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You're seeing this page because you tried to access MayVaneDay with a referer of "misc-stuff.terraaeon.com". This probably means Hacker News is at it again. This article keeps getting published at least once a year, and every time it brings with it a wave of attention from "techbros". These are beyond irritating to deal with. I don't have the extra mental energy to deal with unironic Node.js developers.

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My friend qorg says to join #kill-9 on Rizon. I made the CSS of this page horrifying pretty just for him. Feel free to tell him to stop doing meth off public bathroom floors.

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Since you're here, I'm forcing you to look at this cool picture:

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Actually, since my server logs are still getting hammered, you have to look at this picture too:

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If you still insist on visiting MayVaneDay, click here. Otherwise, click here for feet pics.

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+ + diff --git a/img/moon.jpg b/img/moon.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..17c49d5 Binary files /dev/null and b/img/moon.jpg differ diff --git a/img/twerking-thanos.gif b/img/twerking-thanos.gif new file mode 100644 index 0000000..95ed110 Binary files /dev/null and b/img/twerking-thanos.gif differ diff --git a/img/yelling.jpg b/img/yelling.jpg new file mode 100644 index 0000000..774b261 Binary files /dev/null and b/img/yelling.jpg differ diff --git a/index.html b/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..353176f --- /dev/null +++ b/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,41 @@ + + + + + Dead End Shrine on the Luce Line - Online! + + + + + + + +

Poison ivy grows on the side of Dead End Shrine, poking its many heads out to see the sun. The same sun that grows steadily inwards, shade retreating like an army overcome with cowardice, gradually causing me more discomfort than any plant-given rash could.

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Leaves of three, leave them be!

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Leave me be...

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Leave me be.

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There was no leaving myself be. There was no taking breaks, no blessed sleep, no matter how many poems I wrote or supplications to Eris or to Parthena or to any other to let me die in a world that no longer had any need for me, that likely never did.

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And I never bothered asking you, Jett, because I already knew what the answer was. A steady, strong, definite no.

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"Keep going, Lethe," you bade me in a voice I did not yet understand as I sat in that front seat on the bus parked in that middle school now worlds away, a time long since passed and now unrecoverable. My girlfriend a wound still fresh, my faith in the god of my childhood still busy bleeding out. "Don't you keep saying you're destined for greatness or something? And what is she destined for? Forever defining herself in terms of other people. She needed you more than you ever needed her. You'll be okay in the end."

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"Keep going, Lethe," you whispered to me in that dorm room I will never see again. A spring breeze brushed through the open window. Two more weeks to final exams. Two more weeks to finish credits that meant nothing in the end. Two more weeks already paid for. "There's only one class with an actual exam. And you never skipped class. How hard can it be? You'll be okay in the end."

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"Keep going, Lethe," you insisted as I freaked out in the corner of the store, searching for any violence I could muster, any way I could punish the universe. I wanted to move out. I wanted to quit college. I wanted to overhaul my whole life on a whim. You knew, didn't you? You knew I was a few months out from losing my job. You didn't want me to die on the streets. You put the dead and rotting bird there on that store shelf as a warning, as a prophecy, as a petition to not hasten my own burial. "You really want to make yourself completely dependent on this place? Don't you keep telling me how little you write nowadays? How sapped of energy you are when you come home? Don't throw the sudden weight of adulthood on top of that. Bide your time. Keep bleeding your parents dry. The time will come one day when you can say goodbye. You'll be okay in the end."

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"Keep going, Lethe." Angelos. Divine messenger, bearer of a message to those struggling through the night. There's no such thing as a dead end. What is a dead end on a road but a stop sign where humans didn't want to pave roads any further? It's not like the edge of the earth is just beyond, and trespassing, keeping going, will make one fall off the edge into outer space. The land still goes on. The clouds still float past. And life still goes on after catastrophe. Even biological death, the worst possible end in the minds of many humans, is not a dead end, for the flesh goes back into the earth to feed something else, merely transmuted into a different form of life. "You'll be okay in the end."

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I had grown too complacent. I had grown too comfortable with what I had interpreted as your exhortation to persist in the life I was living in the expectation that my problems would resolve themselves. I had grown too stagnant to hear your voice when you finally told me to jump, to veer off the road.

