Best of Wild Animals (No insects or snakes)
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... and she fought for it every day.
My tribute to Jo Cox
and all the other recent victims of unrestrained violence !
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
Title and song by Joni Mitchell - 1974
A view from 'The Cycle of Rebirth' bridge at the entrance of Wat Rong Khun.
Wikipedia: The main building at the white temple, the ubosot, is reached by crossing a bridge over a small lake. In front of the bridge are hundreds of outreaching hands that symbolize unrestrained desire. The bridge proclaims that the way to happiness is by foregoing temptation, greed, and desire. Next to the lake stand two very elegant Kinnaree, half-human, half-bird creatures from Buddhist mythology.
This is my Hate Submission to #AdamsPhotoChallenge Theme: Love/Hate
Click www.facebook.com/adam.lavell.359/posts/968648410199142 for information to participate in this month's challenge!
Tears of anguish streaked her face as she gazed into the fractured mirror, her reflection splintered into a mosaic of despair. Each jagged shard captured a fragment of her tormented expression, amplifying the loathing she felt for herself. The cracks in the glass seemed to echo the fissures in her heart, every line a testament to her self-directed hate. Her sobs, raw and unrestrained, filled the room with a palpable sense of desolation. She reached out with trembling hands, touching the sharp edges, as if seeking to connect with the broken image before her. The mirror's cruel distortion reflected not just her face, but the deep-seated contempt and sorrow that had taken root in her soul, turning her own reflection into a haunting reminder of her inner turmoil.
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
Original Post: sweetmel3818.wixsite.com/confessionsmidstoner/post/confes...
I have a heart of gold
So I was told
It remains warm when exposed to cold
A golden heart ‘coz of the love it holds.
People affirm I have a heart of gold
Unpossessed by hatred, untouched by fury
Undisturbed by worry, unrestrained by agony
A heart of gold free from grips of misery.
The angels sing I have a heart of gold
Nourished by goodness, fostered by kindness
Blessed with grace, filled with brightness
A heart of gold rich with unfathomable happiness.
I was born with a heart of gold
A golden heart bigger than the world
Too big, in fact, the sky can’t enfold
A golden heart that ne’er grows old.
Geraldine Fernandez
Feature
☠ Dress: .Beauty Factory. Katty Dress Black
☠ Tattoo: KAOS ABSTRACTION TATTOO
Exclusive at 101L Event Jan 19- Feb 14
☠ Eyes: Madame Noir - Origen Eyes
What I am wearing
☠ Head: LeLUTKA - Lilly
☠ Body: Maitreya
☠ Hair: Sintiklia Hair Xia Reds
☠ Candle Leg Harness: ERSCH - Lightbringer Garters
☠ Lipstick: Beaumore Spina Lipstick PACK 2
☠ Eyeshadow: KOONZ Rising Star HD Eyeshadow '
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
“Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous. Mourning something that never was - my dashed hopes, my dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey
Nature has undoubtedly mastered the art of winter gardening and even the most experienced gardener can learn from the unrestrained beauty around them.
~ Vincent A. Simeone
Oregon Grape (Mahonia acquifolium) is one of my favorite plants, For a good dose of January cheer to lift my spirits on a cold, winter day, all I have to do is look out my window where the Oregon Grape bravely blooms. I love how the yellow blooms contrast with the blue berries :)
"Nature has undoubtedly mastered the art of winter gardening and even the most experienced gardeners can learn from the unrestrained beauty around them." ~ Vincent A. Simeone
Cute pic if Serious and my SL sis Saki! He was happy to warm ip that seat for Jason! Saki was afk the whole time. So very easy to work with her!
-☠-
What I'm wearing:
☑ Tattoo: Ruin Halloween Smile by Ruin You
This devious face tattoo is available at their Mainstore!
Click here to go their Mainstore!
Socials:
Click here to check out Ruin You's flickr!
