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saint-seraphim.bsky.social
Temporarily embarrassed Monastic. Recovering Poet with a Loving Fidelity to the Real. Queer as in really fucking odd. Cat Guardian and perpetually silly.
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Prolific Poster

Something something you find loveable little mirrors in all your beloved friends something or other.

So, turns out doing an emotionally heavyweight course that forces you to confront and digest topics like genocide, hate groups, lynching, pain and torture without the expected academic distance (because it's Psychosocial and reflexivity is expected) will actually leave you quite sensitised.

"The poet knows it before the people do."

Been serving c*nt before some of you knew it was on the menu.

These are the dark days Old Champions return. It's good to be battling again. Back on Top.

It takes a different kind of Merciful Severity to recover from mental illness in this global socio-politico-ecological climate.

Now... I may be reading a fair bit of psychoanalytic theory, but there's something symbolic happening with this produce...

Money, commodities, youth, health, all are transient. Our only true possession in this world is the consequences of our actions. Let your actions be your guarantor.

They tried to kill disco, declared it dead. But disco never died, it went underground and blossomed into House music. They don't know the real meaning of death. It's not elimination but burial. Not a vanishing, but fertilising a rebirth. Don't eat them. Bury them. Fertilise the soil.

We inhabit sensitive bodies. Excitable and irritable in equal measure. Life is inherently irritating.

REAL.

Often flowers that bloom at night emit a strong, beautiful fragrance.

Upon this response, JK burst into a million shards and a great wind scattered her unhappy soul beneath the arc of a newly formed rainbow.

I mean really!! Photo of the decade.

Never thought I had a thing for ankles until I saw that pic of Luigi's beloafered, shackled feet. Can't take a bad photo of the man.

Ms. Adzuki Bean is currently hiding in the corner, coming out to inspect the food situation, only to growl and retreat. She just like me fr.

Studying psychoanalysis is very much like the worst people you know making excellent points again and again, and finding new and interesting reasons to beat up Sigmund Freud. Every week it's been shaking my fist at the sky yelling "FREUD!!"

Zuki has arrived home and I am a Cat Guardian again! She is very, very frightened and hiding in the corner so here are some pictures from her old Guard.

Bro, but c*nt.

Turning charcoal into diamonds And grit into pearls Charcoal filtering turbid water From sand and fire, glass unfurls.

Girl, but in a "they" way.

The Iconic Mother Grace Jones once said; "If the fuck don't feel right, don't fuck it." Imma listen to Our Lady Grace.

Every Winter ends.

I am recovering from complex trauma. Truly, it is a frightening process (especially as a Black mixed race queer person in this climate) But so worth it. Nothing has to happen, there is no reason but the ones you make. You turn charcoal into diamonds. And grit into pearls. That's my recovery.

What if you pronounced polycules like Socrates

I am very food motivated. You are what you eat, and I am a little treat 💜🌱

I adore beautiful coincidences. They are an ephemeral spontaneous expression of order in a chaotic world. The gorgeous thing is that they could have never happened, or you could never have noticed it. But you did. That's why I don't do fate. Chance is so much more beautiful.

Be wary of people who call themselves Priestesses Spiritual authority must be consensually negotiated and contained. Be wary of people who call themselves psychics. The future is unknowable and the language of fate simplifies the vast chaos of the universe. Treat beautiful coincidence gently.

I'm sorry but I'm just not going to be cowering in fear of these clowns. They suck and they are cruel but they are not God.

As woo-woo as I can get sometimes, one of my biggest bugbears is the wellness/spirituality market. I write a lot of my silly little poems and seem very spacey on here, but I have far more love for physicists than fortune tellers.

Oh God that's why I give Kiki energy.

Xe pronounced "zse" like Zsa Zsa Gabor. Like "she" but not quite. Androgenous facing femininity. That's a bit of me.

Cometh the hour... ...Cometh the Mother.

Dancing in the darkness is not fiddling while Rome burns, we do not live in stately homes. On the ground, it's how you fight despair. Keep your soul burning through the night. Every fighter is a graceful dancer.

My mum told me, her grandmother said: "Everything has an end. Except a sausage, it has two." In reality there are no endings. Only changes.

Either no-one is a star seed or everyone's a star seed, don't be stingy.

Told you. Tryna cut down my hours at least.

Hate the hate and not the Hater. And I love me a hater!

We call each other angels because we see the light in each other. We call each other demons because we mistake the shadows for our own fears. We're all just a little bit of everything. It's what you turn to that counts.

I'm a Professional Woman, but hoping to cut down my hours.