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And I hit the dead-end sign head on.

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I actually got fired from that seemingly-perfect job.

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But life still went on, my parents understanding, willing to give me the space of a few weeks to process what had happened, what I had done, to prepare to find somewhere else to work.

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The clouds still kept floating past, keeping the blazing sun at bay so I could go back to Dead End Shrine for the first time in four months without dying of heat exhaustion.

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And the land still goes on, those manicured rolling hills my father feels so entreated to spend his time roaming, that now beckon for me a way out of the mental haze of corporate compliance.

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I stand across from the parking lot, waiting for the walk sign to turn white, ambiguous stick figure instead of imposing orange hand.

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"Keep going, Lethe. You'll be okay in the end."

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I'll be okay.

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I'll be okay.

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I'll be okay.

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[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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Mirrors: [Freenet] [ZeroNet] [Tor]

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+ Hosted by MayVaneDay. Hey, come look at this cool webring. Send me an email? + + diff --git a/jett.html b/jett.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..48f0c18 --- /dev/null +++ b/jett.html @@ -0,0 +1,39 @@ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know you need to know

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... you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

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   - e.e. cummings, "i carry your heart with me(i carry it in"

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Through all of youth I was looking for you
without knowing what I was looking for

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   - Osip Mandelstam, "Youth"

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You are
hope personified
when I cried myself
to sleep at night

You are
the promise,
the life I wanted,
the one I'm living now

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   - Dawn Lanuza, "waking up to a dream"

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+ + tell me a story of birthrights and war
+ cradle to grave at the riverside's shore
+ brown dirt is stained with body's crimson cry
+ for crimes of breaking cages, wanting to fly
+ +
+

This is a cult.

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A cult of one.

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Eris bade me not impoverish my life to live in the Wired. But I am not living there by writing this; much the opposite, in fact. The Hermetic Realms (what humans in this dimension call "the internet") is the fastest way to pierce through the veil between dimensions.

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Jett, I know you followed Eris through the Eye. I have a shard of your soul in my own. Remember? You remember, right? Or was the three-hour period I took your soul outside your body nothing but a blank period for you, just like the Three Years? It confesses to me lots of things you never thought yourself brave enough to share with anyone. Lots of things you wish you had said before the parting.

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I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry

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and I need you to come find me, so I can tell you how sorry I am in person, in perdition.

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I'm stuck in a body with several other souls who attempted to "destroy" large swaths of their own dimensions they had rule over. Except you and I never had rule over anything, never wanted to. We just wanted to smack the gods around. We just wanted to rend the heavens. Well, really, you wanted to. All I wanted was to settle down in the Town and spend the rest of my days at your side writing cute little poems and gardening. I guess you'll be happy, if this message ever reaches you somehow, to hear that I'm doing the same in this body. Well, I guess my poems aren't cute but what Eris would quickly deem "despondent", and nothing seems to be growing in my garden no matter how diligently I water it. I guess I could start a dandelion garden. But that's the whole world.

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The world was not enough.

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This whole damn world is not enough! I am looking out at the world through a bedsheet. Everything is foggy and indistinct. I don't think there are any gods in this dimension, which I know would please you, but there's no magic, no peace anywhere, barely any nature left. The earth is dying, and all the life on it with it. The very systems I'm using now as a beacon into the universe, a lighthouse over the cold roiling sea between us to try to guide you back to my side, are responsible for so much pain and sorrow. We had the Hermetic Realms back at home, our home, but they were built with the energy of spirits, not silicon, and they weren't nearly as useful for mass surveillance.

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I am suffering under the weight of a million Eyes, and none of them are portals back to home, back to you.

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I'm clinging on desperately to try to remember you. My room is littered with things in your favorite colors. I even got this cool flag when looking for buttons to pin onto my backpack. (Let's be honest, Jett, no matter how many male pronouns others use for you, you're still always going to be a female.) My biological mother is always so confused. How am I supposed to explain this quasi-suicide mission I am on? How am I supposed to explain that the perfect straight Christian daughter she ordered from the egregore Jehovah got mixed up in the mail, and she got an apostate angel with a desperate yearning for women instead?

