not me still v crying over the omnicron quests !

Next Right Action That Help The Zodiac Signs Progress On Their Paths

Aries:  Rescue – “Asking for help isn’t easy for many successful people. However, that’s what you need to do now as you expand your life. If you find yourself troubled, you can expect help with whatever issue is at hand now. You need only ask, and assistance will come your way. The most important support you can expect is from Spirit. Get into a right relationship with the Divine and you’ll see that many conditions line up as if by magic to provide you with all the help you need. Ask and you will receive. There is no need to fear. Safety is a place within.”

Taurus:  Cleaning House – “Why do you hold on to things that remind you of the past? Is your home cluttered with objects that bring up unhappy memories? Do you have a tendency to attract broken people who need to be fixed? If you’re involved in this type of emotional project, stop right now and “clean house.” Being needed isn’t going to get you what you really need. That said, even if you initially resist letting go of excess physical or emotional baggage, you’ll feel amazing afterward. Let go, and let the universe bring you something better. The universe doesn’t like a vacuum and will respond to your housecleaning by filling your home with what will best serve you.”

Gemini:  Flying – “If you were a bird flying high in the air, what would you see? When you soar above life’s challenges and opportunities, a new perspective becomes available. Today you have invisible wings that allow you to swiftly bring your circumstances into alignment with your highest purpose. This is a sign that your waiting is over, that all your hard work has paid off and the things you hoped for are no longer beyond your scope. You have the ability to reach for the stars and find one with your name on it. Spread your wings and soar.”

Cancer:  Deep Freeze – “Nothing you can do right now will amount to anything substantial no matter how much you try, push, manipulate, or cajole. Life wants you to take a break. You need to do this now, lest you become exhausted and be forced to rest. What you need will be there for you when you emerge in the springtime. For now, winter has its own ideas for you. Wait for signs of spring.”

Leo:  Wide Open – “All manner of opportunities are presented to you at this time. The wide open card is a signal that you’re able to truly manifest your dreams and that your goals are in sight. Don’t remain small and contracted. Instead, expand your horizons beyond what you believe to be your limitations. You have a unique voice that needs to be expressed in the world. The universe is supportive of new ideas and approaches at this time, so speak up and out.”

Virgo:  Come together – When the come together card appears reversed, it is a sign that perhaps a love connection is unbalanced. Is intimacy being withheld from you, or are you withholding it from another? Longing and yearning are often mistaken for love—when in fact they are signs of lack. Perhaps you’ve been doing all the emotional work and pouring your water into an empty well, to the point that now you are also depleted. Know this: true love will not be denied you. What is truly for you will never walk past you or require this much energy. True love will allow ways find its reflection in another.”

Libra:  Field of dreams – “This is the perfect time to harness the field of vast potential not yet realized in your life. Great abundance is yours if you’re willing to do the work alongside the Gentle Gardener. Be clear about your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. Concentrate on your best life regardless of the temporary outer conditions imposed upon you by the greater world, which has its own story to tell. You have a basket full of seeds that are quite powerful, for your talents are Divinely inspired and will indeed lead to great harvest to be shared with others. You will reap what you have sown. Dream big, dream beautiful, take action, and tend to the garden of your life….and experience the extraordinary.”

Scorpio: The magical map shifter – “This card may bring you the opposite of what you seek. Perhaps you’re in denial about your situation and refuse to see the truth. Or maybe you’ve been traveling down a path that has constantly led you to a field of poppies, where you fall asleep and dream of desires that never find their form. To have the life you really want, you must match its vibrational energy and resonate with it. Sometimes our greatest hurts and disappointments are what awaken us to our need to shift to a higher frequency.”

Sagittarius: Spark – “Sometimes your fire gets doused by other who don’t want you to be all that you can be. In that case, you need to move away from the “water,” lest things get too damp. The spark card in the reverse may indicate that you’re allowing yourself to be so consumed by a thought, feeling, or situation that you’re in danger of becoming completely burned-out. Compulsion and impulsiveness must be tempered now. Rest by a warm fire. Let things die down a bit. Then you’ll see if the true spark will still be there. If not, you can always light another fire at another time.”

Capricorn: Home – “Peace, security, safety, belonging, and all the features one would want from “home” are indicated now. The home card represents an invitation to experience what it’s like to be secure in your own skin, to live comfortably no matter what is happening in the world around you. It is time for opening your eyes to your tribe of like-minded people, or one special person who makes you feel like you’ve come. Home is love, and love is all around you now. Whatever your inquiry, you are where you’re meant to be and will reap great benefits by staying on this path regardless of where it leads. Home will always be with you—it is where the heart is.”

Aquarius: Goblins – “Goblins are born when you’re wounded and something essential is lost in that experience. From that point on, as you forget your wholeness, they remain with you in the shadows. There, they remind you of what brought them into being, by mimicking your own voice, tricking you into believing that you’re unworthy, victimized, or unlovable. They hold you hostage through self-worth, self-sabotage, and the feeling that you’re lacking what you need. If goblins pay you a visit, know that they represent the shadow of your own self, or someone else’s, and they’re leading you into a potentially reactive situation. A goblins card appearance is an opportunity for growth, however, and a signal that you must love yourself. No human is without flaws. You must release resentments and negative self-talk. Miracles can happen. Let go of negativity.

Pisces: Gentle Gardner – “The gentle gardener is visiting you at this moment in your life to remind you that your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs create the reality you experience. She is the embodiment of the energy within you that is sent into the field of co-creation and ensures that all that you are is reflected in the world of form. Are you aware of your thoughts? What is their quality? Believe in limitless possibility and you will see miracles unfold. The gentle gardener guarantees the integrity of everything you send out into the world. Stay positive and expect a wondrous return. Your garden is abundant with beauty.”

Source: rose-oracles

a mermaid’s childhood

~ i still am who i was as a child. my childhood is not a distant experience, it still exists within me and is part of my life in every moment. as a child, i had complete awareness and a full understanding of the universe. i knew that love is a state of being that i embody. i knew the deep mysteries of the universe and understood how it works. i knew why i am here. over time, and after conditioning in the human world, this knowledge faded-- but over time, it returned in full.

~ as a child, the most important thing in the world to me was nature. i would spend every possible moment outside playing, no matter where i was. i loved gardening in the spring, catching and caring for butterflies, dragonflies, ladybugs, and other insects, playing in the river, dancing in the rain. in the summer, i would spend all day outside, feeling the sun warm on my skin. the scent of most dirt and growing things takes me back to these times. in the fall i would collect the dropped leaves, go for long walks, and enjoy the final warmth of the year. in winter, i would play in the snow. i’d go for walks in the cold, each breath making me feel more alive. i knew how deeply connected i was with nature, and every moment in it was magical. it is the same today.

~ as a child, i was deeply connected to the animal kingdom. i enjoyed caring for my pets, and always asked my parents for more. i cared for dogs and fish, and would spend all day playing with them and watching them. i researched every type of animal and learned about their behavior and how to draw them. i loved going to zoos to see animals, but my favorite was seeing them in nature. i developed a passion for bird watching when i was very young. i collected books on bird species and would go outside with binoculars to search for them. i’d draw them and write stories about them. i would also observe insects. when one looks closely, they’ll find snails, ladybugs, beetles, walking sticks, dragonflies, all different types of butterflies, bees, and so much more. i would watch these and play with them all day. living close to nature, i would often see forest creatures like deer, elk, and squirrels. there were also farms nearby, so i got to observe horses, cows, and sheep. as a mermaid, it’s natural that i would spend as much time as possible in water. during the hours i would spend in the river, i would see fish swim by me and would touch them and hold them. fish were always friends to me, and i felt i could understand them on a deep level. it is the same today.

~ as a child, i felt a unique pull to the cosmos. my first memory in this life is one where my grandma took me outside as a baby to look at the moon. my fascination with the night sky only ever grew from that time on. i would go outside to watch the stars, and when i needed to be inside, i would look out the window. i collected books on astronomy and learned about all of the processes of the sky. i learned about the planets, constellations, and stars that could be seen with the naked eye. i would observe them every night, and my parents got me a telescope so that i could see them better. i understood the deep magic in the stars, and felt pulled to the deep mysteries of space. often i would dream of flying through space, faster than light, past all of the stars and planets into other galaxies. it is the same today. 

~ when i was about seven years old, i had a ufo experience. i was staying at my grandparents house, which was rural and one of my favorite places to look at the stars. i kept the blinds open at night so that i could see the moon and the stars. i had drifted off to sleep for hours, until i awoke suddenly in the early hours of the morning. my eyes opened, and i felt fear that i was being watched. i looked out the window immediately and saw lights in the sky that were unlike the stars or the moon. it was a cluster of lights that formed the shape of an upward facing crescent. i felt fear as i looked at it, knowing that this was something unusual. i immediately fell asleep. i don’t remember what happened next. when i woke up, there were four stars in place of the lights, following the same shape. i fell asleep again. when i woke up, there was the crescent moon in place of the stars. when i woke up the next morning, i noticed a faint purple birthmark on my neck-- four dots in the shape of a crescent. 

~ as a child, i felt at one with the moon. my first memory was looking at the moon. i often watched her, and would look out the window every night to see her. i’d look through my telescope and binoculars at the moon. i also drew many pictures and wrote poems. i knew that there was something very special about the moon that pulled me closer, but i didn’t understand exactly what it was. i would get excited for full moons, as if they were holidays, and would celebrate eclipses. i always made sure to view every eclipse, and they would fill me with the most magical feeling. one night, on a blue moon, i asked my dad if we could camp outside so i could sleep under the moon. we did, and i stared at the moon for the entire night. i loved the moon, and knew she was a friend of mine. it is the same today. 

~ as a child, i knew that i belonged in water. there were times that my family vacationed to the beach, and these were my favorite times. i fell in love with the ocean as soon as i saw her, and i never wanted to leave the sea. my parents would have to force me to get out of the water and come back inside. i would cry for the ocean when we returned home, and never missed anything quite as much. when home in the desert, i would swim in the river as much as possible. i would also take every opportunity to go to the pool. i taught myself to swim, and could spend hours in water. i never left it willingly. i loved taking baths and showers, and would stay inside until the water turned cold and i had to leave. it is the same today.

~ water has always been a source of renewal for me. when i am near water, and especially when i submerge myself in it, i feel reborn. i feel transformed, as though everything has been washed away and i am new again. water is tranquil, and fills my entire body with peace. i feel connected to the entire universe when i am in water, and am reminded of the deep love between me and all that is.

~ as a child, i could feel the presence of spirits. i knew first about fairies, and would always seek to connect with them. i had a fairy book that taught me about their connection to nature, so i would leave offerings for them outside in natural settings. i would also build homes for them inside filled with natural materials and things i had made for them. i soon learned about the presence of ghosts. they always unsettled me. maybe it was because i often felt their presence when i was alone. it is the same today.

~ as a child, i dreamed dreams deeper than the sea itself. dreams occurred when i was sleeping and when i was awake, and i could see a vast universe full of my desires. i knew that the world was limitless, and i could do anything. i wanted to heal everyone and everything, and fix all of the problems in the world. i wanted to go everywhere and do everything, and have every possible experience. i understood how big the world is and i wanted to immerse myself in the beauty of life. every moment is filled with magic, and i am blessed to behold each and every one of them. it is the same today.

~ as a child, i knew that i was a mermaid. even before i knew the word, i knew there was something different about me. i had incredibly vivid memories and experiences from distant places. i felt a greater love than has been experienced in centuries on earth. and i feel the same way today. i know that i am from somewhere else, and i have a unique purpose here on earth. i’m thankful to be here and to have the experiences i have had. when i was first born and during early childhood, i was still completely united with the universe. over time, even though i knew the truth, i drifted away and faced much tragedy and hardship. the pains that i experienced over the years allowed me a deeper understanding of and greater empathy with every being on earth. now, the pain is subsiding and i am fully remembering who i am. i am here to heal. i am here to love. i was as a child, and it is the same today.

Next Right Action That Help The Zodiac Signs Progress On Their Paths

Aries:  Rescue – “Asking for help isn’t easy for many successful people. However, that’s what you need to do now as you expand your life. If you find yourself troubled, you can expect help with whatever issue is at hand now. You need only ask, and assistance will come your way. The most important support you can expect is from Spirit. Get into a right relationship with the Divine and you’ll see that many conditions line up as if by magic to provide you with all the help you need. Ask and you will receive. There is no need to fear. Safety is a place within.”