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Sweet torrents of Death
Oh engulfing ruin
Every fall is a soul
For Belial
In sinless guilt rushing
Blasts of yokeless glory
To and fro - Red ascension
Collecting souls
For Belial
For Belial
And as our voice uncovers
Another soul to the stream
Another soul devoured
For Belial
Oh lawless angel we approach thee
In the form of proudest shame
We thy children - here assembled
Now thy promised blessing claim
Promised blessing claim
Lord of arrogance - lord of pride
Fling thy unrestrained nets thrice
And let the rivers of the under world
Swiftly to the surface rise
Oh spirit of darkness we invoke thee
In the name of all things depraved
We thy servants - here forgathered
Now thy promised blessing claim
Promised blessing claim
Sweet torrents of death
Oh engulfing ruin
Every fall is a soul
For Belial
For Belial
For Belial
Angels of sweed
Ever rising decline
Every slip is a soul
For Belial
For Belial
For Belial
In sinless guilt rushing
Blasts of yokeless glory
To and fro - Red ascension
Collecting souls
For Belial
For Belial
And as our voice uncovers
Another soul to the stream
Another soul devoured
For Belial
Weeks Falls, Olallie State Park, Washington
One of the impacts of all of the rainfall we have had this Spring is that even in mid-June the rivers are running much higher than normal and waterfalls are roaring with powerful volume.
Weeks Falls, tucked away in a quiet section of Olallie State Park along the South Fork Snoqualmie River, often flows sedately for much of the year, demurely finding its way through the imposing rocks surrounding it.
After back to back atmospheric rivers dumped record June rainfall however, placidity ceded to unrestrained wildness as the falls surged with a powerful untamed energy. That energy was palpable as I stood beside it, feeling nature's force in the sound and the spray as the water defiantly pounded over and through its rocky confines
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-VIygLO4Is
SAD-EYED LADY OF THE LOWLANDS – JOAN BAEZ
My artwork is inspired by Gustav Klimt's paintings, The Tree of Life and The Kiss
Original artwork by me overlaid onto self-portrait photography
Poem inspired by …
I think of you in times of sorrow
I think of you in terms of Klimt
The Kiss that etched itself upon
my tender and so willing lips
I think of you within tomorrow
I think of you without my love
and yet I still know that you would follow
me to the ends of the earth and to Heaven above
I dwell with one foot firmly planted
rooted in my past mistakes
I ponder on that sad beginning
that ended suddenly for both our sakes
I dwell in twilight; bindweed climbing
over the wall and far away
I wonder if the never-ending
concentric circles will meet one day
I count the Fibonacci sequence
in nature and to help me sleep
perchance to dream that you are with me
stitch by stitch by knitted sheep
I watch them leap the farmer's gate
following each other blind; unrestrained
I would teach them to abandon reason
to stop themselves from the oncoming train
In my eyes you see the painful
side-effects of half-forgotten dreams
resurrected now and gainful
with someone else sewn into my seams
By my side he guides me onwards
keeps my path straight; I do not stray
not even if you were to come back now
our love, my love has faded away
Now Autumn falls and by the wayside
lost dreams and leaves are gathered gold
spun and woven into a different fabric
a new love now replaces the old.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Thanks for visiting. I am very grateful for the very kind comments and faves.
