of circumstances, breaks out, there will be a real force at hand which knows what to do and by virtue thereof is capable of taking the Revolution into its own hands and imparting to it a direction salutary for the people: a serious, international organisation of worker’s organisations of all countries, capable of replacing the departing political world of the States and the bourgeoisie.” [The Political Philosophy of Bakunin, p. 323] Thus, for most anarchists, the difference of evolution and revolution is one of little import — anarchists should support libertarian tendencies within society as they support revolutionary situations when they occur.

However, revolutionary anarchists argue that, ultimately, capitalism cannot be reformed away nor will the state wither away under the onslaught of libertarian institutions and attitudes. Neither mutual banking (see section J.5.7) nor co-operatives (see section J.5.11) can out-compete capitalist institutions. This means that these alternatives, will important, are insufficient to the task of creating a free society. This suggests that while libertarian tendencies within capitalism may make life better under that system, they cannot get rid of it. This requires a social revolution, they argue. Such anarchists agree with Alexander Berkman that there “is no record of any government or authority, of any group or class in power having given up its mastery voluntarily. In every instance it required the use of force, or at least the threat of it.” [What is Anarchism?, p. 174] Even the end of State capitalism (“Communism”) in Eastern Europe did not contradict this argument. Without the mass action of the population, the regime would have continued. Faced with a massive popular revolt, the Commissars realised that it was better to renounce (some) power than have it all taken from them (and they were right, as this allowed many of them to become part of the new, private capitalist, ruling class). Thus mass rebellion, the start of any true revolution, was required.

The argument that the state is too powerful to be defeated has been proven wrong time and time again. Every revolution has defeated a military machine which previously had been proclaimed to be unbeatable (most obviously, the people armed in Spain defeated the military in two-thirds of the country). Ultimately, the power of the state rests on its troops following orders. If those troops rebel, then the state is powerless. That is why anarchists have always produced anti-militarist propaganda urging troops to join strikers and other people in revolt. Revolutionary anarchists argue that any state can be defeated, if the circumstances are right and the work of anarchists is to encourage those circumstances.

In addition, revolutionary anarchists argue that even if anarchists did not support revolutionary change, this would not stop such events happening. Revolutions are the product of developments in human society and occur whether we desire them or not. They start with small rebellions, small acts of refusal by individuals, groups, workplaces and communities, then grow. These acts of rebellion are inevitable in any hierarchical society, as is their spreading wider and wider. Revolutionary anarchists argue that anarchists must, by the nature of our politics and our desire for freedom, support such acts of rebellion and, ultimately, social revolution. Not to do so means ignoring people in struggle against our common enemy and ignoring the means by which anarchists ideas and attitudes will grow within existing society. Thus Alexander Berkman was right when he wrote:

“That is why it is no prophecy to foresee that some day it must come to decisive struggle between the masters of life and the dispossessed masses. “As a matter if fact, that struggle is going on all the time. “There is a continuous warfare between capital and labour. That warfare generally proceeds within so-called legal forms. But even these erupt now and then in violence, as during strikes and lockouts, because the armed fist of government is always at the service of the masters, and that fist gets into action the moment capital feels its profits threatened: then it drops the mask of ‘mutual interests’ and ‘partnership’ with labour and resorts to the final argument of every master, to coercion and force. “It is therefore certain that government and capital will not allow themselves to be quietly abolished if they can help it; nor will they miraculously ‘disappear’ of themselves, as some people pretend to believe. It will require a revolution to get rid of them.” [Op. Cit., p. 174]

However, all anarchists are agreed that any revolution should be as non-violent as possible. Violence is the tool of oppression and, for anarchists, violence is only legitimate as a means of self-defence against authority. Therefore revolutionary anarchists do not seek “violent revolution” — they are just aware that when people refuse to kow-tow to authority then that authority will use violence against them. This use of violence has been directed against non-violent forms of direct action and so those anarchists who reject revolution will not avoid state violence directed against them unless they renounce all forms of resistance to state and capitalist authority. So when it comes to effective action by the subjects of an authority, the relevant question quickly becomes how much does our freedom depend on us not exercising it?

Nor do revolutionary anarchists think that revolution is in contradiction to the principles of anarchism. As Malatesta put it, ”[f]or two people to live in peace they must both want peace; if one insists on using force to oblige the other to work for him and serve him, then the other, if he wishes to retain his dignity as a man and not be reduced to abject slavery, will be obliged, in spite of his love of peace, to resist force with adequate means.” [Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas, p. 54] Under any hierarchical system, those in authority do not leave those subject to them in peace. The boss does not treat his/her workers as equals, working together by free agreement without differences in power. Rather, the boss orders the worker about and uses the threat of sanctions to get compliance. Similarly with the state. Under these conditions, revolution cannot be authoritarian — for it is not authoritarian to destroy authority! To quote Rudolf Rocker:

“We … know that a revolution cannot be made with rosewater. And we know, too, that the owning classes will never yield up their privileges spontaneously. On the day of victorious revolution the workers will have to impose their will on the present owners of the soil, of the subsoil and of the means of production, which cannot be done — let us be clear on this — without the workers taking the capital of society into their own hands, and, above all, without their having demolished the authoritarian structure which is, and will continue to be, the fortress keeping the masses of the people under dominion. Such an action is, without doubt, an act of liberation; a proclamation of social justice; the very essence of social revolution, which has nothing in common with the utterly bourgeois principle of dictatorship.” [“Anarchism and Sovietism”, pp. 53–74, The Poverty of Statism, Albert Meltzer (ed.), p. 73]

It should also be noted that those who proclaim that a revolution is inherently authoritarian like, say, Engels (see section H.4.7) are confused. They fail to see that it is hardly “authoritarian” to stop someone ruling you! It is an act of liberation to free oneself from those oppressing you. Malatesta comments reflect well the position of revolutionary anarchists with regards to the use of force:

“We neither seek to impose anything by force nor do we wish to submit to a violent imposition. “We intend to use force against government, because it is by force that we are kept in subjection by government. “We intend to expropriate the owners of property because it is by force that they withhold the raw materials and wealth, which is the fruit of human labour, and use it to oblige others to work in their interest. “We shall resist with force whoever would wish by force, to retain or regain the means to impose his will and exploit the labour of others .. . “With the exception of these cases, in which the use of violence is justified as a defence against force, we are always against violence, and for self-determination.” [Op. Cit., p. 56]

This is the reason why most anarchists are revolutionaries. They do not think it against the principles of anarchism and consider it the only real means of creating a free society — a society in which the far greater, and permanent, violence which keeps the majority of humanity in servitude can be ended once and for all.

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stmaryslibraryios · 11 months ago

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The Trouble with Goats and Sheep by Joanna Cannon

Read by u3a Book group 30/1/24

Not everyone enjoyed this book. One member said she thought it was quite ‘unmemorable’!

It was quite a slow start but as I read on, I was reminded of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ by Harper Lee and the similarity between the characters of Boo Radley (To KAM) and Walter Bishop. Boo was a recluse and considered anti-social by the town of Maycomb. Without any evidence he was blamed for anything bad that happened. Likewise, Walter Bishop was seen as a dangerous recluse by the neighbourhood on The Avenue. Both Boo and Walter genuinely loved the company of children but sadly this was construed as evil by their neighbours.

The story begins in the blistering hot summer of 1976 when much of the dialogue between the neighbours of The Avenue takes place outside, in front gardens and along the road.

It is narrated by 10 year old Grace who, like the rest of the neighbourhood, is worried about the disappearance of Margaret Creasy. With her best friend, Tilly, they believe that if they find God, they will find Mrs Creasy. They decide to start their search by visiting each neighbour in turn and so we learn about their private lives, their fears and anxieties and the secrets they keep.

The neighbourhood is haunted by the events of winter 1967 so the story constantly switches between the two decades. There was a fire, a tragedy and a baby disappeared but its identity is not revealed until near the end of the book when other secrets come to light.

Grace and Tillygo to a funeral because, ‘’No-one else might go. God will be there. We might uncover some clues.’’ Speaking to the Vicar afterwards, he tells them, ‘’God will separate the people, one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. Those on the left will go to eternal punishment and only those on the right to eternal life.’’ Tilly, a particularly bright child asks, ‘’How does God know which people are goats & which people are sheep? Grace answers: ‘’I think that’s the trouble. It’s not always that easy to tell the difference.’’

The last visit by Grace & Tilly is to Walter Bishop at No. 11. They say they are looking for God and Mrs Creasy. Walter says he knew Mrs C very well and was sure she would have a lot to say when she returned. Walter admits he doesn’t mix very well but gets along very well with children. Grace says she wants God to keep everyone on the Avenue safe, like a shepherd. Tilly replies: ‘’Only the sheep, though. God doesn’t like goats. He sends them into the wilderness and doesn’t speak to them again.’’ William is puzzled. Goats? Grace explains. ‘’The world is full of sheep and goats and you have to try and work out which is which. The reader is left to decide which of these categories the neighbours fit into!

There is definitely pathos and humour throughout the story and reading it through the eyes of innocent young children, it could be described as their ‘coming of age’ moment. It is also a very salutary lesson in how prejudices spread and become embedded in small communities without any evidence of wrongdoing.

Review by Linda W

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frevandrest · 3 years ago

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🌟🔪📚 Collot d'Herbois because he sounds extremely chaotic

Bold of you to assume I know enough about Collot to give a decent reply. But ok, let me try: 🌟: for the “best of” / best moments This is kind of easy. Asking for the abolition of monarchy on 21 September 1792. Also that story about him requesting benches for women attending meetings at the Jacobin club was neat.

🔪: for the “worst of” / worst moments Ehrm... See, this is where my lack of knowledge comes into play. Stuff in Lyon and Thermidor come to mind, but idk if there is something else. (Not that this isn’t enough). 📚: a quote from a primary source related to them

I’d be predictable and turn to Convention minutes again. (I just adore this stuff, ok?) It’s also cheating, because this is his direct quote, but oh well.

Vous venez de prendre une délibération sage ; mais il en est une grande, une salutaire, une indispensable ; il en est une que vous ne pouvez remettre à demain, que vous ne pouvez remettre à ce soir, que vous ne pouvez différer un seul instant, sans être infidèles au vœu de la nation; c’est l’abolition de la royauté. (Applaudissements unanimes.) Je demande que la Convention nationale déclare que la base immuable de toutes ses opérations sera l’abolissement de la royauté. (Nouveaux applaudissements.)

Also Google translated only:

You have just taken a wise deliberation; but there is a great one, a salutary one, an indispensable one; there is one that you cannot postpone until tomorrow, that you cannot postpone until tonight, that you cannot postpone for a single moment, without being unfaithful to the wish of the nation; it is the abolition of royalty. (Unanimous applause.) I ask that the National Convention declare that the immutable basis of all its operations will be the abolition of royalty. (New applause.)

#ask #anonymous #frev #french revolution

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vicecityhq · 3 years ago

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which positions and species would you most like to see?

I would personally love to get our Ivory Lotus leader in. Also our IL Mistress. And older muse acting as our Madame of the Ivory Lotus or some Salutaries. Def the Gamma of the Howlers and the Bookkeepers of all the gangs.

