откуда такая нежность

’ēlî ’ēlî lāmāh ‘ăzavtānî. my god my god, you relinquish me? in this, the child of nazareth recites verses he knows, verses his mother recited, too, once. the closure of things in the opening of the cut on his neck; the closure of things in his father's role for him. he's tired, unlucky. the cup's too runny, though he's thirsty now, though no hyssop nor oil feels right. he fell on his knees in the morning, he feels the nails in his feet now. his mother recited these verses: that's his last thought on this cross, in golgotha, miles from nazareth

ăzavtānî—עֲזַבְתָּנִי. "my god, my god, you relinquish me?" the hebrew here is not forsake, not necessarily. the root עָזַב is closer to loosen, relinquish, let go of. there's this yielding, this gooey and off-line grip that's lost in the verb. the child of nazareth, quoting this, is reciting verses on god's off-ness. it's the feeling of falling from a cupped touch; it's the feeling of a lover's breath on your neck then off of it. god is not forsaking himself, he's losing it

the internet seems like a distant dream

whatever we are on rn is not the internet. It's ads

if I had a melkor iwould. haha well. decline him like a 1st conjugation deponent verb. melkor melkaris melkatur. and so on.