Sweet torrents of Death
Oh engulfing ruin
Every fall is a soul
For Belial
In sinless guilt rushing
Blasts of yokeless glory
To and fro - Red ascension
Collecting souls
For Belial
For Belial
And as our voice uncovers
Another soul to the stream
Another soul devoured
For Belial
Oh lawless angel we approach thee
In the form of proudest shame
We thy children - here assembled
Now thy promised blessing claim
Promised blessing claim
Lord of arrogance - lord of pride
Fling thy unrestrained nets thrice
And let the rivers of the under world
Swiftly to the surface rise
Oh spirit of darkness we invoke thee
In the name of all things depraved
We thy servants - here forgathered
Now thy promised blessing claim
Promised blessing claim
Sweet torrents of death
Oh engulfing ruin
Every fall is a soul
For Belial
For Belial
For Belial
Angels of sweed
Ever rising decline
Every slip is a soul
For Belial
For Belial
For Belial
In sinless guilt rushing
Blasts of yokeless glory
To and fro - Red ascension
Collecting souls
For Belial
For Belial
And as our voice uncovers
Another soul to the stream
Another soul devoured
For Belial
The Music: MARDUK - Souls for Belial
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Wearing:
Zibska - Zeph (facial tattoos)
Zibska - Silvius (orbits and birds)
No.Match - Passenger (hair)
Nefekalum - Fledgling (body veins)
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Check out this spooky AF pic, to the same song, by AdnaEnna
Muffling its laughter while it watches me crawl commando style on the tundra, this male White-tailed Ptarmigan glances over towards me, confident that despite the multitude of background elements, it is well hidden behind its cloak of invisibility. It’s not often you get a chance to use your macro lens to take a picture of an unrestrained bird in its natural element.
The smallest of the North American grouse, white-tailed Ptarmigan are the only year-round avian resident of these alpine areas. Their plumage turns pure white in the winter, and feathers cover their legs and toes (as seen here) for insulation.
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
Psalm 31:18 “Let lying lips be dumb, that speak against [the] righteous unrestrained with arrogance and contempt.”
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
It's july 2014, i am sitting here on some rocks, watching the sun go down, waves crash, i still don't know how to take care of my mess after so many miles on my way, i am lost in my life.
I am sitting here unaware of your existence, that one day you come out of nowhere. You appear in my life just to show me who am i and where i should go, that anon you disappear, leaving me with hard decisions to take.
Unrestrained as life itself you are.
Весна! В мечтах не надо торопиться!
Хорошее приходит постепенно!
Всё будет! Всё хорошее случится!
Природа возродится непременно!
Вдруг зазвенит ручей в лесу спросонок,
И запоют несдержанные птицы,
Вздохнёт Земля весной новорождённой,
Всё будет, всё хорошее случится.
Разбудит мир безудержное солнце,
Свой жар на этот сонный мир обрушит,
И выплеснутся тысячи эмоций,
Которые нас всех обезоружат.
Весна! В мечтах не надо торопиться!
Всё будет, пусть хоть этот снег растает.
Пусть всё само приходит постепенно,
И наши души снова расцветают!
..............................................
Spring! In dreams, do not rush!
Good things come gradually!
Everything will be fine! All good things will happen!
Nature will certainly be reborn!
Suddenly a stream will ring in the forest in a daze,
And the unrestrained birds will sing,
The Earth will sigh in the newborn spring,
Everything will happen, all good things will happen.
The unrestrained sun will wake up the world,
He will bring down his heat on this sleepy world,
And thousands of emotions will spill out,
Which will disarm us all.
Spring! In dreams, do not rush!
Everything will be fine, even if this snow melts.
Let everything come by itself gradually,
And our souls blossom again!
"...
So on it goes hurrying to the finish,
turning and circling for no goal or reason.
A red, a green, a gray go rushing by,
the shape of some child’s outline half-begun.
And time and again a smile is turned this way,
a happy one that dazzles, unrestrained
and squandered on this blind and breathless game."
Excerpt from The Merry-Go- Round by Rainier Maria Rilke
These are all lovely posed by K&S that were at Pose Fair After Dark. They were a lot of fun to use! And of course, the wonderful Mish came to pose with me!
Acrylics/mixed media on canvas 50x50 cm / 19,6x19,6 inch
EBULLITION means: an unrestrained expression of emotion like a wave or flush.. A storm of emotions, thoughts or ideas which overwhelm you.
EBULLITION will also be a première painting at my exhibition at LOVE&LOVE ART Gallery, Friday March 4th 2022, 12.30PM. Be welcome!
Laughing, laughing, and laughing again, what is it to me if the sword cuts the east wind?
大笑，大笑，还大笑，刀砍东风，于我何哉？
--杨涟
Shot at Shichahai, Beijing.