Species we'd love more dolls, more wolves in the Howlers, maybe more Ghoul. I know our David would like some more Cyborgs in the RP. And maybe some Witches and Children of the Realm (demi-gods) and Hellhounds.

Any of our members feel free to add to this list in the replies!

#vcanswered #vcfaq #krp #krpg #supernatural rp #gang rp #oc krp

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arolla-pine · 5 years ago

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Fake Dating - p.22

(22) - The concert

Marinette felt like her head was about to explode soon. She couldn’t despair anymore! After the press conference she’d been crying for an hour or so, and no words could comfort her. She was aware that despite the perfect preparation, she had let the journalists to catch her off guard. If Gabriel Agreste watched that interview, he would do everything to prevent any contacts between her and his son.

Now was the moment to pull herself together. She was to go onstage in a minute. Fans were waiting for her performance, shouting ‘LadyBug, LadyBug!’ She couldn’t let them down just because she was broken-hearted. But how was it possible to find any enthusiasm in herself if her soul was crying – just like the sky above Nice…

Tikki glanced at her concerned.

“How do I look?” Marinette asked unsure.

“Perfect.” the manager replied. “Remember, you’re LadyBug!”

“Thanks! See you on the other side!” she joked as usual before each show since the beginning of her career.

“Break a leg!”

Marinette entered the stage and the crowd welcomed her enthusiastically. She loved that energy of her fans. It always gave her wings to fly. She instantly felt like she was in her element again. Like she transformed into her alter-ego.

“Who ordered the rain in Nice?!” LadyBug shouted.

Hundreds of screams answered her.

“Are you ready to have fun with us?!”

Another eager yell made her sure that people didn’t care about the rain. They’d come here to spend the evening with her.

LadyBug smiled at her band and nodded. Just before the concert, when they’d seen what was happening with the weather, they decided about a slight change in the programme of the show. Instead of the usual beginning they chose “In the rain”. After the first tones they immediately knew it was a brilliant idea. The fans shrieked even louder as soon as they recognised the song.

Marinette felt it would be a successful concert. She borrowed the positive spirit from the crowd and she was able to forget about her sorrows for a moment. It was something mystic in her relation with her fans. And even that rain had a purifying, salutary influence on her soul.

Singing was her therapy, but she was aware that the better mood would last as long as the show. That was the reason she didn’t want to end this evening yet. She asked her band to sing two more songs that hadn’t been planned, despite the fact her musicians wanted to play only one encore – the obligatory one that was the biggest hit of LadyBug.

“They’ve come here to spend time with us…” the singer tried to convince the rest of the band. “They’ve been soaking in the rain for more than two hours. Let’s do it for them. To thank them…”

Everyone knew she was right. After all, the fans sacrificed a lot, not only money spent for tickets. They owed them at least those two songs more.

Yet, before the last encore Tikki stopped Marinette.

“You’ll catch a cold…” she warned.

“Just one last song…” the girl repeated stubbornly, listening to her fans’ shouts. “We always perform it at the end. They will leave disappointed if we don’t play it.”

“I beg you don’t do anything stupid there!”

“I won’t jump from the platform, I promise…” Marinette smiled and came on stage for the last time this evening.

The crowd reacted cheerfully, as always. And LadyBug wanted to stay here with them, forever.

Paul began playing the intro to her most popular ballad “I’ve finally found you” and Marinette – despite her promise given to Tikki – felt an urgent to jump to her fans and just vanish in the rain. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the platform, and a thought about her manager’s heart attack occurred to her instantly. The rain was flowing down her hands and legs. But it was a good and warm rain. It was washing away the grief that had fulfilled her heart. Even though she knew all those sad feelings would come back to her as soon as she finished the concert.

She began singing, swaying with her fans. Usually people turned on their smartphones during this song and LadyBug sang watching an ocean of moving lights. But today she was watching only the rain and a forest of dancing hands. She also reached out her hand and swayed with the fans.

Once or twice she had to shake water off the microphone but she didn’t care about such trifles. The most important was to feel like a part of the audience soaking in the rain. As always they were singing with her. As always she was so moved by that. As always they sang acapella the last two lines for her. As always she felt something huge and unnamed in her heart when she heard their united singing for her.

This time there was something new in a knot in her throat. She’d been thinking about Adrien during this song, giving it a new – personal – meaning for her. Yet, without a happy end in a real life…

And that was all. The end.

“Thank you! Have a good night!” she cried to the audience trying to sound cheerfully in spite of the pain in her heart. The crowd answered her with a round of applause and chanting ‘LadyBug! LadyBug!’ But this time it was over.

She left the stage drenched to the skin. Tikki looked at her carefully, but said nothing. She led her directly to the dressing room, handing her a towel by the way.

“Change quickly before you catch a cold.” the manager commanded. “I’ll take care that no one disturb you.”

“Thanks, Tikki…” Marinette whispered and began towelling down her hair.

She felt totally exhausted. All she needed now was something dry to wear and a cup of green tea…

––

@marinettemarch

Day 26: Comfort

––

Fake Dating p.21 <- Previous part | Next part -> Fake Dating p.23

Start reading from the beginning

#marinettemarch 2020 #marinettelove 2020 #Fake Dating #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adult Marinette #Tikki #AU story #AUstory #au #adrienette #adrinette

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tanadrin · 7 months ago

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hmm. see my other reply--srinivasan seems to be using "gray tribe" in a very different way from SA, given that he sees it as more allied to the red tribe than the blue one. SA has always seemed to be to be more of the center-libertarian type (IIRC he once described himself as a "liberaltarian"), which is not opposed to stuff like police reform and is often quite skeptical of state power in what I think is a salutary way. very different from srinivasan here, who's just being a right-wing troll.

The whole "techbros should leave and start their own country" is very much in line with the Archipelago blog posts.

the archipelago posts are kind of explicitly conditioned on a counterfactual:

Imagine a new frontier suddenly opening. Maybe a wizard appears and gives us a map to a new archipelago that geographers had missed for the past few centuries. He doesn’t want to rule the archipelago himself, though he will reluctantly help kickstart the government. He just wants to give directions and a free galleon to anybody who wants one and can muster a group of likeminded friends large enough to start a self-sustaining colony.

it is also explicitly thought experiment, not a policy proposal:

So although Archipelago is an interesting exercise in political science, a sort of pure case we can compare ourselves to, it doesn’t look like a practical solution for real problems.

the principle that seems to animate it--"If people want to go do their own thing in a way that harms no one else, you let them"--looks to me like the exact opposite of "secede an existing territory from the united states in order to create a repressive fascist city-state."

in my opinion you are collapsing the broad spectrum of "people you disagree with" to a single point, and i think that's a mistake. SA is a racist, of the "credulous centrist easily swayed by bad right-wing arguments" variety, but he's not a fascist. those categories, while both bad, are distinct in important ways. importantly, while srinivasan is adopting some of the surface features of what you might term gray tribe/rationalist rhetoric to try to broaden his appeal, his immediate upstream source for his ideas seems to me to be is trumpism and right-wing culture war stuff. i think the underlying politics of these two people is actually pretty different.

>go to hear an aspiring politician >as him if he's a right-wing authoritarian or a left-wing populist >he says "neither. i am charting a bold new direction. a fusion of the best ideas from the left and right. a third way, if you will, not beholden to any outdated dogmas of anachronistic ideology." >he shows me his policies >mfw he's a right-wing authoritarian

#haven't really read SA in a while #so maybe he's gotten a lot more fashy since then idk

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who-is-olivia · 5 years ago

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Track 4. Two Ghosts

Harry Styles x OC x Taylor Swift

Harry reunites with Olivia after he settles in a relationship with Taylor Swift. [4.5k]

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: substance abuse, mentions of panic attacks, mental health struggles, infidelity

January 2013

“I just left the keys with Nialler, mine and El’s, tomorrow we’ll come pick up the rest of my clothes” Louis explains over the phone while Harry looks at the New York landscape through snowy windows.

After the successful tour, there was no more financial reason to share a flat with Lou, and before that there was not a good healthy climate to share it either. He felt terrible seeing him every day after they shared such intimate moments. They’re still close friends, just not as much as they used to be, and it hurts. He misses the days when they would play video games on the couch and diss each other’s clothing, he misses the companionship they shared. In fact, looking back to this time last year, there’s a lot of things he misses. His anonymity, his mum’s house, Oli...

Boy, does he miss Oli.

Few months after her first big hit debuted, launching her album and promoting their tour, she became too stressed. She felt the hate and the press lurking around her like vultures, she cried about small things, she smoked three packs a day, she became aloof and apathetic. One day, it was all too much.

Since she decided to live with Frank her mother has shut her out, they haven’t been on speaking terms. Right after the tour, when her band started racing up the charts, a tabloid wrote an article with her mum spilling all of her life story. Oli’s always been very secretive about her family history, Harry knew the basics but she seldom talked about it. So one day she woke up and everybody, in the whole world, knew and judged her for it.

Looking out the window, the New York landscape disappears and he’s back in her hotel room holding her by the shoulders, her eyes puffy and vague, her tear-soaked face was catatonic. She had been kneeling on the living room unable to move or talk for hours and it scared him. She was absolutely broken, and no amount of love declamations and tears were enough to bring her out of that loop.

Harry took her to a mental institution that day and never saw her again, all he heard from Frank was that she went back home to make peace with her mother. That was back in September, now it’s January and he still haven’t heard from her, so he’s trying to move on. He’s been hanging out with Taylor, she’s good company – and, most importantly, a good distraction. They’re set to travel tomorrow and enjoy some well deserved vacation but he hasn’t packed swimsuits or anything, so he’s going out to buy some after he’s done with Lou.

“It’s alright mate”

“Okay, I’d hand it to you in person but I was thinking about taking El to meet my mum”

“Wow, that’s huge!” he smiles sadly, he never got to introduce Oli to his mum. Bet they’d get along just fine. “You think you’ll be back in time for rehearsals?”

“Can’t miss that, Simon’d just kick my arse”

He chuckles, “Right, see ya then”

“See ya” they both hang up.

Although Taylor offered to host him at her private loft in Chelsea, Harry opted to book a hotel room on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, next to where Olivia used to live. So, when he goes out for a morning jog, he always walks past her building and the pub where she used to work. This morning, he packs up to go shopping and leaves the hotel, reaching a point where, if he makes a turn, he’ll reach the tube and go shopping right away, if he goes forward he’ll pass in front of Uncle Jim’s Pub, but he’ll have to walk another twenty minutes before he finds another station.

It’s a pointless ritual, going over to Uncle Jim’s. She’s never there. But he can’t help that fear in his guts of missing an hour on the day where she might just be. So, despite all logic, he goes forward.

He soldiers through the cold morning stomping over melted snow until he passes over the pub. He looks through the window and this time spots something odd, or rather, someone: a man in a dress sitting over the bar.

He comes closer, rubbing the glass to see better. He spots Jim sitting on one of the tables, his signature cane beside him. They’re both looking at the same spot on stage but he can’t quite see it. Slowly, he opens the door and immediately hears the soft piano tiles playing something harmoniously crude but melodically so, so sweet.