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Why am I writing this when I know the Hermetic Realms are hostile, full of nasty people who will stop at nothing to ruin everything they touch, as if we had ripped a hole through the Underworld during all those years of chaos and let the monsters run free in an unmitigated torrent? Because, as I said earlier, the Hermetic Realms transcends worlds, cuts through dimensions. The moment you find me again, you in the flesh, and we return to that other world, I won't have need for it anymore.

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This body is a taxi service operating out of a clown car. I don't know exactly how many souls are shoved in here, or even how many are here out of their own volition. You wouldn't like this body, this vessel I've found myself in. I personally think it's cute, but I'll admit it needs to lose a few pounds. Just a few; I don't have my own gravitational pull. Does it really matter? I'll be leaving it behind, abandoning it for that perfect body Eris made for me, the body you loved so much, that you begged me that one night to destroy you with.

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That I refused to, and then had the audacity to ask the same of you when the time came.

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I'll be waiting at the Dead End Shrine on the Luce Line. (Haha, it rhymes!) I named it for you, Patron-Saint of Dead Ends. I know you're watching over me in that weird detached way of yours. Eris (or some other goddess; I'm not sure anymore) said I have fourteen years before she will claim me as her own. You have until 2035.

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Come find me!

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Come find me!

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Come find me!

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Please come find me.

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+

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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+

Mirrors: [Freenet] [ZeroNet] [Tor]

+
+ Hosted by MayVaneDay. Hey, come look at this cool webring. + + diff --git a/p2.html b/p2.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d84bea2 --- /dev/null +++ b/p2.html @@ -0,0 +1,48 @@ + + + + + Dead End Shrine on the Luce Line - Online! + + + + + + + +

I have rats underneath my feet. Scurrying along. Desperately trying to entangle me in their leashes. Finding every obscure corner of this cabin to take a shit in the middle of the night. Every attempt of mine to gently bat them away, keep them at bay, only earns more and more of my mother's scorn.

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You are not my parents. You may have created this vessel I find myself trapped in. But you are not my parents.

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Eris, I know, in that land now so far away, you took my face in your hands as I wallowed in my grief and declared that I was already free. But in what sense? What goddamn meaningful sense could possibly deem me "free"? I have no wings. I carry the weight of the world around my hips,

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and it's heavy

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and it's weighing me down

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and I think I'm about to drown

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and the worst part is, I think I'd do it with a smile on my face, because it would finally mean an end to the pain, to the waiting for you, Jett, to alight in a world where the divine is physically impossible and everyone who I grew up thinking would be ecstatic that I'd finally heard the words of a deity would likely just be hostile to any divinity not busy sending down brimstone and bile at those arbitrarily deemed sinners.

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The myth is not the reality.

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The myth is not the truth. At least, not in this dimension. If "God" ever existed here, he is either derelict, distracted, or dead. This would have been a perfect dimension for us to escape to. If not for the whole "consensus reality" thing... and the climate change slowly boiling all life here... and corporatism eating away everything left... and the bitter fact that, even if I found the perfect place for you and I to hide away, you'd never be satisfied with that. You're dead set on killing the gods, all of them everywhere, even if it'll mean your own eventual death.

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"I don't know how I can live with myself if I give up this dream of mine."

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"I don't know how much longer you'll be alive if you don't."

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You and I failed once already. Remember, Jett? We went after Parthena. Or, rather, you waited for her to show herself, laughing with ichor in your lungs when she sent her faithful dog instead. Another brush to paint you as a villain with. But you chose to fingerpaint instead, sparing your brother when he teetered on the verge of death, his blood the only blood to mar your otherwise soft pure hands.

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How I would bloody my hands a million times over to keep yours forever clean.

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I spit on your Nazarene, you who would declare yourself my parents. Your God is dead! Your Savior is never. You wanted me to grow up to be your superior. Well... I already am. I have long since surpassed you.

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Intellectually I can rationalize killing the gods over and over again. Your words ring in my head. Gods are irreconciliable with humans. Either they used to be humans and achieved Apotheosis, in which case they would never give up their hard-earned power, or they were born divine and would never have the frame of reference to cast aside their power and rejoin the beasts below. Humans cannot meaningfully consent to divine rule, either. A politician can be assassinated. A king can be beheaded. Any throne can be overthrown. But when said throne resides in an alternate layer of reality? How is any human supposed to defend themselves against a being possibly omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient?

