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The Stolen Child (1889)
W.B. Yeats
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we’ve hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

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β€œFor me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there,

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"To love a swamp, however, is to love what is muted and marginal, what exists in the shadows, what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most commonly praised. And sometimes its invisibility is a blessing. Swamps and bogs are places of transition and wild growth, breeding grounds, experimental labs where organisms and ideas have the luxury of being out of the spotlight, where the imagination can mutate and mate, send tendrils into and out of the water."

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Bolts of lightning from the sky
And plant them in fields of life.

They will grow like tender sprouts of fire.
Charge somber thoughts
With unexpected flash,
You, my lightning in the soil!”
― Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple: Selected Poetry

soyfacing so hard at blumhouse producing a film of sondheim's merrily we roll along

🎢Gimme the peat boys and free my soul...I wanna get lost in a mossy knoll and drift away... :blobcoffeeraccoon:

β€œAs a vessel is known by its sound whether it be cracked or not, so men are proved by their speeches whether they be wise or foolish.”
― Demosthenes

hey did yall know that the boys are back in town

unconfirmed rumour, meta, be careful with this one 

I've heard that the boys are, in fact, back in town

you are choosing the music for the discord voice call, I am choosing the music for flowless, we are not the same

*mind just replaying the riff from Breeder's Cannonball over and over* :kirby_walk:

Drinking vodka and orange juice from the skull of this guy named's a Philip's head screwdriver :blobcoffeeraccoon:

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