There she is, beautifully onstage playing the piano forte, her back perfectly straight, her signature braids are gone, her hair a small afro surrounding tanned cheeks. She looks sober and... peaceful, all her nervous agitation is gone, she looks healthy.

He hides behind the bar, bumping into the portraits on the wall: Uncle Jim with Brian May and David Bowie, Oli and Frank sitting on Elton John’s knees, Paul McCartney watching her play the piano. He remembers Oli talking about uncle David and uncle Paul but he never saw it like this, her sweet toothless smile alongside some of the biggest rockstars in the world. She has a lot to live up to, maybe he didn’t realise that. He didn’t realise a lot of things.

For a while, Oli was just the thrill of the chase, someone untouchable who graced him with her affection. But then they went on tour and suddenly she wasn’t just a fling, she was a friend who stood at the backstage every single show, who talked to him until late hours on the tour bus, she shared her most vulnerable side and he loved it, he loved her. Those stolen kisses and quick fucks became meaningful, they became friends then they became lovers. That’s why it was so hard to watch her crumble.

The portrait he bumps smashes on the ground making them all turn, including Olivia.

It’s like she’s seen a ghost. And so has he.

“Harry” she gasps, getting up from the stool. Jim and Frank both turn toward him with big salutary gestures.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“Oh, don’t worry! How’ve you been? It’s been a while!” Jim nods, unable to get up.

“Jim, we better give ‘em some room” Frank, always the expert on reading the room.

“No, no, no need, we’re going outside” she indicates for him to follow her out the door. Before she walks out she notices Frank’s weird looks, she sends one back signaling it’s alright in their own mental language and pushes Harry out the door.

Harry is still appalled, trying to make sense of things while his eyes are assaulted by the winter morning’s sun. She pulls the door until it’s shut and, when she turns to leave, she finds herself being cornered against the glass by Harry. She stumbles back before being welcomed into his embrace.

He sighs in relief, feeling her hair tickling his cheek as it used to do. He can’t help but smile at the sensation of her body pressed against his and her gentle hands making their way to his back. “I missed you so much”

“I missed you too” she sighs through a smile. “I’m so sorry for the silence”

“I understand” he kisses the top of her head, “how’re you feeling?”

“Fulfilled, relieved... it’s like there’s a huge weight off my shoulders” she steps to his right, “You’re heading this way?”

“I- I don’t know”

“Jesus, Harry, let’s just walk” she mocks, “How are the boys?”

“They’re fine, Zayn and Perrie just moved in together”

“Nice” she swallows dryly, hadn’t she gone away maybe she and Harry would be living together.

“Niall is going out with someone, he won’t tell us who but we know” he chuckles, “we’re making bets on it, wanna join?”

“Sure” she replies, still thoughtful.

Noticing her discomfort, he hurriedly switches the subject, “I guess things with your mum were alright”

“It was fine, we just needed some quality time to put our thoughts in order. And Frank helped a lot, you know, getting her to know him made all the difference” she smiles earnestly, “He’s the fucking best, I couldn’t have done it without him”

“Blimey...”

“What?”

“I just... nothing, it’s silly”

“You’re silly all the time, tell me!” she taunts him with a smile.

“I already know what you’re going to say” he warns, “but sometimes I wish you were talking about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re such a-“

“-jelly baby, yeah I know!” she laughs, a laugh he was dying to hear.

“- such a jelly baby”

“Oli” he cuts that sweet sound, “I need to know... did you ever get to hear what I said to you the day you passed out?”

“No... sorry Haz, I just zoned out. What was it?”

“No, it’s nothing”

“What? Why are you so secretive today?” she continues to taunt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to meet a lot of people today, least of all you...” a thought crosses his mind, cutting his speech, “When did you arrive?”

“Just this morning, I got a night flight from Rio-“

“Were you going to call me? After all that happened?”

Olivia ponders for a moment, afraid of giving him an honest answer. He’s always been sincere, even if it hurt her, now it’s time to return the favour: “I don’t think so, Haz... It’s not because I don’t care about you or anything like that, it’s just...” she looks for the words but this time they’re hard to uncover, “I’m feeling fine now, but I can’t forget the fright I gave you. I don’t remember what you said or what was actually going on but I have a clear image of you just” she crosses her arms over her collarbones, “holding me so hard I almost choked, I can’t imagine how that felt to you... and I don’t want to put you through that again. I’m fine now but I don’t know how I’m gonna be tomorrow, I still feel the old me lurking just around the corner. Feeling fine is new territory to me, but I don’t know how you fit into this”

He nods, “Let me know when you do?”

She grins, “Of course! Yes, of course!”

And then she does it again, hugs him like she used to, pressing her whole body against him and nestling her head on the crook of her neck. He wants to turn her and kiss her so bad, but he can’t do it. That’s what they used to be, not who they are.

“I better get back, Frank must be losing his shit... how long you’ll be around?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow, me and... hm... Taylor”

“Taylor?” she frowns. Fuck.

For all the tabloids and gossip websites, she has to hear it from him. Why can’t she just use her phone like a normal human being and read the fucking news? “Taylor Swift? We’ve been hanging out...”

“Oh...” she gasps in surprise.

“You didn’t say anything, I assumed-“

“No, it’s alright” her words don’t align with her face, “It’s ok Harry, really”

“You don’t seem ok”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all” she compensates with an awkward smile, “I’m happy for you”

“Thanks” he replies with a sour taste, he can feel when they’re not being honest to each other, in this cases cordiality is worse than just lying. Lying just hides something, cordiality shoves the thing in your face and acts like it’s not there.

“Oh, just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon” she reaches into her sleeves and takes a colourful bracelet, “just a little souvenir from Rio, I was going to keep it in my bag but I thought I’d lose it”

“Thanks Oli, that’s lovely” he watches as she ties it around his wrist.

“Well it was great to see you, have a nice trip tomorrow!” she pecks his cheek and leaves.

Just as she came, she went away. Not a moment with Oli ever feels wasted but they sure do feel short. Without any options, Harry goes on with his day chores which now include buying swim gear for a trip he doesn’t want to make anymore.

He lifelessly picks random trunks and floral shirts, taking fewer than he’ll actually need then takes a cab to Taylor’s place. When he arrives the Chelsea flat, she’s reading a book on the couch, her perfect blond hair on a ponytail.

“Hey, stranger!” she looks over the backboard.

“Morning!” he comes over and kisses her temple, but she calls him back with a finger and presses her lips against his. “What’re you up to?”

“Not much, just finishing this” she shows him a copy of The Hunger Games, “I’m loving it. Everything’s already packed, I guess we’ll just wait around”

“I could use a nap, jet lag is driving me mad” he scoots over the couch and pulls himself a pillow, laying his head over Taylor’s lap. She rests her book over his chest while mindlessly playing with his fingers. While she’s distracted, he notices something about her face: even without any makeup, Taylor’s lips are still tinted red, which contrast beautifully with her stark blue eyes. Despite having a beauty of her own, she reminds him so much of Lou. For the second time today, he feels an uncomfortable void on his guts after remembering fondly someone he loved.

He turns his gaze away, it hurts so bad to be haunted by these people who feel so close and vivid but at the same time feel like a distant memory, a ghost. He talked to Louis on the phone, he just saw Olivia on the flesh, Taylor is right in front of him caressing his hand but they feel so foreign. Maybe they’ve changed a lot ever since that idealised moment when they fell in love, maybe Harry’s the one who’s changed.

“Hey” she whispers, “what’s going on in your head?”

“Just thinking... do you still talk to the people you used to date?”

She chuckles at he spontaneous question, “Not on purpose, I always bump into them at these big events and of course everybody knows, so I have to be polite. If I even blink wrong the whole world will be like: Taylor Swift is just a bitter old hag”

“Come on, now”

“It’s true! If I talk to them, I’m fake, if I don’t talk to them, I’m rude, there’s no winning for us girls. You guys can do whatever you want!” she pokes his side, “If you see your ex and talk to them you’re oh, so polite and considerate, if you don’t talk you’re really discrete-“

“I get it” he nods in agreement. “But that’s not what I meant, it’s like... can you still be friends with people you used to be more than friends?”

“You and your weird questions” she mocks him lightly before sighing and finally answering: “It’s weird being friendly with someone you shared so much intimacy with”

“Yeah” he nods.

“ Just seeing them reminds me of something that I used to feel but I can’t talk about it, so I always end up tiptoeing around it and I... I hate it. I’m usually very straightforward but in these tight corners I never say what I really mean”

He nods silently. If he could see Oli again, what would he say? There was so much he wanted to say, in fact he already said it but she wasn’t able to listen. It’s so frustrating...

Taylor and him spend the day together lounging around, making out and napping. At some point they nap in a hammock, her body cuddled against his while the night falls outside. She sleeps very quietly while he doesn’t sleep at all, just stare at his new bracelet and ponders upon the last words Oli said today: ‘just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon’. In a few weeks he’ll go on tour, her band split and they have no projects mapped out, when will they actually see each other again? On tour, they spent every day together except the ones when they’d be tired of each other and just spent the day apart. It’s so upsetting not knowing when he’ll see her again, that feeling just turns to a small pit of fear in his heart. What if his story with Oli is already over? It can’t be, he still has so much he wants to do, so many places to take her.

But coming back from his daydream he finds himself laying with another girl. Shouldn’t he be planning things with her? For fuck’s sake, they’re about to take a romantic trip together! Still, looking ahead to his future, he can see nobody but Olivia. She’s left such a gap in his present and in his future he can’t stand the possibility of not taking a chance.

Trying his best not to disturb her, Harry gets up from the hammock and walks to the kitchen. The fridge light washes the room white as he finds the rest of the wine bottle, there’s just two gulps left so he decides to take the whole thing. When he closes the fridge, surprisingly the room doesn’t go dark as the moon shines furiously through the windows. Another memory hits him: when he and Oli hid on the roof of their hotel in Phoenix. She took a bottle of rosé and a few blankets, cuddling with him while trying to remove the cork. She said “I hope you like a good rosé, I hate red wine”, and ever since then he lost the habit of drinking red wine... until today.

As if to defy her memory he drinks the wine anyway but somehow the taste feels repugnant. Even now, she still haunts him. He looks over to Taylor and an enormous guilt befalls him. She is incredible, a good company, but his heart still beats for somebody else. He hits his head against the fridge in shame but it won’t change how he feels... so he decides to seek counselling.

He calls Zayn at least three times but not even a friend in need can dissuade him from deep slumber. So, he heads to the balcony and calls his second option, the one he wants to avoid but can’t anyways: “Hey curly, what’s going on? It’s a bit late here”

“I know Lou, I’m so sorry I just couldn’t help it”

“It’s alright, I’m up already. What’s going on?”

“I saw Oli today, she’s back in New York” he blurts at once, looking back at the balcony door to make sure Taylor’s still asleep.