Taurus:  Cleaning House – “Why do you hold on to things that remind you of the past? Is your home cluttered with objects that bring up unhappy memories? Do you have a tendency to attract broken people who need to be fixed? If you’re involved in this type of emotional project, stop right now and “clean house.” Being needed isn’t going to get you what you really need. That said, even if you initially resist letting go of excess physical or emotional baggage, you’ll feel amazing afterward. Let go, and let the universe bring you something better. The universe doesn’t like a vacuum and will respond to your housecleaning by filling your home with what will best serve you.”

Gemini:  Flying – “If you were a bird flying high in the air, what would you see? When you soar above life’s challenges and opportunities, a new perspective becomes available. Today you have invisible wings that allow you to swiftly bring your circumstances into alignment with your highest purpose. This is a sign that your waiting is over, that all your hard work has paid off and the things you hoped for are no longer beyond your scope. You have the ability to reach for the stars and find one with your name on it. Spread your wings and soar.”

Cancer:  Deep Freeze – “Nothing you can do right now will amount to anything substantial no matter how much you try, push, manipulate, or cajole. Life wants you to take a break. You need to do this now, lest you become exhausted and be forced to rest. What you need will be there for you when you emerge in the springtime. For now, winter has its own ideas for you. Wait for signs of spring.”

Leo:  Wide Open – “All manner of opportunities are presented to you at this time. The wide open card is a signal that you’re able to truly manifest your dreams and that your goals are in sight. Don’t remain small and contracted. Instead, expand your horizons beyond what you believe to be your limitations. You have a unique voice that needs to be expressed in the world. The universe is supportive of new ideas and approaches at this time, so speak up and out.”

Virgo:  Come together – When the come together card appears reversed, it is a sign that perhaps a love connection is unbalanced. Is intimacy being withheld from you, or are you withholding it from another? Longing and yearning are often mistaken for love—when in fact they are signs of lack. Perhaps you’ve been doing all the emotional work and pouring your water into an empty well, to the point that now you are also depleted. Know this: true love will not be denied you. What is truly for you will never walk past you or require this much energy. True love will allow ways find its reflection in another.”

Libra:  Field of dreams – “This is the perfect time to harness the field of vast potential not yet realized in your life. Great abundance is yours if you’re willing to do the work alongside the Gentle Gardener. Be clear about your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. Concentrate on your best life regardless of the temporary outer conditions imposed upon you by the greater world, which has its own story to tell. You have a basket full of seeds that are quite powerful, for your talents are Divinely inspired and will indeed lead to great harvest to be shared with others. You will reap what you have sown. Dream big, dream beautiful, take action, and tend to the garden of your life….and experience the extraordinary.”

Scorpio: The magical map shifter – “This card may bring you the opposite of what you seek. Perhaps you’re in denial about your situation and refuse to see the truth. Or maybe you’ve been traveling down a path that has constantly led you to a field of poppies, where you fall asleep and dream of desires that never find their form. To have the life you really want, you must match its vibrational energy and resonate with it. Sometimes our greatest hurts and disappointments are what awaken us to our need to shift to a higher frequency.”

Sagittarius: Spark – “Sometimes your fire gets doused by other who don’t want you to be all that you can be. In that case, you need to move away from the “water,” lest things get too damp. The spark card in the reverse may indicate that you’re allowing yourself to be so consumed by a thought, feeling, or situation that you’re in danger of becoming completely burned-out. Compulsion and impulsiveness must be tempered now. Rest by a warm fire. Let things die down a bit. Then you’ll see if the true spark will still be there. If not, you can always light another fire at another time.”  

Capricorn: Home – “Peace, security, safety, belonging, and all the features one would want from “home” are indicated now. The home card represents an invitation to experience what it’s like to be secure in your own skin, to live comfortably no matter what is happening in the world around you. It is time for opening your eyes to your tribe of like-minded people, or one special person who makes you feel like you’ve come. Home is love, and love is all around you now. Whatever your inquiry, you are where you’re meant to be and will reap great benefits by staying on this path regardless of where it leads. Home will always be with you—it is where the heart is.”

Aquarius: Goblins – “Goblins are born when you’re wounded and something essential is lost in that experience. From that point on, as you forget your wholeness, they remain with you in the shadows. There, they remind you of what brought them into being, by mimicking your own voice, tricking you into believing that you’re unworthy, victimized, or unlovable. They hold you hostage through self-worth, self-sabotage, and the feeling that you’re lacking what you need. If goblins pay you a visit, know that they represent the shadow of your own self, or someone else’s, and they’re leading you into a potentially reactive situation. A goblins card appearance is an opportunity for growth, however, and a signal that you must love yourself. No human is without flaws. You must release resentments and negative self-talk. Miracles can happen. Let go of negativity.

Pisces: Gentle Gardner – “The gentle gardener is visiting you at this moment in your life to remind you that your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs create the reality you experience. She is the embodiment of the energy within you that is sent into the field of co-creation and ensures that all that you are is reflected in the world of form. Are you aware of your thoughts? What is their quality? Believe in limitless possibility and you will see miracles unfold. The gentle gardener guarantees the integrity of everything you send out into the world. Stay positive and expect a wondrous return. Your garden is abundant with beauty.”

{Rose-Oracles}

LANA DEL REY - THE GREATEST

[7.71]

The discourse is lit...

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Lana Del Rey's embrace of decades-old American culture has always been a window into the present, so it's no surprise that her invocations of rock music and Dennis Wilson's deaths on "The Greatest" are signposts for our own inevitable demise. But even before she concludes the song with ruminations on California wildfires, Hawaii's false missile alert, and the possible necessity of colonizing Mars, you can sense the knowing dread in the midsong guitar solo and her affected vocalizing. She declares that she's "wasted" with poise and romantic longing, stretching the word out into a rallying cry; she intimates that debauchery is not just an expected response to contemporary anxieties, but an empowering action in times of seeming powerlessness. She channels that same depressing spirit in her semi-ironic delivery of the song's most memorable couplet -- "The culture is lit and I had a ball/I guess that I'm burned out after all" -- toying with its dual meaning to succinctly portray how escapism in end times isn't indecent behavior, but a necessary means toward survival and acceptance of one's fate. The sparse guitar strums and piano melodies that close out the song anticipate the somber eventuality that awaits us, but can that be much worse than right now? Worse than a time when "dancing with you" and "doing nothing" can be nostalgic pastimes due to never ending stress? Whatever the case, we'll collectively watch as it happens; it's the "live stream" that Lana hints at in the final line, and it'll be of cinematic proportions: "the greatest loss of them all." [9]

Joshua Copperman: "The culture is lit, and if this is it‚ I had a ball." This line is everything I hate about the aesthetics of this decade, but it IS the aesthetic of this decade, at least the latter half. Apart from rare, usually unintentional exceptions, something about 2010s voice-of-a-generation songs always felt pat, apparently because they had hope. We need songs for an age when everything is so overwhelming and impossible that there's nothing left to do but give up, give in, and bide your time until the flames -- the literal ones or the David Foster Wallace ones -- consume you too. (Who by fire, who by water vapor.) The cool, detached gloominess of "The Greatest" sends the opposite message to the one producer Jack Antonoff sent years ago; I don't want to get better, because there's no time left and no point. Lana was "doing nothing most of all," and that's why she's become the figurehead for this decade's music. Not Gaga. Not Beyonce. Not Lorde. Lana. Lana won the race to the bottom because she was there first; maybe a writer once took her sadness out of context, yet if someone said "I wish I was dead already" today, the response would not rise beyond a shrug of 'mood.' I don't even like this song that much as a song. It's slow and dreary, and that "culture is lit" line sounds hackneyed and pandering in its own way. But it's because of that artificiality that the line feels authentic, which was Lana's whole thing in the first place. Maybe I'm just bitter that she became so important when I wasn't looking. To paraphrase another, equally 2019 line, I hate to see it. Especially when I was so blind the whole time. [7]

Josh Buck: "I miss New York, and I Miss you. Me and my friends, we miss rock and roll." As Lana del Rey laments her Big Apple days, it feels like a lifetime since she was a Brooklyn Baby, singing Lou Reed with her boyfriend's band. She ventured out west to create an entire California fantasia and over a handful of albums, she built a cinematic version of the Golden State that was vibrant and full of endless sun and limitless romantic possibilities; even if it was all tinged with just a dab of noir-ish danger. It was a world as fully realized and teeming with mythology as a great novel. And "The Greatest" is where she watches it all burn down. "I'm facing the greatest loss of them all." California dreams are beautiful, until you have to wake up, so she sparks a cigarette and raises a glass to the ride. But if "The Greatest" is a moment of personal reflection, it's also a celebration. It's a toast to a new Greatest Generation. A generation that created and protested, that fucked and traveled and loved in spite of a planet threatening to burn them alive, and world leaders determined to end things even quicker. It's an anthem for thriving in the face of the apocalypse. It's my favorite single of 2019, and just thinking about it triggers a million competing emotions. If all somehow make it through this moment, we'll have one hell of a story, and a hell of a song to go with it. The culture is lit, but we had a ball. [10]

Michael Hong: A couple of cycles ago, that line probably would have drawn mass scorn from critics, but for now, it may very well be the lyric of the year. Part of that may be attributed to the way the culture has shifted their view on Lana Del Rey, but another part of it is that Lana sounds the most honest she's ever sounded. "The Greatest" is an ominous but sincere reflection of the current state of the world, and Lana no longer seems content with empty depictions of American touchstones. Lines like "I miss New York and I miss the music" still rely on those same symbols, but they now feel like lived experiences rather than empty nostalgic musings. Hell, Lana Del Rey even manages not only to make "me and my friends, we miss rock 'n' roll" work but sound like one of the most profound statements you've ever heard. Lana Del Rey's hushed vocals paired with the gauzy instrumental are quietly disarming, playing out like the cinematic zoom-out at the edge of the apocalypse. And if this is it, those final laments on the outro might be the greatest way to go out. [9]

Alfred Soto: She's not the greatest, nor does she think she's the greatest, so long as she thinks the "culture is lit" and she's "having a ball," whatever that means, but I suspect it means more than the guitar solo. Narcissism as plaint. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: The core Lana Del Rey problem is that she confuses narcotic with dramatic and droning with sweeping. "The Greatest" mitigates those faults a little, but only a little, and only by borrowing some faults from classic rock. The track also smothers what could have been a fine torch song in overproduction -- the culture can't be lit if you snuff it out with a million moles of echo. It shouldn't happen that I felt more genuine things about ghosts and missing things from a perfume newsletter than this. [4]

Ian Mathers: So here's the thing; I originally wrote about and scored this song before the more exhausting parts of the whole Lana Del Rey Conversation that engulfed Music Twitter last week had happened, and I was basically saying, yeah, the conversation is interesting and has some good points but I mostly receive the song outside of it and I just like that song (and generally do, with her singles). But then... it got worse. And between the artist herself showing her ass and all of the assorted takes, the thought of listening to any of LDR's music just got more and more enervating. Some would say it's unfair or incorrect to adjust my opinion of this song, or at least to admit that those events have, in fact, adjusted my opinion of the song. But I'm a guy who wrote a Master's thesis at least partly on the idea that the context around a work of art justifiably changes not only our aesthetic relationship to it but the ontological status of the work of art itself (which is not a physical thing, not even as data). The classical example is finding out, say, a painting is a forgery, but honestly this whole thing is a great example too. Doesn't make me outright dislike "The Greatest", but does legitimately move it from being a real bright spot to a song I enjoy that I need a bit of a break from. [7]

Stephen Eisermann: Hats off to Lana and Jack for really creating an atmosphere of nostalgia that you fall into the second you hit play. Lana's vocal is tender and understated, further reinforcing the sense of longing the track aims to create; but, hearing her sing the word "lit" and the Kanye West reference stand in stark contrast to that moody guitar lick and I... I just can't reconcile the two. [4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Lana Del Rey is deeply aware of the fickleness of the music industry. On Born to Die, that manifested in her almost-trolling approach -- aggravating, almost-rap cadences, weird production choices, even weirder lyrical ones -- that wormed its way into the pop consciousness. For her middle three albums, she refashioned herself as a thinking person's pop star, working with more respectable (and more male) figures like Dan Aurebach and A$AP Rocky as a way of positioning herself as adjacent to prestige. The music was better but also more boring. Now, with Norman Fucking Rockwell!, she has cashed all the checks that a decade of practice and following the rules of pop earn you. "The Greatest" is a thesis statement for the album's ambition. It's not just the title -- although that is a helpful indicator. It's everything: the classic rock guitars and big drum fills, the nostalgia for doing nothing of the lyrics, the way she sings them. On "The Greatest," Lana sounds done. Not exhausted, but complete, as if she could walk away from this all and not miss a second's worth of sleep. It's a big damn classic rock song that's aware of how bombastic it sounds, and yet its self-awareness does not undercut its narrative and sonic heft. It's the kind of song you can't make without making a lot of worse songs that dance around the same topics. But here, where it really counts? Lana nails it. It's a buzzer-beater of a song, rattling around the rim four times before falling in -- all the sweeter in glory for the bumps on the road before it. It's likely not the last Lana Del Rey single we'll review, but if it is, it's a fitting send-off: in response to all the fickleness of the industry, Lana rewrites her story on her own terms, and makes it sing. [9]

