#Lunar Lexicon

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Renaissance Loan Words in Middle English

Loan Word - vocabulary borrowings

Borrow - to introduce a word (or some other linguistic feature) from one language or dialect into another

From Latin and Greek absurdity, adapt, agile, alienate, allusion, anachronism, anonymous, appropriate, assassinate, atmosphere, autograph, benefit, capsule, catastrophe, chaos, climax, conspicuous, contradictory, crisis, criterion, critic, delirium, denunciation, disability, disrespect, emancipate, emphasis, encyclopedia, enthusiasm, epilepsy, eradicate, exact, exaggerate, excavate, excursion, exist, expectation, expensive, explain, external, extinguish, fact, glottis, habitual, halo, harass, idiosyncrasy, immaturity, impersonal, inclemency, jocular, larynx, lexicon, lunar, malignant, monopoly, monosyllable, necessitate, obstruction, pancreas, parasite, parenthesis, pathetic, pneumonia, relaxation, relevant, scheme, skeleton, soda, species, system, tactics, temperature, tendon, thermometer, tibia, tonic, transcribe, ulna, utopian, vacuum, virus

From or via French alloy, anatomy, battery, bayonet, bigot, bizarre, chocolate, colonel, comrade, detail, docility, duel, entrance, equip, explore, grotesque, invite, moustache, muscle, naturalize, passport, pioneer, probability, progress, shock, surpass, ticket, tomato, vase, vogue, volunteer

From or via Italian argosy, balcony, ballot, cameo, carnival, concerto, cupola, design, fuse, giraffe, grotto, lottery, macaroni, opera, piazza, portico, rocket, solo, sonata, sonnet, soprano, stanza, stucco, trill, violin, volcano

From or via Spanish and Portuguese alligator, anchovy, apricot, armada, banana, barricade, bravado, cannibal, canoe, cockroach, cocoa, corral, desperado, embargo, guitar, hammock, hurricane, maize, mosquito, mulatto, negro, potato, port (wine), rusk, sombrero, tank, tobacco, yam

From other languages bamboo (Malay), bazaar (Persian), caravan (Persian), coffee (Turkish), cruise (Dutch), curry (Tamil), easel (Dutch), flannel (Welsh), guru (Hindi), harem (Arabic), horde (Turkish), keelhaul (Dutch), ketchup (Malay), kiosk (Turkish), knapsack (Dutch), landscape (Dutch), pariah (Tamil), raccoon (Algonquian), rouble (Russian), sago (Malay), sheikh (Arabic), shekel (Hebrew), shogun (Japanese), troll (Norwegian), trousers (Irish Gaelic), turban (Persian), wampum (Algonquian), yacht (Dutch), yoghurt (Turkish)

Source ⚜ More References: Middle English ⚜ Renaissance

[divinationsanctuary19]

Hekate Deipnon (3rd of September)

From hellenion.org

Hekate’s Deipnon takes place during the dark phase of the moon: the end of the lunar month (any time before the sliver of the new moon has been sighted). Hekate, according to the Liddell and Scott Greek-English Lexicon, means “bringer or giver of light” (‘Ekate phosphoros). At the darkest part of the month, we prepare our homes for the transition to a new month. Hekate’s Deipnon is a time of purification of self, home, and affairs. There are differing theories as to if Hekate’s Deipnon is solely a meal offered to Hekate, or if there is a secondary intent of the meal offering going to the less fortunate.

Some modern Hellenes choose to put the more traditional offerings onto an altar, offer them at a 3 way crossroads, or place them at an intersection of air, water, and land – such as a rock jutting out of the water or a bridge over a stream or pond. Donations of food, money, or time serving meals at a local food pantry or soup kitchen are an increasingly popular offering.

Making sure you have fulfilled your previous month’s obligations, duties, promises, and paid off all debts (financial and emotional) is another activity some perform to ‘close the books’ on the previous month and prepare for the new one.

Traditional offerings include:

sweepings from the home

garlic

eggs

leeks

“things you don’t want to bring into the next month”

[musicwithoutborders]

Aindulmedir, Book of Towers I The Lunar Lexicon, 2019

[burlveneer-music]

Shakali - Rihmastossa - "Shakali" is based on the musician's name, but after hearing the music I suspect the similarity to "Laraaji" is not a coincidence

