blind divine

*takes a breathe*

Okay, so here’s the thing. When you are talking to a blind person who you KNOW does the thing in question, don’t fucking tell them that it is a mostly visual medium.

Because guess what, just because it is for you does not mean it has to be for the rest of the world.

I was in a car today with someone who was trying to tell me that tarot is mainly in how you interpret the pictures. That you need to be able to see the images to get good readings.

Guys, this is not true. I read the tarot, I read the tarot without being bale to tell the images around eighty percent of the time. This does not make me a bad reader and if you fucking try and tell me it does, I will try very hard not to verbally rip your throat out.

Granted, this was the same person who was telling me that there is only one way to learn the tarot, going through card by card and trying to learn EVERYTHING ABOUT IT’s IMAGE, and was refusing to take into account people who may have different learning styles, disabilities or anything else that would keep them from learning in that exact way.

Hi, I am proud of myself for not yelling at anyone today.

I lie in the dark counting your heartbeats. I imagine our life together. I imagine the words I will say when we get married. The thought of trying to put together enough sentences to describe the depth of my love brings tears to my eyes. My love is blind faith, miraculous and divine. Hearing you breathe beside me at night, that is my religion. You said you wanted to grow old with me and I held it in my lungs, trying not to let it escape so that I could let it saturate in my veins. You are not the best parts of me. You are the most beautiful parts of the person I want to become. You are the love story I have been trying to write my entire life.
—  Ambra J. Wilson
quasinympholo

adorning your odour with
robust bordeau wood
dip your fingers in black paint
only the tips.

your footsteps can never be heard
by the old huter’s spaniel
your quasi-divinity
blinds the lost piligrims
who dare to call you
a nymph.

Luctor et Emergo – Chapter 3

In which Cassian learns about his family, Jyn finds a way to remember hers, and Bodhi discovers family might not always be blood.

[Hogwarts AU]

Read on AO3 / Below the Cut

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Special thanks to @valcain for the graphic and @wearesuchstuff1 for beta reading!)

Keep reading

Shipping Info

SHIPPING INFO     //   answer  the  following for  your  muse(s)  so  people  know  how  shipping  works  on  your blog.   REPOST.   don’t reblog.

1. WHAT’S  YOUR  OTP  FOR  YOUR  MUSE?

 OTP? Well Currently I’m just getting back on her blog and had to see what fun and familiar faces were around, I have two so far that are dear and amusing to my heart. One is Alex/Kaguya-its only something I started before my big move, and find amusing what with their height diff and personalities. I honestly never thought of them as a thing until @conqucror . Then there’s Kaguya with Jushirou, a sickly captain but a badass captain Kaguya agreed to marry politcally and gradually fell for–super sweet fluff from @jushirou-ukitake . So far I feel with the threads and chatting I’ve done–these are my top two? <3

2.   WHAT  ARE  YOU  WILLING  TO  RP  WHEN  IT  COMES  TO  SHIPPING? :

ALL THE THINGS: Platonic, romantic, angst, dark themes—Listen, I use a lot of things to work on Kaguya’s development, both as a muse and as for my writing skills. I welcome a lot of fun and interesting scenarios where I test her strength, wit, and charm–but I also like making her uncomfortable or putting her in a situation she has to get out her comfort zone?? And Emotional connections are always fun since she tries not to fall for someone normally? So the challenge is determination vs desires.

3.   HOW  LARGE  DOES  THE  AGE  GAP  HAVE  TO  BE  TO  MAKE  IT  UNCOMFORTABLE?

Kaguya is old.. But it varies with her verse. I’m good with a reasonable age gap? Between five to ten years? I’m actually fond of the taboos of some age gaps, ex; student falling for sensei, but that’s about it.

4.   ARE  YOU  SELECTIVE  WHEN  SHIPPING? :

I’m pretty selective.. Like, I can’t just throw kaguya at anyone. She’s a dear muse and I like talking about ships via IMS or Skype or discord. I adore my little hime muse. To ship with me, I expect to have a general communication with the mun and trust–and for the muse, talks of developments and plots and all kinds of shenanigans–memes to write drabbles or inspirations that make me draw them together.