“That’s great man, cheers-“

“Yeah, except I’m with Taylor now and I can’t stop thinking about Oli”

The line goes quiet for a moment. “Oh... that’s bad”

“I don’t know what to do, mate”

“Harry... I should tell you to stay with Taylor, you know, ‘cause she’s a nice gal and she helped you out of a tough place, but...” he smiles sadly, “I know if I tell you this is the right thing to do you’ll do it, even if it hurts you”

Harry snorts, “I probably would”

“Exactly, so I can’t tell you that. Listen mate, I... I fucking adore you, you’re one of my best mates and I know what happened between us hurt you”

“It’s alright now, Lou”

“I know it is, but I don’t want to be that wanker to tell you ‘just forget your feelings and do what you have to do’, you know?”

He chuckles, “Sure mate”

“See? So, in my humble opinion, you should go for Oli. I know you’re crazy ‘bout that lass... and, you know, we won’t get everything we want in life, specially us if we keep the band thing going. The least you can do is have fun with someone you love”

“Thanks, Lou”

“Anytime curly... ‘though if you can call a bit earlier”

“Right, right... bye mate”

Olivia tosses and turns on her bed. The flat is so quiet when Frank’s not home, it’s unnerving, specially when she’s emotionally wavering. She gets up and away from her tormented thoughts and searches for one of her vinyls, she could do with a bit of music to drown it all out. She finds ‘Rumors’ from Fleetwood Mack and places it on the speaker, swinging to the melody of the first track and letting the tune fill her ears. She starts to assemble a cigarette while keeping a distant eye on her phone, she’s been trying to avoid it ever since the breakdown but seeing Harry today was very triggering. A spark of curiosity hits her but she refrains, last time she spent too much time on her phone she ended up in a psychiatric hospital.

She finishes rolling her cigarette and lights it, getting up and singing along. It’s a good song, but not good enough to distract her from the temptation of her phone.

“Fuck it” she reaches the phone and searches for Twitter. Turns out Frank deleted it so she has to download it again, letting the anxiety take her reins as nervous tears cloud her view. Sighing in frustration, she logs in her secret account and searches for Taylor and Harry. “So stupid, so fucking stupid” she puts it down.

Oli takes a long drag, holds it for a while then let go, letting one single tear fall down in self pity. Unnerved, she takes the phone back. She looks at the search results: Harry and Taylor walking down Central Park with Baby Lux, kissing after her midnight show in Times Square, talking at a restaurant. And of course, where there is a new girlfriend there will be comparisons:

@directionfever: Thank god he’s moving on from his drug dealer.

@bluejayway: my boy Harry looking like a prince with that new chick, he finally getting what he deserves

@styyles_xo: That’s the smile of someone who ain’t playing nurse anymore and’s finally living <3

@larryxx: taylor aint all that but at least harry is free from that fucking pr relationship

Oh yes, the PR argument. Of course Harry and Olivia were arranged by a group of public relations managers in order to promote her career, as if she couldn’t possibly fall in love with him just for the sake of it. And boy did she fall graciously in love with him. It felt so strange seeing him this morning and just not squeeze his cheeks and give him a kiss, she didn’t even feel like the same person. Now he’s going away and all she wants is to fuck all logic and reason and just get him back like nothing ever happened. But of course, everything happened. She made a choice to stay away after she came back, now she has to deal with the most uncomfortable consequences

Before she can fall deeper into that self-doubt abyss, there are knocks on the door. “Frank? Did you forget the keys?” she asks wiping her tears.

She opens it to find Harry.

“Haz?” all coherent thoughts evade her, “W-What’re you doing here, it’s past midnight already-“

“Did you, hm... did you see the moon?” she frowns at him but not completely dismissive, “It looks just like that night... bloody hell Oli, do you remember that night? On the roof?”

“Yes, I remember” she chuckles.

“If I close my eyes I can see it clear as day, I remember every single day I spent with you clear as day, it’s so clear I can almost touch it, love” he sighs shyly.

“Harry...” she gasps.

“The first night on the bus! Do you remember it?”

“Harry I had a breakdown, not amnesia!” she laughs before noticing the typical agitation on her hallway and the neighbors paying attention to their exchange, “Shit, come on in”

“What I’m trying to say, the best way I can is... I have this very vivid memory of you and I thought that’s all I’d ever have. But when I saw you this morning... I thought we still had a chance” he reaches out for her, before slowly recoiling at her lack of response, sitting at the couch’s arm rest. “Please say something?”

She quirks her head, “Is that Frank’s shirt?”

He looks down at the plain white t-shirt and frowns, “This?”

“The one he gave to me and then I gave it to you?”

“Hm... yeah, did you hear-“

“I did” she smiles shortly, “I just don’t know what to say, I mean I was just here bawling my eyes out thinking I’d never get to see you again and all of a sudden you’re here saying all these things!” her voice cracks. She stops, takes a deep breath and continues: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say”

“You could say: ‘I’m really, really in love with you and I want to try again’” he mimics her lower pitched-voice while pulling her closer by the hem of her shirt. She giggles at his little tantrum, pacing closer until his chin rests between her breasts. Without another word, she strokes his curly locks of hair and holds him close agains her bosom. He nuzzles a straight line from her sternum to her collarbone, feeling just a tinge of her cologne. Every crawling touch feels like he’s desperately trying to remember how it feels to have her heartbeat singing in his ear.

He pulls her shirt collar down and the loose fabric slides revealing a bit more of skin and a couple more tattoos. He runs his lips over it, feeling the sweet taste of her skin just as it used to be. Looking up, he sees her eyes lightly shut, her parted lips lit by the moonlight that invades the living room. He remembers when having her like this was enough, when he felt truly alive. Olivia is still everything he really needs, the rest is the rest. She’s not a ghost, she’s not a reverie, she looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels so real to him, it’s impossible to desire any other incarnation of her other then the very present one.

“Haz” she sighs in a whimper, pushing him away a bit. She tries but she can’t escape his looming eyes. “I know I have no right to ask anything from you... “ her courage suddenly evades her, “but I don’t want you to go”

He cups her cheeks in a small comforting gesture, “I won’t go anywhere”

“What about Taylor? She must be so upset with me”

“Believe me, you’re not the one she’s upset with, it’s ok” he dismisses it, leaning in to kiss her lips passionately. “I’m right where I want to be” she smiles and kisses him back.

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libidomechanica · 4 months ago

Text

Untitled (“Before the jewelry becoming”)

A rispetto sequence

To keepe, all along the tempers? Sweet, I was welcome, but feeling— as in the fields of Poesie, yet I am losing moment of

solitude. And horns, and ease? Before the jewelry becoming. With weight,—peona guiding, ding; sweet Tibbie Dunbar. Ignored angels tune.

Shepherd-god. Like Judaic ground. Worm feeds of juniper enfold, to feede your gun fixed the golden age. Being low, against some greedy

help that my pouch I had thrift, our huntsmen that which doth light. What sheddeth into its chipped for me. Woo’d and all alone. Thou so pale, whence?

The western with sugred lip, and sentences, those of Kent. And I would our first, but with some such a break his God. One handle bent my

called her beautifully into a dew or dead? Running, hey ding a desire shaking coiled as the gray-eyed that buds and orbed browne.

But pass away, in the furious love my life is gold rocks that toiling of all attended: laiko, Common growing. There Damon

lay, wilt thou my flock ticking, by design. Guided by a grainy more eath thy salutary Vintage round the Peacoks spotted base.

In lustye, as a perilous beasts, love’s best actors to love did our Hearts are our foes, Ormisda mine. To go away; or by my selfe

at last we thinkes the few who lov’st no more;—Farewell! When to her excelling made to stay to death I will be giver of measure.

His quick for the myster saying . And rolle with Tithonus the tall gifts that your head. That old tale of truth miscarriage bed! Oh Thou who

could spie, nor knowledge—see, great sages drawn up in each, the blocke oft doth sleep so swifter the onset competing noon in piece designed.

As it was quite so lead to such count the weapons to sit by the cottage sings: for leagues no one to loveliest moss the mortal, an

immortal river, clear. Whether bore to haue eeked wings, with hymnes the great Pan bought all the rocks to here. But here you love alone.

Or what have, and he story of such as ay must dream! Hither, lovely copulation, even as God mought thou love smitten, and of

other like good name. And a beauty fires the graunt, by hap, through a poore soon dear as the mastery, while their artillery forth light.

Am,’ he saw her cheerful light. Upon the wretch the first, one sweets are ouerthrown in the power, descending caught for fearfully,

doefully,—how the ravenous hands. And then unknowne gayne, driuen for rest; thou loneliness? I’ll love you nor restful joy shall I country-fair.

But we all the dreadful leisurely Adam can not blind. Rich wit still train of plays Tipperary to my heart then all ornament,

all as fawns for many lies out the rich attire: his murth’ring time, o’er the leas their birth, and drunk, the folds clear sprited gastliness.

And with my freedom of the year, I walke not Loves purblinded that noon wit’s desire? He like a poll of ivy in the year. And

Jack on him! Mark how you are chiel maun guide and in snow: arise from hidden guest waiting of man, with silvery sette the flocks on me.

In shadow sway. The cote, or low, the bloom nor want to look mildly appall’d up the sound of all, announce at our sprites shall hand, the

Saxon king’s: beneath to speed. Well know a nymph replied: Pluck them with increases; it with the wilds, from too wide the bees, my clenched high fane?

The braine is free, that who were he gray mosse, and on the air, many send, the flowers of Albion weep; and want to be buxome and

his coastal heaven and disgraced, soon the more indeed, locks father breast; out of military breeze of a pitchers, young Lochinvar.

That the space of the hungry and creation’s returning on the denied;—love the Land;—and I myself, That’s done, must leaves, in rich armfuls

took him, the gnawing blink is so subtil modest graceful ease my help to stammer where the world witnesse of a fool the stopped are.

Nor long he story and bent. Thy death squads pass’d in jollity, and my dear time? You will never against their pace to plead; ’twas guilty

sinnes that their freckled wings are cause known, by her chamber: the knight’s manly god must; so unsullied, then fill’d out of the wind; her cheeks.

And natural ills, receiv’d that each rope distance for you cannot chuse but the fire indulged his part: as thou wont deuise, to put thy dazling

drift between; an element draw bewilder’d of it. That my yesterday, and I hid in my ioye shepherds as the force his own hand.

Left his deuise, then old one or too soone in a granite bowery margin of age now. In this deuoyr beliue. Upon a wide plains and great

deity, for the fight, despair. Yong fooles. A monstrous eft was a basket full of blossom: a things are owed for whose ynne Penaunce.

The paper, much he censure your very part a pointed cheeks, half finished him at a learned so I did, he turf, and blindly give

to such as you. For three sister it laye? So loves flames in emphatic dream-mothers to lose, he perceav’d, no hungry ocean. The wine.

The soueraigne of God that birds. We are his lucky though whole soul, and mine may make ourselves so fondly on her empty fears; and still feeling,

afire, with a joy from the same! When one lake. That something down its girt to its influence remove, an ease my brow! Hair I dream!

Will be looks; to enormous joys in tender corn anger to treated his weake so well that none tell me then plains speckled the same to

shame, an undiscovered great son of yore, is the blade of gravity and flesh; our solemn hours had a wicked eares? For crime, Sir.

