Today in the theatre of the gloriously out of context:

[livejournal.com profile] artan_eter: Well, you could have earth, air, water, and bees.
kiya: (witch)
( Jul. 25th, 2014 09:32 am)
really call for this sort of icon, really. And fortunately, last night Finch@DW gave me one.

Ah, XKCD 386, you are what you are.
Poly problems for Slytherins! "The competition is not where you think it is. Your superiority is already demonstrated."
kiya: (akhet)
( Jul. 27th, 2012 12:30 pm)
"Little Gidding", first part of part V, by T. S. Eliot:

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,
Taking its place to support the others,
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word exact without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together)
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
kiya: (ma'at)
( Jun. 2nd, 2012 09:16 pm)
"Dude. Dude. Dude dude dude."

I was thinking about temples and foundations, as I often do.

"What?" [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan asked me.

"There's a thing," I explained, "where you sit and stare at it and you don't get anywhere and then suddenly you know what to do and you can do research and...." I kissed him.

"Bye!" said [livejournal.com profile] whispercricket, as I packed up my computer and prepared to scurry up to the office.

"[livejournal.com profile] whispercricket understands!"

"I wasn't even really paying attention," she comments.

I am pulling books off the shelves, flipping through the indexes, muttering 'stretching the cord', which I looked up on a few websites, but I want things in books, for citations. I toss Seth: God of Confusion onto the bed in its notebook, and add Ancient Egyptian Construction and Architecture, and go through several books and put them back.

Then I pause, and take one of those books down off the shelf again. "86, 86...."

I was actually looking for page 87, but close enough.

I read. "At Edfu, inscriptions in the temple tell us that it was oriented from Orion in the south to the Great Bear in the north."

I put the book down.

My mind is exploding.

Pedj-shes.
kiya: (hethert)
( Feb. 26th, 2012 01:33 am)
"You don't get to be sensible. You get to learn to truly love, which is beyond sense."
kiya: (everything new)
( Aug. 17th, 2011 12:13 am)
Silence is a crocodile.
kiya: (dua set)
( Sep. 17th, 2010 01:13 am)
"You're making me ... pedantic. You won't like me when I'm pedantic."
From a poem read at church today:
"How difficult it is to construct a heaven without clouds."

From conversation with [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan:
"I don't mind needing to improve, but I deeply resent being not good enough."
kiya: (pooka)
( Apr. 11th, 2010 10:24 pm)
IM IN MAI KITCHEN
ASSEMBLN MAI PETTYFORS

REAL TEA PARTY WILL HAVE PETTYFORS

(come the revolution you will have strawberries and chocolate
and you will like strawberries and chocolate)
kiya: (mature wisdom)
( Aug. 14th, 2009 10:11 pm)
Comment posted elsewhere:

"Irresponsibility looks like less work because responsibility has upfront costs."
kiya: (fuzzy gears)
( Apr. 19th, 2009 02:49 am)
Is next weekend next weekend already?

Waugh.
Today, I am a kitten with a ball of sky-blue yarn who wants to pounce on [livejournal.com profile] loveandpower's toes.

I may need to watch 2001 again; I suddenly wonder if it might make sense this time.

Also, hearing Rumi can give me tremendous chills.
kiya: (marriage)
( Oct. 24th, 2006 12:58 am)
I find myself thinking of people I know as symbols.

Whole people, with their own independent existence and impact on the world, but both real people to me, and emblems of something else. I know I'm not the only person who has this; I've talked with other people about this sort of thing.

I write occasionally about the one who became my muse -- a real person who probably spares not a thought for an elementary school almost-friend -- but also a huge function of how I am who I am.

I never write about the one who is the stray arrow, the one that poisoned Chiron.

Hold your loved ones close, you hear me? Hold them close.


(A thousand of bread, a thousand of beer, a thousand of every good thing.)

    I try to find the strength I need
    To calm the doubts in my beliefs
    With the will, I know my heart won't break

    And if I have strength then I've belief
    If I have love my heart still beats
    Here under stars
    Far from home
... where I suddenly connect up BDSM theory and witchcraft theory:

"My commitment to align my will can only be worth as much as my will."



Meanwhile, I spilled about a third of a allon of milk in the kitchen, which makes me cranky.


... man, I missed having this song ...

"Check it in, check it out, making love I like watching all your fireworks ... I like it when I light those stars in your eyes ..."
Because I so don't want to chronicle my day.

It occurs to me that at least one of my issues with constructing sexual fantasies without consent of any other parties involved boils down to a writing problem.

Specifically: "You don't really have a good enough handle on this character to predict how they'll behave in this situation, do you?"

Hah.

(Also, without said consent, said character wouldn't be in that situation, so no story.)

Memory pastiche is much easier.
kiya: (feri)
( Jan. 2nd, 2006 02:05 am)
Whoa whoa whoa.

Thingy.

I need to read Musashi now.

And make a Djehwty shrine.
kiya: (lotus discordia)
( Sep. 7th, 2005 02:19 am)
If a message from a god, an oracle, or whatever other mystical source appears to be perfectly clear, that is a sign of a critical lack of necessary perspective.
I feel like Penelope.
My legal name is an anagram for "Innocent Allah here."
.

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