5. HOW  FAR  DO  STEAMY  MOMENTS  HAVE  TO  GO  BEFORE  THEY’RE  CONSIDERED  NS.FW? :

When clothes are off, and things get frisky, duck under read more.

6.   WHO  ARE  OTHER  MUSES  YOU  SHIP  YOUR  MUSE  WITH? :

Kaguya x independece? Ha ha, Kaguya is very spirited and challenging as a woman alone if you’ve read her folktale, she needs someone who is confident, challenging and willing to but heads with her but respect her as her own individual. It’s not hard for me to get convinved she’s shippable with many other’s if the chemistry fits.

7.   DOES  ONE  HAVE  TO  ASK  TO  SHIP  WITH  YOU? :

I normally like it when someone asks or wants to consider shipping? Doesn’t mean you can’t send me romantic things though to test the idea or just tease the concept of a ship with kagu. 

8.   HOW  OFTEN  DO  YOU  LIKE  TO  SHIP? :

Hmm.. For ships, its not often I’m like; lets set sail! I like ideally a partner I feel can match me in writing, like someone who compliments my muse or is open to ideas for the ship to develop. Be it romantic or platonic.

9.   ARE  YOU  SHIP  OBSESSED  OR  SHIP  MORE - OR - LESS? :

I like investing in any cute ships I have with kaguya, really all the developments it takes for her just to admit she loves a person–and then the three special words? It slays me. So finding a partner to open up to about my muses insecurities and how to develop things more is always great.

10.   ARE  YOU  MULTISHIP? :

yep. Have you seen my verse page?

11.   WHAT  IS  ( ARE )  YOUR  FAVORITE  SHIP  (S)  IN  YOUR  CURRENT  FANDOM? :

Kaguya has no fandom :’D. Unless there’s a folktale fandom I don’t know about.

12.  FINALLY,  HOW  DOES  ONE  SHIP  WITH  YOU? :

Just talk to me. Legit, hit me up on my IM or send me an ask. I am open to all kinds of ideas, send your muse to my askbox. I am good. I love developments and totally willing to lend my ear to listen to ideas.

tagged by: @eternalbunni (stole~<3)

tagging: @ryusxnka , @condicionibus , @gamenu  , @ahtede , @ajisxi & anyone who wants to !!

bemused-amused-confused  asked:

*curtsies with a flourish* I was wondering if you had any thoughts on Edmund and Edgar's childhood relationship? (From King Lear. Not just random Edmunds and Edgars.) Or parallels between them and Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia? Or just more on Lear in general? P.S. Edmund is also one of my favorites, and your blog is amazing

*Curtsies* WOW okay, so this has been buried at the bottom of my inbox since roughly the dawn of time and @bemused-amused-confused, I am SO sorry. Since you sent this ask I’ve actually talked about Lear kind of a lot (including sibling relationships) and all that stuff is here under the tag. Specifically regarding Edmund and Edgar’s childhood relationship, though: I’m so intrigued by it. Because we know they were close in age: Edmund says he is “twelve or fourteen moonshines lag of a brother,” so they’re almost Irish twins. Gloucester insists he loves them equally (whether that’s true is debatable), which seems to suggest they at least spent the bulk of their childhood in his care, together. But we also know that prior to the start of the play, Edmund has been away from court for nine years, and will be leaving again soon. We don’t get any more information than that, but that’s a significant chunk of time, especially because these two probably aren’t much older than their mid-twenties, seeing as neither one of them is married. So, that leaves us with the tentative hypothesis that they spent their childhood together but were probably separated as young teenagers. There’s a slim possibility that Edgar went with Edmund, wherever he went, because Gloucester does tell Kent that he has another, lawful son, which would imply that Kent hasn’t seen Edgar around court often enough to know who he is. However, we do know that Lear is his godfather, Lear’s daughters seem to have a good grasp of who he is, and there’s even a suggestion that he’s among Lear’s riotous knights before having to flee for his life. (Edmund confirms this, but only about half of what comes out of Edmund’s mouth is true, so that’s something to be suspect of, especially because he’s trying to throw additional suspicion on his half-brother in that particular moment.) What is indisputable is that Edgar trusts his brother. He trusts him enough that he doesn’t need any further proof of his father’s supposed ire than Edmund’s word. That’s a lot of trust to put in a person, and I think it implies that at least as children, they were close. So what happened? Edmund grew up, in a world that constantly mistreated him and reminded him of his inferiority, and that’s a bitterness that Edgar (fatally) does not pick up on. 

