say "thank u mr Angel of Browser History" or face the single catastrophe which keeps piling digital wreckage at your feet

I’m dumb with it. I’m dumb with wonder.

Aphrodite, pressing her richly adorned sandal into the forehead of Chtonius, supine on a heap of cadavers, fixed her full strength on the lance, the felled demon would molder, becoming food for forest vegetation, but the foam-born goddess was destined for countless more victories

31 is youth, r-right?

"This resembles a passage through your soul," he realized how three distinct modes of beauty - the aesthetic order, the cherished order of the natural world, and the feminine order of undiminished allure - mingled together in his soul in a peculiar dimension of sorcery and dream.

At times their surroundings became nothing but quiet sparkle, as if they existed within vast turquoise. The dark seawater filled with large gem clusters extended by the stars, and the silhouettes on one shore sauntered by as if chasing after rowboats on the other side.

do you have a hole in your heart? fill it with a new calendar. may 2026 - may 2027 infinity8rocks.com/

Saint Elmo’s fire

Mifella

“The female twin dies giving birth to fire; then she descends under the ground. The male twin pursues her but finds her decomposing and giving birth to monsters.” “She’s decomposing and yet she’s still giving birth?” “Only to monsters.”

An enormous fish with bulging eyes and a bloated body and scales shining with putrescence swam around leering like an elderly roué.

He was an angular bug-eyed man with a sad sick face.

The mosquitoes enjoyed it too as they sat on the arms and faces of their hosts, inserting their probosces through the skin and into the veins, drinking the thick, rich blood to satiation, raising little hard hillocks on the flesh as monuments to their visitation.

A love agappe

the stump-puller, the earth-shaker, the fire-eater, the boast-stopper, the measure-taker, the question-settler, the no-obstacle-brooker

Slip the boat from its mooring, Let Maria cross. Maria is a sorceress, She crosses dry-shod. (Song to train parrots)

The home was the quintessential bourgeois world, for in it, and only in it, could the problems and contradictions of his society be forgotten or artificially eliminated.

The river ahead is now seen in three dimensions, for the billow of fog, lizardlike, moves, loop after loop, through the meadow bottom, like tired smoke asking only to descend and sleep.

they had escaped from their lives and duties, escaped from home and friends and run away together with wild and radiant hearts to a new adventure

This, I fancy, must be the sea. Grey is the landscape; dim as ashes; the water murmurs and moves. If I fall on my knees, if I go through the ritual, the ancient antics, it's you, unknown figures, you I adore; if I open my arms, it's you I embrace, you I draw to me —adorable world