Jackie Powell: Norman Fucking Rockwell started as such a fascinating paradox, but didn't really continue building and evolving on what made its first third so successful. "The Greatest" is lyrically relatable and sonically beautiful. Jack Antonoff, being the wizard that he is, finds a way to wean Lana Del Rey of her noir and whining tendencies. He overdubs her potential for a beautiful vocal pairing it with brighter arrangements. It's pellucid and mellow but not a snoozefest. But its placement on this album really sold the track short. NFR loaded its most compelling tracks at the top of the project. Del Rey placed "The Greatest" after "Fuck it I love you" in a double feature of a music video, which where it should have been placed on the album. In the visual, Del Rey floats around and almost above her surroundings contemplating what's next. The haunting but gorgeously comforting guitar solo brings the listener along with Lana herself back down to earth. Lyrically and through its soft piano, the outro is what gives this song its weight and a sense of profundity. Her cultural references which include Kanye West's physical and emotional transformation and David Bowie's "Life on Mars" allow us to reflect on what we've become. Lana Del Rey does that here and on almost every record. I just wish "The Greatest" was given the proper stage to achieve the status of its moniker. [6]

Joshua Lu: The majority of "The Greatest" feels unbound by time, as Lana Del Rey reuses Extremely American words that apply to the '80s as much as today: Long Beach, New York, the Beach Boys, rock 'n' roll. Only the outro plants the song firmly in the current year -- with mentions of Mars, Kanye, global warming, and that time Hawaii thought it was about to get bombed -- and with this passage of time, these signifiers bring no joy to Lana anymore. Her sprawling sense of nihilism seeps through in her languid voice and the turgid, psychedelic guitar as she laments how her generation's time is ticking away. Tempting as it is, I'm wary to read into this song as some kind of political statement, in part because the epochs that Lana fetishizes were also rather shitty, and also because I think Lana herself wouldn't prefer this reading, as it would play into that "p" word she, erm, has expressed adversity to. Maybe that's the song's trap, that despite how alluring it is to try to ascribe some deeper meaning, it's better to just do what the song does: sit back, observe, and mourn. [8]

Alex Clifton: Lana Del Rey has a beautiful and occasionally overwhelming voice. It's haunting but for me it can be like ingesting too much cake in one sitting -- extremely rich to the point where it feels exhausting to listen to more than one song at a time. Having said that, "The Greatest" is a song that works well with Del Rey's vocals. When the first pre-chorus hits -- "those nights were on fire, we couldn't get higher" -- her breathiness feels less like an affect but sadder and more wistful, the awareness that she'll never be able to get that life back again. It's a grandiose song, strings and languid piano and a chorus of a dozen Lanas sighing "if this is it, I'm signing off," but for once the grandiosity of the production fits the message. My issue with Del Rey's persona back in the Born to Die days was that I couldn't quite make out who she was under all the artifice, flower crowns and American flags. I know that's the appeal of artists like Del Rey, whose entire careers are built off of specific personas (despite what they claim to the contrary), but I don't deal well with facades that are built that tall. Arguments about personas and performativity in music can quickly dissolve into arguments about authenticity and how much that matters to the music, and I want to stress that I don't care about authenticity in the slightest -- I just like the moments where artists aren't invincible but human. In "The Greatest" those walls crumble down and Del Rey revels in her sadness in a way that hits close to the heart. She's vulnerable and mourning over a real love rather than a fantasy, and for once I feel like persona or no, I understand the appeal of Lana Del Rey. [8]

Vikram Joseph: At 2am this morning I found myself in the smoky bedroom of a guy I hadn't met until two hours earlier, half a bottle of red wine deep and still high off the fumes of the MUNA show I'd just been to, discussing the aesthetics of Lana Del Rey's music videos (as a kind of emotional foreplay, I guess?). It struck me that this, right there, was actually a pretty good representation of Lana's aesthetic -- unlikely moments that shimmer at the fringes of reality, a doomed romanticism that bleeds into a laconic, blissful sort of nihilism. There's so much heightened emotion (close to melodrama) in her music, and yet there's a simplicity too in what she craves -- men, bars, California, sun -- that Vice described as a "revolutionary pleasure." It feels like an extremely LDR move to draw a direct parallel between lost love and the end of the actual fucking world, but it's testament to her songwriting, those aesthetics that she's worked so hard on, and the spellbinding, crystalline production on "The Greatest" that she pulls it off so completely. From the opening bars -- dignified piano chords, soft-focus acoustic guitars and cinematic strings -- it feels like an elegy; I can't help but see the crumbling, sunlit edifice of a gorgeous building when I hear this song, especially during that billowing, washed-out guitar solo, or the slow nuclear decay of the outro. "The Greatest" feels like a culmination, and a kind of closure. It's a veteran of an iconic club scene reading the memoirs of her golden years out loud, or the last time two people who once loved each other ever speak, or a beach scene at the end of civilisation. Sonically and aesthetically, it sounds cast adrift in time, and that's why it's so effective. It's the end of the world as we know it -- I don't think Lana feels fine, exactly, but maybe there's a certain comfort in finally knowing for sure that it was all for nothing. [10]

Will Adams: Lana Del Rey made a career writing elegies to American culture, which is what makes "The Greatest" as moving as it is heartbreaking. The patriotism of "American" has turned bitter. The sprawling luxury of "Shades of Cool" has fizzled. The worries expressed in "Coachella -- Woodstock In My Mind" have been realized in twisted, terrifying ways. So it makes sense that, after a few minutes of misty-eyed farewells presented with a smile ("I had a ball"), it all collapses to rubble. The gleaming classic rock evaporates into three descending chords. This, it turns out, is the greatest loss of all. Not rock 'n' roll, not a past lover, not Long Beach, not Kanye West, but everything. In that final minute, the song sinks to the ocean floor, the flaming city fading from view, the monuments and culture blurring into nothing. Del Rey is gone, too, as there's nothing left to say. There is nothing except the brutal end. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

I’m doing a #mystic#sprituality #tarot #astrology#workshop #discussion #networkingevent with a couple of fabulous ladies at #femmefataledc! Come join us, #CapitalCovenFFDC on June 24th and July 16 and we will explore the limitless potentials of our #psycheand support each other in #spiritualdevelopment. The first workshop will be on #astrology, lead by @goddessglassart on June 24th 7 to 9 pm and the second workshop will be about #tarotcards, lead by @girlsprouts on July 16th 7 to 9 pm. This is a monthly #meetup, open for all genders: everyone with an open heart is welcome and each month we will share our knowledge on different other-worldly topics! #washingtondc #witchystuff #magic#energy

Date and Time

June 24th Monday 7 to 9 pm

July 16th Tuesday 7 to 9 pm

Location

Femme Fatale DC

3224 11th Street Northwest

Washington, DC 20010

Capital Coven presents: Lunar Enlightenment Series Capital Coven is a community of kindred spirits interested in the other-worldly and who support each other in spiritual development. The only rules to join are to be open-minded to exploring the Great Mystery together. We meet monthly to create together, build deeper connections and to learn a little bit more about topics of interest, including but not limited to: spirituality, energy, healing, sacred geometry, earth-based wisdom, crystals, tarot, astrology, shamanism, etc. We aim to deepen our connections to our own intuition and explore tools to help us do that. If you are seeking a supportive community grounded in soul-work, please join us! We meet monthly on potent lunar days when possible, to activate our intentions. Come as you are, as we are all learners on this path. Participants will receive a Capital Coven journal upon joining the community ($20) which they can decorate on their own. Journals will be used to track our insights, notes and other details during and after gatherings. If you are not interested in joining, please still bring a journal of your own to any event you attend. The Lunar Enlightenment Series is the name for our monthly meetups centered on collective learning and creating in a magical space together. We look forward to enlightening our lives in a safe container with you! Lunar Enlightenment Series Calendar 1. June 24: Astrocharting Eliza of Goddess Glass Art will take you on a journey to discover your rising and moon signs in addition to your sun’s signs meaning. Participants will then break out into groups to work through how the placement of their planets are influenced by the astrological sign they are in. You will be provided with practical tools on how to use this information to help understand and navigate everyday challenges. Participants will create and astrology-themed piece of art personalized for their own sun/moon/ascendant signs to empower you on your astrology journey. Please come prepared with the place and time of your birthday.****2. July 16: Beginner’s Tarot (Buck Moon)In this session you will learn tarot basics and discover the history and underlying themes behind this wonderful deck. Emily of Woven Psyche will be presenting on a special tarot topic and Cait from Girl Sprouts will provide tarot 101 and ideas on how to get started on your own. Each participant will choose a card for this full moon and learn a bit more about the themes and how they might apply to their own life. Participants will then create an art piece with a card they have pulled for the night and gain tips for using the card’s guidance during this full moon cycle. The last half hour will be a tarot exchange, so bring your own deck if you have one for practice! About the organizers Cait Newcamp of Girl Sprouts Cait (she/her) is the owner of Girl Sprouts, a plant-based body care company grounded in feminine wisdom and honoring the cycles of womxn. Girl Sprouts was planted as a way to shift the story around menstruation, connecting girls and womxn to their bodies and the earth and to celebrate the beautiful rite of passage into womxnhood. Her formal training is in biology and chemistry which informs her recipes for healthy, safe and practical creations to love on your body. Cait believes that the intuitive mind is as important as the rational mind, and that our individual connection to this sacred gift is necessary to restore a healthier planet. Therefore, part of her healing path, largely stemming from her own mental health struggles has been in re-connection. Cait is an empath, a reiki level II practitioner, tarot card reader, science communicator and public health professional. Inner and outer balance informs her life choices and nature is where she finds home. Cait loves experimenting in art, writing, riding bikes and learning from others (especially plants and children). Robin Ha Robin Ha is the author and the illustrator for Cook Korean!: A Comic Book With Recipes, a New York Times bestseller cookbook graphic novel. She was born in South Korea and moved to the United States when she was fourteen. After graduating from RISD, I've been working as a freelance cartoonist and an illustrator in NY and Washington DC. She is currently working on a memoir graphic novel, Almost American Girl which is about her immigration experience from Seoul, Korea to Huntsville, Alabama. Almost American Girl is scheduled to come out in January 2020, published by Balzer + Bray, an imprint of Harper Collins. Robin's mission as an artist is to share her cultural and personal experiences through comics. Aside from drawing comics, she has been giving numerous talks and cooking demos to share her knowledge and love for Korean food culture around the United States. As much as she loves to draw, she loves to eat. Her plan is to travel to new places around the world and taste their food and draw comics about them. There is really no food that she wouldn't try at least once in her life. She doesn't have a sweet tooth though. She always goes for bacon over baked goods. For more info on Robin Ha, please visit her website: https://robinha81.wixsite.com/robinha Eliza Derick of Goddess Glass Art Eliza Derick is a teacher, artist, and astrology enthusiast based in Washington DC.  She is the founder of Goddess Glass Art and Astrological Empowerment with Eliza, both endeavors based out of Femme Fatale DC.  Eliza has studied astrology for 20 years and loves sharing with others the secrets of stars for gaining a deeper insight into a journey of self-discovery.   In addition to, stained glass art and astrology, Eliza has held a lifelong passion for the stage and performing arts. She trained and performed for a decade with Sahara Dance, a DC-based Middle Eastern dance troupe. A camp counselor at her core, she taught visual arts, yoga, and dance at Fillmore Arts Center for 8 summers. Eliza has recently partnered with Bloombars to offer Wild Things Yoga family performance workshops borne out of her love of integrating movement and creative expression with children’s literature.

For more info please visit: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/capital-coven-presents-lunar-enlightenment-series-tickets-63386406448

Clarence

Word Count: 1114 Characters: Clarence!Cas x Reader Warnings: Fluff…though kinda bittersweet Requested by: My Panda Friend @impandagrl :)

A/N: This was written for my Merry Manda’s Panda Presents celebration. This was beta’d by @hannahindie and @wheresthekillswitch. Pretend that the Angels fell and Cas lost his Grace close to Christmas. 😊

Masterlist

x

Clarence

“I don’t know about you, but I never trusted a man who thought wearing red head to toe was a good idea.”

I see the man beside me smile from the corner of my eye. He coughs, and nods.