But here’s where things get really interesting, because as soon as Edgar learns his brother has betrayed him, he starts using the same demeaning language as everyone else. As Poor Tom he talks obsessively about infidelity, alluding to Edmund’s illegitimacy as the source of his evil, and when he’s finally delivered a fatal wound to him he calls Edmund’s death and his father’s blinding divine justice: “That dark and vicious place where thee he got cost him his eyes.” Edgar buys into the idea of bastardy as an indelible blot on his brother as much as anyone else. 

And here’s the other really interesting thing about Edgar: he’s not as innocent as he seems at the outset, and certainly not as hapless as Edmund takes him for. His plan to disguise himself is fairly ingenious, and he is a skillful enough dissembler than he manages to carry off not only one disguise but three different ones, which fool not only his own father, but his own godfather and his own brother to boot. Look closely at the scene at the ‘cliffs’: Edgar’s manipulation of Gloucester is absolutely masterful. He is not a babe in the woods. He may be the victim of a conspiracy, but he’s hardly incapable of responding in kind. John F. Danby was writing in 1949 but I think he actually summed up the Edgar problem really well in The Doctrine of Nature: “Natural goodness will rive its concealing continent if only we are patient. For Edgar is the machiavel of patience, of ripeness, of God’s ultimate revenges. In the natural sphere there is apparently a duplicity of virtue.” 

So, what does this tell us? You can’t say anything for sure, but I do think you have to allow the possibility that this ability to puppeteer and manipulate and roleplay is not something Edgar figured out over night. If Edgar and Edmund were indeed childhood playmates–and the familiarity of their dialogue and the play’s chronology seem to suggest that they might have been–I’d be willing to bet that Edgar won as many games as he lost. Or if he was constantly struggling to keep up with his brother’s natural cleverness, he undoubtedly learned a thing or two along the way. 

That’s my two cents.

TAG GAME! thank you, @thaknows! ❤️
shuffle your music and post the first ten songs.

1. never gonna give you up - rick astley
2. optigan 1 - blur
3. let there be love - oasis
4. d’you know what i mean - oasis
5. when the sun goes down - arctic monkeys
6. from hell they came - misfits
7. r u mine? - arctic monkeys
8. punishment divine - blind guardian
9. girl afraid - the smiths
10. she’s in parties - bauhaus

i’ll tag @mimimarilynart @esparafuso @gouachley @florakinesis

My theme
Is vast, and drives me on so that the facts
Often exhaust my words. Again a team
Of two, we entered cataracts
Of trembling air, all quietness left behind—
Where no light shines and all who see are blind.
—  Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy (tr. Clive James)
Great Hera! ‘Wonder Woman’ Saves the DCEU (2017 Review)

DC fans. Marvel fans. Just about everybody can finally breathe a sigh of relief, because the DC Extended Universe finally has a strong hit.

“Wonder Woman” is the newest entry in the “Justice League” universe, and is directed by Patty Jenkins. Gal Gadot portrays Princess Diana of the ancient, hidden island of Themyscira. Blinded by the divine protections surrounding the island and the subversive teachings of her mother, Diana’s true powers come into effect just as U.S. Air Service Captain Steve Trevor inadvertently crashes near the island, bearing news of the war he’s fighting outside of their home. Unable to standby, Diana decides to leave Themyscira with Steve, seeking to end the war.