相中人刘梓晨拥有此照片的肖像权.
European hornet closeup (Vespa crabro), 10-2022, Ticino, Switzerland
My best photos are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
European hornet (Vespa crabro), 10-2022, Ticino, Switzerland
If you're interested, you can find my best photos of the WILDLIFE IN TICINO, SWITZERLAND here: fr.lacerta-bilineata.com/l%C3%A9zard-vert-occidental-lace...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
I guess you can tell by the look on its face that this is not a happy hornet. That's not unusual for hornets - truth be told, variations of "not happy" "angry", or at least "badly irritated" seem to be pretty much their natural state of mind - but what's interesting about the fella above is that he also wasn't exactly sober.
To spell it out more clearly: that was one hammered hornet. It was so drunk in fact, it couldn't fly for two seconds straight without crashing. I shot that photo in my garden last fall, but as with all my pictures, I'll try to give you a bit more context.
Every year at least one hornet queen decides that some crack or hole inside the thick stone walls of my 400-year old house in Ticino is the perfect place to raise her royal family.
That in itself wouldn't pose a problem, but if there's one thing we know about "royals", it's that they're a complicated bunch (though it has to be said for both princes William and Harry that they rarely build little palaces inside the walls of some stranger's house, but I digress).
There is a slight potential for conflict; in my experience, all hornets are born with a sweet tooth and a bad temper, and particularly when there's ripe figs in my garden, tensions can rise.
That is entirely my fault though, because I still sometimes foolishly try to negotiate the human place in the food- (or rather: fruit-) chain, despite knowing perfectly well that fig season isn't the time to want to improve human-hornet relations, as any attempt in that regard will inevitably follow the same frustrating pattern:
Human: "Oh hello there Ms Hornet, how nice to meet you here at the fig tree - isn't the weather just lovely?"
Hornet: "Bzzzzzz. I have a sting. Bzzzzz. Go away. Bzzzzz."
Human: "There is really no need to be so angry, dear Ms Hornet: we're all friends here, and there's enough figs for all of us! How are the kids, I mean... larvae?"
Hornet: "Bzzzzzz. I have a sting. Bzzzzz. Go away. Bzzzzz."
Human: "Jeez, OK - relax! I can see you have a sting, I'm going, all right? You can have all the figs Ms Hornet, see: I'm already leaving!"
Hornet: "Bzzzzz. Yes, I have a sting. Bzzzzz. Don't come back. Bzzzzz."
And that's how THAT conversation goes.
Yet despite our occasional differences (like when I nearly died of smoke inhalation because Her Royal Hornet Majesty had decided my chimney was another suitable place for her nest), I'm happy to report we generally get along quite well, unless... - well, unless the hornets are intoxicated.
It's one of nature's lesser known facts (or perhaps its dirty secret) that many of our friends in the animal kingdom occasionally like to get high, and hornets are no exception. Not on anything illegal, mind; they are law-abiding insects after all, so you won't see them smoke crack or snort cocaine (although with some hornets I wouldn't rule that out completely 😉).
No: their usual drug of choice is alcohol, which my irritable neighbors find - surprise! - in my fig tree. Once some of the overripe fruit start to ferment, their potent juices become a magnet for hornets - and that's when the trouble starts.
It should come as no surprise that "hornets and hooch" are an inherently problematic combination. Because the crux with alcohol is this: it doesn't alter your personality, it only brings out the character traits that are already there without a filter, so you just become a terribly unrestrained version of yourself when you drink too much.
Which with hornets - who aren't the most cheerful bunch even on a good day - is a recipe for disaster. They are MEAN drunks - and I'm not kidding, oh boy. All that bottled-up anger constantly boiling underneath that shiny, chitin surface from the moment they hatch is finally released into the world, and it's not a pleasant sight, let me tell you.
Alcohol REALLY doesn't seem to improve their mood, and the other animals in my garden all agree (and I concur) that the fig tree would be a much happier place if the hornets just smoked weed and listened to Bob Marley instead (if them getting high can't be avoided altogether).