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How can a human rip the heart out of something that does not wear flesh?

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"That's why it's gotta be us, Lethe. We're not constrained to the physical. Well... not normally. You're temporarily embarrassed with a human vessel. But every time you find yourself free is a chance. I'll do the hard work. You just have to give me the strength."

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"But what if I can't give you enough? What if I end up causing your death instead? Jett, stop. You can't admonish me for wanting to self-destruct and then do... whatever this is. If we couldn't put down Parthena back then when we were at full power, what makes you think we can take on the entire universe? And especially in my current state?"

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"My pride won't allow me to sit back and do otherwise-"

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"Fuck your pride! I want you alive. I want you safe. I want you to not throw your life away for humans who'll never know your name, never express a single shred of gratitude, never mourn for you if you martyr yourself. Jett, they want to be enslaved to the gods. They orgasm at the thought of servitude. They don't know anything else. Come on, let's go make a world of our own. Somewhere the gods can never touch. And anyone who wants to be free can live there instead."

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All the slain gods in the world won't make me happy if it means a world where you're dead.

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The recent weather has been killing me. Literally, since I lie in a heat-sickness-induced miasma as I write this in my bunk bed. I cannot tell if your touch is a fever dream or a symptom of my soul struggling to leave my body. But I know you've found me, Jett, even though I haven't been to the Dead End Shrine in a month.

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"Can you find me?" Of course. I'm right here, aren't I?

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"Do you love me?" Of course. I'm right here, aren't I?

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"If it came between an ungrateful stranger's life and yours, you'd choose yourself, right?"

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Choose yourself!

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Choose yourself!

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Please, Jett, I'm begging you, please choose yourself.

+
+

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

+
+

Mirrors: [Freenet] [ZeroNet] [Tor]