“It was always the giant toy sack, for me,” his voice is low, with a rough, rich texture to it. His lips draw together in a cross between a pucker and purse and he crosses his arms over his chest. He tips his head to one side.

I cock an eyebrow and turn to him. “You’re right. It does seem to be a little on the nefarious side of things.” He’s a beautiful man, though it appears his life has recently taken some turns, by the dirty clothes, greasy hair and handful of cuts on his face.

He gestures to the next shop window, and we meander toward it. Our breaths form silvery, crystallized halos in the dark, cold night air. He hugs his tattered, nearly threadbare jacket tighter around himself.

“This one is my favorite,” he studies the scene behind the thin pane of glass. A sheet of brown Kraft Paper serves as the backdrop, a crudely drawn fireplace sketched in the middle. Books had been piled up in two neat stacks on either side, their shapes deliberately made to resemble trees. Ropes of clear Christmas lights were wound neatly around the book trees and there was a shining, silver star perched on the top of each stack. Glittery, multicolored ornaments suspend  in mid air at different heights from delicate, clear wire attached to the ceiling.

I sneak a glance at his face while he’s distracted. The warm glow of the lights make his eyes sparkle like sapphires in sunlight. His smile is wide and pure, as though he’s never experienced a more magical sight than this.

“Humans,” he mumbles, “They are just so creative. I never tire of their limitless imaginations.”

“I like how you talk about humans like you’re not one,” I chuckle. As though someone had flipped a switched, his face fell, the enchantment that had just made his eyes dance all but extinguished. My stomach churns with guilt as he drops his gaze to his feet. “Hey, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

“No, please,” he feigns a smile. “It’s ok. Just easy to forget sometimes.”

That was either an incredible existential comment on the human condition, or the guy is looney tunes. Either way, I like him.

“What’s your name?” I tip my head toward the next window and he follows.

“Clarence.”

There’s a smile playing just outside the corner of his lips, like he’s recalling some long forgotten memory.

“Nice to meet you, Clarence. I’m y/n,” I reach a mittened hand toward him and he shakes it, somewhat bemused.

“Likewise.” He nods. I shove my hands back into the pockets of my parka. We turn to study the new scene. Here, there’s a mound of presents of every shape and size, all of them wrapped in the same red wrapping paper with matching bows and ribbons. Two stuffed polar bears donning plaid scarves stand in one corner and there’s a small easel with a sign that reads “Merry Everything.”

“Clarence. Like ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?”

He looks at me like I’ve sprouted a second head, his eyes narrowing and his head tilting to one side.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what that means.” He continues to stare at me blankly. “How can your name be Clarence and you’ve never heard of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’? You know ‘Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.’”

“I am afraid I don’t know what you are talking about,” he turns back to the display, but I can tell he’s not really looking at it.

“It’s a movie. A Christmas movie, actually. A man named George Bailey had a rough life. Everything seems to go wrong and he decides he and his family are better off with him gone, so he goes to this bridge to kill himself, but he meets an angel named Clarence.”

At this, his head snaps to look at me, his gaze an unsettling weight. “What happens next?”

I swallow, my mouth suddenly feeling like sandpaper, though I’m not sure why.

“Well, George tells Clarence he wishes he’d never been born, so he shows him what things would be like for the people he loves if he didn’t exist.”

Clarence is silent for a moment and I follow him as he heads to the next display. This one is small and simple. Dozens of hand cut snowflakes are plastered across a blue backdrop and a cluster of small, bottlebrush trees are placed in the center. Two mannequins on each side of the trees display children’s holiday attire.

“And this George, was he right? Were his family members better without him in their lives?”

“Not even remotely,” I turn to him and decide to go for it. “Look, I don’t know anything about you Clarence and obviously you don’t know me from Adam.” He studies me again, his nose and cheeks pink from the cold. “But, whatever happened that put you out here in the street at midnight the week before Christmas? There’s someone out there that needs you in their life. You have a purpose and whatever happened…well, even if it can’t be undone, it’s in the past, ya know?” I shake my head and look down, laughing. “Sorry, I don’t even know what that means or where that came from. Don’t mind me.”

He places a tentative hand on my shoulder and I look up at him, his blue eyes wide and full of light. He smiles, his lips parting to reveal a white toothed smile that makes my heart jump.

“Thank you,” his voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the stillness. “I needed to hear that.”

I lean up and place a kiss on his stubbled cheek and he blushes. “Can I buy you dinner, Clarence? Maybe find you a place to sleep for the night?”

“I would like that very much.”

We turn and and walk in comfortable silence as I direct us toward a 24 hour diner a few blocks away. The fluorescent lights are a harsh contrast to the darkness we’ve grown accustomed to and a bell chimes as Clarence swings the door open, motioning for me to walk in first. A plump waitress in a faded blue dress greets us with fresh, hot coffee as we take a seat at the empty counter.

Clarence picks up his cup, warming his hands on the sides. He turns to me.

“So, tell me more about these bells.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all: @wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67  @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m  @easelweasel @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @sylverminx @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-my-perky-nipples @squirrel-moose-winchester @carryonmyswansong @sandlee44

Christmas Tags: @sillesworldofwriting

Looking to The Future of the DC Universe

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The beauty of telling stories in a multiverse is the infinite possibility offered by the infinite places and infinite times to set those stories in. DC’s embrace of their multiverse has historically been one of its strongest features, but Crisis on Infinite Earths muted that ability for decades after, and only recently have comics creators started to enthusiastically dive into the concept again. And with Dark Nights: Death Metal wailing towards its conclusion, it looks like DC is set to go head first into the Bleed again.

Future State is the next big DC Comics event. Following the conclusion of Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s explosive reintroduction of the infinite multiverse-slash-musing on what might happen if we let evil get a couple of high profile wins in (gee no real world analogue to that story at all no sir), the entire DC line will be taking a pause for two months, while a variety of creative teams jump forward in the DC Universe’s timeline to tell stories about what that future might look like.

The Future State: Justice League titles include three minis with two stories in each issue, and five one shots or character-focused series. They have a mix of long time DC creators and some new faces, all of them trying to do some new things. The titles include:

Future State: Justice League #1-2

Justice League, by Joshua Williamson and Robson Rocha

Justice League Dark, by Ram V. and Marcio Takara

Future State: Green Lantern #1-2

Last Lanterns, by Geoffrey Thorne and Tom Raney

Tales of the Green Lantern Corps, by Josie Campbell, Ryan Cady and Ernie Altbacker, with Sami Basri and Clayton Henry

Future State: Suicide Squad #1-2

Suicide Squad, by Robbie Thompson and Javi Fernandez

Black Adam, by Jeremy Adams and Fernando Pasarin

Future State: Aquaman, by Brandon Thomas and Daniel Sampere

Future State: The Flash, by Brandon Vietti and Dale Eaglesham

Future State: Teen Titans, by Tim Sheridan and Rafa Sandoval

Future State: SHAZAM!, by Tim Sheridan and Eduardo Pansica

Future State: Swamp Thing, by Ram V. and Mike Perkins

We had a chance to talk with Justice League group editor Alex Carr about that future: a broken speed force, a drained central power battery, magic being harvested, and…Red X!

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.

CHANGE IS COMING TO THE DCU

Den of Geek: Walk us through Future State and the Justice League books. What were your marching orders for the creative teams? What got you excited at the beginning point of this event?

Alex Carr: Well, I don’t want to spoil anything for Death Metal. I can tell you that the events of Death Metal will leave the door open for a variety of really, really cool stories for us to tell beginning in 2021. Future State is one of those.

When we think about Future State, one of the things that I really got excited about was I looked at the Justice League’s list of titles and our list of heroes, and when we think about the Justice League, we cover such a wide breadth of heroes, of settings, of villains, of power sets, that when I started to consider what does the future mean for all of these characters? It just simply opened up because I thought, “We can tell stories in the near future, we can tell stories in the middle future, and then we can tell stories in the far, far future,” because we have characters who play to all of those time periods and all those possibilities.

Not just time as an element to get excited about, but then I thought, “We’re in the far future, where anything can happen, where storytelling possibilities are limitless,” so too does that mean approaches to our characters. While we don’t have a central hub as a setting, or even a central time period where all of our stories take place, what we did want to get across, through all the editors in our group, was a thread of change. That thread carries through, not just our heroes, but also again, their power sets, the way they approach villains, the villains that they interact with.

If we’re talking about new heroes, that’s a huge change. Then if we’re talking about classic heroes, what’s a new mission statement that we can give to a hero? What’s a new setting we can put this hero in? What’s a new perspective that this hero can have that will really give readers a reason to open up these books, and then secondly, to get excited about the stories that are unfolding therein?

Death Metal is, in its own way, dark and reflective of the times that we live in. From a 30,000 foot perspective, it’s a story about the anxiety of living through the world that we’re living through right now. Is Future State going to carry some of those themes forward, or is it going to be more of using the inherent hopefulness of the DC Universe and the DC characters to try and reflect something back onto the world?

First of all, I do want to say that while I agree with your assessment of Death Metal as it reads right now during our conversation, I want to make sure that we aren’t putting it in a box too tightly, because I think you’re going to be really surprised by where Death Metal goes and the way in which it’s perspective may change. I agree with the way you’ve assessed it right here and now. But I think by the time we get to the end, you’re going to be really surprised. Future State carries through both of those. Yes, I’m giving you an easy answer here in that you bet, when we look in the future, it’s easy to go dystopian, and it’s also really fun to do that too.

In Justice League Dark, for example, we’ve got a futuristic witch hunt going on where the Justice League Dark team are being chased because magic has become a commodity that is to be harvested. Who better to harvest than some of the greatest magic users in the DCU? In that regard, yes, we do see a dark future there for our heroes, but there are also plenty of stories in Future State, in the Justice League, in the supergroup, in the back group that will reflect different approaches to future possibilities.

Aquaman

Case in point, Aquaman for our group, really fun writer, Brandon Thomas, and editor, Andrea Shea, approached it specifically not to be a dystopian story. We get to see Jackson Hyde, who is coming off a two-issue arc in Aquaman by writer, Jordan Clark, really take a spotlight here along with Andy Curry, the daughter of Arthur and Mera. She comes into her own here as well. Again, we’re building on something that Kelly Sue DeConnick established in her fantastic Aquaman run, the birth of Andy, which is really one of the first babies to be born in the DCU in I don’t know how long.

We took that element of story that we all loved, and here we age up Andy in Future State, and you get to see her adventure with Jackson Hyde, again, a great character that we’re excited about spotlighting. Their story is full of drama and certainly danger, but it’s also got a really fresh perspective, a positive perspective on futuristic storytelling.

The Storytelling Freedom of Future State

You’ve got an interesting mix of some DC old hands like Josh Williamson and Javier Fernandez, you’ve got some fresh faces like Geoff Thorne and Josie Campbell. What were some of the challenges to assembling a team from all of these different backgrounds with DC into hammering them into an event like this?

Well thankfully, I didn’t have to hammer too hard. As soon as we talked about, “Hey, would you like to tell a story set in the future with some of your favorite heroes?” People were really, really excited and I started getting proposals right away.

Where there were challenges, it was getting writers to think very freely. I think all too often, we get really concerned about continuity, but one of the benefits of futuristic storytelling is that we can go wild here. Anything can happen from here to the year 5,000, so let’s find the best story to tell first and then we’ll figure out where it fits into a timeline and we can go from there. But let’s not worry too much about what [a] character’s boot colors will be in the year 2400. Instead, let’s figure out what are some great challenges and what are the goals? What do we want out of these stories and how are we going to ensure that readers feel like they got their money’s worth out of it before we go too deep into the details?”

But again, it really wasn’t hard. People were really excited to jump right in, especially someone like Ram V, when we talked about Swamp Thing, he and I got really caught up in Swamp Thing and Swamp Thing’s past, and what are the things that we want to cover with Swamp Thing.

But then we took a step back and we thought, “What’s a really great science fiction story that we want to tell that involves Swamp Thing?” Once we freed ourselves from all the other trappings, that’s when the story just dropped right into place, and that’s when we got to have a lot of fun with, “But who do we want from Swamp Thing’s past to fit into this wild story? Okay, cool. We can fit him or her or them here,” and then things just fell into place. I think once we took the approach with writers and artists, that you can be really as free as you want here, we saw the best results.

SWAMP THING: FUTURE STATE’S BREAKOUT STAR

That’s actually a great segue, because the next question I had was “let’s both take three minutes to just fawn over Ram V-

Yes, Ram V!

Because as he took over Justice League Dark, he’s found a new gear. As the group editor, you’re the guy who keeps the trains running on time, but you’re also the coach, right? You’re the one that’s trying to get the most out of your players that you can possibly get?