Based in the South Moravian city of Brno, Finnish multi-instrumentalist Simo Hakalisto aka Shakali crafts surreal terrariums of strings, synthetics, wood, and wind, teeming with bio-electronic synchronicities. Rihmastossa further finesses the project’s eclectic lexicon of electro-acoustic world-building, utilizing a gallery of instruments both ancient and advanced: solar-powered sine wave generators, singing bowls, metallophones, microtonal synths wired into tree slabs, lap harps, amplified found objects, percussion filters, flutes. This is world music in the most naturalistic sense – subtle spatial ecosystems of climate, vibration, landscape, and species, as alluded to in the track titles about fungal colonies, extinct birds, rare worms, and pine forests. Hakalisto’s work in various exploratory duos (Gnäw, Lunar Horns, Thistle) has honed his instincts for atmospheric improvisation, but when alone he embeds even deeper into the terrain, acting as conduit as much as creator. Across seven free-flowing fugue states of texture and resonance, his touch simmers beneath the surface, guided by shifting light and hidden hands. Written, performed and produced by Simo Hakalisto. Instrumentation: Meng Qi Wing Pinger, Soma Terra, Tocante Phashi, 5-string and 15-string Kantele, Tocante Karper, Meng Qi Wingie II, Moog Matriarch, modular synthesizer, Gendèr, field recordings, found objects, Critter & Guitari Organelle, percussion, flutes. Soprano Saxophone on 1, 4, 7 by Julian Overall. Singing Bowl on 5 by Matěj Kotouček. Mastered by Jared Carrigan. Design by Britt Brown.

[electrikteak]

ONIRONAUTI (DREAMDWELLERS) _Journey into the intimate imagination

The Onironauti project stems from a desire to investigate the visual lexicon of intimate imagery through photography, understood as an empathic inquiry. The subjects are women and men with cognitive disabilities who practice theatrical clowning as part of their personal and interpersonal growth. This work, called 'Lunar Clowning' is influenced by humanist psychologist Carl Rogers' concept of 'unconditional positive regard,' a state of loving non-judgment that predisposes to deep listening, allowing the actor to fearlessly experience endless possibilities of being.

The Onironauta is a dream navigator, the one who experiences lucid dreams. I used photography as an 'oneironautic' technique, which allowed me to stage intimate dreams and photograph them in the moment when the wonder of the encounter between reality and dream happened.

'Onironauti' is a dialogue that arises in an intimate space, between me and the subject, where verbal language and judgment tend to fall away. On the one hand there is the embodiment of the dreams of these wonderful dissonant and harmonious creatures at once, whose emotions are often too strong to be contained and to whom the body makes demands that do not pass through the mind but beat at the door of the heart. On the other side is me, with my emotions. It is a kind of 'dance' between us.

It is an invitation to the viewer to dance together. 

And if as Miriam says 'intimacy is like fun,' finally we had a lot of fun, dancing like this.

[melora-ii]

Lunar Expedition 24509

Flight Day 44

—————————

When I wake in the morning, I am covered in sweat. My pillow and sheets feel damp to the touch.

I look in the small face mirror in my Decontamination Stall, and I notice that I appear flushed and my pupils are dilated slightly more than usual. Only slightly.

I don’t remember any dreams from this cycle. I feel certain I had them anyway.

I decide to look back over the messages between Michael and myself from the previous evening before getting ready for my breakfast in the mess hall.

I think a thought.

InteractiveAI, Please open the Text Communication application to my first message with the user Michael_Crozie.

A nearly transparent hologram of a digital screen displays a scrollable conversation between two users: M_Crozie and M_Maesunn. Michael is in orange font, I am in blue.

I use my eye-gaze to follow the conversation, and the application scrolls upward automatically as I read.

Flight Day 43

21:03

-Hello, Michael. It is I, Melora Maesunn.

-Hello, Melora. I know it’s you. Your name is right there in the display box.

-Oh, yes.

-Let’s start from the beginning. I want you to introduce yourself as if I were a random person you wanted to share your dissertation theory with.

-Hi, I’m Melora. I study Diplomacy. If you were in my physical presence, I would be smiling at you.

-That’s definitely helpful in setting the tone, I suppose.

-What did you study in Diplomacy School?

-I focused mostly on language acquisition. I can fluently speak 8 alien languages, as well as the Universal Verbal Utterances Lexicon. Which is basically a collection of grunts, grumbles, and gutteral noises that can easily be made by any creature with a simple vocal chord system to communicate basic concepts. Very diverse, even if clumsy.

-That’s…actually fascinating.

-What made you decide to focus on language acquisition in your studies, specifically?

-I was an only child. My parents were not approved for the second government-issued child. I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s not uncommon enough to warrant concern. Anyway, I had a lot of imaginary playmates as a child. And I was always interested in extraterrestrial life.

-I had entire conversations with characters in my head. I would imagine new species on new planets. Then I would make a new language for each of them. I guess I’ve always just enjoyed the idea of language and what it does, and how we use it to project ideas into each other’s minds.

-I was also an only child. I didn’t have imaginary friends. I did have similar fantasies, except I used simulation software. I designed civilizations to develop using specific code I wrote. Then I would alter the code slightly here and there, and then run it again to see what changed. Sometimes the people would starve. Or an asteroid would hit them going 2 thousand miles per hour.

-I see.

