lost, delirious, unbearbly curious

powerssuggestion:

Modern angels

Angels smoking cigarettes off of balconies. They write proverbs on bathroom walls and sing hymns in the aisles of grocery stores.

Angels still filled with fury from before. They hold a grudge. They carry a knife. Their words are sharp and hurt worse than any blade ever could.

Angels with soft voices and hard eyes. Angels trying to fit in. They’re trying to erase the pain

Angels with wrists covered in runes, angels trying to speak in the tongues that used to come so naturally but this mouth just can’t form the words.

Angels you meet on the street. They touch your shoulder and you’re struck with lightning.

Angels filled with ideas. Their mind is buzzing. Covered in paint and chalk, you know they’re miles ahead of you.

Angels on their front porches, drinking sweet tea with a goddess. It’s nothing like ambrosia, but it’s close enough.

Angels with bloody noses and a smile. Angels who’re confused by this life. It’s not so black and white anymore.

Angels who speak with their fists and are close to none. Their Father has left them in the dust. No one can help them.

Angels holding their partners close while dancing. This life won’t last forever, so they wanna hold her tight while they can.

apoeticmythos:

“i. athena dresses in cool, slick suits for office hours, and then after she clocks out, she beats her knuckles in on other people’s jawbones. the fight clubs are her temples. ii. apollo shoots deer down with guns with his sister, then plays in the local late-night rock band, so that he can shoot up heroin after the show. nobody ever specified what music meant to him. iii. artemis takes anti-depressants to live, after actaeon raped her, and if she didn’t then she’d never be able to hunt with her brother. sometimes strong people don’t fight back. iv. zeus is a corporate ceo of human services, making storms in other people’s lives, and he’s fucking his assistant, ganymede, in the bathroom stalls. the storm-master needs a little lightning of his own. v. hera marries zeus, sipping cool red wine out of a long-stemmed glass, that she throws on him when she finds out. she stays because as a marriage counselor, you have to take your own advice. vi. aphrodite is a senior in high school, the school slut, with a thing for ares, who‘s four years older. chain-smoking tastes like 50’s perfume if you try hard enough. vii. poseidon goes to trial for the rape of medusa, committed in the back room of athena’s fight club, demeter testifies against him, too. the father of two burned out his secrets. viii. ares fights at athena’s ring, beats up the douche who hits his girlfriend on the street, a raging feminist ally who bluffs his way through immorality. his motorcycle is the loudest noise in the city that never sleeps. ix. hades is a nice guy, his fingers flash with jeweled rings when he waves them, dealing drugs out of his pocket. sweet girls with bloody teeth are his favorite dessert. x. persephone crunches diamonds between her teeth, she sucks the rings off of hades’s finger, and decorates his house with floral arrangements and nonconformity. there’s only one queen of the underworld. xi. demeter rubs lotion over her dark skin at the flower shop, she does her best to teach her daughter, that laying down flat is for doormats. queens raise queens. xii. dionysus spends his nights drinking jack and smoking weed, long since dead to the concept of balance, balance is for the weak. who doesn’t want to live in extremes? xiii. hermes is a sweet-talker with great legs, his affections fleeting and wild, as he swings around the pole at the all-opportunities club. his life is flashing lights and nights in jail for petty theft. xiv. hephaestus is dedicated to work as well as his wife, let’s be honest, algaea is as much work as the metal craft he does in their garage. rough hands build things that endure. xv. hestia is a young girl, a freshman in high school, but her eyes are burning with fire as she protects what is hers. she was taught young to strike first and you will always be safe. in this world that kills beauty, even gods cannot survive the fall. modern gods were not made for this place.”

— modern gods; l.m.

just–a-small–town-witch:

I hear Athenas war cry in the shouts of protests,
fighting a war now closer to home,
I see her in the young women with picket signs
clenched tightly in their fists

Hera curses the names of the abusers
The ones who break families and marriages
Her voice heard in the wedding bells of young lovers

Poseidon now resides in a beach home
Going out every night to pick of trash left by the day
Shooting daggers at the drunk men letting their bottles be swept away

Demeter can be heard cursing the politicians refusing to believe in global warming
Names of scientists and studies on the tip of her tongue
She is found teaching young children how to grow their food at the community garden

Ares is found on the front lines of a different war, not fighting but protecting the innocent
Guiding classrooms of children away from gunfire,
His shield protecting the terrified