To be fair though, not all hornets have a drinking problem. Most of them behave responsibly and "don't drink and fly" (which I'm sure is a motto that gets taught in hornet school from an early age). And they don't get high all year long: It's only when fall arrives that the hornets like to have a merry get-together in my fig tree to get a good "buzz on".
But you know how it is: just like with any good party, there's always the ONE guy who can't hold his liquor and basically turns into your angry, drunk uncle at Christmas who starts picking fights with every one at the dinner table and insists on letting you know - very loudly - what he thinks about Trump or Biden or the Corona virus once he's had one too many.
Which finally brings me back to the fella in the photo above, because apparently he was THAT guy. That particular "drunk uncle" hornet sat underneath the fig tree on a fallen (and pretty rotten looking) fruit and was deep into its cups. As soon as it saw me, it started to buzz angrily and seemed intent on a confrontation, but it didn't manage to get airborne for more than a second.
After a few more failed attempts to lift off and a few more angry "Bzzzzzz" sounds (I think I actually did hear the words "Trump", "Biden" and "Corona" in there 😉), it just went back to boozing on the juices of the spoiled fig on the ground.
I left it to its own devices, happy that I got this quite expressive shot. 😊
P.S. I think it was actually a crazy, drunk AUNT - not an uncle 😉)
P.P.S. Just to make sure we understand each other (maybe as a disclaimer for readers who come to this gallery for the first time and aren't familiar with my kind of humor): I love the fact that these beautiful insects visit my garden. Watching how these efficient predators hunt wasps, horseflies or other insects is incredibly fascinating (adult hornets themselves mainly feed on sugary plant juices, but they hunt because their young need protein to grow).
Hornets may seem like they're constantly angry (which to me is funny - hence this text), but they're not; they're actually very peaceful towards humans, and even when you compete for a ripe fig with them, their furious buzzing is mostly just a bluff, and I've never been stung (and I don't know anyone who has).
Due to the unfounded fear many people have of hornets, who often get exterminated because they're confused with common wasps, this species is threatened in many countries (in Germany for example, hornets are a protected species). But unless you step (or sit) on them or destroy their nest, hornets don't attack, and even when they're drunk, they are usually so incapacitated that they are completely harmless (just like your uncle/aunt 😉).
So if you have hornets in your garden, just enjoy watching them and please don't harm them! 🙏 🙏 ❤ ❤
With that being said, I hope you like the photo and wish you all a wonderful weekend! Many greetings from Switzerland, and as always: let me know what you think in the comments 🙏 😊 ❤!
Светить всегда, светить везде,
Жить с мыслью просветлённой
И разум не держать в узде –
Быть к Свету устремлённым...
В. Черченко
To shine always, to shine everywhere,
To live with an enlightened mind
And the mind unrestrained
To strive for the Light....
V. Cherchenko
"Recortes" is an incredibly dangerous tradition of non-violent dodging where local people ("recortadores") compete at dodging completely unrestrained fighting bulls for the ultimate adrenaline rush. The barehanded, unprotected participants are all the time on the verge or being gored or rammed by the bulls, which aren't physically hurt at all.
"Recortes" es una tradición increiblemente peligrosa donde las gentes de una localidad ("recortadores") compiten en esquivar de forma no violenta a toros bravos sueltos. Los participantes, a manos limpias y sin protección alguna, están contínuamente a punto de ser corneados o embestidos por los toros, los cuales no reciben daño físico alguno.
It was only yesterday, the hot summer sun burned on salt-baked skin,
it was only yesterday, nights of passion in the moonlight,
that sense of freedom denied overbearingly resurfacing,
loves burning with passion giving way to hidden fantasies
The starry nights and fireflies in the dark complicit and silent
The untold secrets hidden among the unwritten pages
Summer, season of unrestrained follies
Of heady smells and scents like the car ride on a moonlit night...
Summer....
