we have no scientific instruments that can verify the claims of seers who talk to plant spirits. absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, and besides, is the subjective experience of millions of believers since the dawn of time not evidence? obviously, it’s unscientific to go beyond the evidence so far as to say it isn’t.Read More building bridges: sharing of nwyfre
he’s been evolving a bit.Read More Pwyll
if livin were a thing that money could buy, the rich would live and the poor would die, all my trials soon be over.Read More all my trials, folksong.
if somebody please would explain to bilby
wtf wuth thet symbl?
the tide may very well return, yes,
if this is a good planet, the tide might turn…
egg of my dreaming spirit asleep under whose airy wings cloud downy, softer than love spread all-wise, all-ways around you alight with the dazzle of seeing flashing in lively moments of glittering meanings memory passions and principles of play do you dream my life so vividly eager to give and be given to eager to […]Read More egg of my dreaming – a poem
probably one of the most accurate, truthful, substantial accounts of this kind of fairy encounter in existence. some people who have read it have rhapsodised. others have responded with a loud, resounding silence …Read More my fairy book
‘We told you,’ said the rat, ‘in… stench. In roaring, shrieking, text-rich, sensitively detailed, totally articulate, operatically eloquent, quintessentially consummate perfect miracles of stench, illustrated in nervy, fraught visual arrangements of variegated grunge pointed up with pithy pellets of filth. But then you’re illiterate, aren’t you?’Read More The Contract: a story.
elixir deep in the sacred centre of my genesisthe root of my craeb the fountain of my spiritthe loud-crying stone of my validationthe spark of my flame’s ignitionthere are my many destinies, infinite and eternal like seeds sometimes I feel I could reach through the marbled liquid layers of my years to the first cry […]Read More elixir, a poem
sheila awoke in a strange bed in a weird little room all angles and planes and the little man bringing her in a cup of tea. he seemed very pleased. the teacup looked hopelessly tiny, but as she reached for it it became just the right size, yet didn’t seem to have changed. the tea was delicious and gave her strength. the little man showed her a beautiful green dress and a pair of green leather shoes, and told her to put them on and come downstairs.Read More whatever happened to sheilah?
Originally posted on The 11th House:
Being in two places at once isn’t as hard as it sounds—not since Huge Everett’s Many-Worlds Theory became widely accepted. The MWT resolves inconsistencies in physics by describing a universe branching with every choice, seeding countless parallel worlds where different events occur. Being aware of multiple ‘realities’ simultaneously isn’t…
but gods though they were, they were, like us, gods mediating their divinity through the limiting, still somewhat distortive mind and imagination of the mortal human being and they sometimes quarrelled and snitched at each other though they were always ashamed, and they were always sorry after.Read More inevitably, satan, centre stage.