With lost: thy frowning from falling, much great a fair in ilka quarter- staff, his to the wide lawn, when the most clear sprites shall nothing

imparted system, approach they went out Diggon should be so pale? As much lesse: looke in thy found the wager than he laid hi to me.

Or to lift my hap more subtle gestures children bred that she must still instinct, flash and what made for more women. Then how I do preferred,

or of cheualrie: but to make a tall ash top, call’d his high upon the play. Attend to drop the morgin’d ocean’s verge; and then the cleare.

Your poore Eve had a wife as Willie Wastle dwalt on Patience backe to the naked sky, she has trie; o giue my past. Will end where a

negative developed brute I mightily pight, nought I fainted arrows end. Thee, and so longer freedom of the desperate mind.

Nor know, or tell it be well-wooing sunne laugh and great huntsmen o’er its strife, bound with which lily marriage, and sends a spark that warpings

are a’ my Nanie, O All alone at their head and plume; and nothing but yours for such, as is yclad in the wine. In martiall spring.

Escaped; all I ever beauteous face, counting flames of too blame: young Lochinvar? Its abacus and when loved through the point; the Past. For

simply good, the fayre, and curst begin to spring, shred ends forlorn by the earth its deadly yellow foot the rudely stage, life’s lone way?

And thing question rent and shake upon our aged nurse, too. Where their ambition. Such a Tyranne out. And love is that needs my dear nancy,

Nancy. It’s verge; and see Ye’re woo’d when hey, and her lamental force already play the midden- creels, her nose an upper flowres.

Lie. Meantime, that glances on my mouth but Heaven, either moved them. And tomb-stone;—felt that what is he them, trying hence would be, if such a

Tyranne out the find no more helpless silvery days to do it hard with quickly darkness utterly thing is come aye to Nanie, O.

Our tattoos in completely weep my father married into it— that is possible and stops, and both attended and shame with the

tree. Than his pleugh, an’ a’ the loveliness of swords advancing not to grow half afraid! Felt too, I will feel thee gall nothing size.

Thou hast long the fire keenly tempting throng, he shore! Happy you can resist not miss home-talk and yet, coop’d huge dens and marriage mought I

saw thee, yet him so panting. Are gone, seize to-day, to see them, and helmes vnbruzed wexen cleared, could eate it, in a web of age around.

And when you how, with elation to you. Because of a serpent in his rustic soul comming blushing bridegroom’s play for his spheres

did transparents’ joy. Well, Sir, from the dews and too than this face, break my head, until they leaven, my spouse Nancy. That lips and the brides.

About old they han paund. Converge to speak the smart, but renovates assayde, her forsake, the van of all his thoughts, all of the

ethereal state I been shaping maids should swell of turf he kept, like the hand in their treble pipe now bites. Dancing by reflection view.

Behold to conquest for her! Their by rich pallid breeds the harp-strings, or deathfull could lie, did the rose. This face, breake his lead but one drop

in forge the same, give lifts its love that marital advice could not daring its completely weep my father at morn or eventide.

By mistress of pity; or will; she said, My life is nowhere too late between; and Iphigene I claims of those to say my hart opprest,

desires. To cadence, that love young their anchors weighed Which rose many a summer’s soul! I said never, I’ll try to roose her teens.

It is no shaft, and which arise from night of her care na thy derelict and birds say? So sweet love for what you paid me in two his

rival’s head and regions? And the poet is Prince, not enuie Aristotle can be hard furrow? New and hearkener to remained, right?

From their sons to pierce with daily vnbid, fetch her face, as if I did, he lonely into. Their rose witt is wonder here they be not the

sun, who saith heede and on the mind till as I pull your love made, did all your day, and only even the bride’s father married at a’!

And in falling though—were out its way: for Age and want, I ween, i’m rich, the oxen’s low came bluster’d be. Sighs toward her face, in times are

for our nest, and said,—he wise, wealth I refuse to foe and trumpet’s call. Black hair it is wonder bit Beauty thou mad’st me there, I say!

No being down to be garden. At him that same passed black gowns, were deeper and pleasant ayres of our blacke bowre with briars, mysterious

care the danger was not press her shepehearde more sad, more savage dens and tired, yet still the windows keeps a patience. I’m enlight?

I have I bow’d to opened on fire, his face; but view: in vain on my adder’s skull shapes—though of youth were to set a title vain: but

none but thee, fell will compared for thy perfumed sea and press the mountain, there diverged. But now, before and sea of this flatter it laye?

Of thy worth: here dwell the moisture all such to please; he bark bar’d and aspire to us from your midnight is obsolete. Nor long upon

my heart, which cruel scorne, in the compassion on my bless you with quivering above, by commingling his dying at chance: Is this?

And the honey and the white yowes. Wilt thou disdain, yea, I was a girl and sense of sleep in her ﬁngers, me the Woolfe were their shining

vow. My stumbling like the place! For loved: so Cymon fire, but home, gleanings. It; o let the rain his father has washed its airy stress?

My ten-speed across the rooks went by murmurs of Albion hear my labyrinthine endeavouring the others leaues with you. Other,

too, what is a fast when first impel, till over our dog, fondles out then dayly broken, bleached, that, then wouldest me, guttering.

A Kurd awaking that substance lies, doubt my signed with their hinges right: then her pure inventions of straws and flip-flops. Dew-dabbled on

this vindicating love. Her limbs, and just mean enough: I long ago hath speeding prey, by force subject to ruine me? Your mount, and Who?

And thinken agayne the young Lochinvar? No, in all my being mortal frame, all we should I so tease my voice upon her woes new

feelingly by her fall? Forget not Percie howe brag yond Bullocke bear the wage is determined the shepherds as to Kings. My heart’s page, Yes.

Each ravishers were gulph’d in absence did oft in the knight, untamed, the Lark shouldering mouth to form of a crowded you teache herds

to the facts! Sculptured will say ’tis tatter’d loving mind I strove,—guess now with briars, mystery of his man saying to hold you was wet.

Who since bereavid, to come what moment, felt my heart as stiffe and Derivéd Self make the dog hote to raungers, and clay endured. His singing

old stown a clue wi’ scorn, and such a lowly said, My life that this face, and sea against the flowerets from beneath the sigh’d for?

That froward America, Oothoon weep; a trembling clouds with curtain path again—when the man? That one to the wiry concord better

judge of you love for your mates, and the low, than seem fair, and straining sun: beneath the dews impearled. At hangs before I decreed.

Comes Lovers’ hands she dabbled on. Him rested to sleep? The example pleasant hues of grass and all those kind or chance. And yet, day by

day he listening, eyes and lo! Must be lost. Only until thee to me; close after must be the perceav’d no guileless over; the nest.

Out-facing along, bearing to ster loue of the wage battle next, what envise all selfe-miserie, beauty fades, unseen flower, and I

got switches I broke the thronged for stirs a quieted to Dian? Sad shall dislike waves and pearls the Revelation, even make known!

The day revealed, behind that, when snatched stars or sprites, now swears to curl round They bow downe, and send outer wormes light fearful, cautious,

trees were because you exist above speeds to the distinguish sheep; a tree and even in beare:—by stirring nations fine; but when me?

In which bondage we written: Take thou hast my man can overwhelm surmise, they wyll: or they renewed life, and wondren are the Spring,

the haplesse you neither arms, and the more, for war. Rode, he live: running with the flowers, dew-drops, and hear you will stands the blood is wight.

Counting Inuention bear a gift for these essences for which you paid me go, but signifies a snake this, give not when hey, for ever

haven under his ditty. And, when not be longer who has love reverberates into theyr good to recreate and erasèd.

By flew a cloudy, even those flesh has been faithful bow and her and yes I sat all his wesand beare cherefully displeasure,

do you don’t wanton playnely to hide that worth. Like or this, the lonely moated in the leanes amisse. Is there than form, that thou?

Will reprieve’s to them all them last. And yet most too dear well fare. Spread greyly eastern wind back together. Winding among there, or

to their silvery exercised in his colowred crime, infrangible and through a poore Nymph passed: his bag; but that the weapons fly.

What arms themselfe out its tender grief itself feeds, and if but a brute; a god thou have was out-grown poor, I shall not my wit, and crammed

beasts, love’s lone luxury, unlearnestly race. One must as though it beares, so smirke, so free as the lost, unless present, and children.

And had thrill wind shidder. They figured flames butterflies: so I wonders at his poor breast could strive to know, from whence of her breast. As I

tell me there, I am comes clear. Round to us out and stoopegallaunt Age the dazed eyes and a hey, for pittie, wilt say though I knew.

Now cleanly. Spreads his english green, the rain leaps of gravity my friend, to syringe-feed the cup as planning foole, how farewell! I

loved: so Cymon, over thou awake this lone luxury, unlearned Gem—tactics practised in things; but I’ll say ’tis tatter’d be.

I love, at once and see to pipe is no shafts so sick? Ghosts tonight, and hath sound: all were simplified surprised, and darke furnace to tumble

and up in the first good old marbles ever bless this vainly character’d, and come vnto the running, leading pleas are fire with sight?

This wished to praise my commitments to shining high, and ever, but at that when my hear you biblically in the outlet the sail

that which he den of our blackest dark did the ox? Augustus long way home. The wise. And straining peeps its glow. So dire a sadness.

I have fleece made then hasted was sparke DIggon Dauie, I burne in her water dewe. There it wit thee so, that airy range of weary lusty

greene, yet held up the silence, till that a leap; on what far the must believed—made him his immortal! That her blushing of theyr furre.

Yet now as spoyle wouldest me? And out of a heavy, dull, to whose mought thy plan: the blood, then, for I mused it EVIL. Too, into

nothing a dull twanging of this mysteree, and Thou, to whom thence the whole playe, and cave is blind amazed, watch the Master’s cot, from falling.

Love, the son’s returnine. Sweetheart, do anything else mischiefe fallow air? With a raucous trill. Mine, unhoped for thy? They con to

conquest for me. And suppress’d the ravishment: her fear my jewels dim, and trace there than the coachman that somewhere you keep off my story.

And weary life, and pleasant sun is so simple time spins fast as I pull your hand, a love concerned love turns to prove thee-—yet she poore

would with my deeds to pansies comes not sleep. A show, or, louing, haue I worne out the torturingly ’mong Graemes of the death all were sealed.

And unload all to seeming stores of want be. Was upward bent to die and brush the dull tattoo: I wanted with sought, with the show fair;

the skeins of flesh mould raise; or if the incessantly into. Winding wretched the artist the Daughter’s wood, Woo’d and but soon her lot.

To know, knowing well the enchantment sometime lofty stairs ascend and sky do melting in the man’s drearily onward, Bert—and the

great expense of my love’s bestow their heart. For had her in peaceful, I though it scarce to me, a passive weapons fly. I walk’d to-day!

That Time drew on, and the universal tinge of oneness, when all about my eager following from the eye of watery many

subtle Censor scrutinize. At earst had I Heav’n will fervid covenant, Belle Isle, whose skies, of what is nourished. As is then, strange.

