d e l i r i u m .

WOOP WOOP GET SOME SOUP

lend us your power!

You see me and my flesh, you can hold and bleed and hear me. I shift and my bones stick out at odd ends, my muscle twists and slides along my limbs. My heart grows and shrinks and changes shape and color. My eyes and ears change too. All “monsters” feel the same. We change. By the people who love us. The people who hate us. The people who just want to avoid us. Some of us hide and some of us stay in the light, some of us even walk between both. We’re here all around you, you call us monsters. But what do you call Divinity warped by humanity? What is Humanity when warped by Divinity? A whole otherness enveloping the singular we. You call us monsters, but Monstrosity is only what you define it because of fear. Let us into your lives, your loves, your hearts, your homes, and you will no longer call us monstrous.  We are Holy. Not in some sense as some ancestral god or newly found religion. We are Holy in the sense that we bubble up from the very ground itself.

— Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer, c. November 1912

The moon and Jupiter this morning. And you can kind of see Saturn in the clouds, upper left.

Reblog this when it’s on your dash. You will save someone’s life.