AN ATMOSPHERE
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➽LAMENTUM
❝ Beware the autumn people… For some, autumn comes early, stays late through life…
For these beings, fall is the ever normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond.
Where do they come from? The dust.
Where do they go? The grave.
Does blood stir in their veins? No: the night wind.
What ticks in their head? The worm.
What speaks from their mouth? The toad.
What sees from their eyes? The snake.
What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars.
They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters.
The spider-web hears them, trembles- breaks.
Such are the autumn people.
Beware of them.❞
[ 🔵 ]
❝ Man stands face to face with the irrational.
He feels within him his longing for happiness and for reason. The absurd is born of this confrontation between the humanneed and the unreasonable silence of the world. ❞
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▼ANDROGYNOUS ▼30's ▼HALF PÚCA[HALF HUMANOID] ▼MAGUS
▼PENSIVE ▼MISCHIEVOUS ▼INTREPID
➽ THE DULLAHAN; Death Denied; cursed to roam this mortal coil without a head, without a face, without eyes to perceive or a nose to smell, without ears to hear its own disembodied voice which begs: how does a being with no brain reach out to the world around it? What can it see, what can it hear, what can it smell, how does it contemplate its own existence?
⇣⇣What allows it to BE, to breathe, to perceive, to command its body without a source control like some pilot-less automaton, a machine without a ghost? What houses its consciousnesses, its spirit, its ambition, its doubt, its sorrow, the intangible weave of signals that makes one ALIVE? Surely the black oil that oozes from it's finely sliced neck and wafts into the air like turgid smoke must contain its essence; somehow that turbulent haze which roils against itself as though in violent protest must be the ubiquitous I AM who fights to free itself from its mortal cage?
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