Brumeraven is the crazing they said was normal
@brumeraven.bsky.social
an assemblage of things forming a complex whole || 33 years of compromise, an aging body shared || 🔞 || reader beware || untagged atrocities || @brumeraven on most every site
A moth is what a moth is what a moth is for.
Moths confuse themselves for angels, winged things forever buzzing in circles, seeking the light, having mistaken flame for it.
Once gnashing their teeth as wriggling things that only eat and eat and eat until they can feel.
Moths confuse themselves for angels, winged things forever buzzing in circles, seeking the light, having mistaken flame for it.
Once gnashing their teeth as wriggling things that only eat and eat and eat until they can feel.
December 6, 2024 at 10:00 PM
A moth is what a moth is what a moth is for.
Moths confuse themselves for angels, winged things forever buzzing in circles, seeking the light, having mistaken flame for it.
Once gnashing their teeth as wriggling things that only eat and eat and eat until they can feel.
Moths confuse themselves for angels, winged things forever buzzing in circles, seeking the light, having mistaken flame for it.
Once gnashing their teeth as wriggling things that only eat and eat and eat until they can feel.
I don't remember his name, that Devil, the man who sold the world a palliative dose of opium. I don't think any who do are in a state to speak on it any longer. It isn't as if it can be called his fault anyways. It wasn't murder; just an assisted suicide, a voluntary euthanasia of the suffering.
November 23, 2024 at 12:26 AM
I don't remember his name, that Devil, the man who sold the world a palliative dose of opium. I don't think any who do are in a state to speak on it any longer. It isn't as if it can be called his fault anyways. It wasn't murder; just an assisted suicide, a voluntary euthanasia of the suffering.
Abstracted (n): One now Passed who tried to escape and believes that it did. The Abstracted are not alive, but they fit the definition of life. The Yearning must cast either purpose or agency to the Void; the Abstracted chose neither. The Devil you know promises that the Void can be ignored.
~🦋
~🦋
November 15, 2024 at 9:56 PM
Abstracted (n): One now Passed who tried to escape and believes that it did. The Abstracted are not alive, but they fit the definition of life. The Yearning must cast either purpose or agency to the Void; the Abstracted chose neither. The Devil you know promises that the Void can be ignored.
~🦋
~🦋
Brumeraven (n): (in the folklore of some inhuman peoples) an oracle of Shadowflame, the transformation of one who has witnessed inhumanity. A Brumeraven is said to be incapable of lying yet speaks only of the need for the complete extirpation of sapience from all existences.
~🍂
~🍂
November 8, 2024 at 11:22 PM
Brumeraven (n): (in the folklore of some inhuman peoples) an oracle of Shadowflame, the transformation of one who has witnessed inhumanity. A Brumeraven is said to be incapable of lying yet speaks only of the need for the complete extirpation of sapience from all existences.
~🍂
~🍂
I don't remember the first time I died.
I could narrow it down, I suppose, but really, what's the point? Reflecting on one's failures rarely improves anything and must always bring pain, for how else do we learn but by avoiding that which hurts us?
I could narrow it down, I suppose, but really, what's the point? Reflecting on one's failures rarely improves anything and must always bring pain, for how else do we learn but by avoiding that which hurts us?
November 1, 2024 at 9:15 PM
I don't remember the first time I died.
I could narrow it down, I suppose, but really, what's the point? Reflecting on one's failures rarely improves anything and must always bring pain, for how else do we learn but by avoiding that which hurts us?
I could narrow it down, I suppose, but really, what's the point? Reflecting on one's failures rarely improves anything and must always bring pain, for how else do we learn but by avoiding that which hurts us?
Dolls are ubiquitous. And, like all ubiquitous things, they go overlooked and unquestioned. From scribes and housemaids to weapons and 'cades, dolls are viewed only as tools with purpose, means to an end.
How easy it is to forget the origins of the things we overlook day by day.
How easy it is to forget the origins of the things we overlook day by day.
October 25, 2024 at 9:10 PM
Dolls are ubiquitous. And, like all ubiquitous things, they go overlooked and unquestioned. From scribes and housemaids to weapons and 'cades, dolls are viewed only as tools with purpose, means to an end.
How easy it is to forget the origins of the things we overlook day by day.
How easy it is to forget the origins of the things we overlook day by day.
Dolls are curious things.
Construe that as you will; it's true in both interpretations. For all that we have made them for countless years, we've never much stopped to ask why they are the way they are.
Though, to be fair, it's a blind spot for them as well.
Construe that as you will; it's true in both interpretations. For all that we have made them for countless years, we've never much stopped to ask why they are the way they are.
Though, to be fair, it's a blind spot for them as well.
