𝓖𝓪𝓲𝓪

The Kiss of the Sphinx.

The body was a woman who cried out into the vastness: O my counterpart, where is the path to you, so I may wrap my solitude and light your wild night, and sigh, grant me a little of your water so I may be quenched and take from my body a rapture, take what heals or what promises.

I don't know what people see in me, or what kind of shadow I carry around, that some guy who doesn't even know me feels driven to just drop his darkest, most terrifying secrets into my hands.

Had one of the weirdest convos ever in a church.

My desires are so twisted.

I was naming my sin on paper, and when I looked up, the sun had already found me between the trees.

It is veil upon veil, you are like a figure painted on a wall, you can only bite the back of your own hand.

Sew up your lips, ask nothing of the empyrean, ask nothing of the arsh the throne of God, no one knows the essence of an atom, ask whomever you like, the heavens are an upside-down cup, no stability, at once moving and unmoving, one is lost contemplating such a mystery

Tried sculpting again after a year and a half, hands shaking like crazy, rage episode hit, visual hallucinations got worse, then my nose started bleeding, somehow that just pissed me off even more.

«Adoration» by Stephan Abel Sinding

while ago, I used to go to the ocean every day and let my mind imagine how I'd die...huge waves crashing into me, breaking my ribs and pulling me under.

The Simurgh is not a bird that can be hunted or tamed, It is your complete nature once all veils have been removed, the journey to Mount Qaf is the journey toward yourself, the Self that transcends your limited identity.

While we mistake this openness for our own immortality.

The soul the absolute "I", is eternally alive, we are inwardly open to this impersonal, timeless, spaceless One, for it, there is no death, no change, no annihilation. It is the infinite source from which our lives emerge and into which we return.

There’s a kind of emotional precision in the way he writes about grief, memory, fear, and human fragility that feels incredibly rare.

Il n’arrêtait pas de dire.. « Possède-moi »

The true one is hidden behind multiplicity, the authentic resemblance is concealed behind difference, the intimate connection is hidden behind apparent fragmentation.

"who will teach my non-being how to be"