Let me start off by pointing out that Gadot’s acting as Diana is much more charismatic than I thought. The last film I saw her in was the sixth “Fast & Furious” film, a series that I’ve learned not to take seriously in terms of acting or dialogue. But much to my surprise she actually holds her own in this film. There are times where I notice cracks in her acting, particularly in sad or crying scenes. But beyond that, she’s a very convincing actress, especially when it comes to action scenes.

But what really works in her favor is how much her character has to bounce off of Chris Pine. Chris Pine is who carries this film for me. The film really starts to get going once he enters the fray, and he provides the “loving but frustrated” kind of comedy when he hears something Diana says that’s both outlandish and innocent. 

Beyond them, there was a wide cast of characters that range from “brilliantly acted” to “piss-poor attempts.” The first part of the film takes place in Diana’s island of Themyscira, which provides the most amount of bright colors I’ve ever seen in a Zack Snyder or DCEU property. All the amazons are convincingly fierce and primal, including Diana’s mother Hippolyta (Connie Nelson) and aunt Antiope (Robin Wright). 

But when we get back to London, we’re met with Diana’s crew - a group of men Steve recruits. This is the same group of men you all saw in the picture Bruce Wayne discovered in “Batman v Superman,” and only 1/3rd of them are competent. Ewan Bremmer as their marksman Charlie was well-acted, but frankly his character did not need to be there at all. Conversely, Eugene Brave Rock as their smuggler who goes by “Chief,” was necessary to their mission, but was by far the most horrible actor in this film. 

My biggest problem with the DCEU was that it tried so hard to be realistic and gritty that it forgot to make its superheroes feel like superheroes. Batman is on a disillusioned murdering/shooting/stabbing/branding spree after a vague event in the past, Superman is dividing people down a line between those who feel safe with him, and those who want him to leave the planet. Even then, those who support him do so in such an ugly, rioting manner.

Having mentioned the above, I can comfortably let “Wonder Woman” signify my long-held breath of relief. Unlike the other two, Wonder Woman actually is a hopeful, powerful figure. She has the perfect balance of emotion and might, both of which stemmed from her closed-off island upbringing. And it’s this sense of innocence and naiveté that fuels much of her character arc, whereas I hardly remember Superman even having one. 

Not to mention the action in this film is top-notch. Being this hopeful figure also has us much more invested in her action scenes, particularly when these real-world soldiers come across her for the first time. The way she fights is so much more primal and animalistic, which gives way to much better usage of her blaring, electric-cello theme song that was so misused in “BvS.”

But this movie had a good thing going until it had to tackle what most films suffer with: handling the villain. While the DCEU isn’t having as bad of a villain streak as the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it still has had it’s share of terrible villains. “Wonder Woman” is no exception. In promotional material we see Danny Huston as World War I German General Ludendorff, who is actually based on a real-life general. You’d think this is doing tribute to early Golden-age “Wonder Woman” material where she’d fight Nazis and hunt Hitler. But the way Ludendorff is written in this film is the most regular, text-book, unsubtle “Grr I’m a bad guy,” manner of antagony. Same with his right hand woman, Doctor Poison (Elena Anaya). It’s a shame that while this film took one step forward with the “Superhero” aspect, it took two steps back with the “Supervillain.” 

Despite all my praises I have MASSIVE problems with this film, particularly in the climax and in spoiler territory. If you’ve seen the film or don’t care, click here.

“Wonder Woman” might be the one film that saves the DCEU. Those disillusioned with the previous three films can finally rejoice, and naysayers can finally eat crow. Here we have a superhero movie where the main character actually feels like a superhero that inspires hope, rallies the people she fights with, and actually comes with a set of character-building flaws. Despite being set in a time period that was way less respectful to women, her character triumphs and overcomes without shoving messages of social justice down your throats, which is a much more progressive way to handle this. The level of which they handle Wonder Woman harkens back to the good ol’ days of the 2002 “Spider-Man” movie, where superheroes were something to be praised and admired rather than pitied and reprieved. It’s just a shame that the climax - despite being exciting and action-packed - provides such a massive narrative anomaly. Other than that, I think this film is one of the better superhero films I’ve seen recently.

