Top o' the time! Do you...want some soup? It's got metaphors n' stuff. Hot? Cold? That's up to you, innit?
I am Thorn, and you'll have to excuse me (I have no excuses) I'm down something fierce with a case of the whimsies. Oh, it's quite terminal, I assure you. Contagious too. If you don't want these cooties, you'd best steer clear.
Still here? Wanna get weird? Fantastic, then!
I won't even try to pretend that what I write should be taken at face value only. I weave very intentionally, and I know I'm not the only one here. I am inspired by Aleister Crowley's methods of this, but not his carrot-on-a-stick type of obscurity to the layman that does no one any good apart from servicing the ego. My worldview closely parallels that of William Butler Yeats and his time, sans any petty ignorances. I'm nowhere near as eloquent as he was, but I'm a hopeless romantic in the truest, broadest sense of the term. Everything is connected.
There are lines that can be drawn in the timing of Ireland's resurgence of the arts to its independence, and I believe, wholeheartedly, that anyone, at any time can affect change in the same way, however small, in hopes that it will snowball.
Why not then make every line and character a letter to the past, or an ode to the future? What sorts of stories capture you? Tell me why. Let's commit the cardinal sin of making this as personal as possible, with all of our pieces in their proper places. I've no interest in stealing hearts - spiritually or otherwise; only giving them a hug to spread a forgotten warmth. A small nudge to perspective, if you will. I invite you to share yours. I genuinely want to read it. Feel it, even. If you are on a remotely similar wavelength, I most definitely want to create something beautiful with you. It should go without saying that bot content is highly frowned upon.
To the powers-that-should-not be: We choose love. Not fear.
I am Thorn, and you'll have to excuse me (I have no excuses) I'm down something fierce with a case of the whimsies. Oh, it's quite terminal, I assure you. Contagious too. If you don't want these cooties, you'd best steer clear.
Still here? Wanna get weird? Fantastic, then!
I won't even try to pretend that what I write should be taken at face value only. I weave very intentionally, and I know I'm not the only one here. I am inspired by Aleister Crowley's methods of this, but not his carrot-on-a-stick type of obscurity to the layman that does no one any good apart from servicing the ego. My worldview closely parallels that of William Butler Yeats and his time, sans any petty ignorances. I'm nowhere near as eloquent as he was, but I'm a hopeless romantic in the truest, broadest sense of the term. Everything is connected.
There are lines that can be drawn in the timing of Ireland's resurgence of the arts to its independence, and I believe, wholeheartedly, that anyone, at any time can affect change in the same way, however small, in hopes that it will snowball.
Why not then make every line and character a letter to the past, or an ode to the future? What sorts of stories capture you? Tell me why. Let's commit the cardinal sin of making this as personal as possible, with all of our pieces in their proper places. I've no interest in stealing hearts - spiritually or otherwise; only giving them a hug to spread a forgotten warmth. A small nudge to perspective, if you will. I invite you to share yours. I genuinely want to read it. Feel it, even. If you are on a remotely similar wavelength, I most definitely want to create something beautiful with you. It should go without saying that bot content is highly frowned upon.
To the powers-that-should-not be: We choose love. Not fear.
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