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But the night is Halloween, Lady The morn is Hallowday Then, win me, win me, an ye will, For weel I wat ye may.

But hold me fast and fear me not

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The Chariot of Death (1848)

— by Théophile Schuler

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Memento Vivere, quia Memento Mori

Your first-world problems. Your subjective truths. Your mock warranties. Your doubled morality. Your contingency plans. Your ordinary memoirs. Your cluelessness. Your defensive pride. My glance at you. Our opaque hourglass. The smell of your breath. The summer breeze in our faces. Your castle of cards. My stubborn vanity.

Skull and Hour Glass by Philippe de Champaigne

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Where are your friends now?

If you do not have someone who would plot a plan to rescue you from a deadly hostile situation without being paid or receiving something in return, going against the odds and social approval, that means you are alone in this world.

-Reflection on Friendship

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receiving truth from different angles | let's have a humble reflecion for few minutes | for then using truth ourselves | because; what does not kill you... | when we master this weapon better than anyone else | but our silence do worse than wounds

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The name of the destroyer is Destroyer, it is the name of the destroyer

Constructor is the name of the constructor

The face of the constructor, what he construct, the work of the constructor

The destroyer can no longer destroy because the constructor does not construct

The constructor doesn't construct because he can't construct anymore

The face of the destroyer Demiurges, dungeons and dragons

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"And there the king is but as the beggar" - Running to Paradise, William Butler Yeats Quem sou para julgar um traidor? Quem sois para julgar um traidor? Quem quer que seja o sujeito. Um comensal.

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Man and His Symbols Man and His Man and Man Man Man Man Man Man Under the stars in the wild forest in a dark night in a cold winter.

The man under the stars in the wild forest of a dark night in a cold winter.

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Gory Cradle (Ode to Joy)

They sought death, hardship and worse. They sought but horror, loneliness. They sought, while surrounded by all (death, hardship, worse, horror and loneliness). They could see but not have. What they always had - immersed in glory.

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Beneath the sea of sand, drowned and buried. Aeolus above Poseidon. The tall and beautiful ones died from starvation and amnesia. Fuck them, arrogant bastards anyway.

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The Golden Bough 1834 - J. M. W. Turner

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Sight of Lutetia

Synchrony inside an asynchrony

What was not meant to be

That what should not be

The sight of a black cat

Catholic cat, apostolic

Roman Catholic cross

Crossed a heretic

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