-Anyway, continue please. So you had a vivid imagination as a kid. Why did you decide to go the military route for your Diplomacy degree? You could have just as easily taken a local political position with your qualifications. I daresay you could go global eventually.

-I’m not interested in local politics, to be honest. I do love the people in my home city. And of course my parents. But I don’t care to be in the public eye. I don’t desire notoriety. The military route offered me something nothing else ever could: the opportunity to be hands-on. In the trenches. I want to work with extraterrestrial life directly. I want to get my hands on as much of the universe as I can before some greedy corporation tries to take over the venture.

-Haha, that’s fair.

-I need to ask you an important question, Melora.

-Okay.

-If we entered the first stage of First Contact with a new planet and our survey data showed us that the alien life there is aggressive, invasive, and possibly dangerous for the universe as a whole if they were to achieve space-flight (assuming they already haven’t) what is your plan? How do you proceed?

-I haven’t considered that far into my hypothetical scenario yet. Military defense strategy is not my expertise. I’m the offense. And I have never had a real case to implement my theory on. I try to presume for the best in all situations.

-Yes. I know you do, Melora.

-Do you have a plan, Michael? Do you know what you will do in that scenario?

-Yes.

-I do.

-Good.

-It is getting late. I am afraid I must enter my Decontamination Stall and then prepare for sleep.

-It’s only 23:16.

-My alarm is set for 05:00. I do not function well on little sleep.

-What happens?

-I’m really mean and not very polite.

-I find that hard to believe or imagine.

-Good night, Melora.

-Good Standard Sun Downing, Michael.

I use my eye-gaze to close the Text Communication application and then silently command the program to disappear back into my brain. I have fifteen minutes until breakfast.

I rush through my care-routine and dress in a freshly laundered red jumpsuit. My name is sewn on a patch near the left lapel. It says

Melora Maesunn

Diplomacy Officer

in black stiching.

I am no longer a just Stasis Pod Person. Yes.

My headset gives its typical two bzt bzt sounds followed by the 06:00 message.

I head to the mess hall. It’s a short walk from my Pod’s cabin area. As I close my door behind me, I notice one of my Pod Group members exiting his own cabin.

“Good Standard Sun Rising, Vinkat.” I greet him politely from where I stand.

Vinkat smiles warmly and approach me. We walk together in the same direction, towards the mess hall.

“Good Standard Sun Rising to you as well, Melora. How was your sleep cycle?”

I suspect that Vinkat is just asking me this question because it’s customary, but I also believe that he is very pleasant to be around most days. He is an alien biologist, and one of the most highly-decorated in his field. He was also one of the first members of our Pod Group to graduate from Cryo-Sleep Transition.

This is his fifth mission. He doesn’t appear to be much older than me, regardless. His eyes are a violent yellow, his short hair a shocking orange.

I am never not entertained by the Appearance Filters we all use.

“My sleep cycle was satisfactory to my energy needs. Thank you for asking, Vinkat. I hope yours was also well.”

Sensing an end to both the conversation and the hallway, Vinkat begins to disengage.

I wave a polite goodbye as we depart from each other.

The mess hall doorway is open and provides a view of a bustle of human activity. People in red jumpsuits each take a metal tray from a stack on the line, put it on the conveyor belt, and then a very complicated mix of android/computer technology scans each person’s headset frequency and deposits a breakfast on a plate that is tailored specifically to that person’s dietary needs and flavor preferences.

The man ahead of me receives an egg white omelet with three sausage links.

I receive a breakfast burrito with cheese, peppers, onions, sausage, and egg. There is a small container of mild tomato salsa on the side.

The lady behind me gets a bowl of bran cereal with pale milk colored liquid. Probably almond milk, if I had to guess.

It wouldn’t matter if we all chose a different meal for each day. The food isn’t real.

A large machine in the back grinds up a mixture of vitamins and minerals with artificial high protein filler. Then it molds this glob of food-product into whatever shape you want and injects flavors in it via the highly efficient no-waste cooking process.

I press a button on the drink machine and out pours French-pressed coffee into a temperature safe cup with three sugars, cream, and hazelnut syrup. The caffeine isn’t real either.

I set my tray down at a random stool at the long dining table and take a huge bite of my breakfast burrito.

Mmmmm. Burrito.

It’s actually really delicious. The GoodFood Company who designed the technology completely revitalized and restructured the food-distribution system on New Earth.

People no longer starve in the streets. And the food doesn’t taste like cardboard crap. That’s a plus.

A tray settles gently beside me. Attached to it is a person holding it, as often happens.

“Good Standard Sun Rising, Gratze.” I politely declare as she sits at the table. We regularly eat together at the mess hall.

Gratze is eating an assortment of fruit drizzled with honey. There is also a slice of thick, crusty bread smeared with soft cheese and a glass of ice water on the tray.

“How was your sleep cycle?” I ask, genuinely curious. My dreams have been increasingly strange. Last night was the first time I had one that I could not recall.

“Satisfactory, thanks for asking.”

We eat our breakfast in comfortable silence. I have the feeling that if it weren’t considered impolite, Gratze would ask me about my meeting with Michael.

“Can I ask you a question, Gratze?” I ask, sipping my coffee.

Gratze finishes chewing her fruit and responds.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well, when I met with…The Colonel yesterday morning…he told me to call him just Michael. He said that he isn’t even in the military and that-“

“Melora. Don’t be silly. He’s pulling your leg. Colonel Crozie is a decorated war-hero and a very accomplished military strategist.” She says this gently and quietly, as if afraid to speak too loudly. She doesn’t even look up from her food.

I wrinkle my nose in confusion.

“But he said-“

She snaps her eyes to mine suddenly.

“He’s having you on. Go look him up in The Archives if you would like. I’m sure it will list his accomplishments in order of occurrence.”

Her expression is serious, but still friendly.

“You’re so right, Gratze! Thank you for the idea!”

We complete our meal, put away our dishes, and then two short bzt bzt sounds emit from my headset.

It is now 07:00. Please proceed to your designated Assignment post. If you need information about your current assignment post, you can find this in the Assignment tab on your InteractiveAI Headset Menu.

A blinking red alarm symbol appears above my Assignment tab. So I press the button with my eye-gaze.

My Assignment today is different from all previous days. Even yesterday’s, after meeting with Michael in his office.

While I would typically spend the day in Diplomacy simulations with other officers currently awake from their pods onboard, today I am directed to the Ansible Room.

The Ansible Room is the hub for all communication for the entire ship, as well as all outgoing communications back to Command on New Earth, and with other ships on various contracted missions that we may encounter.

Or perhaps even alien fleets.

When I arrive at the Ansible Room, I am surprised to find a large, domed area practically glittering with the blinking of lights on hundreds of monitors. In the middle stands none other than Michael Crozie himself.

“I should have known you’d be behind this.” I gesture casually as I approach him. He’s turned away, looking at a monitor.

“Good morning, Melora.” He greets politely, and then turns to look at me. I suppose he recognized my voice.

He pauses only a moment to look into my eyes intentionally, but it’s enough for me to notice.

“I asked you to meet me here today because I need you to start practicing your theory in real-life situations. A hundred peaceful First Contacts mean nothing if we end up dead in that one, single scenario where we encounter a hostile alien life.”

“Good Standard Sun Rising, Michael. I agree. I think we should have a trial run to work out possible kinks. Is there a reason we need this room for this?”

“Yeah, so. This domed area can display very sophisticated holograms. It also projects programmable character skins onto our bodies so that we can use them avatars. We use this technology when communicating with a species who may not understand or relate to us in a human form. We adjust to one more compatible.”

Michael snaps his fingers and suddenly he appears to be a seven foot tall Orinthian from the neighboring Rejivoir galaxy. He’s a monstrous black woolen-furred creature with sixteen beady eyes and a gaping maw.

Orinthian’s communicate solely with a series of growls, but far more complex than anything I learned using the Universal Verbal Utterances Lexicon.

“We can role-play difficult scenarios using the skins. And we can also communicate telepathically while in the hologram while making auditory simulations that appear to be the chosen alien language. It works by projecting thoughts as specific symbols in the subconscious layer of the brain. The hologram sounds just allow us to pretend to be speaking verbally.”

I am hearing Michael’s voice in my head, but a humongous drooling alien creature is standing in front of me.

I give him a thumbs up and a grin.

“Sounds good.”

We used similar AI holograms at Diplomacy School, although they were far less sophisticated. We couldn’t wear skins as avatars, or interact with the hologram beyond its programmed script.

Michael sets to work using the hologram software and a digital wand to measure my body for my skins. He then asks me to speak a series of basic phrases into the wand so that the program can replicate my voice later in his head.

We spend several hours doing this, and Michael uses the monitors to adjust certain specifications to tweak the program so that it feels as seamless and real as possible. He walks me through what each monitor measures and what the data means, as well as what to adjust in specific scenarios as basic troubleshooting.

Towards Standard Mid Day, Michael stops and asks if I want to eat lunch.

“Yes, I’m so hungry. You’ve been talking a long time. I missed my mid-morning snack.”

Micheal bursts into one of his curious laughing fits, but manages to stay calm enough to not appear insane.

“Next time, just tell me to shut up so you can get some food. I get on a roll and I just don’t know when to stop.”

Michael gestures for us to leave the Ansible Room, and we walk together headed towards the nearest mess hall, I presume.

“I don’t spend a lot of time with other…humans. Very often.” He says this in an apologetic tone.