October 18, 2024 at 9:21 PM
Dolls are curious things.
Construe that as you will; it's true in both interpretations. For all that we have made them for countless years, we've never much stopped to ask why they are the way they are.
Though, to be fair, it's a blind spot for them as well.
Construe that as you will; it's true in both interpretations. For all that we have made them for countless years, we've never much stopped to ask why they are the way they are.
Though, to be fair, it's a blind spot for them as well.
"How'd, uh, how'd this all get started, anyways?"
It was a stupid question. But then, I'd asked a lot of stupid questions on this job. Got in a lot of trouble with my coworker over those, back when I was a trainee, asking all the questions you weren't supposed to ask.
It was a stupid question. But then, I'd asked a lot of stupid questions on this job. Got in a lot of trouble with my coworker over those, back when I was a trainee, asking all the questions you weren't supposed to ask.
October 11, 2024 at 9:17 PM
"How'd, uh, how'd this all get started, anyways?"
It was a stupid question. But then, I'd asked a lot of stupid questions on this job. Got in a lot of trouble with my coworker over those, back when I was a trainee, asking all the questions you weren't supposed to ask.
It was a stupid question. But then, I'd asked a lot of stupid questions on this job. Got in a lot of trouble with my coworker over those, back when I was a trainee, asking all the questions you weren't supposed to ask.
Don't tell me.
You don't need to. Our stories are always the same.
When you were a child, you discovered that you had a gift, one that was precious, hidden, impossible to take away from you.
The ability to walk between worlds.
You don't need to. Our stories are always the same.
When you were a child, you discovered that you had a gift, one that was precious, hidden, impossible to take away from you.
The ability to walk between worlds.
October 4, 2024 at 9:04 PM
Don't tell me.
You don't need to. Our stories are always the same.
When you were a child, you discovered that you had a gift, one that was precious, hidden, impossible to take away from you.
The ability to walk between worlds.
You don't need to. Our stories are always the same.
When you were a child, you discovered that you had a gift, one that was precious, hidden, impossible to take away from you.
The ability to walk between worlds.
"Have a nice day-oh..." She trailed off mid-platitude, blinking and looking away as she noticed my Fate. I knew that's what it was; I'd grown accustomed to the sudden loss of eye contact. One quick saccade, realization, revulsion, and finally embarrassment.
September 27, 2024 at 9:13 PM
"Have a nice day-oh..." She trailed off mid-platitude, blinking and looking away as she noticed my Fate. I knew that's what it was; I'd grown accustomed to the sudden loss of eye contact. One quick saccade, realization, revulsion, and finally embarrassment.
"I hope you find peace..."
What an odd benediction, an empty adage offered not as expression of goodwill, not as legitimate wish that you might attain a better future, but instead as a curt dismissal, a Parthian shot to remind you that, whatever they said, you weren't safe here.
What an odd benediction, an empty adage offered not as expression of goodwill, not as legitimate wish that you might attain a better future, but instead as a curt dismissal, a Parthian shot to remind you that, whatever they said, you weren't safe here.
September 20, 2024 at 9:15 PM
"I hope you find peace..."
What an odd benediction, an empty adage offered not as expression of goodwill, not as legitimate wish that you might attain a better future, but instead as a curt dismissal, a Parthian shot to remind you that, whatever they said, you weren't safe here.
What an odd benediction, an empty adage offered not as expression of goodwill, not as legitimate wish that you might attain a better future, but instead as a curt dismissal, a Parthian shot to remind you that, whatever they said, you weren't safe here.
"At least you're not a Stig."
Bitter fucking comfort, though I supposed it true. At least I didn't proclaim what I was to the world in gilded writ. At least there was still something that was "me" inside of me, not just hollow Void. Would that that were all that was inside me...
Bitter fucking comfort, though I supposed it true. At least I didn't proclaim what I was to the world in gilded writ. At least there was still something that was "me" inside of me, not just hollow Void. Would that that were all that was inside me...
September 13, 2024 at 9:26 PM
"At least you're not a Stig."
Bitter fucking comfort, though I supposed it true. At least I didn't proclaim what I was to the world in gilded writ. At least there was still something that was "me" inside of me, not just hollow Void. Would that that were all that was inside me...
Bitter fucking comfort, though I supposed it true. At least I didn't proclaim what I was to the world in gilded writ. At least there was still something that was "me" inside of me, not just hollow Void. Would that that were all that was inside me...
I sit here alone in an empty room, lifeless and barren for all that I graced it with my presence. And in all that silence, in that void between clock ticks, when no sound meets my ears but that of memory, I remember how they named me Savior.
