people who make it so their blogs can only be seen as like a weird mobile-esque sidewindow thing should be sent to the Ultradeluxe Disapproval Sphere imho
«Some say the word Odradek is of Slavonic origin, and try to account for it on that basis. Others again believe it to be of German origin, only influenced by Slavonic. The uncertainty of both interpretations allows one to assume with justice that neither is accurate, especially as neither of them provides an intelligent meaning of the word.
No one, of course, would occupy himself with such studies if there were not a creature called Odradek. At first glance it looks like a flat star-shaped spool for thread, and indeed it does seem to have thread wound upon it; to be sure, they are only old, broken-off bits of thread, knotted and tangled together, of the most varied sorts and colors. But it is not only a spool, for a small wooden crossbar sticks out of the middle of the star, and another small rod is joined to that at a right angle. By means of this latter rod on one side and one of the points of the star on the other, the whole thing can stand upright as if on two legs.
One is tempted to believe that the creature once had some sort of intelligible shape and is now only a broken-down remnant. Yet this does not seem to be the case; at least there is no sign of it; nowhere is there an unfinished or unbroken surface to suggest anything of the kind; the whole thing looks senseless enough, but in its own way perfectly finished. In any case, closer scrutiny is impossible, since Odradek is extraordinarily nimble and can never be laid hold of.
He lurks by turns in the garret, the stairway, the lobbies, the entrance hall. Often for months on end he is not to be seen; then he has presumably moved into other houses; but he always comes faithfully back to our house again. Many a time when you go out of the door and he happens just to be leaning directly beneath you against the banisters you feel inclined to speak to him. Of course, you put no difficult questions to him, you treat him--he is so diminutive that you cannot help it--rather like a child. "Well, what's your name?" you ask him. "Odradek," he says. "And where do you live?" "No fixed abode," he says and laughs; but it is only the kind of laughter that has no lungs behind it. It sounds rather like the rustling of fallen leaves. And that is usually the end of the conversation. Even these anwers are not always forthcoming; often he stays mute for a long time, as wooden as his appearance.
I ask myself, to no purpose, what is likely to happen to him? Can he possibly die? Anything that dies has had some kind of aim in life, some kind of activity, which has worn out; but that does not apply to Odradek. Am I to suppose, then, that he will always be rolling down the stairs, with ends of thread trailing after him, right before the feet of my children, and my children's children? He does no harm to anyone that one can see; but the idea that he is likely to survive me I find almost painful
people who make it so their blogs can only be seen as like a weird mobile-esque sidewindow thing should be sent to the Ultradeluxe Disapproval Sphere imho
I do this as a safeguard after one too many accidents
people who make it so their blogs can only be seen as like a weird mobile-esque sidewindow thing should be sent to the Ultradeluxe Disapproval Sphere imho
I am pretty sure that's if their blogs are private, or something, rather than some theme-specific deal.
people who make it so their blogs can only be seen as like a weird mobile-esque sidewindow thing should be sent to the Ultradeluxe Disapproval Sphere imho
I am pretty sure that's if their blogs are private, or something, rather than some theme-specific deal.
chocolate hammerhead shark. it speaks a forgotten and ancient language both disturbing and enchanting to mortal ears. it has far too many teeth and they are all sharp.
chocolate hammerhead shark. it speaks a forgotten and ancient language both disturbing and enchanting to mortal ears. it has far too many teeth and they are all sharp.
Xanthorgh the Flayer. I have emanations at strategic locations in every population center, and I subsist entirely on higher-dimensional parasites picked from the brains of local sentients.
black hellhound. it is always blushing. it calls everybody comrade. <- this could be someone I know. I, myself, am afraid of dogs. glossy black pigeon. it has full sleeve tattoos. it has two heads. <- cool, cool tiny black vulture. its eyes are pitch black and cause those who look directly into them for too long to slowly grow older. its facial features are constantly shifting. <- also cool abyssal cardinal. it has a hoard of gems and gold that was pillaged from innocent villagers. it has a thick beard. <- is this not anti-clerical propaganda? ghostly panther. it has a forked tongue. it wears a black leather outfit. <- also also cool holy raven. it has very long hair with many flowers in it. it glows softly and gently- evidence of a heavenly being. <- yeah
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Others again believe it to be of German origin, only influenced by Slavonic. The uncertainty
of both interpretations allows one to assume with justice that neither is accurate, especially
as neither of them provides an intelligent meaning of the word.
called Odradek. At first glance it looks like a flat star-shaped spool for thread, and indeed it
does seem to have thread wound upon it; to be sure, they are only old, broken-off bits of
thread, knotted and tangled together, of the most varied sorts and colors. But it is not only
a spool, for a small wooden crossbar sticks out of the middle of the star, and another small
rod is joined to that at a right angle. By means of this latter rod on one side and one of the
points of the star on the other, the whole thing can stand upright as if on two legs.
now only a broken-down remnant. Yet this does not seem to be the case; at least there is
no sign of it; nowhere is there an unfinished or unbroken surface to suggest anything of the
kind; the whole thing looks senseless enough, but in its own way perfectly finished. In any
case, closer scrutiny is impossible, since Odradek is extraordinarily nimble and can never
be laid hold of.
months on end he is not to be seen; then he has presumably moved into other houses; but
he always comes faithfully back to our house again. Many a time when you go out of the
door and he happens just to be leaning directly beneath you against the banisters you feel
inclined to speak to him. Of course, you put no difficult questions to him, you treat him--he
is so diminutive that you cannot help it--rather like a child. "Well, what's your name?" you
ask him. "Odradek," he says. "And where do you live?" "No fixed abode," he says and
laughs; but it is only the kind of laughter that has no lungs behind it. It sounds rather like
the rustling of fallen leaves. And that is usually the end of the conversation. Even these
anwers are not always forthcoming; often he stays mute for a long time, as wooden as his
appearance.
that dies has had some kind of aim in life, some kind of activity, which has worn out; but
that does not apply to Odradek. Am I to suppose, then, that he will always be rolling down
the stairs, with ends of thread trailing after him, right before the feet of my children, and
my children's children? He does no harm to anyone that one can see; but the idea that he
is likely to survive me I find almost painful
(The other Jane)
just as well, it doesn't work on my telephone
boring eh acceptable
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
saving for someone else -pap-
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
clicked a second time and got which is almost the same as what Crystal got
one more
(The other Jane)
(The other Jane)
glossy black pigeon. it has full sleeve tattoos. it has two heads. <- cool, cool
tiny black vulture. its eyes are pitch black and cause those who look
directly into them for too long to slowly grow older. its facial
features are constantly shifting. <- also cool
abyssal cardinal. it has a hoard of gems and gold that was pillaged from innocent villagers. it has a thick beard. <- is this not anti-clerical propaganda?
ghostly panther. it has a forked tongue. it wears a black leather outfit. <- also also cool
holy raven. it has very long hair with many flowers in it. it glows softly and gently- evidence of a heavenly being. <- yeah
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead