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Awnings…serve no structural purpose, and many fine buildings are aesthetically pleasing without them. Yet they act as a kind of way station, a place to pause while between an inside and an outside.
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You call yourself Monster, Primal, Menace, Other. Not in metaphor. In invocation. You were not built for the mundane. You were made for Worship.
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Communion does not mean a loss of individuality or the surrender of self into some collective whole. It is the moment when distinct lives, distinct journeys, and distinct truths are offered into relationship with one another.
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This is who I am. I will not disappear.
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The Season of Reckoning arrives with muddy boots and dirty hands shouting: Pleasure is sacred!
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Myth, more language than history, is a living thing. It breathes through retelling, shifts with culture, and reshapes itself to reflect the fears, values, and questions of the people who carry it forward.
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Before taste becomes instinctual, before repeated technique evolves into voice, before vision finds coherence, before you become good, you must be terrible.
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We do not live inside reality first. We live inside language about reality.
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What survived the Long Cold is not immediately welcomed back.
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The Panther’s power is not in his roar, but in the quiet intensity with which he hunts.