Exactly. I’m really fortunate in that I get to work on two books with Ram, Justice League Dark and Swamp Thing in Future State. We took very different approaches to both books. Ram’s storytelling really is… If you’re a fan of his, get ready, because Justice League Dark versus Swamp Thing, the way he approached the stories was very different. Justice League Dark, that the second script just came in today and I read it, it’s going to break your heart. But again, it will give you hope. Swamp Thing however, he just takes the concept to its furthest reaches. Working with him on both was not a challenge, it was just an opportunity for me to cheerlead Ram to stretch, to continue the great work that he has done on Justice League Dark.

I do think he is producing some of his best work in the most recent issues. They’re so much fun. We just continued that spirit through Justice League Dark. It’s going to be a seamless experience, even though we do have a time jump. Whereas with Swamp Thing, this is brand new Ram V. You get an element of it in the Legend of Swamp Thing Halloween Spectacular that just came out. He has two stories in there and you get a taste of what’s to come in Swamp Thing Future State there. If you like ghost stories, get ready.

What character are we going to come out of the other side of this event loving more than we’ve ever loved them before? Who do you hope we end up loathing?

It’s hard for me to pick a favorite here, but I don’t want to keep talking about Swamp Thing too much, but again, what we do with Swamp Thing is so wild, I really do think people’s perspective is going to change in terms of what is Swamp Thing, when it’s freed from Alec Holland? What does that look like? What does that mean for the character? The opportunities really open up, so I’m really excited about that.

Green Lantern

John Stewart fans, we’ve heard you. The Future State Green Lantern book, which is oversized, so it’s going to be about 44 pages. You get right around 20, 22 pages of John Stewart in a story called “Last Lanterns.” It’s what happens when the power battery dies. Think of it like The Magnificent Seven. What happens to all these green lanterns if the power battery dies? John Stewart and his ragtag group of former Green Lanterns prove that you can still do good without the rings.

In this future where the power battery is dead, John Stewart and what remains of the Green Lantern Corps, they come to a planet and that planet is just about to be overrun by a galactic religious cult. It’s their last stand against this group. How do a group of heroes who used to have powers now face a galactic threat and attempt to save a planet? It’s so cool how they do it.

Then the other 22 pages will be filled with tales across the Corps. What happens to all the other Lanterns? What happens to Jessica Cruz? What happens to Guy Gardener? What happens to the Teen Lantern and Mogo if they’re on a mission together and the power battery goes down? We’re going to get a wide variety of tones and admissions and artwork to across these stories that feature the tale of Green Lantern Corps. I think John Stewart’s going to get a great spotlight.

Teen Titans

Teen Titans introduces a really cool concept where we suggest that sometime in the future, a Teen Titans Academy was established, where the more classic Titans, Nightwing, Starfire, Cyborg, mentored characters that you saw in the new Teen Titans, like Roundhouse, Crush, et cetera. But these classic Titans were charged with protecting and mentoring the students who would become heroes tomorrow, but they’re faced with the students that they could not teach.

This is the aftermath of that betrayal. We see that Teen Titans Academy has fallen, most of its students are dead, we’ve got this mysterious betrayal, and then we get the first appearance of Red X in the DCU. That character will have his appearance in Teen Titans Future State. That’s really fun.

Shazam

Something that I really credit senior editor, Mike Cotton, with doing here, and his creative teams, was there is a direct story thread that ties through Future State Flash, Future State Teen Titans, and then Future State Shazam. You do get a continuing story there. It doesn’t mean that you have to read one to read the other, but if you do read all three, you see some really interesting pieces come together that involve Barry, when he and other speedsters are tied off from the Speed Force, you get Wally, then you have Teen Titans.

You also have an interesting plot that flows, particularly from Teen Titans into Shazam, involving the Rock of Eternity and the split of Shazam and Billy, which is a really fun idea that writer, Tim Sheridan, takes to a dark place. It’s illustrated by Eduardo Pansica in a amazing way.

What creative team surprised you the most?

Justice League written by Josh Williamson and Robson Rocha. This one was a big surprise to me because Josh and I talked a lot about the story here, along with our associate editor, Andrea Shea. The story was originally going to be one thing, and we were all excited about that story, it was fun, it was going to have a bit of nods to some classic stories that fans would have loved, but then Josh called me up one day and said, “I’m breaking this story and I’m turning it on its head.” What Josh didn’t want to do was present, “Here’s a brand new Justice League team, and wouldn’t you know it, they’re dysfunctional and they don’t get along and that’s where the drama lies.”

Instead, Joshua really turned that on its head. Here’s a team that has been together for a while, they’ve been crime fighting for a while. They do have a couple of new secret members, but these are heroes who are good at their jobs. The twist is that their identities are a secret, even from each other. They’re great at their jobs, but they’re not so good at the family aspect of Justice League. What happens is an evolved age old enemy comes forward, and uses those secret identities against them in a plot to, of course, take over the world.

We have this really grand scale plot at work, but then what Josh did was he brought the personal element to it, and we’re playing with a theme of imposter syndrome here. I think it’s really going to change the way people look at Justice League. For me, that was the biggest surprise, was the possibility that opened up. It’s just going to be a lot of fun.

The artwork by Robson Rocha is outstanding. Wait until you see him illustrate the new Wonder Woman we have, the new Batman, the new Superman, the new Green Lantern, the Aquawoman, and the new Flash. All fresh takes on costumes, powers, emotions, the character acting involved there is powerful.

By the time readers get to Future State, they will have seen how his run on Justice League Doom Metal, the Death Metal tie-in, ends, and Robson was a part of that too, along with Xermanico. We’ll get to see this evolution in wild storytelling, going from Death Metal into Future State with the same writer and artist team, was really rewarding. We pushed them both and they both pushed each other. It’s so cool. I’m really pleased with it.

CONNER KENT AND THE SUICIDE SQUAD

And Suicide Squad! We got a movie coming out next year! What’s really exciting about this is we get back to basics on Suicide Squad. If you want to see a Suicide Squad where you’re not sure who’s going to live and who’s going to die, the Future State book is the book for you. Because we’ve got Earth-One villains, but they’re led by Conner Kent. What we see is the ultimate evolution of Amanda Waller’s plan, because now they’re on Earth-Three and Amanda Waller is dissatisfied with her role in the DC Universe, so she says, “I’m just going to go for broke with my team,” but at what cost really, especially to Conner. At what cost is her ultimate goal?

We will see that. We’ve got a wild group of teammates here, one is, I’ll give a little surprise here, it’s Clayface morphing into Martian Manhunter, and a character that you will see in the Teen Titans Future State also shows up here, along with a couple other surprises. Black Adam, of course, Future State. If you’re a fan of Grant Morrison’s DC One Million, here you go. This is Black Adam in the 853rd century. It’s really wild storytelling.

Future State runs through DC’s entire line of comics in January and February 2021. For more on Future State, the end of Dark Nights: Death Metal, or the future of DC’s multiverse, stick with Den of Geek!

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Surrender to Wild Entropy

Beloved Descendant, Mandala 2160 Surya Brahmana Arhaant III “flow like a forest of kelp through cycles of time with faith in your ancestor’s bones roar more; unleash your full force!” ﹣ Arunima I, of the Storm. Change is a force / kills false impressions / dances tandav on graves. Invites us folly to surrender to the wild indeterminacy of her powers. When you’ve received a colonialized education, you’re used to finding comfort in knowing enough. If our world were to flood, they would have us think that to survive means to be prepared enough, to possess enough, have enough / control over these ecosystems of death. Let us take flight from this. Let us ask instead, how will change possess us?

* * I. Journey: to grieve with courage. I was living by the waters of Pacific Island Aotearoa. Certainly secure that we were on solid ground. The security of material and economic privilege is so strange / you become a frog comfortable in increasingly warm water / Did you know that powerlessness is taught and learned? When womxn bodies sense a threat, we can freeze dead in our tracks: we are nervous systems. This is not a system failure: preventing the leaking of energy / this is how we persist. How have we arrived? You and I are millennia old. 202 years ago, the white man took on the burden of civilizing our families, our elders, our babies. Now, our survival has come to depend upon systems of learning created for earning, instead of learning to learn. We’ve been told that if we cannot / stop “producing,” we will perish. So we have become the best race at designing new technologies, efficiently utilizing our minds to labor for capital and accumulation. But Beloved, our liberation, foreign to these foreigners, lives beyond the patri-colonial designs of modernity. Our Poorvaj have learned by // travelling // wailing. When colonial certainties collapse, the ruins of this structure expose the rotting, necessary. Modern citizens put a lot of faith in the four walls of concrete buildings. Our territories will protect us from the danger of / that which is / stranger. This is a false and comforting impression. * * A few minutes after I say “they wouldn’t risk sending us home,” our leaders announce that we have four days to leave the island country. While Aotearoa is one of the safest places in the world right now (and to come, as we shall see) College authorities do not know how this crisis will unfold. Borders are rapidly closing now. We used to have “countries” back then and “going home” from abroad meant usually crossing borders. Everyone else in my group called “the United States” / the name colonists gave Turtle Island / home. Lesson I: Corona has little trouble flowing through bodies. Our group is atop a blue ice glacier when our program gets shut down. The rush of our departure from Aoraki Glacier slows me down: this inertia will soon haunt me, too. A few hours.. or days.. pass as if a strange dream. A few of the Americans in our group have prepared to leave as soon as we get word. Of course, they are nothing if not efficient. Whereas, swimming in ambivalence and strong attachments, I am currently unaware of how fierce high tides are. After a 10 hour bus-ride to the nearest airport, 6 hours on the airport floor, and 2 hours in a propeller plane journeying to the capital, we arrive in some hostel. Sharing bunk beds / I am once again in inanimacy and strangely unpleasurable intimacy with these strange white cyborgs and their deadening / claims to occupation of space. * * II. Entropy: What lies beyond conquest Where do we go from here? The Government of India has barred all passenger planes. Chaotic change is here and I have no safehouse to retreat to. Aotearoa is fast approaching national lockdown. I call the embassy and a disembodied voice indifferently says, “ask your university to arrange accommodation until further notice. We have no information from the government at this time.” They managed to say, “we couldn’t care enough to get you home.” without uttering one word. Keep working. Our International Scholars office buys me a 36-hour flight departing.. tomorrow. I look up the airline to confirm flight details. As of yesterday, the airline is bankrupt. This flight was to refuel in Australia; the country is not allowing any travellers to leave or transit through its gates. Maa and I decide to try an Air India ticket. I should’ve booked these quicker. There’s one flight going to Mumbai! And just as I try to click buy, she’s gone. Faster than I am.**Chaos is holding my hand now. Inviting me to cultivate a relationship with change and her ruthless grace. Aims for my belly button / rams her horns into gut / piercing pain / I’ll wait / I want to go home and home is family.. South Asia / A pool of my blood is collecting. Still, beside myself / managing this unfolding / I’ll prepare to wait it out until they allow flights to run? Yes.. what else could I..? / Oh god.. My insides are cracking open. It hurts to keep fighting for control.** We remain very ill equipped for the reality of change.Focus. try to / see clearly. This crisis is as much about a crisis as it is about continuing to dwell in colonial imaginations of crises. It is time to exorcise this all-consuming exercise for control.Beware. Be less certain that you will always have the walls of your home to protect and serve. Seas of people among us who had homes yesterday are turned into refugees today, held by strange lines / limits borne of men’s imaginaries / What shields from the indeterminacy of chaos? What you deem / hoarded / yours, may become a burden, you stand to lose when change comes.Security will mean bodies in / us / in / voluntary cages. To control is to possess security only until wild times rage. When walls built for protection turn to asphyxiate us, revolts will come. “the natural order is disorder.”﹣ Zaheer, Book Three: Change Episode 10. Long Live the Queen. The Legend of Korra.Change takes off. Her pauses do not allow time for the kind of painstakingly deliberated replies, which it is our colonial gift to provide, in the interest of stability / “in control” / pretenses of remaining unaffected, unchanged by her departure. How will we stay alive? The floodgates open.