I was determined to have a beautiful wildflower meadow this year. I planted the seeds but when they tried to come up, they were completely smothered by love-in-a-mist, grown there last year, which took over the plot in an unrestrained fashion. Perhaps my wildflowers might still have a chance once delightful but dominating nigella has finished flowering.
This is a "Muselet" - a sort of wire cage which prevents the cork in a champagne bottle from emerging too quickly due to the pressure of the contents. It prevents a cork projectile from injuring guests - and also an unfortunate loss of unrestrained bubbly! Always stay safe with Champagne!
With no confliction I summon the dark ones 👿
I DEMAND you with vengeance - Come to me you fucking demons and beasts…. I am not afraid, you cannot hurt me, you cannot break what is already broken! I am ready, eagerly here waiting for your arrival, bowing gracefully in your presence welcoming and greeting you with open arms honoring my commitment, offering myself freely without resistance so do as you must - UNRESTRAINED
Torment my disdain soul, taunt my spirit and demented mind as I am a sinner for I could not protect nor save him.... Thirstily torture me with lustful sadistic desires – Suspend me with chains and hooks through my skull, ears, eyes, nose, cheeks and dermis...
Lacerate, stab, beat, choke, bite, scratch, pick, gouge, lash, feed off and burn blistering my organic flesh leaving only bone as the flaming lipids drip quenching Gaîa as I deserve it then dribble toxic corrosive cocktails from your mouth into my open wounds off your tongue…. Watch me in delight as I wallow in my hallucinations, delusions, distortions, noise, insanity and numbness contemplating while drowning in my failures…. I can take it, I will OWN it, you will not see me quiver nor flinch.... I will unconditionally beseech for more each and every time you swipe inflicting on me OVER and OVER and OVER again
Swipe taking your best shots with full force and no holding back as I will come searching for, hunting you in the dark whispers of a celestial night standing in the shadows at the very gates of hell where I announce my presence with wailing GRROWWLLLZ while making my way through the labyrinth crawling on my bleeding cursed hands and knees dragging my persecuted feet in shame to the depths of your lair where time stands still for eternity unleashing my wrath.... Pinning you down into the deep gritty earth of consumed souls with my foot as I tare your fucking tail off with my bare hands shoving it down your throat feeding it to you whole, allowing you to breathe solely through your nostrils while taking in overwhelming contentment watching you wide eyed with dilated pupils as you gag, splatter and choke…. Slowly peeling the scales off your body one by one with my fingernails watching in amusement as they weep.... Using your horns as reins while chewing through your thoracic anatomy with clotted blood dribbling down my face, neck and all over my torso as my GRROWWLLLZ echo off the chamber walls and throughout the labyrinth while looking deep into your soul through the window of your besieged eyes begging me for redemption as I drink in sacrifice warm foaming blood with every last heartbeat from your squirting aorta punishing you for all my failures and sins if you fail your calling and duty
Revive me each time when I fade to die as there is no glory in death without a journey full of suffering and pain, I seek retribution and wish to have consciousness while relishing in your inflictions 🔪🔪🔪 upon me
GRROWWLLLZ
Please read about 🚳 My 17 year old Motorcycle Warrior 😭
Secondlife ♾️ DAILY
Big Sista Unleashed
Definition - cause (a strong or violent force) to be released or become unrestrained.
That's my Sista Spice.
Love flies, runs, leaps for joy; it is free and unrestrained. Love gives all for all, resting in One who is highest above all things, from whom every good flows and proceeds. Love does not regard the gifts, but turns to the Giver of all good gifts. Love knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds. Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength; love sees nothing as impossible, for it feels able to achieve all things. Love therefore does great things; it is strange and effective; while he who lacks love faints and fails.
-Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ
MORE POETIC, MORE HORRIBLE 01/06
Looking down from one of the old towers upon the sea of houses, we perceive in this petrification of a historic being the exact epoch that marks the end of organic growth and the beginning of an inorganic and therefore unrestrained process of massing without limit.
Oswald Spengler, Decline of The West (1926)