“No, it’s fine. I actually enjoyed your explanations. They are interesting. We used InsertAI at Diplomacy School. It’s not nearly as integrative. ”

His face breaks out in a grin.

“I developed the code for the InsertAI. The bones of it is still somewhere beneath all of this new stuff. I have been adding new lines of code as I go. This is AdvancedInsertAI.”

“How much of this ship have you programmed, exactly?”

Michael laughs.

“A lot.”

We continue walking down the hallway in companionable silence for a few minutes, until a thought pops into my head.

“Although, I do have to wonder…if you disappeared, could anyone run this ship like you?”

Michael nearly stops dead in his tracks.

“You know what, Melora. I forgot I have something I need to work on. You’re free to have lunch in the mess hall and then do whatever you want for the remainder of the day.”

I turn to look at him, confused.

“But…my assignment says we continue until oh-seventeen-hundred on today’s schedule.”

Michael laughs a little harshly. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? Well, hold on just a minute. Let me fix that.”

He does an about face and returns to the Ansible Room. I don’t follow.

Moments later, I get a bzt bzt bzt sound from my Headset.

Officer Melora Maesunn, your remaining Assignments and Duties for today have been cancelled. Please proceed to your designated cabin after lunch, and do something fun with your time off.

My Headset has never spoken so causally to me. Nor has it ever cared about whether I had any fun or not.

Michael leaves the Ansible Room, but walks the opposite direction. Away from me.

“Good Standard Mid Day to you too, Michael Crozie!” I practically yell down the hallway. He raises his hand in a goodbye gesture, but doesn’t turn around.

I spend the rest of the day drafting a request to the Digital Library Collective back on New Earth for permission to access the onboard Archives as soon as I possibly can.

Who really is Michael Crozie?

[sonofeterniaramblings]

Son of Eternia Ramblings, Ep 1: The Importance of Naming

I am what you could call an amateur writer - after all, I don't have the experience or funding to get anything I write published, and even if I did… most of what I write is fanfiction, so a few legal problems would ensue to say the least.

Regardless of this minor thorn in my side, I publish them online for all to read anyway. And something that I've noticed since I started planning in September 2022 is the power that names can have, and not just for characters. Places, events, chapters, heck! What you name your story can have such a profound impact on the direction it goes in.

For an example, let's take a look at the fanfiction series I'm writing, Son of Eternia. From that title, you can tell that it has a fantasy setting due to the word 'Eternia' not being part of the English Lexicon.

Now, let's get onto the real meat of this rant/post. The characters.

Declan 'Decadence' O'Connor is the protagonist of the series, and just from his name you can subconsciously work out a few things about him. Both the names Declan and O'Connor are of Irish origin, making you intuitively picture him as Anglo-Gaelic even if I haven't described him to you yet. His alias, Decadence? Nothing to do with the downfall of society through the rich and lavish, he just picked it because it was cool and sounded close enough to his own name.

Valorie 'Moonshroad' Van Der Brink. Again, European name origins, but less obvious. Van Der Brink is a bit more exotic, probably more eastern. The Moonshroad nickname also gives off her affinity for the moon, and tendency to hide herself.

On the other side of reality, Veil Lunarcleft, daughter of the cleft. Her surname gives away her entire character before it's even said outright - Veil, since she hides things about herself through an opaque emotional mask Lunar, referring to her being a Moon Elf Cleft, being the real kicker, since she's 1/16th Shadowpaw. (For context, the Shadowpaw are a humanoid species of cats that reside in the 15th dimension, in the city of Bramblecleft.)

Names can change and evolve throughout the series as well. For example, two of my secondary characters, Damien and Alex, completely change their names when they enter the Aetherian realm (to Ashgem Polestar and Phoenix Polestar respectively) as a representation of their lack of attatchment to their old world. There are other changes that take place, signifying character growth, change and all that jazz, but if I gave that info all willy nilly, I'd be spoiling the story! Can't have that when I'm only 12.5% complete, can we?

So, yeah. You could say that naming your stuff is important. And if it doesn't work out first time, that's okay! Declan went through many iterations before he got his current name (the Decadence alias actually came first, would you believe). The story itself has changed names numerous times as the plot changed and evolved over the years, going from Stonebay Chronicles to Son of Entity to what it is today.

I hope my brainfart of a first tumblr post was an… entertaining read to say the least. Thank you for letting me waste your time.