**

III. Surrender: care flow tending

My entire being shakes. Finally. Let go. Relief arrives when you stop trying / struggling to float. I invite hands to hold me as grief flows. I am honest about the uncertainty of my situation with conspirators / a comforting outpouring of messages / con-spirare, to breathe together with. Multiple offers to stay in houses. A kindred settler spirit says, “do not worry, dear. If you choose to return to Turtle Island, you will be cared for.” We are all in the business of caring, tending to. So what if this body becomes the first terrain to call my home? There is security in their, too, in the sense that dimming, darkness, forces of death are supreme / they render bare all uncertainty. The Black officer at LAX’s Immigration, Border Patrol and Customs entrypoint has a beautiful smile. I tell him so. He blushes, and we are both pools. Soon after I arrive, I begin training. In the arts of undoing / preparing to receive death / the chaos that has only just begun. There is no planet-saving, no more civilizing conquests here. My queer water-body is an ancestral reverend / learning to harness the limitless imaginaries that our poorvaj’s prayers breathed into us. Learning melanin-richness, she holds / this infinite pluriverse / matters of love / dying matters / with grace and agility. As changes reap a late spring harvest of death, we dance wild with grief. We must. Care for those patriarchal, colonial, capital’s designs do not consider: all beings, more or less.we survive, through intimacy with force: chaos, we thrive in. with care: we prepare for chaos.Our bodies transform. We are sacred forms. our desires are ascetic; we exorcise domination and relinquish his narratives of control. We are sacred seeds.And we take root among the stars, Beloved. * * Arunima Singh Jamwal (Pronouns: A and all, fluidly, 21 yo) In Sanskrit, Arunima means first ray of sunlight and red glow of dawn. Arunima considers their creative path a gift from Creator and their Scythian ~ Suryavanshi ~ Sikh ancestors. As an animist and affective anthropologist, Arunima writes both to visibilize unseen presents and weave liberating visions for Life. Arunima’s purpose is to bring healing and balance to cultures and communities suffering from colonial-capitalism, intergenerational traumas, and cycles of social violence.Presently a settler-immigrant on the Cowlitz’s lands in Portland Oregon, Arunima loves to listen to plants and podcasts. A’s favorite spiral would have to be the Māori koru that represents our return to the point of origin and a state of calm harmony amidst chaos and change. Besides coordinating projects for Lewis & Clark’s Sustainability Council, she leads on-demand, intimate circles to center the ethic of healing justice in your lives, and creates community through their Instagram account, The Gurh Life.

@ Arunima Singh Jamwal (Pronouns: A and all, fluidly, 21 yo) In Sanskrit, Arunima means first ray of sunlight and red glow of dawn. Arunima considers their creative path a gift from Creator and their Scythian ~ Suryavanshi ~ Sikh ancestors. As an animist and affective anthropologist, Arunima writes both to visibilize unseen presents and weave liberating visions for Life. Arunima’s purpose is to bring healing and balance to cultures and communities suffering from colonial-capitalism, intergenerational traumas, and cycles of social violence.Presently a settler-immigrant on the Cowlitz’s lands in Portland Oregon, Arunima loves to listen to plants and podcasts. A’s favorite spiral would have to be the Māori koru that represents our return to the point of origin and a state of calm harmony amidst chaos and change. Besides coordinating projects for Lewis & Clark’s Sustainability Council, she leads on-demand, intimate circles to center the ethic of healing justice in your lives, and creates community through their Instagram account, The Gurh Life.

Self Worth Affirmations | Self Esteem & Self love Affirmations For Women

You know what self worth is?

The building block on which your whole life stands.

Self worth is responsible for making you who are today.

The way you see yourself is vital why? Because:

It is the way others see you

It decides the actions which you take in your life

It manifests what you do/do not want in life (law of attraction)

Interestingly, we all are born with that self worth as after all we are the reflection of this universe.

But that self worth seems to fade away due to:

Childhood experiences (hurtful past)

Bullying

Negative self talk

Surprisingly, it is not that hard to rebuild the self-worth.

One such technique is the use of affirmations.

Through these affirmations, you can feed new positive beliefs in your subconscious mind while simultaneously replacing the negative limiting beliefs about yourself.

Before we dig straight into the self-worth affirmations.

Drill some key points in your mind so that affirmations could actually work for you.

Script or perform journaling for your favorite affirmations so you make the idea more concrete.

Repetition is vital. 5 minutes every morning, afternoon and night will suffice for repeating the list

Believe what you affirm by – counter the negative thoughts which make believing seem impossible.

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Self Worth Affirmations

I love myself unconditionally

I make time for myself

I give up bad habits for better body

I adopting new habit for better self image

I look after my physical health

I practise ideal self care routine

My body always supports me

I do not tie my self worth with the way i look

I am missing nothing

I am not my body

I do not overthink

I practice kindness to myself every day

I am not my dress size

I am capable of recovering on my own

I wear power and confidence like a coat

I am born leader

I capable of chasing whatever i want

I am successful.

I know all my “whys” in life.

I am beautiful.

I am attractive.

I love myself.

I am succeeding in every goal

I trust myself more than anything

If i will put my mind into anything then i am capable of achieving it.

I can do anything.

I speak my mind.

I own a great intuition

I am extremely wise

I am intelligent

I am capable of defending myself.

I am a winner even if i lose

I am a warrior and fighter

I follow my gut.

I love to do things my way without regrets

I fight for what i believe

I am always hopeful.

My happiness depends on me

I am capable of rising above hardships.

I love to take care of myself.

I am proud of all my small and big accomplishments.

I am naturally polite.

I never hide who I am.

I let go of the expectations.

I do not force any relationship, instead let my relationship happen naturally.

I recover every dating hardship

I love and respect my partner.

I will continue to develop a healthy relations with people

I will communicate clearly and kindly with my partner.

I deserve a healthy relationship.

I own such big heart which is capable of forgiving others

I will compromise where i want

I will never afford anyone devaluing me

I feel proud to be independent

I deserve to be appreciated

I value the people whom i love

I am healy and attractive.

I am free of negativity.

I am beautiful on the inside and outside.

I am comfortable with myself.

I think positively

When I look in the mirror, I see beauty of my soul

I feel good about myself.

I love and own my skin.

Universe has made me naturally beautiful.

I acknowledge and recognize that I have true beauty.

I possess inner beauty.

I am an original. No other piece like me.

I love the way I look.

I love the way speak

I have a friendly, positive, & outgoing nature.

I am capable of attracting others with my charisma

I am transforming into a more confident, & beautiful person.

I am perfectly imperfect in few domains of my life and i accept it

I take pride in who I am.

I accept myself deeply & completely.

I am immune to all sorts negative thoughts

I am internally validated.

People trust my expertise.

I am a proven leader. I lead my life. I create my life

I am an excellent decision maker.

I maximize success in areas of my life.

I never shy away from pushing the limits to get the most out of life.

I reach higher and further every day.

I enjoy my work and look forward to my car.

I am that one unstoppable soul.

I have all that it takes to turn dreams into reality.

I will use my success to help others.

I own a heart that will build my coworkers up as I grow.

I belong in my position of power.

My actions speak louder than my words.

I work in silence and let my achievements make noise

I push rough criticism.

I validate every thought before making it sink to my subconscious mind

I am powerful and highly capable.

I am getting rich and successful everyday

I am capable of managing my money well.

I work for my own self and my own gain.

I know how to balance family and work

I treat my family with love and respect.

I am loving & understanding toward my family.

I treasure my loved ones

I enjoy small moments with my family.

I appreciate what my parents have done for me

My family wants me to be happy.

I practice selflessness with my loved ones.

My life is better because of my loved ones.

I am a positive role model.

I will do what it takes to change and feel better.

I am a good provider.

I learn from every setback

I use every criticism of my improvement & benefit.

I am not easily shaken by adversities

I am a fighter who makes a lemonade when life throws lemon!

I take every step in the right direction. It is meant to teach me something

I learn from any failures and push forward.

I am capable of scaring my greatest fears.

I have important things to say.

I am considerate of myself & others.

I will do what I love.

I walk & act with purpose

I am the only one who needs to understand my choices.

This is my life, & I will live it on my conditions.

I have the potential to make a positive impact.

I do not doubt my potential for I can do what has never been done before.

I fight for my rights.

I am capable of creating my own space.

I am an extraordinary individual.

I do not care what others think of me.

I love that i am never afraid of trying again

I am capable of turning all my complaints into solutions.

I am not defined by my situation

I choose to be happy right now. I love my life.

Today I choose me.

I am confident and strong.

I believe in my abilities.

I am in control of my life.

I deserve it all

I love all my flaw

I am limitless

My belief on myself is infinite

I do not need to be perfect

I am capable

I am persistent!

I am in control of my reality

I am the creator of my reality

I am enough

I can figure out everything

I deserve all happiness

I deserve all the attention and love

I deserve success and wealth.

I own unique abilities

I deserve worthy relationships.

I am growing everyday

Good things come naturally to me

I am a magnet. People love me.

All my loved ones respect me.

I respect the limitations set by me.

I deserve love and respect for being as I am

I am making a difference in the world

I matter to myself

I value my worth

I own great talents to share with the world

I own a great potential of making my dreams come true

I have a great potential within me.

I deserve to get whatever i want

I love the person I am turning into

I am getting better day by day

I own the power of changing anything

I am capable of making wise decisions.

I love my abilities and capabilities

I reflect self confidence.

Being confident comes easily to me.

I do not need validations from others

My skills are valued

I am self reliant

I am creative

I am a unique individual who does not to prove herself

I am capable of finding the solution of every problem

My past cannot make me a prisoner of my past mistakes

I own all the abilities to change if only i wish

My decisions only rely on me

I adapt to new experiences

I am living a rewarding and beautiful life

I rejoice every ounce of loved received

Success is written in my stars

I inspire others

I attract all the positivity in my life

My mistakes are not failures, they are the stepping stones to my success

I am continuously growing

I trust my abilities and skills

I own a healthy self esteem and self image

I have been refined by life like a diamond

Universe is always with me. I am never alone

Opportunities always know my door

I dont keep negative feelings in my heart and negative thoughts in my mind

I love my own opinions

I exhale fear and breathe confidence

I can not be half loved because i am full of life

My name is “worthy”

My value can not be measured

I am on a journey with myself

Comparison never distracts me as i am busy with falling in love with myself

I know several ways of honouring myself and i am learning many new

People’s opinions about me reflects who they are not me. (whether positive or negative)

I am compassionate with myself.

I can overcome any block

I am capable of more than my potential

My best source of motivation is myself

I am grateful for all my life lessons as they have refined me

I already have what i want

i easily let go what is needed to be gone

I own an abundance mindset and live from it

I let go everything that is not capable of serving me

Everything which i need is already present within me

I own an unshaken faith

I have more strength than i think

I am braver than what i seem

I am a magnet for miracles

 Self worth Quote# 1

Clothes and courage have much to do with each other. —Sara Jeannette Duncan 

Self worth Quote# 2

When you forgive, you heal your own anger and hurt and are able to let love lead again. It’s like spring cleaning for your heart. —Marci Shimoff 

Self worth Quote# 3

We are not interested in the possibilities of defeat. They do not exist. —Victoria, Queen of England

Self worth Quote# 4

If I ever did manage to find a law to live by, I would break it. —Exene Cervenka

Self worth Quote# 5

You have to be taught to be second class; you’re not born that way. —Lena Horne

Self worth Quote# 6

When I fight, there is usually a funeral and it isn’t mine. —Henrietta Green

Self worth Quote# 7

I came out of the womb a diva. All it means is you know your worth as a woman. —Cyndi Lauper

Self worth Quote# 8

it is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, and it is not possible to find it elsewhere. —Agnes Repplier

Self worth Quote# 9

You can cry, but don’t let it stop you. Don’t cry in one spot—cry as you continue to move. —Kina

Self worth Quote# 10

I’m comfortable with money and it’s comfortable with me. —Diana Ross,

Self worth Quote# 11

I can never remember being afraid of an audience. If the audience could do better, they’d be up here on stage and I’d be out there watching them. —Ethel Merman

Self worth Quote# 12

The more you do, the more you are. —Angie Papadakis 

Before you goo . . .

Tell me which one is your favorite affirmation or quote by dropping the comment! 

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Next Right Action That Help The Zodiac Signs Progress On Their Paths

Aries:  Rescue – “Asking for help isn’t easy for many successful people. However, that’s what you need to do now as you expand your life. If you find yourself troubled, you can expect help with whatever issue is at hand now. You need only ask, and assistance will come your way. The most important support you can expect is from Spirit. Get into a right relationship with the Divine and you’ll see that many conditions line up as if by magic to provide you with all the help you need. Ask and you will receive. There is no need to fear. Safety is a place within.”

Taurus:  Cleaning House – “Why do you hold on to things that remind you of the past? Is your home cluttered with objects that bring up unhappy memories? Do you have a tendency to attract broken people who need to be fixed? If you’re involved in this type of emotional project, stop right now and “clean house.” Being needed isn’t going to get you what you really need. That said, even if you initially resist letting go of excess physical or emotional baggage, you’ll feel amazing afterward. Let go, and let the universe bring you something better. The universe doesn’t like a vacuum and will respond to your housecleaning by filling your home with what will best serve you.”