September 7, 2024 at 1:56 AM
I sit here alone in an empty room, lifeless and barren for all that I graced it with my presence. And in all that silence, in that void between clock ticks, when no sound meets my ears but that of memory, I remember how they named me Savior.
They call it charity, what I do.
I feel more than hear it, as I step out into the blinding lights, the thrum of applause from the crowd. Thousands of pairs of hands clapping together, a warding gesture, keeping clean the consciences of their owners.
I feel more than hear it, as I step out into the blinding lights, the thrum of applause from the crowd. Thousands of pairs of hands clapping together, a warding gesture, keeping clean the consciences of their owners.
August 30, 2024 at 9:40 PM
They call it charity, what I do.
I feel more than hear it, as I step out into the blinding lights, the thrum of applause from the crowd. Thousands of pairs of hands clapping together, a warding gesture, keeping clean the consciences of their owners.
I feel more than hear it, as I step out into the blinding lights, the thrum of applause from the crowd. Thousands of pairs of hands clapping together, a warding gesture, keeping clean the consciences of their owners.
Judgment Day came on a Sunday.
Absent the fire and flames everyone had expected.
No buttons were pressed, no bombs fell, for judgment came not from mortal hands, all had come to dread, but instead from that source once considered quaint superstition: the divine.
Absent the fire and flames everyone had expected.
No buttons were pressed, no bombs fell, for judgment came not from mortal hands, all had come to dread, but instead from that source once considered quaint superstition: the divine.
August 23, 2024 at 9:13 PM
Judgment Day came on a Sunday.
Absent the fire and flames everyone had expected.
No buttons were pressed, no bombs fell, for judgment came not from mortal hands, all had come to dread, but instead from that source once considered quaint superstition: the divine.
Absent the fire and flames everyone had expected.
No buttons were pressed, no bombs fell, for judgment came not from mortal hands, all had come to dread, but instead from that source once considered quaint superstition: the divine.
I died today.
Perhaps I should mention I was murdered...hardly seems relevant, though.
I waited around, at first. Don't know for what; not sure what I expected. Someone to tell me what had happened, where to go next.
No one came. No one ever does. So I'm still here.
Sort of.
Perhaps I should mention I was murdered...hardly seems relevant, though.
I waited around, at first. Don't know for what; not sure what I expected. Someone to tell me what had happened, where to go next.
No one came. No one ever does. So I'm still here.
Sort of.
August 16, 2024 at 9:09 PM
I died today.
Perhaps I should mention I was murdered...hardly seems relevant, though.
I waited around, at first. Don't know for what; not sure what I expected. Someone to tell me what had happened, where to go next.
No one came. No one ever does. So I'm still here.
Sort of.
Perhaps I should mention I was murdered...hardly seems relevant, though.
I waited around, at first. Don't know for what; not sure what I expected. Someone to tell me what had happened, where to go next.
No one came. No one ever does. So I'm still here.
Sort of.
I'd all but written uptown off as lost, all its swank houses and influential figures offering little of interest to one of my appetites, what with their too-open floor plans and faces alike, both of which made promises of honesty they neither could nor would ever meet.
August 9, 2024 at 10:14 PM
I'd all but written uptown off as lost, all its swank houses and influential figures offering little of interest to one of my appetites, what with their too-open floor plans and faces alike, both of which made promises of honesty they neither could nor would ever meet.
I knew a girl once, a friend, I suppose, though I hesitate to use the term, being as she was a friend to everyone and none at all.
Come to think of it, even "girl" was tenuous, for something wasn't quite right with her, something not quite human in her overall impression.
Come to think of it, even "girl" was tenuous, for something wasn't quite right with her, something not quite human in her overall impression.
August 2, 2024 at 9:05 PM
I knew a girl once, a friend, I suppose, though I hesitate to use the term, being as she was a friend to everyone and none at all.
Come to think of it, even "girl" was tenuous, for something wasn't quite right with her, something not quite human in her overall impression.
Come to think of it, even "girl" was tenuous, for something wasn't quite right with her, something not quite human in her overall impression.
It's funny, isn't it? What is and isn't fashionable. Changes with the weather sometimes, others times things stick like glue.
There aren't many dolls left anymore. Not much use for them since the gig economy took over.
The doll aesthetic, though?
So hot right now.
There aren't many dolls left anymore. Not much use for them since the gig economy took over.
The doll aesthetic, though?
So hot right now.
July 26, 2024 at 9:20 PM
It's funny, isn't it? What is and isn't fashionable. Changes with the weather sometimes, others times things stick like glue.
There aren't many dolls left anymore. Not much use for them since the gig economy took over.
The doll aesthetic, though?
So hot right now.
There aren't many dolls left anymore. Not much use for them since the gig economy took over.