P.S. Save yourself the trouble of waiting for the end of the credits. There is no after-credits scene, nothing to tie it directly to any other DC films. To be honest, I think that’s for the best.

Early Mornings

Wade Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Request: Could you write a one shot where wade and read had a busy night ;) and wade wakes up the next day with morning wood but doesn’t wanna disturb reader ?? you can decide what happens at the end heheh


The smell of sweat was still heavy in the air, your limbs intertwined with his. Your head was resting on Wade’s chest, his arms holding you close to him. The morning light was creeping in from the blinds, casting a divine light over your sleeping form. Despite how peaceful the room may look, it was anything but. Wade was watching the rise and fall of your bare chest, torn between wanting to wake you and wishing to watch you. 

He shifted uncomfortably, hissing when his rock hard length brushed against your thigh. Holding his breath, he observed as you stirred at the noise, giving no other indication of waking up. He sighed in relief, or perhaps it was frustration. Every inch of his skin was on fire, his eyes glazed over at a million different scenarios of you on top of him, beneath him, kneeling before him, or begging him. 

It was enough to make him go mad, his senses alight with the desire for you. But at the same time, his heart was singing in his chest at the soft smile tugging at your lips and the occasional sigh at whatever dream you were having. He only smiled for a moment before the more… pressing matter returned. Wake you up or suffer a while longer? 

Fractured images of last night assaulted his mind, arousal stabbing deep in his abdomen. Your nails had clawed at his back, lips heatedly moving on his while your legs had been wrapped around his hips. It hadn’t been what he was expecting, but he wasn’t disappointed in the least. He expected your first time to be sweet and languid, but it was fast and needy. 

Truthfully, he hadn’t known how much he needed you before last night. When he was buried inside your heat, there was nothing in this world that could possibly tear him down. Every moan and every kiss brought the heavens themselves with them, showing him something he couldn’t have ever dreamed of. And now, he scowled down at the tented sheets, he wished for nothing more than that again.

“Wade?” You whispered groggily, your eyes slitted open. A smile once again bloomed on his face, the adorable expression on your face saving him from the maddening lust once again.

“Morning,” he mumbled. You smiled up at him, watching curiously through your lashes. He looked oddly distressed to your eyes, something that you weren’t expecting.

“Something the matter?” You asked. He shook his head, groaning when your leg rubbed against his hardened length. Your mouth formed an ‘o’, your mind telling you exactly what was wrong. A devious smirk formed on your face, one warm hand tracing his erection through the thin sheets. He was pushing up into your touch, eyes slamming closed at the assault. It was like the heavens themselves had invaded the room, each caress bringing immense pleasure to Wade. And just when he thought he couldn’t feel any better, your hot tongue swiped across his tip, licking the precum beading there. His eyes immediately shot open, a loud moan being torn from his lips.

“(Y/N),” he gurgled, the word being lost in the sensation of your lips around his length, sliding tortuously down every inch of him. You didn’t stop until he hit the back of your throat, your mouth warming him to the core. He had to physically restrain himself from thrusting roughly into your mouth, his hands tangling themselves in your (Y/H/C) locks. 

It took a moment for you to be able to move, your body trying its hardest to adjust to the foreign sensation. But when you did, it was marvelous. Your teeth grazed up his shaft, tongue swirling around it as you bobbed your head up and down. His head was thrown back, face twisted in pleasure as a cacophony of sounds left his parted lips. He was in heaven, every movement of your mouth on him bringing him ever closer to the light. You found it incredibly erotic, the broken phrases and curses arousing you to no end. You could see him grow closer to his release, his grip tightening and his chest moving up and down heavily. Wade was quite sure he’d never felt this good, your mouth doing wonders to him. 