Gemini:  Flying – “If you were a bird flying high in the air, what would you see? When you soar above life’s challenges and opportunities, a new perspective becomes available. Today you have invisible wings that allow you to swiftly bring your circumstances into alignment with your highest purpose. This is a sign that your waiting is over, that all your hard work has paid off and the things you hoped for are no longer beyond your scope. You have the ability to reach for the stars and find one with your name on it. Spread your wings and soar.”

Cancer:  Deep Freeze – “Nothing you can do right now will amount to anything substantial no matter how much you try, push, manipulate, or cajole. Life wants you to take a break. You need to do this now, lest you become exhausted and be forced to rest. What you need will be there for you when you emerge in the springtime. For now, winter has its own ideas for you. Wait for signs of spring.”

Leo:  Wide Open – “All manner of opportunities are presented to you at this time. The wide open card is a signal that you’re able to truly manifest your dreams and that your goals are in sight. Don’t remain small and contracted. Instead, expand your horizons beyond what you believe to be your limitations. You have a unique voice that needs to be expressed in the world. The universe is supportive of new ideas and approaches at this time, so speak up and out.”

Virgo:  Come together – When the come together card appears reversed, it is a sign that perhaps a love connection is unbalanced. Is intimacy being withheld from you, or are you withholding it from another? Longing and yearning are often mistaken for love—when in fact they are signs of lack. Perhaps you’ve been doing all the emotional work and pouring your water into an empty well, to the point that now you are also depleted. Know this: true love will not be denied you. What is truly for you will never walk past you or require this much energy. True love will allow ways find its reflection in another.”

Libra:  Field of dreams – “This is the perfect time to harness the field of vast potential not yet realized in your life. Great abundance is yours if you’re willing to do the work alongside the Gentle Gardener. Be clear about your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. Concentrate on your best life regardless of the temporary outer conditions imposed upon you by the greater world, which has its own story to tell. You have a basket full of seeds that are quite powerful, for your talents are Divinely inspired and will indeed lead to great harvest to be shared with others. You will reap what you have sown. Dream big, dream beautiful, take action, and tend to the garden of your life….and experience the extraordinary.”

Scorpio: The magical map shifter – “This card may bring you the opposite of what you seek. Perhaps you’re in denial about your situation and refuse to see the truth. Or maybe you’ve been traveling down a path that has constantly led you to a field of poppies, where you fall asleep and dream of desires that never find their form. To have the life you really want, you must match its vibrational energy and resonate with it. Sometimes our greatest hurts and disappointments are what awaken us to our need to shift to a higher frequency.”

Sagittarius: Spark – “Sometimes your fire gets doused by other who don’t want you to be all that you can be. In that case, you need to move away from the “water,” lest things get too damp. The spark card in the reverse may indicate that you’re allowing yourself to be so consumed by a thought, feeling, or situation that you’re in danger of becoming completely burned-out. Compulsion and impulsiveness must be tempered now. Rest by a warm fire. Let things die down a bit. Then you’ll see if the true spark will still be there. If not, you can always light another fire at another time.”

Capricorn: Home – “Peace, security, safety, belonging, and all the features one would want from “home” are indicated now. The home card represents an invitation to experience what it’s like to be secure in your own skin, to live comfortably no matter what is happening in the world around you. It is time for opening your eyes to your tribe of like-minded people, or one special person who makes you feel like you’ve come. Home is love, and love is all around you now. Whatever your inquiry, you are where you’re meant to be and will reap great benefits by staying on this path regardless of where it leads. Home will always be with you—it is where the heart is.”

Aquarius: Goblins – “Goblins are born when you’re wounded and something essential is lost in that experience. From that point on, as you forget your wholeness, they remain with you in the shadows. There, they remind you of what brought them into being, by mimicking your own voice, tricking you into believing that you’re unworthy, victimized, or unlovable. They hold you hostage through self-worth, self-sabotage, and the feeling that you’re lacking what you need. If goblins pay you a visit, know that they represent the shadow of your own self, or someone else’s, and they’re leading you into a potentially reactive situation. A goblins card appearance is an opportunity for growth, however, and a signal that you must love yourself. No human is without flaws. You must release resentments and negative self-talk. Miracles can happen. Let go of negativity.

Pisces: Gentle Gardner – “The gentle gardener is visiting you at this moment in your life to remind you that your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs create the reality you experience. She is the embodiment of the energy within you that is sent into the field of co-creation and ensures that all that you are is reflected in the world of form. Are you aware of your thoughts? What is their quality? Believe in limitless possibility and you will see miracles unfold. The gentle gardener guarantees the integrity of everything you send out into the world. Stay positive and expect a wondrous return. Your garden is abundant with beauty.”

Source: rose-oracles

Chapter 1/3# TOM

It was cold in Grey Grass, the great Prime Capital of the wealthy Green Lands, it was not ordinary. Tom feelt cold bones and humidity in the air, the drops of rain beat the glass of the window constantly in an iregular and anoying form, instead of the sun waking him up, and the noise of the sreets full of people selling fresh fruits, vegetables, meat and fish. The only hero in that was the fireplace where an army of flams tried to attack the imvisibel monsters in the air. All the warmness in the fire stayed in the fireplace. They were afraid of the darkness, of the big jaws of the monsters. Miles and miles away Tom reasted under the blankets. Looking to the celling he tried to find a gap of coldness and darkness. He wanted to run away of that. But the stone floor was cold. Silence lived in that castel. No one walked in the halls. Not even wispers. The explocions of the wood in infinite sparks, and the endless rain beating on the glass ruled over the room. Tom in the fastest way we could dressed the thickest wool tunic we had, the warmest pants and a pair of gloves. Wrapped in the blankets slowly walked through the cold room until the battle field. The junks of wood turned into coal, black and spinkled of small tongues of fire that were once mighty warriors murdered by monstres. Tom himself put more wood and pine cones in the fireplace, hoping it to came to be a new weapon against the beast of the air. More flames appeard. And lighter the room become. He knew that would'nt last long. But it was enough to make his blood warmer. Suddently Lun, a young maid knocked at the old oak door with silver details and green tourmanile, emeralds and jade, and a black bull made of polish jet stones. She brought hot sugary camomille tea with limon chips, corn bread and bacon. She had a lovely face, she was a low born of course but she was beautiful in her own way. A way no one had. She had a big mouth and brown eyes, small nose and soft cheeks. Her hears were hidden by the long hairs that rain down until the middel of the back, like carmel water falls. She left room with her noiseless feet after puting the food on Tom’s lap. Tom eated it all aegerly wile imagin the epic battle. All the wood was burnig. All was warn for once. The legendary battle was won. Tom stayed wrapped in the blankets but moved further away to a chair near the window. Near of the big window of the room was a chair where Tom liked to seat on. From there he could see all Grey Grass through glasses in green, grey and white. Where he could see all the city. Grey Grass was the great Prime Capital of the Green Lands. A country full of fat mans and smilly babys. The capital was the same. Built out of grey grass a hard greyish green sandstone found deap in the Sun forest, carved in powerfull speels milenias ago in ages has ancient has mankind can remenber. Some say by Ortys Darlane the house’s founder, others belive to be his wife, a strage man he found in the woods, magic secret criateurs. Tom didnt belive in the speels, they never helped Grey Grass of anything, only man, the hight towers and thick walls, the castels canons and resevacions for many years under any siege. Altho those weapons served to kill enemys and defence the city they were beautiful.The towers as high as stars had carved draws of animals: bulls ,eagles, lions, bears, stags, snakes… the walls inside had some houses, like hanged streets of wood. Even mighty canons and armors had draws, mostly bulls, black bulls, the sigil of house Darlane. The enormous palacien castel of Grey Grass, the Bull’s Keep, reasted in the center of the city, a stunning citadel, with no regular shape, limitless towers, wich one with limitless windows, like the one Tom was near. From that throne the young heir could glimps it all. The walls a part of the keep, the streets, the aveneus, the founteins in the plazas, the markets, the mansions of smallers lords and of course all the houses, built over and under each other, but each one with a small “window garden”. Now… It was all wet. But the room was warm, and the maids started to brieng breakfast to everyone, their feet were noiseless like Lun’s. Suddently another explocion of sparks happened, righf after bigger and havyer feets walked through the hall making more noise has close it getted. With out any pleasentrieas the Iron Ox came in. His half-uncle ,sir Marke Keeny entered the room. He dreessed simply and praticly, a blue coat and a brown gibon, wool pants and leader boots. Along side with a patch, brown wild gone hair and a beard until the begining of the chest. Tom steared at him mute with no reazon. -Good morning Tom.-say the knight- we will pratice at the close horn room today… for obvious reazons.-it was raining all the water in the world. -Uncle… once you told me when you were my age, nomatter the weather you would train everyday, no matter the rain the wind, the sun or snow.- the half-uncle were a highly expirient warrior fighting for the Green Lands. -I don’t think i ever told you this…- he seated near the fireplace where Tom formely were.- but what’s your name? -Tommarde Colte Darlane. -And me?- Marck Keeny… a bastard, he thought. -Sir Marcke Keeny an Iron Ox.- saied Tom knowlegeless of what would he say right after. -A bastard of The Prime Lord Axel Darlane.- Tom was seek to wait to know anything l did'nt knew. -I grew up were. In Grey Grass. Were my mother died. Do you know her name? - Keeny… -Yes. I’m a bastard. I had never been seen by your grandfater eyes with proundness and respect in front of the other green nobels. To him I was nothing… I was only a mistake. I knew I had to do something. So i trained everyday. Battels are'nt always in sunny days. 16 years I trained. The Morzan’s Rebelion was at his height. I was young. But danm it i fought like it was my last day in the world. I killed 37 Blue man. I’ll neved forget that number. That day I become an Iron Ox a knight. I founded the House Kenny. And it was how i lost my eye. A mad man only had an arrow. He had a very large scabbard but with no sword. Climbed up to me and stabed me in the eye. That was my thirty seveth man. Since that i was like a son to my father.- well that was a thing Tom did'nt knew -But why wo'nt we traine like you. I wanna be Iron Bull. I wanna be the greatets swordsman in Oteigon and time. - You have nothing to win. You will be the Prime Lord. Like your father, like my father, like the father of his father. If you fought in a battel like i did, you would be the one that everyone wanted to kill. The heir of the Green Lands. I was just a meanless bastard. You must learn other thing more than how to kill. You will not be in the front of a battle,but in the back making the every desision with your generals. -Will that be boring? -A bit. Do you know what’s even more boring? -What? -Losing a battle. Death. That day they trained all day. A littel after they started Rorge entered, and later Oz and Balt. The sky turned from grey to orangue to black as jet stones.

“Song of Myself,” Walt Whitman, 1882

                         1 I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil,        this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and        their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death. Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never        forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy.                          2 Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are         crowded with perfumes,   I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not         let it. The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the         distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised         and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me. The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread,         crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the         passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore         and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the         eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple         boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the         fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me         rising from bed and meeting the sun. Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you         reckon'd the earth much? Have you practis'd so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the         origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are         millions of suns left,) You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor         look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the         spectres in books,   You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things         from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.                         3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the         beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now, And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world. Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always         substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed         of life. To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well         entretied, braced in the beams, Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery here we stand. Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is         not my soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn. Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age, Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while         they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself. Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man         hearty and clean,   Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall         be less familiar than the rest. I am satisfied -- I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side         through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the         day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the         house with their plenty, Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream         at my eyes, That they turn from gazing after and down the road, And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent, Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and         which is ahead?                         4 Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the         ward and city I live in, or the nation, The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors         old and new, My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues, The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I         love, The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or         loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations, Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful         news, the fitful events; These come to me days and nights and go from me again, But they are not the Me myself. Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable         certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering         at it.                           5 I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase         itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other. Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or         lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valv'd voice. I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently         turn'd over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged         your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held         my feet. Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge         that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the         women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love, And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, And brown ants in the little wells beneath them, And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder,         mullein and poke-weed.                          6 A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me      with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any         more than he.   I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful         green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we         may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of         the vegetation. Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow         zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the         same, I receive them the same. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken         soon out of their mothers' laps, And here you are the mothers' laps. This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old         mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues, And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths         for nothing. I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men         and women, And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring         taken soon out of their laps.   What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and         children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait         at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and         luckier.                         7 Has any one supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I         know it. I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd         babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all         good. I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth, I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal         and fathomless as myself, (They do not know how immortal, but I know.) Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and         female, For me those that have been boys and that love women, For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be         slighted, For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers         and the mothers of mothers, For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears, For me children and the begetters of children.   Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded, I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no, And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot         be shaken away.                         8 The little one sleeps in its cradle, I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away         flies with my hand. The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy         hill, I peeringly view them from the top. The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the         pistol has fallen. The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk         of the promenaders, The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb,         the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor, The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls, The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs, The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside borne to         the hospital, The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall, The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly         working his passage to the centre of the crowd, The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes, What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sunstruck or         in fits, What exclamations of women taken suddenly who hurry         home and give birth to babes, What living and buried speech is always vibrating here, what         howls restrain'd by decorum, Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made,         acceptances, rejections with convex lips, I mind them or the show or resonance of them -- I come         and I depart.                         9 The big doors of the country barn stand open and ready, The dried grass of the harvest-time loads the slow-drawn         wagon, The clear light plays on the brown gray and green intertinged, The armfuls are pack'd to the sagging mow. I am there, I help, I came stretch'd atop of the load, I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other, I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy, And roll head over heels and tangle my hair full of wisps.                         10 Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt, Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee, In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night, Kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game, Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun         by my side. The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the         sparkle and scud, My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout         joyously from the deck. The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me, I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a         good time; You should have been with us that day round the         chowder-kettle. I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far         west, the bride was a red girl, Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly         smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large         thick blankets hanging from their shoulders, On a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in skins,         his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck, he held         his bride by the hand,   She had long eyelashes, her head was bare, her coarse straight         locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs and reach'd         to her feet. The runaway slave came to my house and stopt outside, I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile, Through the swung half-door of the kitchen I saw him         limpsy and weak, And went where he sat on a log and led him in and assured         him, And brought water and fill'd a tub for his sweated body and         bruis'd feet, And gave him a room that enter'd from my own, and gave         him some coarse clean clothes, And remember perfectly well his revolving eyes and his         awkwardness, And remember putting plasters on the galls of his neck and         ankles; He staid with me a week before he was recuperated and         pass'd north, I had him sit next me at table, my fire-lock lean'd in the         corner.