[birdzflycom]

Chinese Zodiac Fortune Forecasts: What Awaits in the Year of the Dragon

Courtesy: edition Chinese Zodiac Fortune Forecasts Inaugurating the Year of the Dragon bids adieu to the Rabbit era, ushering in a phase marked by celestial serpents and mythical majesty. Beyond the customary feasting and exchanging of blessings, the Lunar New Year, falling on February 10 this year, prompts many to turn their gaze to the heavens, seeking insights into the journey ahead. Embracing the Year of the Dragon: An Insightful Overview for 2024 Lunar New Year Familiar to most is the sequence of the 12 Chinese zodiac animals: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig, each spanning a 12-year cycle. One's zodiac designation derives from birth year, placing 2024 under the Dragon sign and 2025 under Snake, and so forth. Yet, this merely scratches the surface. For adherents, a year's essence transcends its zodiac avatar, encompassing a tapestry woven from the ten celestial stems and twelve earthly branches. 2024: The Wood Dragon's Ascendancy Annually, a heavenly stem, representing one of five elements categorized as yin or yang, pairs with an earthly branch, symbolizing a zodiac animal. Presently, the heavenly stem "Jia," embodying yang wood, converges with the Dragon's earthly domain, "Chen," signifying wood's ascendancy in 2024. Interpreting these elements' interplay unveils potential trajectories for the months ahead. "Jia, epitomizing wood, and the Dragon, an embodiment of earthly essence," asserts Thierry Chow, a Hong Kong-based consultant blending traditional geomancy with contemporary design principles, "proffer profound insights. In the elemental lexicon, wood subdues earth, suggesting wood-centric sectors may eclipse their earthbound counterparts in 2024." Nourishing Noodles: Lunar New Year's Fortuitous Fare Chow forecasts flourishing prospects for wood-aligned industries like culture, publishing, and floristry, contrasting the potential struggles facing earth-based sectors like real estate and mining. The Dragon, revered for its leadership prowess, beckons auspicious aspirations, with many coveting Dragon-born offspring. China's venerable fire dragon dance, a centuries-old tradition, continues to captivate audiences, embodying the fervor surrounding this auspicious sign. Moreover, 2024 heralds a transition from the eighth to the ninth period of the Xuan Kong flying star, marking a new epoch. "The ninth star embodies feminine energy," elucidates Chow, "ushering in a paradigm shift towards technology, art, spirituality, and feminine leadership." The celestial compass hints at propitious directions, favoring southwest, northwest, and eastern sojourns, domestically or abroad. Jupiter's Magnanimous Influence On an individual scale, fortunes intertwine with Tai Shui's meridian, celestial deities mirroring Jupiter's orbit. Consulting a geomancer discerns one's celestial resonance, guiding pivotal decisions like marriage or entrepreneurship. While each's celestial dance differs, alignment with Tai Sui augurs a panoramic outlook for the year. Disruptions may besiege those out of Tai Sui's favor, yet cyclic rhythms offer solace amidst tumultuous tides. Ritualistic offerings to Tai Sui ameliorate discord, fostering harmonious cosmic rapport. Chow extols temple pilgrimages for all, especially Dragon, Ox, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Horse denizens, echoing ancient wisdom's counsel. Dragon's Destiny: Navigating Turbulence Dragon-bearers brace for turbulent tides in their eponymous year, urging humility amidst challenges. Competitive currents test professional mettle, while financial frugality tempers fiscal tempests. "This is a year for cautious maneuvers," cautions Chow, advocating prudent spending amid economic uncertainty. Navigating Dragon's domain entails circumspection, fortifying against headwinds with tempered resolve. Snake's Serenity: Embracing Change Snakes find solace in familial bonds amidst shifting sands, fostering stability amidst transformation. Admirers flock, entwining in serpentine allure, as destiny unveils its clandestine treasures. Resilience tempers adversity, sculpting sagacity amidst the crucible of change. Horse's Odyssey: Charting New Horizons Horse-bearers embark on odysseys of discovery, serendipity weaving tapestries of opportunity. Wanderlust whispers of fortunes untold, beckoning to distant shores in search of destiny's embrace. Embracing movement, Horse-born souls navigate celestial currents, heeding the call of the unknown. Goat's Gambit: Reimagining Destiny Goats forge paths anew, navigating labyrinthine destinies with poised determination. Temporal tumults yield to strategic ingenuity, propelling ascension amidst the crucible of change. Emerging from shadows, Goat-folk embrace metamorphosis, seeding futures ripe with promise. Monkey's Medley: Orchestrating Destiny Monkeys conduct life's symphony with deft hands, orchestrating melodies of fortune with celestial finesse. Bearing witness to unfolding destinies, Monkeys navigate tempestuous tides with serene resolve. In the tapestry of existence, Monkey-born souls weave threads of destiny with spirited fervor. Rooster's Reverie: Cultivating Harmony Roosters cultivate kinship amidst celestial harmony, nurturing bonds of camaraderie amidst celestial alignment. Eclipsing discord with lunar radiance, Rooster souls bask in the glow of serendipity's embrace. In the theater of existence, Roosters don the mantle of destiny, conducting life's symphony with celestial grace. Dog's Decree: Navigating Tempests Dogs navigate tempestuous seas with stoic resolve, weathering storms with indomitable spirit. In the crucible of adversity, wisdom blossoms, illuminating pathways through life's labyrinth. Traversing cosmic currents, Dog-born souls chart destinies imbued with resilience and fortitude. Pig's Parable: Harvesting Fortune Pigs labor amidst the crucible of fate, reaping fortunes sown in celestial soil with meticulous care. Amidst temporal tumults, Pig-folk cultivate serenity, nurturing bonds of kinship amidst the celestial dance. Embracing destiny's embrace, Pig-born souls sow seeds of prosperity, yielding harvests bountiful and ripe. Rat's Resilience: Forging Destiny Rats navigate life's labyrinth with unwavering resolve, forging pathways through temporal tempests with indomitable spirit. In the crucible of fate, Rats find solace in celestial allies, garnering wisdom from guardians unseen. Seizing opportunities amidst chaos, Rat-born souls sculpt destinies with resilient hearts and steadfast spirits. Ox's Odyssey: Navigating Celestial Tides Oxen navigate celestial currents with steadfast resolve, charting courses through life's labyrinth with unwavering determination. In the crucible of fate, Oxen tread paths less trodden, forging destinies imbued with tempered strength and celestial grace. Embracing destiny's call, Ox-born souls traverse cosmic seas, guided by the North Star's steadfast gleam. Tiger's Trial: Embracing Destiny's Crucible Tigers confront celestial tempests with fortitude, navigating tumultuous tides with fierce resolve. In the crucible of fate, Tigers find solace in celestial allies, forging pathways through life's labyrinth with indomitable spirit. Seizing destiny's mantle, Tiger-born souls sculpt futures with courage and tenacity, forging legacies immortal and resplendent. Rabbit's Reverie: Embracing Destiny's Tapestry Rabbits embrace celestial rhythms with serenity, weaving destinies amidst the loom of fate's intricate design. In the crucible of existence, Rabbits cultivate resilience, nurturing bonds of kinship amidst celestial alignment. Seizing destiny's embrace, Rabbit-born souls sow seeds of harmony, yielding futures verdant with promise and possibility. Read the full article