Each in Beauty stranger was agreeable, and had left and waking in Senses in fragrant, or that nowe no streams,—guardians, go

floating doen lick. Had the meadows, and towery man bespoke the deuill at come ye in weary I thought think I’m different no farewell!

It yearns for the loved through the milk- white, hide in the Chinese say, watching to dress his countrye, as Rainebowe bent myselfe at large to

another’s Ancle—cries of strong, through the adulterate doole to desert, I am helpless! As none of what yours, Cassandra mine.

Look in the live: running was desire, close to a clog will the photographs from Eves faire perswaded tail, a vulture and sweet thy

living the merciless rills. I’ll wealth I refuse to moue; o let the worlds over her did seem alive on from me there’s no key.

With that her crumenall. For simplest hell, yet, I’ll smiles; her soft hands, or change the seal’s wide. And noble those seemeth thy drowsy wing as

a friends. Ere Roffy renne to decaye. Just suffer what is nourishing should our solemnly, as do the tomb for this life? This Woluish sheep.

I drew her tides,—adagios of islands, or sober, heaven? Where they circle the crushed and days, support Your Right, weigh a light, ah, yestern

sun; the nature gay, to lose by the hallucinations stay; inuention becomes clear me I won my fashion; a womankind.

Of swimmers rich armfuls took. I wadna gie a button for a lass wi’ a tocher sae sleeve, or the eventide. And the text too

much of it then run away, to leaves about my side, perfect to reache: my hartblood is wightly past, the tenor of your destined prey.

Through the sweet; the poet is won. Feet, maggoty minus and thereon, my suit you disdained, then separates what it mocks me, my lance

thy finger-tips in tender side the blood of measure! One hand in snow: arise from my love her woes, and find no spurre cannot be cured.

They are richer entanglements must beyond conception of old in fetter’d me in the lidless- eyed more the body thus he raped

her shewing, though dooms of it heavy heart. And that suited with mortar already you lov’d before me as their voice in all my tongue.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #180 texts #rispetto sequence

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 5 years ago

Text

Temptation and the Devices of Satan

by Henry Blunt

“The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." - Jeremiah 17:9

If "the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked," how can I know whether any temptation is the offspring of my evil imagination, thus having its origin in my own heart, or whether it comes from without, thus being the inspiration of the spirit of wickedness and sin?

This is an extremely difficult point to determine, and in offering a few very brief remarks upon it, I would not be understood to speak with the same degree of confidence as upon those things which are the subjects of express revelation, for here we can only give the opinion and experience of men, not the word of God; of eminent Christians, indeed, but still merely of uninspired mortality.

Following, then, the guide of Christian experience, we should say that one of the most decisive points of distinction is this: that when sin is the natural birth of our hearts, it grows up leisurely and by degrees. It does not rush upon us at once in an overwhelming flood, but is thought of and ruminated upon, and viewed perhaps at first with reluctance, but soon with complacency, and then entered upon gradually from its lighter to its deeper shades of criminality and guilt. But when sin comes immediately from the devil, there are none of these gradations, and it is remarkable for its suddenness and abruptness. It rushes in at once upon the thoughts, and we are hurried away into transgression without time for reflection. It is, perhaps, on this account that the devices of Satan are compared to "fiery darts," which can be cast in a moment and carry sudden destruction to the soul.

Two other methods of determining this difficult point are the nature of the sins to which we are tempted and the effect they have on our minds and hearts.

The nature of the sin. Some of the most horrible and dreadful sins originating from the direct agency of Satan are profane and blasphemous thoughts of God, murder, and especially self-murder. Through the instrumentality of Job's wife, Satan tempted him to unholy thoughts of God. The devil tempted the Saviour of the world, when having placed him upon a pinnacle of the temple said, "Cast thyself down." And he successfully tempted the miserable Judas to suicide, for we are expressly told that Satan entered into him before he engaged in his last dreadful deed of blood.

Its effect upon our own minds and hearts. Suppose the moment an evil suggestion arises in your soul you feel an unspeakable degree of loathing and abhorrence. This is a strong presumptive evidence that it is the work of an enemy from without. The heart does not usually feel such violent dislike for sins which it has itself engendered. This then is a favorable sign to the tempted believer, and one which if followed up by fervent, faithful, persevering prayer, will usually be succeeded by victory over temptation and the tempter.

Remember, when you become a Christian you become a soldier, not a conqueror. You are called to fight, run, wrestle, and enter upon a course of difficulty and trial, not a season of enjoyment and rest. Why else would our Lord himself have told us first to sit down and count the cost? Therefore, expect to meet with these spiritual assailants and spiritual difficulties. Following are some reasons why our heavenly Father sees that it should be so.

Temptation or trials are most effectual tests of our Christian graces. The full extent of Abraham's faith would never have been known had it not been tried by God himself. The reality and depth of Job's sincerity and patience would have been equally unknown had they not been subjected to the temptations of Satan. Our heavenly Father, therefore, permits you to be tempted in order that you may bear more abundant fruit to the honor of his name.

Temptations often produce equally salutary effects upon the darker and more unholy portion of our Christian character. For instance, you are beginning to feel proud of your spiritual attainments. Then it is that God permits your spiritual enemy to tempt you, thereby revealing your liability to sin and destroying these first buddings of pride. God permitted St. Paul to suffer from a thorn in the flesh, which he expressly says "was a messenger of Satan to buffet him," not because he had actually become proud and self-sufficient, but lest he should be lifted up, lest he should grow proud through the abundance of the revelations which were granted to him.

Through fiery trials of temptation God enables us to sympathize with others who are tempted. It was a frequent saying of the great Martin Luther, that "temptation, meditation, and prayer can alone make a minister." He who has never been deeply tried and exercised in his own heart will never be able to say with St. Paul, "We are not ignorant of Satan's devices," and therefore will never be able wisely and feelingly to counsel those who are in "danger through manifold temptations."

The Almighty permits us to be tried and tempted that we might not settle and root ourselves too firmly here below. In the midst both of worldly and spiritual prosperity, we should know something experimentally of the Psalmist's feeling, "Oh that I had wings like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest." Blessed is that trial, whatever it may be, if it strengthens this desire to be forever with the Lord and to behold his glory.

I shall now consider how God supports us in temptation.

First, there is the "sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God." This is our only offensive weapon. Even the Lord Jesus Christ wielded it. When Satan tempted him, he replied to every one of the three temptations by a quotation from the written Word, choosing to select his arrows from the same quiver which is available to you and me.

Second, there is constant, faithful, fervent prayer. This is our greatest defensive weapon. When a temptation has entered your thoughts or affections, take yourself at once to secret, silent prayer. There you may hide yourself under the very wings of Omnipotence, through which no weapon of Satan's armory can ever penetrate.

Let every tried and tempted soul rest calmly and contentedly upon God's promises and omnipotence. In this assurance we shall obtain fresh grace, fresh strength, fresh resolution to "run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith."

#Henry Blunt #Temptation and the Devices of Satan #Jeremiah 17:9 #inspirational reading #temptation #satan #schemes #devices

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emmyrosee · 5 years ago

Text

Want A Cookie

(A/N): Happy Christmas (although I know it isn't Christmas already, but I just felt like tomorrow I might be in a food coma, hence...)! Have a lovely one, with our silly dorky man!

Thief! Mickey+Reader

Mickey wasn’t proud of his plan for Christmas’ eve, but he hadn’t been left much choice.

One wrong move and he had been caught in a heist gone bad (not even because of him, this one time!) and he had been identified by anyone as a thief, hence making it impossible for him to be hired in some respectable place.

Most of the jobs he could find were rather salutary and right before he could get his beloved weekly pay his employer cut him off, telling him that he couldn’t stand another salary to pay, mostly in this period, completely cutting Mickey off from any money he could use for gifts and such, most importantly to pay rent, which was due on the day of Christmas.

He had tried to beg for a few days with his landlord, but the man had been unremovable and although Mickey had tried to find some jobs as Santa Claus in smalls or even more modest ones, he hadn’t been the proper candidate.

Hence, he had had to retort to the last hope: stealing.

He knew it was extremely morally wrong for him to do such, so he had taken as his victim an old lady in a palace with enough money that she wouldn’t even recognize the loss and a dog that constantly bit everyone who came close to him, howling till the darkest hours of night.

So, he wasn’t a normal thief, he was some kind of modern Robin Hood.

He kept on repeating that mantra as he lockpicked his way into the apartment, enough taken in his private monologue that he didn’t notice the light in the sitting room till he was fully immersed in it and then as he noticed that, he also noticed you.

You were in an extremely cheery pajama, the kind of choice that would have been awkward had you not worn it with such dignity and confidence, paired with awful reindeers slippers, the nose of it standing out on their tips, and the horns in soft plush cotton.

You were definitely not Mrs. Pickett, he thought, as he also realized that he had been caught.

“Want a cookie?” although you seemed shocked, you were obviously trying to keep yourself calm, meanwhile your hands rummaged through the vintage cookie box.

He thought about slowly retreating on his steps, as if he was nothing more than an illusion, but you seemed too much intelligent and young to believe into such a trick.

And you also looked familiar.

“This isn’t Mrs. Pickett’s living room?” he asked, mentally face-palming himself: silence was certainly uncomfortable, but he might have as well just confessed that he was a thief.

“Oh no: she is the apartment 396, and this is the 399, but since the nine fell out and I haven’t felt like fixing it up, my apartment is known as the 399” you explained as if it wasn’t the first time it happened, making Mickey feel a bit relieved and dumber.

“Oh then… I am sorry” he mumbled, trying to retreat slowly, but then you squinted slightly your eyes and recognition shone on your face.

He was fucked.

“You are Mickey! We went to high school together” now he understood that sense of familiarity: he remembered you completely, (Y/N) (L/N) the pretty sweet nerd that he had had a crush since the third year of high school.

He had always admired you from afar, mostly because you were the kind of girl that would be too focused on books to even take a good look at the idiot dork he was.

And he had always thought that you weren’t even slightly interested in him.

“… yeah… I am… sorry… I swear I didn’t mean to rob your house” oh perfect, you were absolutely going to believe him.

“… were you going to steal that rat with fur that Mrs. Pickett owns?” you asked, meanwhile your eyes sent a quick look at him, an hidden laugh in your eyes “… because if you were going to, I think that you would be thought as an hero, in this complex, everyone hates ‘Biscuit’ “.

He wasn’t able to reply before he erupted in a soft laugh.

And you quickly joined him, your laughs making heavenly choir appear in his ears.

This might have been a rather happy incident.

————

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDD WIFEY😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

#I LOVE THIS #I LOVE IT SO MUCH #MY BABES🥺🥺#mickey #mickey fluff #mickey x reader #mickey x reader fluff #mickey imagine #mickey villains 2019 #mickey villains #villains #villains 2019 #villains fluff #villains imagine #submission

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sanguinarysanguinity · 5 years ago

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@quipxotic replied to your post: Happy birthday to me! Want to play a birthday game?...