Apollo can be found at opens mics
Reciting his latest works
Or walking down the street in docs on his feet and a guitar on his back
He knows he’s the coolest

Artemis is seen on the streets
Her bow and arrow have long left her
Carrying nothing more than a knife and mace
She hunts a different kind of monster now

Hephaestus resides in a workshop at all hours of the night
Creating custom pieces for the right price and a warm smile
The hammer making him feel invincible

Aphrodite’s song is heard in the breathy kisses of teenagers
Shes found walking down the street, lips a blood red
Punching the men who dare disrespect her  

Hermes is seen with a smirk as he walks long well-traveled roads
Delivering the messages of those needing to be heard
Traveling, telling stories, and wearing out another pair of shoes

Dionysus’s voice heard only over the pounding bass in the bar
Keeping watch over young girls drinks
Dancing, partying and living as he throws another one back

Hades is seen weeping over the graves of those taken much to soon
Looking to his wife for comfort
He’s long lost his faith in humanity

Persephone found in the gardens beside her mother in the spring
Brushing off girl’s dirty knees and putting flower crowns on their heads
She can be seen holding onto hades as he mourns the loss of life

Hecate will be found running metaphysical shops
Bringing hope to powerful women wanting more
Selling potions, nobody thinks will work
And collecting graveyard dirt for a new spell

Zeus is watching over everyone
Watches Athena cry
Hera curse the men, he being one of them
Poseidon’s glares
Demeter’s harsh words
Ares raising his shield
Apollos singing
Artemis as she tracks a new beast
Watches Hephaestus work
Sees Aphrodite punch
Hears Hermes words
Sees hades weep
And Persephone plant and comfort her partner
And grins as Hecate keeps magic alive

The old gods are not dead

They are alive

And they are watching

spacemonkeymafia42:

plaggnoir:

elfwreck:

anexperimentallife:

oh-my-meoww:

suicunesrider:

magic-in-a-bottle:

toomanyfandomsforonetobemyurl:

survivor-surviving:

diamondsamura1:

thewonderfulthingaboutfish:

nutriecutie:

cl4yton:

parskis:

i swear to god, men raising their voice is the most terrifying thing in the whole world. they dont understand, like its an immediate panic response, game over

I actually had no idea women found this so scary

my downstairs neighbors fight on a regular basis, and every time he starts yelling i’m a little afraid he’s going to kill her. i have no reason to think this except that he is a man and he is angry

My math teacher has a loud voice and a temper and he scares the living shit out of me almost everyday. He’s made me and other kids cry more than once and he and his teacher buddies make a joke out of terrifying students.

this was women in general? i knew my gf didn’t like it but I was unaware if this affected most women

Yes, it does

As a woman, I had no idea it effected other women like this. I was too afraid to even talk about it. I thought I was weak. Thanks for bringing attention to this.

My dad thinks it’s funny that I used to cry when he raised his voice. I freak out whenever some one does. Once my director did, and I started crying I couldn’t stop. I’m glad to see I’m not alone…

This is so important– seeing how common this is– and I also want you all to know that this is not normal. It isn’t something instinctively ingrained into women, to be afraid of men. There is no natural state of men being a threat that women constantly have to be afraid of. This is cultural. So many women and girls here have a mutual understanding of this feeling, and I think it really shows an unsettling truth about our society, particularly about how men are raised to act and how so many women have this defensive reaction gradually develop. It’s so important that these people have their voices heard, because it teaches us about problems that we just can’t deny the existence of any longer.

I’m glad I’m not the only one

My fellow men, pay attention. I didn’t realize how scary this could be until one of my exes explained it to me, and it’s heartbreaking.

Also, when we move too much during an argument, or lean forward, it’s scary, and I never knew. I was even a little insulted at first, because surely she didn’t think I would hurt her. But see, that doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a sign that she mistrusted me specifically; it’s a conditioned response. (Although if you keep doing it once you realize it scares her, she SHOULDN’T trust you.)

Not every woman has been physically harmed by a man she trusted, but every woman KNOWS a woman who has.

I used to be horrible about this, because I didn’t realize how intimidating it was. I didn’t understand why the woman I was with clammed up or tried to tell me what she thought I wanted to hear, and I only got angrier, and acted even more like an asshole. It was wrong. It was abusive. It didn’t matter if I INTENDED it that way; it was still emotionally abusive. And it was inexcusable.