[julierysava]

It's Tuesday's🧠✨ Lunar Enigmas: Unraveling Mysteries of the Celestial Realm 🚀🌕

Greetings, cosmic wanderers! It's time to embark on another celestial journey of the mind. Today, we delve into the lunar enigmas to grace the night sky. 🌌🔍

1. Moonlit Riddles: Imagine a cosmic gathering where the moon, adorned in silver veils, poses riddles to the stars. What celestial conundrums might it share? Let your imagination soar as you ponder the mysteries whispered by the moonlit guardian.

2. Lunar Lexicon: Every crater and mare on the moon tells a story, etched in the lunar lexicon. If you could decipher these celestial symbols, what tales of the cosmos would be revealed? Share your interpretations, and let the moon's ancient language unfold.

3. Tranquil Teasers: The moon, with its tranquil glow, is a silent sage observing the spiralling of planets and stars. If it could share a teaser about the cosmic ballet, what celestial secrets might it reveal? Envision the moon as the keeper of tantalizing truths.

4. Galactic Puzzles: Picture the moon as the centerpiece of a grand cosmic puzzle. Each phase, a piece in motion. What would the completed puzzle unveil? Unleash your creativity and share the image of this galactic puzzle with fellow cosmic dreamers.

5. Lunar Haikus: In the quiet spaces between moonbeams, compose lunar haikus to capture the essence of the night sky. Let your verses dance with the moon's radiance, painting vivid scenes of celestial poetry.

Embark on this lunar odyssey, cosmic companions! Share your thoughts, creations, and cosmic whispers. The universe is our canvas, and together, we paint the poetry of the stars. 🌠🌌💫

[15krixa15]

@lotusmybeloved @riseofamoonycake @telvess @dreamcatcheresss @praisethesunn @lanwagaipian1 @hanaiikiki @lunar Lexicon @MOTH_GA @game_suru_fa @Nuchitsu_UWU @kipitdrawsss @jo_oniku @buddhaamitabhaa @bimmis_court @yasha @cas @ruuari

I found this and thought it was cute ~♡

Tag: @salmonpoki 🦊, @praisethesuuun 🌅, @riseofamoonycake 🌃, @hebemina 💜, @telvess 🥀, @justvir 🪻, @heldril 🦇, @hanaiikiki 🐸 and everyone who wants to join.