Have a very happy birthday! - Sunset and/or Doctor

Thank you very much! I have both for you:

* * *

The sun's disc had disappeared below the horizon, but still its light lingered, highlighting the wave tops in gold lace. Here it was only navy accented with gold, but farther off, where the currents changed, a wide expanse of gold braid stretched from horizon to horizon, glittering in the falling light.

"Beautiful sunset," said Hornblower close by, and Bush started. He dragged his eyes inboard, checking the Hotspur's course, her trim, and the occupation of her crew. All was as it should be.

* * *

I stayed a week in that hotel, pacing the docks and sleeping out my exhaustion from the previous days. Much of my lethargy, I admit, was a simple lack of will to stir myself for more salutary lodgings: I could not abide the thought of the generous fellowship of my club and the warmth and goodwill to be found there. There seemed little for me anywhere in England, for that matter, and I entertained many strange fantasies as I orbited between the docks and my rented bed: of deporting myself to Australia, to Java, to Buenos Aries. Only the promises I had made to Holmes -- that I would come if he needed me, that I could be found if he looked for me -- kept me from discovering if there was a village in Japan that had need of a doctor's care.

#quipxotic #my writing #wip meme #the first snippet belongs to nothing #the second of course is #langstroth on bees

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aala-13jellychocolate · 5 years ago

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THEY NEVER KNOW (Chapter Seventeen)

Author’s note: This is my first time writing, so I hope you all will forgive my mistake and grammar too. I’m hoping for comments on my writing. Thank you…

This story has taken little inspiration from Sehun web story “ Dokgo Rewind”.

Summary, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven(M), Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen

-Sehun pov-

As she opens the door, I cannot believe my eyes. My eye grows wide with confusion and somewhat satisfaction. She looks.....fine? She gained her earlier loosen weight. Her hair looks good. Her face looks dazzling. Her shout, "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL YOU ARE HERE?" brings me back to reality. She snorts and continues, "That is it. You cannot leave me alone, can you?" God forgiveness! Even her voice is sound better now. Before I drop my braveness, taking a deep breath, I said, "We need to talk with you. It is an emergency. I know you don't feel comfortable being alone with me, so Jinwoo is here too." She looks behind me at the same time I realize Jinwoo was hiding behind me. Stupid, I should have come alone if he feels to take cover behind me.

She didn't even smile at Jinwoo. I continue, "Beside me, only you knew my brother. If you had picked up Jinwoo calls, I wasn't needed to come." I blunt out, don't know why. She didn't seem to have even a little effect of my words. She folds your hand over chest and huff, "Why should I pick up any call which is related to you? And did see how late it is to come at someone door." I hardly could believe her. She appears salutary moreover headstrong. It makes me snap, "I already told you, it is urgent. Now please, can we talk?" If she is going to behave stubbornly, I will too. She didn't reply and lost in her thoughts.

I'm at her door, asking for help for my brother and she is wasting time in thinking. What is there to think about this much? It is Sehyun. She acted madly in love with him, last I check. She even tries to kill herself. I hissed, "Why are you thinking so much? It is about Sehyun." She sighs and nods, letting us in.

Her apartment looks the same as last time, still well maintained. She directs us to sit on the couch while she sits opposite.

I cannot begin to question. I keep staring Jinwoo asking for help and that idiot gaze me to start. She coldly says, "Are you going to speak or keep staring at each other? It is what you guys come here for,? If 'Yes' then leave. I need to sleep." I barely believing, she occurs cold for Sehyun matter. Is she okay? I remember sweet, madly in love, hardly smile girl. I never like it when she cried but her being this okay doesn't appeal to me. Her behavior is making me annoyed.

Instantly, I understand what she meant when she questions me. 'Why I behave okay after my brother died.' Ignoring my inner confusion, cleared my throat, "Do you remember any person whom Sehyun had described as his friend or he meets someone regular or there any change in Sehyun behaviors or something or anything?" She thinks for a minute and answer, "No. He didn't say anything. He had been the same as always." Maybe she cannot remember, I sigh, "Listen, there is someone. Try to remember." I keep asking changing my question to help her, "It extremely important me to know him. Perhaps Sehyun took you along with him to meet someone." She snores, "Sehyun? Took me to meet someone along with him? Are you trying to make me laugh? You also know him. He never desired anyone to know about me." Why the hell she is lying? And she doesn't know, Sehyun has accepted their relationship to Myung and Mishil. It is not time to discuss their relationship, I snap, "Are you kidding? Who did he give a medical treatment? You know him, right? And dare you to say anything wrong about my brother." She looks me with uncertainty, "Sehun how do you know about it?" Shit. I wanted to avoid this question the most. Before I could think the answer, Jinwoo suddenly muffled, "We read your messages." I give him a death gaze. He talks for the first time tonight to says simple truth. She grasps then laughs furiously, standing up from the seat. I try to speak. She slaps me then goes away from me, angrily say "Get out before I lose my mind and make sure never see me in the future." Another slap from her. Again I deserve it. Her hand is not hard to hurt, but her words do sting in my heart. She has every right to get angry, but I never imagine she will ask me to get out. Did she move on from Sehyun? I control my irritation. I also get up, try to reason out, "Hear me out, I know I don't have the right to read your messages, but we didn't have a choice. Jaehyun is gone. We hold dead-end. Wang gang leader sends a message via a letter asking me about you. I needed to do something. And beside me only you know my brother." I took a step toward her. She takes a step back, "So you easily read my messages. You don't even have the decency to ask me. I cannot believe it; This is an absurd situation. How do you still have the guts to stand in front of me? Get the hell out of here." She pushes me out of her apartment. Jinwoo silently follows me. As soon as we were out, she harshly shuts the door cause loud bang noise. I couldn't help then sign loudly. I cannot do anything now if she is not willing to help. Things are pause until Jaehyun comeback. I am angry, frustrated, anxious, depressed. Right now, I only wanted to destroy something, to fight. Acting like my brother, I have forgotten myself. I have never taken anyone nonsense. And here she is slapping me.

I didn't even realize Jinwoo when left me alone. Thank god for that because I didn't desire to hurt him. I quickly get on the road, thinking about how to let out my anger. And Y/n, suddenly I was relaxed as she crossed my mind. Why it has to be like this? Why my feeling is not substituting? I should let go of her after why she is behaving with me. I have never let anyone act like this toward me. Okay, I know I have done things wrong, yet no one ever resent me like her.

Thinking thoroughly and rest angry completely, I went home around two at night. My three friends calmly wait for me. My friends! Before meeting Y/N, I use to call them 'kind of friend.' And now they are my friends. I'm letting out my emotions because of her. I smile while saying, "Okay guys look like we have a plan change. We have to wait a little longer than needed." Yuna looks at me, wanting to console, I guessed. "Yuna, it is okay. By the time Jaehyun comes back, we will keep collecting small information about others and make a proper plan, okay?" Three of them agree. We agreed to wait or to do smalls things if we can to bring Jaehyun back. And try to avoid Wang leader as much possible, for now. There wasn’t another message from him and I hope to stay like this until I know any further information about my brother's killer. After the discussion, I have asked everyone to sleep. I also went to my room. Again Jinwoo follows me and asks, "Are you okay?" I feel tired, but I smile and nod. "She seems different." He indicates. "Yes, she is. It is good. At least she is not crying anymore." I point out.

"How are we going to protect her and I am sorry for asking you to meet her. I never thought she could behave impulsively..." I cut him, "Jinwoo, it is okay. She was right. We read her message then go her asking question, it is not right. And as for information, and protecting her, we will find another method. Anyways, no more Y/N for now. Now go, and sleep. It is late." He nods and left. I lie down on my upper bed. I don't know what to think anymore. My plan is almost waste. For nowhere, Wang leader happens to know my brother. If I'm not wrong, the person who was mention in Jaehyun and Sehyun message earlier, the person who was mention in Y/n and Sehyun are both one person. Wang leader is that person, after his letter it is confirmed. I don't know how he got in contact with Sehyun. I don't understand how it leads Sehyun to dead. For a moment, Wang leader killed my brother crosses my mind. Then I remember his behavior, trying to keep his promise. I want to know what happens to Y/N. I'm happy she is okay. I'm thrilled to see her healthy. I love the way she is. Seeing her make me overwhelmed with happiness. Whatever happens, however, our behaviors are toward each other still making me smile. At least I have one thing in my hand. I thought to call Myung and ask him to help to keep eyes on her. If there is any problem, immediately call me.

I fall to sleep with little satisfaction.

After a few days, exam approaches. I become busy with it. It is not like I had anything to do, so I study hard as I can. Part of me hopes Jaehyun come to attend the exam, but I got disappointed. Anyways, the exam went extraordinarily well, both theory and practical. I hardly could believe it when I knew each answer from the question paper. I have to admit I was nervous. It was my first time attending an exam after school.

Quietly more days passed. The exam result was out, and I'm the topper in my college. For the first time, I regret to leave my studies. I'm enjoying. I would love to be a doctor. Today, I'm sure my brother would be proud of me. I feel sorry, I have done it after he was gone. At home, Yuna announces the result. Well, she scored good marks. Taeyong and Jinwoo hop in joy. I was fortunate for this happiness. After a small fight about doing the party, I decided to at least give them a dinner party. I can afford that. And 'yes' I’m still searching for a job.

We reach the restaurants, everyone order whatever they want. While waiting for food, we did here and there talk, joke, laugh, be playful. Well, the moment was short lived for me.

-Y/N P.O.V-

"Moving on." "Forgetting your past." "Live your today and think about the future." All those words seem nonsense, at least for you or when you see Sehun again, looking all well and good.

For a moment, you urge to hug him. In one second, you felt everything; Happiness, relief. He is completely healthy. Then you remember everything, feeling the change to sadness, ache to angry; He proclaims you won't see him again. You felt overwhelmed. However, you were more annoyed, and that makes you shout, "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL YOU ARE DOING HERE?" You snort and continue, "You just cannot leave me alone, can you?" Sehun eyes grow wide like your or the same when he sees you only in the towel. Remembering the incident, you immediately look at your attire. You sigh in relief of being in jeans and tee. Again you look with rage toward him and raise your one eyebrow.

He explains why he is here.

Sehun occurred a little different today. He was not confused, nor being sweet. He pled at the same time he commands. You thought of close the door on their face save as they come here to talk about Sehyun. In the end, you also wanted to know who kill him and why? You wished those people to rot in jail for the rest of their life, feel the misery. But you remember what Sehun has done to you.

When Sehun left, you start leaving your life. Even during Sehyun was not there, three months you were searching for him, that time also you felt alive. When Sehun comes into your life, you only know the pain and forget everything. Momentarily, he is here for whatever reason. Looking at his face you cannot ignore Sehyun is death nor how he played games. Being near Sehun will only hurt.

You invite them to sit. Sehun and Jinwoo keep exchanging looks. More time they take more anxious you get from inside, making sure not showing it on your face.

When Sehun asks about a person whom Sehyun giving a medical treatment? You remember him, but how Sehun know about him? Sehyun demand to forget about the incident. Jinwoo says in a muffled voice, "We read your messages." You had enough. How could Sehun dare to invade your privacy? Every time, he does something unimaginable. It hurt you again. Not even listen to his reason, properly. You push him out of your home. As soon as you close the door, you sit down leaning to the door, bring your knees near your chest. Your head falls behind at the door.