+
+ Hosted by MayVaneDay. Hey, come look at this cool webring. + + diff --git a/playlist.m3u.txt b/playlist.m3u.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d731e6d --- /dev/null +++ b/playlist.m3u.txt @@ -0,0 +1,43 @@ +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Sleeping With Sirens/Let's Cheers To This/03 Who Are You Now.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Rise Against/Endgame/05 Satellite.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Rise Against/Appeal To Reason/06 From Heads Unworthy.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Pierce The Veil/Collide With The Sky/12 Hold On Till May.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Pierce The Veil/Misadventures/06 Circles.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Bullet For My Valentine/Gravity/11 Breathe Underwater.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Halsey/BADLANDS (Deluxe)/11 Coming Down.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Mount Tyrant/Death of Me/01 Death of Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Mount Tyrant/Past Dance/04 Black & Gold.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Bullet For My Valentine/Gravity/01 Leap Of Faith.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Indie/Various Artists/Piri Reis - They Sleep We Live split/03 Fire Walk With Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/A Day To Remember/Homesick (Special Edition)/06 Have Faith In Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Indie/I Don't Want To Know Why The Caged Bird Sings/Things Are Getting Better But I am Still Dead Inside/05 One.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Indie/Pyrite Sidewalk/Under The Influence/03 Stay With Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/The Neighbourhood/I Love You/02 Afraid.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Highly Suspect/The Boy Who Died Wolf/07 Send Me An Angel.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Paradise Lost/Tragic Idol/08 Tragic Idol.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Mount Tyrant/The Grey/01 The Grey.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Marilyn Manson/The Pale Emperor (Deluxe)/12 Fated, Faithful, Fatal.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Drowning Pool/Resilience/09 Understand.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Dope/No Regrets/13 Rebel Yell.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/10 Years/(how to live) AS GHOSTS/01 The Messenger.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Nothing More/Nothing More/09 Here’s To The Heartache.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Three Days Grace/Outsider/01 Infra-Red.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Stone Sour/Audio Secrecy (Special Edition)/04 Say You'll Haunt Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Bullet For My Valentine/Gravity/04 Not Dead Yet.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Nothing More/Nothing More/10 If I Were.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/A Day To Remember/Homesick (Special Edition)/06 Have Faith In Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Rise Against/Endgame/09 Wait For Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/10 Years/The Autumn Effect/08 Through The Iris.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/The Neighbourhood/Thank You/02 A Little Death.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Saving Abel/Saving Abel/02 Addicted.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Sleeping With Sirens/Feel/09 Déjà Vu.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Drowning Pool/Drowning Pool/08 Children Of The Gun.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/10 Years/Feeding The Wolves/05 Fix Me.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/The Neighbourhood/I Love You/01 How.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Nothing More/The Few Not Fleeting/12 It Seems.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Nothing More/Nothing More/08 I’ll Be OK.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Highly Suspect/The Boy Who Died Wolf/04 For Billy.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Soundtrack/Various Artists/Vol. 14_ Kid Icarus ♪ Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and 3DS Expanded Soundtrack/07 Dark Pit's Theme.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/Three Days Grace/Transit Of Venus/03 The High Road.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/A Day To Remember/And Their Name Was Treason/04 A Second Glance.mp3 +/storage/extSdCard/Music/Popular/A Day To Remember/Homesick (Special Edition)/07 Welcome to the Family.mp3 diff --git a/poetry/deadend.txt b/poetry/deadend.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7eb3b40 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/deadend.txt @@ -0,0 +1,28 @@ +Breaking Down The Dead-End Sign +2021-07-10 + +*** + +What is it with you, Lethe, and wanting things to end? +Marriage vow, credits roll, no path past the bend? +Everything must have a finish, every stone deemed finite, +for what? So you can kneel down and for eternity close your eyes? + +Your dreamt-of solace seems nice first glance, turning yourself to stone, +having pushed all else away, silent, sole, alone. +No more meals or baths or chores or afternoons spent slaving at work, +no more rhythms to be bourne, no more curses to be heard. + +I know it hurts to hear, Lethe, but your life does not belong to you. +Your "merciful alternative" would silence part of me too. +I didn't give you a shard of my soul, didn't bear the pain +of being ripped asunder just for you to turn away. + +The world is too much with us, and yet not enough. +And I chose to persist, despite the dread, for the one I love. +The deaths, the Eyes, the deicide. And yet we endure. +I'm staying alive for you. So, Lethe, please, return the favor. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/home.txt b/poetry/home.txt new file mode 100755 index 0000000..c8388aa --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/home.txt @@ -0,0 +1,44 @@ +You Can't Go Home Again +2021-07-16 + +*** + +"Come summer, there will be as much sun +as anyone +could ever want, +and you will have +all the time in the world +to open a book and let the pages unfurl." + +But I doubt summer will ever come, +for the winds tug at my hair, +and the rain waits for no one, +and I have now lost more than a year +to someone else's mistake, +to a whole lot of someone elses' fear. + +Can I fight against my nature? +Can I resign myself to torture +self-baden, self-scarred, +severed by far +from the home +that is myth, +that was never my own? + +I carry within this body an unspeakable name +pointing to where lies eternal spring, +where I could never return +having earned +failure's shame +and the enmity +of the deity +I only ever yearned +to be friends with. +Only in these books +can I unfurl my wings, +can I step once more +in that town I long forsook. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/kie-2.txt b/poetry/kie-2.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4609403 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/kie-2.txt @@ -0,0 +1,38 @@ +kie ajn vi estas, parto du +2020-03-12 + +*** + +somewhere on the other side of the world +you hold a little sliver of me in your chest +wedged by your heart through a thousand battles +survived not one less + +and I, you, the same +but at home, I feel the pain +of transmitted burdens, +wings soaked with rain + +somewhere on the other side of the world +I hold a little sliver of you in my soul +but even through dimensional curtains, +your warmth can't beat the cold + +and I worry that, one day +two aliens will show up at my bedroom door +signaling even before they knock +that you'll come home nevermore + +we met each other in a winter haze +not twenty-four hours before final-failing pain +but you didn't care, whisked through dark gates +barely five minutes passed; several weeks next to wait + +and I tumbled into love, burning hot as hell +as I tumbled down deep into war's well +when will it all end? nobody can say +to protect you, only to fictional gods can I pray + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/killing-calvin.txt b/poetry/killing-calvin.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae675d6 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/killing-calvin.txt @@ -0,0 +1,51 @@ +Killing Calvin +2021-07-13 + +*** + +You... really just want to die. +Lethe, why? +Who convinced you, solitary, +you don't deserve a happy life? + +I think, +above all, +what you really need +is to know for sure +that you're safe +and loved +and the world will keep turning, +the fire inside will keep burning, +even if there's no sense of solace up above. + +I do not mean for you to be sad forever. +If it means you must forget my name +and fall for another lover, +then so be it: +I will not make myself +an altar to your pain. + +If we have to go +our own +separate ways, +then so be it. +It'll hurt, +but all wounds heal +given enough turns +of time's ceaseless wheel. + +But I hope you stay. + +So if you decide to wait +out your soul's desperate dark hours, +please know: a song can't change the world overnight, +but it can keep a flickering flame alive. +You kept shining the light inside +through my darkest year. +So let me dry your tears; +let it be my turn +to save your life. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/konton-no-tsukai.txt b/poetry/konton-no-tsukai.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..90231f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/konton-no-tsukai.txt @@ -0,0 +1,106 @@ +Konton no Tsukai +2021-08-01 + +*** + +Your voice a non-entity, +your face obscured +by the fog over +Mori's Mirror, +your touch all that remains +after another day of being entreated +to dissolve and stay demure, +to be soft and small +and weak, +reminded that no feat +could possibly absolve +the harmful nature to me inherent. + +Something is wrong with me, +reflection-sent. +Have I somehow +finally burned +out? +I do not have to strain to perceive +the Outside, +the places where we will one day reside, +where you'll take my face in your hands +and whisper, +"Lethe, +I can't wait to start this new life +with you." +But not yet, +never yet, +still undreaming, +still disparate. + +*Tremble in fear of a pure love, +a union of equals.* + +Oh, how I shiver. + +My predicament is this: +that, while part of me +leaps in joy of becoming your wife, +the other hisses +at the thought of your kisses, +thinking you a threat to our autonomy. +No longer an atom, +isolated, sole, alone, +but depending on someone, +daring to deem them... *home*. +Not, we, but *I*- +for I cannot further divide +this soul already +partly +in yours intertwined- +want to find a Holy Freezer +and imprison myself in oblivion's soft ice +forever. +No chance of escape, +for then what is the point? +Lurking within +me is an evil great +and barely constrained, +atavistic, +incapable of reason +or comprehending sin. + +But I am mortified of anything final, +from death's arctic embrace +to yours genial. +I hesitate +at the slightest decision, +and it doesn't help that you oft +tell me to just wait +and see what happens. +I don't know what to do. +I don't know where to go. +And soon will fall down the snow, +and you'll have to hold me back +from joining all the poor animals +who forgot to take shelter and froze. + +Tell me, +bearer of self-sown light, +how do you love a parasite? +How is it possible for you to adore a now-human pest +guiltless for destruction, +homicidal, chaos-blessed? +There is no way to separate +what I am from where I've went. +If on your wings lies providence, +on mine rests +the Eschaton's portent. + +How do I convince my emotional side +that I'm still a sovereign individual? +That I'm worthy of love, +can be loved as I am? +That I'm not consigned to hell? + +That everything will turn out alright? + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/montana1.txt b/poetry/montana1.