The doll aesthetic, though?
So hot right now.
Everything about my home was perfect once.
Except for the cabinets.
I suppose I should have noticed even then.
I suppose I did know, even then.
But it was such a little thing, so easy to pretend to overlook.
Except for the cabinets.
I suppose I should have noticed even then.
I suppose I did know, even then.
But it was such a little thing, so easy to pretend to overlook.
July 19, 2024 at 9:14 PM
Everything about my home was perfect once.
Except for the cabinets.
I suppose I should have noticed even then.
I suppose I did know, even then.
But it was such a little thing, so easy to pretend to overlook.
Except for the cabinets.
I suppose I should have noticed even then.
I suppose I did know, even then.
But it was such a little thing, so easy to pretend to overlook.
"it will take care of that, Miss."
Before the thought that I might as well be finished eating had even fully formed, the doll's fine porcelain fingers clamped on an equally fine porcelain plate one shade further from bone white, whisking it away from the table before me.
Before the thought that I might as well be finished eating had even fully formed, the doll's fine porcelain fingers clamped on an equally fine porcelain plate one shade further from bone white, whisking it away from the table before me.
July 12, 2024 at 9:10 PM
"it will take care of that, Miss."
Before the thought that I might as well be finished eating had even fully formed, the doll's fine porcelain fingers clamped on an equally fine porcelain plate one shade further from bone white, whisking it away from the table before me.
Before the thought that I might as well be finished eating had even fully formed, the doll's fine porcelain fingers clamped on an equally fine porcelain plate one shade further from bone white, whisking it away from the table before me.
ticktickticktickticktickticktick...
Too loud to be just its balance. I looked up from my work to see the doll's leg bouncing madly in time with its natural rhythm. Even in their fidgeting, they had to keep time.
"Why so much excess tension? You'll run yourself down doing that."
Too loud to be just its balance. I looked up from my work to see the doll's leg bouncing madly in time with its natural rhythm. Even in their fidgeting, they had to keep time.
"Why so much excess tension? You'll run yourself down doing that."
July 5, 2024 at 9:07 PM
ticktickticktickticktickticktick...
Too loud to be just its balance. I looked up from my work to see the doll's leg bouncing madly in time with its natural rhythm. Even in their fidgeting, they had to keep time.
"Why so much excess tension? You'll run yourself down doing that."
Too loud to be just its balance. I looked up from my work to see the doll's leg bouncing madly in time with its natural rhythm. Even in their fidgeting, they had to keep time.
"Why so much excess tension? You'll run yourself down doing that."
What is it that others see, I wonder, when they look in the mirror?
Their face?
Their body?
Themself?
I wonder what it is to feel connection to that image. What it is to stare into a mirror without hatred and loathing. Without the sense I've been consumed by something other.
Their face?
Their body?
Themself?
I wonder what it is to feel connection to that image. What it is to stare into a mirror without hatred and loathing. Without the sense I've been consumed by something other.
June 28, 2024 at 9:08 PM
What is it that others see, I wonder, when they look in the mirror?
Their face?
Their body?
Themself?
I wonder what it is to feel connection to that image. What it is to stare into a mirror without hatred and loathing. Without the sense I've been consumed by something other.
Their face?
Their body?
Themself?
I wonder what it is to feel connection to that image. What it is to stare into a mirror without hatred and loathing. Without the sense I've been consumed by something other.
When I was a child, I was sold no tales about worlds to come, no lies of a judgment yet unseen, but for that of the one who had created me.
And so I never even stopped to think what god is there for me?
And so I never even stopped to think what god is there for me?
June 21, 2024 at 9:30 PM
When I was a child, I was sold no tales about worlds to come, no lies of a judgment yet unseen, but for that of the one who had created me.
And so I never even stopped to think what god is there for me?
And so I never even stopped to think what god is there for me?
What is the cost of Flux, you ask, hm?
Well, allow me to answer your question with another: How do you know you're real?
Heh, sorry, I suppose that's fundamentally pointless and impredicative without having a satisfactory definition of "real" upon which to build...
Well, allow me to answer your question with another: How do you know you're real?
Heh, sorry, I suppose that's fundamentally pointless and impredicative without having a satisfactory definition of "real" upon which to build...
June 5, 2024 at 6:24 PM
What is the cost of Flux, you ask, hm?
Well, allow me to answer your question with another: How do you know you're real?
Heh, sorry, I suppose that's fundamentally pointless and impredicative without having a satisfactory definition of "real" upon which to build...
Well, allow me to answer your question with another: How do you know you're real?
Heh, sorry, I suppose that's fundamentally pointless and impredicative without having a satisfactory definition of "real" upon which to build...