[dr-grayson]

Aindulmedir - The Lunar Lexicon (Full Album)

[bizarrobrain]

"Snow Above Blue Fire" by Aindulmedir - From "The Lunar Lexicon" (2019)

[conocimiento-ocultozine]

Aindulmedir — The Lunar Lexicon (Full)

[harrelltut]

♀ Every Time [E.T.] I Die [I.D.]… My Magical Afterlife [MA] Egyptian Mental of Esoteric [ME = U.S. Michael Harrell = TUT = JAH] Languages from My Prehistorically FUTURISTIC Angels that Already Died [A.D.] on Earth… BEE Spiritually Resurrecting My HIGHLY Sophisticated Underworld Nubian [SUN] Body of GOLDEN [DIVINE] Black Memory intEL [MELanin] from My Primitively Ancient [PA = SUPERNATURAL] Black American Spirit [BAS = ORISHA] Bloodlines of Lost Atlantis [L.A.] ♀

[helpinghandsrpc]

literary sexts vol. 2 poetry meme

PART TWO

Inspired by the Vol 1 meme by lizzyisameme, I have decided to make an unofficial sequel with various quotes from Literary Sexts Vol 2, found here on Amazon, as edited by Amanda Oaks & Caitlyn Siehl. As always, if you like what you read, please consider supporting the authors and buying the book yourself!

Not all poems from the book will be found here, as this is only from the middle of the book, and I’m still leaving a good chunk out. 

I want you, smelling like the earth, fresh out from the rain, running back to me clothes heavy and soaked with sky.

I watch your eyelids flutter with our fluidity, intertwining into a perfect rhythm that I could never hope to recreate in even my greatest love poem. 

Kiss me so loud the clothes are quiet when we peel off each other’s shells. Love me with such volume the neighbors mistake our bodies for gunshots and we’ll never run out of ammunition. 

The are are no fig leaves, no apples. Just an overripe peach waiting, your wide mouth with tongue catching rivers of golden summer light.

Desire is fundamental, the lexicon of planets and moons, a sentence’s structure, the lunar longing to pull you into me with the unequivocal dark power, like the black noun longs to pull the red verb inside it.

You are a mountain beside me. I am the slowest river. We are aglow.

Your name like a caramel thing, burnt-sweet and sticky. In my mouth, dissolving, sugar cube, cherry red, lips locked.

I’m licking the salt of your body from my fingertips, never thought I’d find such a burning sea.

I have been collecting your voice for ages - taking syllables here and there, burying them in memory like seeds. I forget where I leave them, only remembering when I hear you again, and then it is springtime, the first bloom, your hands soft on my skin.

Let us ask forgiveness for our sins after we’ve finished - or shall we just shout God’s name in something like praise?

These mountains of yours have taken more lives than Everest. Inching closer to the top and I can hardly breathe. I bet you the world that I will barely make it out of here alive.

Your body, a bolted cage; mine, a feral beast. I know the ecstasy of a free life but I want forever to be trapped inside you.

Cities were sacked, entire civilizations raised and leveled, stars imploded and sucked up the crust of the universe when they heard those sultry words leave your lips.

My back arched over the surface of the kitchen table, bent up, concave with one fixed kiss below. You leave whole notes around my wrists. I etch staves down your back, and the fermatas holding each beat in its curve.

You smell distantly of a slice of honeydew melon, and I want to be the one who grabs you underneath the chalky lights of this bar, show you the curves of you -- how I can eat you, until you are nothing but a rind. 

Tonight my ridges are violent and gritty. If you’re not willing to get a dirty love underneath your fingernails, pivot your heel back downtown. I am not catharsis; I am a pair of crimson lips, ready to bleed between yours.

My liberty is godless but tonight, your lips are holy. I am the restless disciple of your hands; I will be what they tell me to be. You are unhooking my faithless declaration with honeysuckle fingers, you’re becoming my religion.

Where you walk, shadows draw back and nothing escapes your light. Where you walk, gravity moves away from you and you divide the sea of people. 

All this time I spent boarding my windows against you and still stole in through the cracks, sifted over the furniture, and settled into the carpet, persistent as sand in a beach house.

I am the vagabond moon swallowed by your wandering star, the crescent sliver of light kissed into oblivion by your absolute eclipse.

Kissing you didn’t require practice. It was slipping back into my skin. It was our bodies adrift in dark water.

You sigh; dancing in the ash of separation. I shudder; the tragedy of years wasted. We collide; for the first time I make love with both eyes open.

I see something new each time I taste you. How do you so widen the hearth of my desire? I cannot hold my hunger for you. 

We make love like near-death. You’re a hellhound man with heaven-streaked hands. I run towards the light.

My tongue will speak you into riverbed. Flood your throat until the drought of your heart becomes thirsty again.

Let me dribble peach juice down your chest. Let me trace a sugar road into your mouth, lick my fingers clean from your sin and drink your body whole. 

I never pretended to be anything less than what you see: a woman completely in love with you, the most dangerous kind of wolf. It was only when you buried your hands in my fur that I bit down. 

Tired of names, let this only be colors: the red of your nail lacquer, matching the stem of your wine glass. Now, I brush my teeth while you sleep, your long hair everywhere. Later, I will braid it into my own, dream of you.