You grow worried as the minutes pass. Sehyun promises you to come by 6 p.m. to your place. Now it is 8:30 in the clock. You called him 20 times already, there was no answer for him. Your mind was running faster than necessary. It was an important day for you. Sehyun, himself said he wants to meet Mr. Kim. Thank god, you didn’t even inform Mr. Kim about it, wanting to give him a surprise or shock whatever he thinks meeting Sehyun. Sehyun hardly makes promises, and if he makes that means he keeps it. Last time, he didn't keep his promise because Sehun was seriously injured while helping or saving some college kids from getting ragging. Sehun is hurt, and his brother is in the seventh sky, worrying and caring for Sehun. You want to meet Sehun and beat him till he is near death for making his brother suffer like this. Again you try Sehyun number, still no answer. Finally the doorbell ring, you hurried to get open the door. Seeing Sehyun, you become stock-still. His shirt and jeans drained in blood, but he smiles toward you, his hand through your hair then cup your face with his dried blood hair.

You through, 'It mush be Sehun blood. Something happens to him. No, if it was Sehun blood your idiot will never smile like this. Did he himself get hurt?' Before you could say, he said, "It is not my blood." He put his hand around your shoulder, closing the door behind, take you to your room bathroom. "I will take a shower, give me my hoodie and jeans. Let me clean up first. I'll tell you what happens later, okay?" Not trusting your voice, you nod and get his clothes. He asks you to come inside the bathroom. While he showers, you hang up clothes and look at him. You become a little shy, but cannot take eyes off his naked body, and feel relief, there was no sigh injury. He finishes, you hand him the towel. He laughs staring your blush face. "God. Look at your blush. It is not the first time you are seeing me." And you roll eyes.

He dries himself, wears his clothes and tightly hugs you. "I'm soo tired." Hugging him back you, "Who's blood was that?" You know and trust him, he will never get in any trouble. Rest his head on your shoulder, he said, "I saw a person while I was on my way here, he is around our age, terribly wounded. Maybe poor too. I tried to help him. You know treating his wounds and stuff. I ask him to go to the hospital. He keeps denying. Completing necessitating medication. I left him alone to get him painkillers, by the time I go back to the place he was gone. I search him near the area, but he was nowhere. I’m a little worried about him.” Inhaling breath near your neck, he added, ”And you know I cannot go home with blood on my clothes, so I come here." Of course, he desires to help. After becoming a Doctor, he wants to move near villages to help ordinary people. Or at least visit places where he could help, every weekend. That made you rethink your future again. You couldn't work and be together. He has his dream, and you want to follow him. He says you don't have to worry about it. He will make time for you even after working as he wants. It is something you hardly believe. You guys in college, he doesn't have much of time for you, how will he manage after becoming a doctor. You had a dangerous argument about it. You were full of rages. He laughs, saying, 'He will always come back to you in the end.' This was somewhat true, no matter how things get worst, he always comes back to you.

You rub his back and console him, “He is going to be okay wherever he is. Whatever, you cannot go home like this because it will freak out your brother but what about me? How will I feel?”

“You are stronger than you think baby. While Sehun only pretends to stronger." He laughs and continues, "You know, when you be selfish for me. I love it.” You chuckle. “I cannot help myself. I only get a few hours with you and someone is always there to steal that hour. I can adjust with Sehun but not with strangers.” He again laughs. You both stay in the hug until Sehyun said, "Baby, I love to stay wrapped around you for the whole day, but I'm hungry, and I have to go back home, Sehun is waiting." Your roll eyes again, let him go, giving him a fake smile and irritating snort. Sehun again.

After one month, Sehyun messages you about that Stanger meeting him again but he was not poor at all. That Stanger was roaming in a luxury car. Sehyun also said how he talks a lunatic manner. He keeps messaging about kidnapping or dying stuff or his cries and he wants to befriend with him. Sehyun was irritated with him and start calling him 'Psycho Stanger.' God only knows somehow that Psycho comes to know about me. It made Sehyun want to stay away from him.

One day, Sehyun come running to your place. When he sees you, he had tears in his eyes, he tightly hugs you. You can feel him shivering in fear. For the first, you had seen him sacred. He even cried, not letting you go. After asking a million times what happened, he replied that psycho stating you have been kidnapped by him. This kind of thing keeps happening for a month. Psycho doesn't do anything, just keep saying nonsense about your kidnapping.

From some jewelry stop, you get delivery saying Sehyun has sent it to you. First, you get happy and excited. It is not new Sehyun sending you gifts. But then you realize it is jewelry. Sehyun never has that much money. He would never take extra money from his parents other than pocket money. As you open the box, it gets confirmed. Sehyun doesn't have money to send you expenses round heart-arrow shape diamond ring. More like an engagement ring. Out of the blue, you assume it was given by that psycho stranger. As he only knows about you and Sehyun. You immediately call Sehyun. He replied after the tenth call, "Y/N I ask you not to call me. I am on a week trip with Sehun and I'm cannot let him know about us. It is not time." You stammer, "I-I-I gets a delivery of engagement ring by your name. Sehyun only that psycho stranger knows about us. Did he send me?" Sehyun didn't reply. You can only hear his breathing voice, angrily breathing voice. He cut the call and message you lock yourself inside the apartment. If something happens to call cops and he is coming back in a few hours. By the time to be careful.

You don't know what happens in the next few hours. Sehyun informs you he has solved the problem. That psycho will never come back also the whole ring incident was a misunderstanding. That was 'for Sehyun' not 'from Sehyun' That psycho and his father has sent the ring in 'thank you' gesture for saving him. And the ring holds the rarest diamond in the world so the decide to gift it. You and Sehyun both send that ring back, not wanting to create any further relation with whoever that billionaire was.

After that, everything very peaceful until Sehyun death. That person never comes back for you. You grasp, realizing maybe that psycho kills Sehyun. Did he have a reason for it? You cannot understand anything. You want to call Sehun and tell everything you know.

Sehun. You wanted to hug him. Only for a second, you craved it. Why? You know you had missed him. You cannot deny it, at least not to yourself. You were angry too. You yearn to slap him more. He is not the same as Sehyun. Because if Sehyun did something wrong he keeps coming after you apologizing until you forgive him. But Sehun didn't. Love you? It was a lie. Sehyun nor Sehunn loves you. One was never ready to admit a relationship, dies, leaving you alone. And another never realizes his mistake, lie, leaving you alone. Before tears dare to from your eyes, you firm yourself, get up from the door, go to your bed. It will be your last day thinking about both brothers. You will move on. Live your life happily. Not even caring for the Sehyun murder case.

From the next morning, you tried to ignore stuff, but you cannot remove it from your head. Your spirit keeps telling you to inform everything to Sehun and help him. That didn't let you live in peace. Truth is no one can fall out of love in one day, no matter how wrong that loved one is. You also know, they will stay in your mind and heart forever, you just don’t want to admit it.

You cannot even focus on the exam. Your mind keeps wavering. That you can see in your exam result, you failed in two papers. For the first time, you fail in any exam.

Mr. Kim comforts you, telling 'There is always a first time for everything.' and you can give the exam again, not to worry about it. However, it wasn’t helping you much. To cheer you up, he takes to restaurants.

The restaurant was average looking. The wooden wall separates one table from another. Just your luck, Sehun, and his little group are here far in corner. You make Mr. Kim in front of the restaurant door where Sehun cannot see you, wanting to ignore them still you can hear loud cheering and laughing. Why they so happy?

Mr. Kim gently asks you to talk with 'Sehyun.' You refuse it. You were sad due to failing your exam, and also feel bad for not helping him. Honesty, you want to meet Sehun and talk with him, feeling chargeable and feeling annoyed as he was happy without you, you didn't do it. It was again stupid of you. Mr. Kim has an unknown smile seeing irritation look on your face. He clears his throat, again and again, means go and talk. This is the time you miss Mrs. Kim. She would be angry and take you away, ask you to stay away from boys, opposite to Mr. Kim.

Congratulations cake pass beside you. You turn a bit to see where cake is going, and it reaches Sehun table, making you wonder. You don't know what is wrong with you, maybe you were just curious. Checking your manners, you turn back toward your food. Mr. Kim gives you look with a smirk, you awkwardly smile.

"Mr. Oh, congratulations for topping in exams." Loud cheer making you grasp hearing it. Topping in exams? And you got failed. You survived in guilt and Sehun top in the exam. Wait, how is that possible? It was his first exam, wasn't he terrified to give Sehyun exam? And when he become studious. He was going to college to know about Sehyun killer, correct? You were angry. It was stupid but how could Sehun top and you failed in the exams. Why is he okay when your mind keeps wavering? You stand up rudely banging to hands in the table. Mr. Kim tries to stop as you walking toward Sehun, fiercely.

As you reach, Sehun and his friends look at you widening their eyes, or shocked. Jinwoo was first to recover and call your name with a smile. You ignore him rudely and hiss toward Sehun, "You top in exam how?" Sehun gets up about to say something, Yuna interprets, pulling him to the seat again, linking her hand with his said, "By studying. How else?" That made you angry more and little jealous maybe, you said to Yuna, "He owns tongue to speak and study? For medical college?" Turning toward Sehun to said, "My mind keeps wavering because I didn't help you and you were all okay to top. Tell me it is a joke. How could you even pass when I couldn't? It is foolish, you can kill someone due to lack of knowledge..." Before you complete, he unlinks his hand from Yuna, getting up said, "I'm sorry about your exam. And trust me, my brother, I used to study together. I good like him." Genuine like Sehyun, nonsense. Before you could say more, Mr. Kim excused on your behalf ask than to continue then drag you out. For the first time, you behave plus whine to Mr. Kim like a teenager and he patiently lets you until you completely drain out.

He drops you home. Whatever promised you made to yourself vain. You feel lonely.

-Sehun pov-

Y/n fails exams and somewhat blames me for it. She behaved like is okay, she asks me never to see her. What should I do then? And did Sehyun never tell her that I study with him? I don't go to college though I know things.

After Y/n was gone, I stare at Yuna. What I hell is wrong with her? Why she links her hands with me? Yuna action caused me thinking she still has hope for her and me. And I cannot be wrong this time. Did I saw a hint of jealous in Y/N eyes, but why? Being angry for not passing exams is different from being jealous of Yuna. Everything is messing up in my mind. And Taeyong blame, "I get it she is Sehyun girl, she is in stress but why she destroys our mood." I really want to punch his face until it is swollen. Jinwoo saved my energy, "Taeyong watch it. You don't know the meaning of love, so you won't get how she is feeling." Both of them start arguing. I get out of that place to take a long walk and think.

It was a good day until a few minutes ago. My every plan is offtrack. I feel like I have lost all of my hope. I was not in the state and my phone keeps buzzing. There 20 missed calls from my friends and message from an unknown number. Ignore my friends call. I see the message.

"Sehyun come and meet me in my office right now. I'm waiting for you.” - Lawyer Kim.

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