He was so close, he just needed… He threw his head back, your cheeks hollowing around his length finishing him. The light blinded him as his hot seed spilled down your throat, his body humming with pleasure. There was nothing left in the world, only this bright light that encompassed him. It was bliss. Slowly, he came back to his senses. His body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his hands still entangled in your hair, and the constant mantra of your name on his lips. He didn’t even realize he’d been speaking but you didn’t seem to mind. You licked your lips, the very taste of Wade on your tongue. He watched the movement with interest, wrapping his hands around your hips so he could pull you back up to him.

“That was…” He breathed. He hadn’t been expecting that, and even if he had been, he was positive he wouldn’t have ever guessed it would be that pleasurable.

“I know,” you smirked, his expression stroking your ego to no end. He looked absolutely sated, your actions obviously satisfying him. Lazily, he stroked the very top of your thigh, his lips turning up to form his own smirk. “What are you up to?” You asked suspiciously, your gaze on his hand.

“Payback.” He chuckled. He may have stroked your ego, but you had one hell of a feeling you were about to stroke his right back.

IN early thought everything was a person, in the loose meaning then possessed by personality, and many such “persons” were worshipped–earth, sun, moon, sea, wind, etc. This led later to more complete personification, and the sun or earth divinity or spirit was more or less separated from the sun or earth themselves. Some Celtic divinities were thus evolved, but there still continued a veneration of the objects of nature in themselves, as well as a cult of nature spirits or secondary divinities who peopled every part of nature. “Nor will I call out upon the mountains, fountains, or hills, or upon the rivers, which are now subservient to the use of man, but once were an abomination and destruction to them, and to which the blind people paid divine honours,” cries Gildas. This was the true cult of the folk, the “blind people,” even when the greater gods were organised, and it has survived with modifications in out-of-the-way places, in spite of the coming of Christianity.

S. Kentigern rebuked the Cambrians for worshipping the elements, which God made for man’s use. The question of the daughters of Loegaire also throws much light on Celtic nature worship. “Has your god sons or daughters? … Have many fostered his sons? Are his daughters dear and beautiful to men? Is he in heaven or on earth, in the sea, in the rivers, in the mountains, in the valleys?” The words suggest a belief in divine beings filling heaven, earth, sea, air, hills, glens, lochs, and rivers, and following human customs.

—  The Religion of the Ancient Celts by J. A. MacCullogh

myopia, god in the wings,
the boy spreading his joy
all over me, his face as open
as velvet.

this is what the dog wants,
what moms want, the keeling
kind of love struck dumb. the
silence of a gesture, a mouth
bruised in a bad way. no, wait -

when i met him his name was
something else, transcendental,
happy accident. it didn’t yet kill
me to hear it. a better translation
from a language of sadness. you
know the drill.

later, his tongue wide as a mile on
a holy road. something ugly in the
eyes. he would feed me fresh plums,
planting the pits along the roadside.

when i say it was easy, i’m lying.
happiness is a kind of blindness,
divining the truth from a few wet
seeds. he spoke of flesh as
something absent from itself,
hands growing larger each time
the night settled around us.

in the distance, thunder. the whole
world rumbling. our bath water
turning the colour of four dollar
wine. somewhere some glorious
grievance, a tree in salted soil
bearing fruit.

—  REGULAR BOYS | agooduniverse

Icarus, I know you believe yourself dead now that your wings have melted. Your father crafted them poorly out of materials he knew would likely fail. You were a child you were bound to test the limits. That is what youth does; how else can we hope to grow? You plummeted towards the ocean blaming yourself for the betrayal of the fragile wings he made you.

Somehow, through blind luck or perhaps divine intervention, you wound up on the shore, far from all you knew. You think yourself to be a dead-man-walking, unaware that you still live. Your grin is a barely concealed snarl, daring anyone to break this facade you’ve constructed around yourself. You laugh as you pump your veins full of toxins, a solitary game of Russian Roulette, wondering which drink will be the bullet through your skull.

But life grows from death, and though you try to douse yourself in poison, new growth prevails. Here and there the tiny shoots of new growth glimmer through, reaching up towards the light you refuse to believe is there. Every so often the snarl cracks to reveal a genuine smile. Your laughter is sometimes filled with joy. In these moments you bloom, even if only for a second.