I get that when passions are high, and when you’re frustrated, it’s a natural tendency to let your voice get louder, to shout and gesture and lean forward. But you can train yourself to do better. You can train yourself to keep more of an even tone, to refrain from large and fast gestures, to not lean into her personal space. I did. I’m not perfect at it yet, but goddamn it, I WILL be.

Don’t tell me it’s too hard, that you just can’t do it, or that you “shouldn’t have to.” I’m 53 years old and just now getting the hang of it, and if this old dog can learn something new, so can you.

Note to guys: It really, REALLY doesn’t matter if you’re thinking, “but I would never…”

History is littered with the bodies of women who believed a man “would never.” This includes women killed by men who honestly, deeply, truly believed they “would never”… right up until she said that one thing or moved in just that way and he just got so mad, just that once, and pushed her or punched her or slashed her or shot her… just once, y’know, to shut her up, or because she was flinching and didn’t she know that HE’S NOT LIKE THAT and I’LL TEACH HER TO BE AFRAID OF ME…

We are trained, from infancy, that Men With Loud Voices are a source of pain from which we cannot escape, and attempts to escape may result in more pain. And as soon as we’re old enough to comprehend a world broader than our immediate circle, a world that extends into the past and will run into the future, we realize that there is no way, no way at all, to tell which men “would never” and which men “would never… except if.”

We live or die on that “if.” And any man who doesn’t like facing that hyper-vigilance can work on fixing OTHER MEN, not women’s fear.

The reaction shouldn’t be “not all men are like that;” it should be “no woman should have to live in fear.”

It’s telling that so many people will hear a story of long-term abuse and say, “why did she stay with him?” and not “why did he treat her like that?”

This made me cry.

Don’t skip over this.

(via ladyspaghetti)

ladyspaghetti:

 Hestia comforts the children of broken homes, she appears to them as a school councilor that always has cookies. They cry in her arms, and she lets them stay with her for as long as she can. She stopped calling home, stopped making strongly worded comments to the parents. All there is left are broken homes and suffering children.

 Hera sits next to her sister, holds her hand and thinks about the broken marriages that lead to broken homes. She listens to the couples yelling at each other while she walks on the streets. She holds the crying women, she listens to the hopeless men. All of the power that a goddess of marriage possesses cannot help the people who were betrayed by their closest ones.

 After a long day, Demeter sits on the ground in her garden, holds a cup of tea in hands that have dirt all over them. She wishes that more people would remember what is under all of the concrete. She feels the dying of her world, and curses those who do not care for it.

Keep reading

ash-castle:

‘The old gods are dead’ they tell you.

You smile and nod and wipe out another glass. Your eyes dart to the old man in the corner booth. You never see him come, but you always see him leave. Each night a new young lover on his arm.

You pretend not to see his wife watching with jealousy blazing in her eyes and peacock feathers printed on her dress. Her sharpened nails tap, tap, tapping a beat you can hear over the din.

‘If they were still around, where are they?’ They continue with a wild wave of their arm. The man next to them looks up and grins and raises his glass at you in a toast and buys them another round. It’s only after he’s turned away you realize his teeth were too sharp and that the glint in his eye was something more than delight.

On the stage a young man sings. He’s there every night with his golden guitar and his golden skin and his golden hair. He sings of love and loss and boys who fly too high, only to fall. You know the song, he plays it almost every night.

His sister stands in the corner, watching, on edge. You keep half an eye on her. She seems constantly in motion yet when you focus, she is still. Last week she broke a man’s arm. You never saw her move.

'The old gods are dead.’ They say with finality.

You look around the room and meet old and tired eyes in hungry faces.

'Maybe,’ you begin and pause as the room seems to go quiet, holding its breath. 'Maybe you aren’t looking hard enough.’

-gods never die

latenightcornerstore:

“My heart likes to start fights with the inside of my ribs where everyone loses. For weeks, my lungs have been purple punching bags. My stomach is being polished into a wood panel floor. I’m selling tickets to my own heartbreak. Blood and broken noses are what put bodies in the seats. These are real bar brawls, ladies and gentlemen. Nothing is staged, here. Sure, there have been a few– accidents. The kind of hits you don’t get back up from. But that’s the price of business, isn’t it? And don’t you want a show?”

— THE PRICE IS GOING UP by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

(Source: latenightcornerstore)