Difference between revisions of "Selena/Hooks"
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'''"... and I survived the end of the fucking world."'''<br><div style="text-align: right; direction: ltr; margin-left: 1em;">- Robert Morse, ''Space Beast''</div><br> | '''"... and I survived the end of the fucking world."'''<br><div style="text-align: right; direction: ltr; margin-left: 1em;">- Robert Morse, ''Space Beast''</div><br> | ||
| − | Existence is a bittersweet poison. The honeyed song of hope lies just around every corner, but just out of reach. All the world is a chess board for powers eldritch and incomprehensible. Though the fires of Gehenna loom just over the horizon, the world is cold and growing colder by the day. Let's huddle together against the chill of the Final Nights and | + | Existence is a bittersweet poison. The honeyed song of hope lies just around every corner, but just out of reach. All the world is a chess board for powers eldritch and incomprehensible. Though the fires of Gehenna loom just over the horizon, the world is cold and growing colder by the day. Let's huddle together against the chill of the Final Nights and await doom to come upon all the world with the warmth of good company.<br><br> |
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Revision as of 01:45, 5 August 2018
Themes
- Strength in fragility
- Radiance in anguish
- Enlightenment through tribulation
- Family among monsters
- Loss, grief, and growth
- Faith, heresy, and the occult
- Trauma and mental illness
"... and I survived the end of the fucking world."
Existence is a bittersweet poison. The honeyed song of hope lies just around every corner, but just out of reach. All the world is a chess board for powers eldritch and incomprehensible. Though the fires of Gehenna loom just over the horizon, the world is cold and growing colder by the day. Let's huddle together against the chill of the Final Nights and await doom to come upon all the world with the warmth of good company.
"It's small, and it's broken, but it's mine."
The Sword of Caine. Mi hermanxs en el jardin de la Madre. What makes your heart burn? What sets your soul to song? What weights press on you in your days of restless slumber? Whatever may pass, my Brothers and Sisters: I am here for you. Until victory, or until all the world is rendered to cinders.
"You have before you the mystery of which men have dreamed throughout the centuries. Thousands have died an agonizing death in hopes of just a glimpse of what you're about to see."
You live and so you suffer. You drown your anguish in indulgences or ascetic destitution. You learn nothing and then, eventually, you die. Sometimes-- lucky us-- you even get to remain conscious to suffer more. You discover new indulgences or a better capacity to starve yourself-- and then you die again one day. There is another way. You are more than you can possibly imagine. Come into my grove and let me show you your grandeur.