Death did not kill you. The chaotic waves cradled you in a cocoon, rocking you while you metamorphosed. You are growing new wings. They’re still wet and clinging to your back, too fragile to carry you. But with time and patience they will spread and you will fly. And this time you will fly on real wings, not ones manufactured out of broken hopes and lies. It takes time for these wings to grow and develop, but they’re there, I promise you.

You live, you fight, you are the dandelion that grows in the cracks of asphalt. Icarus, you are scared to look towards the sun because the last time you got close to it you fell. But Icarus, that was because you were on your own, your father left you to fly on his own. This time we will fly towards the heavens together. This time we will catch each other. This time we will leave the chains of gravity behind and soar together through the clouds, through storm and calm, until we find our perch where we will roost and look down at the sorrows we left behind.

— 

Brother do you believe in an afterlife
Where our souls will both collide
In some great Elysium
Way up in the sky
Free from our shackles, our chains
Our mouths, our brains
We’ll open all the gates
And we will walk careless
Straight into the light (x)

A response to this. Sorry @pragmaticgryffindor I don’t write nearly as nicely as you do. But I felt this needed to be said, to you and so many others.

THE LETTER

I just wanted to say something about the famous letter. I don’t give a shit if you agree or disagree, but I agree and I’ll tell you why.
So, we’re in 2014 and remembering last year, we have to do some matching.
Remember the fantastic #AskJaredLeto by Jared on Twitter? That doesn’t exist anymore.
Remember the long VyRTs? 6 hours VyRTs. That doesn’t exist anymore.
Remember free VyRT Violet? That doesn’t exist anymore.
setlists: 13 songs. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? 13 SONGS? They should do at least 20 songs!
The tour is called “Love Lust Faith + Dreams”, ok, but… no S/T songs at all? That’s not fair!
Not all the Echelon prefer the last two albums, some prefer the S/T and ABL (like me).
How many times do we cry ‘cause we’ll never listen to songs like Buddha For Mary or R-Evolve live?
The band is far, far away from us. Close, but far away.
They don’t love us like they did before, they don’t answer to us on Twitter anymore, they ignore every single request we make.
They considered us like a family, and a family has the right to give some advice, but they are ignoring us.
The Echelon always fight for what they believe in, Mars taught us, and now we are fighting to get the old Mars back.
I’m sick and tired of live songs unfinished with an acoustic guitar.
I WANT FULL BAND SONGS, LIKE THE KILL, LIKE IT WAS BEFORE.
Do you like Mars who only cares about money and not about us? Good for you, we don’t.
We want Mars who cares about us, who hears our desperate requests, who listens to us.
Jared, Shannon and Tomo are my life, they will always be, but I don’t recognize the band I discovered many years ago anymore.
Don’t you see how much they are far away from us?
On Twitter they only write things like “Go VIP with…” and I don’t give a fuck about that shit.
I want answers, I want them to have a relationship with us like it was before.
Dammit, why are you so blind? You divinize them, you see them as gods, you only want to fuck Jared or Shannon and you don’t give a shit about the music.
You only wait for the moment when Jared says “Do you really want me?” during Hurricane only to scream “Yeeeeeeah” like horny girls.
You live in another world where you think Jared and Shannon will marry you, will have babies with you, and you don’t realize how much it’s all fucked-up with this band.
Stop licking their asses and grow up, for God’s sake! You won’t receive a medal for “Best Echelon of the year”.
We are all Echelon, you don’t have the fucking right to say who is an Echelon and who isn’t an Echelon.
“I’m the Echelon and I don’t agree with that letter”. What the fuck does this mean?
That people who agree are not Echelon? I agree and I’m an Echelon like you, SO SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH UP.
Go back to your dreams where Jared fucks you all day long, but don’t say that we are not real Echelon.
Leave us alone, we will fight until the end and you can’t do a shit about it.
Provehito In Altum.
Bye!