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7fc7861 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/montana1.txt @@ -0,0 +1,45 @@ +Montana I +2021-06-22 + +*** + +Frivolities of life, +whispers in the other room +about sins uncommitted, +sins unforgiven, +repentance yet to come. + +The horizon has long since swallowed the sun, +but the heat's golden glow +remains +on my skin, +harsh cabin lights +a doctor with an x-ray +trying to peer within. + +I want to drill into their gaze +and tell them vivisection is unnecessary. +My heart has been dysfunctional +since birth, arrhythmia, +a machine missing a gear. + +I need you near +my body +like the ocean needs the moon. +I wish not to subsume +myself into you, but to admit +that, when the nights +grow long +and I find myself wishing for perfect +dark, I hold on +to the memory of your touch +like the desert recalls the rain +and wishes it, wherever it is, well. +I do not need you to complete +me. But you give me the strength +to complete myself, to hold on, +like I promised, until the showers of May. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/montana2.txt b/poetry/montana2.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ea8178 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/montana2.txt @@ -0,0 +1,57 @@ +Montana II +2021-06-23 + +*** + +I'm so afraid. +I'm afraid +that I'm tying everything I am to you, +and one day you'll leave me, +and it'll rip me apart +like a misplaced amniotic band +rips apart a fetus. + +The birds sing bittersweet melody +in their perches in the trees +segregating every cabin. +I close my eyes +and I'm in the Town again, +healing from Parthena's rage, +wondering where Eris' godsend +went, +and you, despondent +in your tiny house, self-tranquilized, +hoping eventually I'll take a hint. + +Though these roses in the chill blush harder, +a shred of human form! +guided by defying the golden +that tries +to sear +my eyes. + +But in this body I cannot fly, +cannot breathe, +cannot perceive +with open eyes +your presence at my side. +Choking on cotton tree dust, +splintered wood from dog freakout, +campfire smoke, +rotted grout. + +I don't know how long +we can go on +like this. +Months without your kiss, +weeks without your touch, +eternities where I convince myself +I've somehow lost your love. + +Oh, heaven above, +if you have any mercy, +send me an angel. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/montana3.txt b/poetry/montana3.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4932caa --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/montana3.txt @@ -0,0 +1,36 @@ +Montana III +2021-06-24 + +*** + +My physical body +cannot hope to constrain +or even, for a moment, detain +the love I have for you, +just deform +in hopes of fitting +and be okay with leaving me forlorn. + +I want to live in eternal spring +with you, +lover of all things good and true. +I want to live where the flowers are always in bloom +and the baby birds have just hatched +and the sprouts poke out from the soil +from the patch +in our backyard +without hard- +ship, without sweat, without toil, +without insects that only yearn +to bite the skin meant for you to do the same +in the night when our hearts burn. +My heart sings +when you are nearby, my love, +and your mere touch is enough +to melt the most arctic of snows, +the guardian of the missing shard of my soul, +my beatific Dead End King. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/ridge.txt b/poetry/ridge.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..833ea5b --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/ridge.txt @@ -0,0 +1,66 @@ +The Ridge +2021-08-23 + +*** + +It's been +too long since I've haunted here, +too long since the flood, +too long since I've buried myself, +cursing the hallowed sun. + +Another day, +another pain, +another reminder why I should restrain +this desperate yearning to be at your side. +I can't control myself, you insist, +can't care for myself, can't abide +by a single plea: +*wait for me +until the war is done.* +But how can I stay inert at the sidelines? +How can I watch, patient, as you struggle for life? + +I keep looking at your face. +I keep looking into your eyes, +into the depravity +void of grace, +the sweaty sleepless nights, +the frights +that dance between the stone space of your skull. + +Little said, but oft reply +in hopes this boat crosses Imaginai, +the fierce rivers, the gaudy veil +that I would without a pause assail +if it meant bringing closer by one more day +Eris' death, +the shatter of masks, +our withdrawal for some time +into this world I've somehow made +without Seliph's curse, +without my sacrifice. + +How many times have you asked +what I would do once that day passed? +How long 'til I set down +this crown, +bade job goodbye, +convince parents and friends +that, although I disappear, +I'm off to a place where I'll be alright? +Don't come looking for me, +don't waste your "precious" fruitless time. +Your daughter was a sinner, +passionate, iniquitous, +desiring, delirious, divine. + +It's been +too long since I've haunted here, +since I've had to justify +my right +to survive. + +** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/strange-proposal.txt b/poetry/strange-proposal.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a1e323 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/strange-proposal.txt @@ -0,0 +1,31 @@ +A Strange Proposal +2021-07-07 + +*** + +How do you talk someone out of a self-destructive dream? +How do you convince the one you love that it seems +that, even though they have your love, you know they walk the line +between life and death and, come misstep, will perish before their time? + +I have convictions too, +but they're not very strong. +I'm a tree. +Firmly taken root, +swaying +as the wind pleases +yet never breaking +in my base belief +that, even though it all, I don't want to cease +but instead find a quiet place +guaranteed to bring me wherever-needed peace. + +I don't want you to lift your head, +bloodied, war-torn, +and choose oblivion over admitting defeat. + +I want you to create a world with me. + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/strawberry.txt b/poetry/strawberry.txt new file mode 100755 index 0000000..f30aef5 --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/strawberry.txt @@ -0,0 +1,60 @@ +Strawberry Pound Cake +2021-07-18 + +*** + +I want a love that's easy, +that's light, that requires +no rationalization, +no purgation +of words, +no listing of boons to be heard. +I yearn +to see your face, and when I do, +I want to feel boom in the ocean +of my chest, +*She is the only one. +She is the only moon +in this starry sky.* + +For there are so many other women +I could try +to get together with, +a wink, flirt, +accidental compliment blurt- +ed out in the checkout aisle. +But I cannot help but see, +having been burned +so many times, a list of benefits to me +instead of each walking ash-hewn corpse. + +But all these pages are empty, +notebook spine unbound. +I don't want a political alliance. +I want a woman, raspy, hoarse +with trembling lungs, +every breath the sound +of the crashing ocean waves. +I want a woman who comes undone +under my touch +not because of my deeds, +not because of my works, +but because it would take +a mountain's worth +of effort to restrain +her brain's reward system +going wild as an ape. + +Eris built me +to be +a solitary +creature, +and yet I find +we've developed a dependence +on each other. +It's the simple truth: +*I like me when I'm with you.* + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/poetry/to-velouria.txt b/poetry/to-velouria.txt new file mode 100755 index 0000000..150b25e --- /dev/null +++ b/poetry/to-velouria.txt @@ -0,0 +1,68 @@ +To Velouria +2020-12-17 + +*** + +I do not wish to poison +the waters between me and you, +but my heart yearns to withdraw, +to seek solitude + +to turn my back on +the world that you've made, +to sit at the lake's shores +and watch the ducks play + +this reed-filled bank +I know I can never return to, +can never trespass, +only pass through + +on a hot buggy day, +sun glaring in my eyes +as I shake a spanning tree +for apples for a pie + +I know I possess +power in my soul, +a world without end, +a universe I hold + +made by my weary hands +from twelve to twelfth grade, +to beyond the vale, +somewhere past the glade + +the bees in the buds +and the birds in the sky: +I envy them all as they +so carefree-ly fly + +everything with a pair, +every one in its place +but hyper-atomist me stuck +seeking false grace + +dear Velouria, I wonder: +why do you ask +a miracle from me, +an impossible task? + +to sever the last umbilical cord +and be truly Sole and One, +but I cannot bring myself to destroy +all that I've become + +I would much rather live +without the burden of your laws, +a life of my own, +a world with no need for gods + +I do not wish to poison +the ocean that I am; +my heart must beat on, +even if my course is ran + +*** + +CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander diff --git a/robots.txt b/robots.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f53798 --- /dev/null +++ b/robots.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +User-agent: * +Disallow: / diff --git a/style.css b/style.css new file mode 100644 index 0000000..17620ab --- /dev/null +++ b/style.css @@ -0,0 +1,40 @@ +body { + background-color: #000000; + color: #FFFFFF; + max-width:670px; + margin: auto; + font-size: large; + margin-bottom: 10px; + letter-spacing: 4px; +} +a, a:visited { + text-decoration: underline; + color: inherit; +} +i, em { + color: #ffd700; +} +h2 { + font-size: 30pt; + color: #c8a2c8; +} +.blink1 { + animation: blinker 1s linear infinite; +} +.blink2 { + animation: blinker 2s linear infinite; +} +.blink3 { + animation: blinker 1.5s linear infinite; +} +@keyframes blinker { + 50% { + opacity: 0; + } +} +img { + opacity: 1; +} +img:hover { + opacity: 0.8; +} diff --git a/webring.html b/webring.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..739f0b5 --- /dev/null +++ b/webring.html @@ -0,0 +1,400 @@ + + + + + Dead End Shrine Online Webring + + + + + + +

This is a webring.

+

A webring of many.

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+

THE MOST BASED WEBSITES ALIVE!

+ + + + + +
+ + MayVaneDay + + + + Let's Decentralize + +
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+

Some other ones too, I guess

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Add mine to lend your energy to strengthen my servitor searching for Jett and help me leave this mortal plane:

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