                        11 Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore, Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly; Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome. She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank, She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the         window. Which of the young men does she like the best? Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her. Where are you off to, lady? for I see you, You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room. Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth         bather, The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them. The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from         their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies. An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies, It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs. The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge         to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them, They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and         bending arch, They do not think whom they souse with spray.                         12 The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his         knife at the stall in the market, I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down. Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil, Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great         heat in the fire. From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive         arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand         so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.                         13 The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block         swags underneath on its tied-over chain, The negro that drives the long dray of the stone-yard, steady         and tall he stands pois'd on one leg on the string-piece, His blue shirt exposes his ample neck and breast and loosens         over his hip-band, His glance is calm and commanding, he tosses the slouch of         his hat away from his forehead, The sun falls on his crispy hair and mustache, falls on the         black of his polish'd and perfect limbs.     I behold the picturesque giant and love him, and I do not         stop there, I go with the team also. In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well         as forward sluing, To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object         missing, Absorbing all to myself and for this song. Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy         shade, what is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life. My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my         distant and day-long ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around. I believe in those wing'd purposes, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider green and violet and the tufted crown         intentional, And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not         something else, And the jay in the woods never studied the gamut, yet trills         pretty well to me, And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.                         14 The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an         invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky. The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill,         the chickadee, the prairie-dog, The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats, The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread         wings, I see in them and myself the same old law.     The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections, They scorn the best I can do to relate them. I am enamour'd of growing out-doors, Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes         and mauls, and the drivers of horses, I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out. What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me, Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me, Not asking the sky to come down to my good will, Scattering it freely forever.                         15 The pure contralto sings in the organ loft, The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane         whistles its wild ascending lisp, The married and unmarried children ride home to their         Thanksgiving dinner, The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong         arm, The mate stands braced in the whale-boat, lance and harpoon         are ready, The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches, The deacons are ordain'd with cross'd hands at the altar, The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the         big wheel, The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe         and looks at the oats and rye, The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirm'd case, (He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his         mother's bed-room;) The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his         case, He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the         manuscript; The malform'd limbs are tied to the surgeon's table,     What is removed drops horribly in a pail; The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand, the drunkard         nods by the bar-room stove, The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his         beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass, The young fellow drives the express-wagon, (I love him,         though I do not know him;) The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the         race, The western turkey-shooting draws old and young, some         lean on their rifles, some sit on logs, Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position,         levels his piece; The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or         levee, As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views         them from his saddle, The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their         partners, the dancers bow to each other, The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to         the musical rain, The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the         Huron, The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering         moccasins and bead-bags for sale, The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut         eyes bent sideways, As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat the plank is         thrown for the shore-going passengers, The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister         winds it off in a ball, and stops now and then for the         knots, The one-year wife is recovering and happy having a week         ago borne her first child, The clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine         or in the factory or mill, The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the         reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book, the         sign-painter is lettering with blue and gold,   The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts         at his desk, the shoemaker waxes his thread, The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers         follow him, The child is baptized, the convert is making his first         professions, The regatta is spread on the bay, the race is begun, (how the         white sails sparkle!) The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would         stray, The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, (the purchaser         higgling about the odd cent;) The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of         the clock moves slowly, The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and just-open'd lips, The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her         tipsy and pimpled neck, The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and         wink to each other, (Miserable! I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you;) The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the         great Secretaries, On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with         twined arms, The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in         the hold, The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his         cattle, As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice         by the jingling of loose change, The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning         the roof, the masons are calling for mortar, In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the         laborers; Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is         gather'd, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what         salutes of cannon and small arms!) Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the         mower mows, and the winter-grain falls in the ground; Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the         hole in the frozen surface, The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter         strikes deep with his axe, Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood         or pecan-trees, Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or         through those drain'd by the Tennessee, or through         those of the Arkansas, Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or         Altamahaw, Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great-grandsons         around them, In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers         after their day's sport, The city sleeps and the country sleeps, The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time, The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband         sleeps by his wife; And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, And such as it is to be of these more or less I am, And of these one and all I weave the song of myself.                         16 I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise, Regardless of others, ever regardful of others, Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man, Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse and stuff'd with the stuff         that is fine, One of the Nation of many nations, the smallest the same         and the largest the same, A Southerner soon as a Northerner, a planter nonchalant         and hospitable down by the Oconee I live, A Yankee bound my own way ready for trade, my joints the         limberest joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth, A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deer-skin         leggings, a Louisianian or Georgian, A boatman over lakes or bays or along coasts, a Hoosier,         Badger, Buckeye;   At home on Kanadian snow-shoes or up in the bush, or         with fishermen off Newfoundland, At home in the fleet of ice-boats, sailing with the rest and         tacking, At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine,         or the Texan ranch, Comrade of Californians, comrade of free North-Westerners,         (loving their big proportions,) Comrade of raftsmen and coalmen, comrade of all who         shake hands and welcome to drink and meat, A learner with the simplest, a teacher of the thoughtfullest, A novice beginning yet experient of myriads of seasons, Of every hue and caste am I, of every rank and religion, A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker, Prisoner, fancy-man, rowdy, lawyer, physician, priest. I resist any thing better than my own diversity, Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place. (The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in         their place, The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.)                         17 These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands,         they are not original with me, If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or         next to nothing, If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they         are nothing, If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing. This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the         water is, This the common air that bathes the globe.                         18 With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums, I play not marches for accepted victors only, I play marches         for conquer'd and slain persons.     Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit         in which they are won. I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for         them. Vivas to those who have fail'd! And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea! And to those themselves who sank in the sea! And to all generals that lost engagements, and all overcome         heroes! And the numberless unknown heroes equal to the greatest         heroes known!                         19 This is the meal equally set, this the meat for natural hunger, It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous, I make         appointments with all, I will not have a single person slighted or left away, The kept-woman, sponger, thief, are hereby invited, The heavy-lipp'd slave is invited, the venerealee is invited; There shall be no difference between them and the rest. This is the press of a bashful hand, this the float and odor of         hair, This the touch of my lips to yours, this the murmur of         yearning, This the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet again. Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the         mica on the side of a rock has. Do you take it I would astonish? Does the daylight astonish? does the early redstart twittering         through the woods? Do I astonish more than they?     This hour I tell things in confidence, I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.                         20 Who goes there? hankering, gross, mystical, nude; How is it I extract strength from the beef I eat? What is a man anyhow? what am I? what are you? All I mark as my own you shall offset it with your own, Else it were time lost listening to me. I do not snivel that snivel the world over, That months are vacuums and the ground but wallow and         filth. Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids,         conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out. Why should I pray? why should I venerate and be         ceremonious? Having pried through the strata, analyzed to a hair,         counsel'd with doctors and calculated close, I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones. In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn         less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them. I know I am solid and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means. I know I am deathless, I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's         compass, I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a         burnt stick at night. I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood, I see that the elementary laws never apologize, (I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my         house by, after all.) I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware I sit content, And if each and all be aware I sit content. One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is         myself, And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand         or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I         can wait. My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.                         21 I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell         are with me, The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I         translate into a new tongue. I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men. I chant the chant of dilation or pride, We have had ducking and deprecating about enough, I show that size is only development. Have you outstript the rest? are you the President? It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and         still pass on. I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night. Press close bare-bosom'd night -- press close magnetic         nourishing night! Night of south winds -- night of the large few stars! Still nodding night -- mad naked summer night. Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth! Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset -- earth of the mountains misty-topt! Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with         blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for         my sake! Far-swooping elbow'd earth -- rich apple-blossom'd earth! Smile, for your lover comes. Prodigal, you have given me love -- therefore I to you give         love! O unspeakable passionate love.                         22 You sea! I resign myself to you also -- I guess what you mean, I behold from the beach your crooked inviting fingers, I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me, We must have a turn together, I undress, hurry me out of         sight of the land, Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse, Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you. Sea of stretch'd ground-swells, Sea breathing broad and convulsive breaths, Sea of the brine of life and of unshovell'd yet always-ready         graves, Howler and scooper of storms, capricious and dainty sea, I am integral with you, I too am of one phase and of all         phases.     Partaker of influx and efflux I, extoller of hate and conciliation, Extoller of amies and those that sleep in each others' arms. I am he attesting sympathy, (Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the         house that supports them?) I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be         the poet of wickedness also. What blurt is this about virtue and about vice? Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand         indifferent, My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has grown. Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy? Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over         and rectified? I find one side a balance and the antipodal side a balance, Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine, Thoughts and deeds of the present our rouse and early start. This minute that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and now. What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not         such a wonder, The wonder is always and always how there can be a mean         man or an infidel.                         23 Endless unfolding of words of ages! And mine a word of the modern, the word En-Masse. A word of the faith that never balks, Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time         absolutely.     It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all, That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all. I accept Reality and dare not question it, Materialism first and last imbuing. Hurrah for positive science! long live exact demonstration! Fetch stonecrop mixt with cedar and branches of lilac, This is the lexicographer, this the chemist, this made a         grammar of the old cartouches, These mariners put the ship through dangerous unknown seas. This is the geologist, this works with the scalpel, and this is         a mathematician. Gentlemen, to you the first honors always! Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling, I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling. Less the reminders of properties told my words, And more the reminders they of life untold, and of freedom         and extrication, And make short account of neuters and geldings, and favor         men and women fully equipt, And beat the gong of revolt, and stop with fugitives and         them that plot and conspire.                         24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or         apart from them, No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the locks from the doors! Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs! Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.   Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me         the current and index. I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have their         counterpart of on the same terms. Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Voices of the diseas'd and despairing and of thieves and         dwarfs, Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion, And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and         of the father-stuff, And of the rights of them the others are down upon, Of the deform'd, trivial, flat, foolish, despised, Fog in the air, beetles rolling balls of dung. Through me forbidden voices, Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veil'd and I remove the veil, Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigur'd. I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and         heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death is. I believe in the flesh and the appetites, Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag         of me is a miracle. Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I         touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds. If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the         spread of my own body, or any part of it, Translucent mould of me it shall be you! Shaded ledges and rests it shall be you!   Firm masculine colter it shall be you! Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you! You my rich blood! your milky stream pale strippings of         my life! Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you! My brain it shall be your occult convolutions! Root of wash'd sweet-flag! timorous pond-snipe! nest of         guarded duplicate eggs! it shall be you! Mix'd tussled hay of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you! Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you! Sun so generous it shall be you! Vapors lighting and shading my face it shall be you! You sweaty brooks and dews it shall be you! Winds whose soft-tickling genitals rub against me it shall         be you! Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger         in my winding paths, it shall be you! Hands I have taken, face I have kiss'd, mortal I have ever         touch'd, it shall be you. I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious, Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy, I cannot tell how my ankles bend, nor whence the cause of         my faintest wish, Nor the cause of the friendship I emit, nor the cause of the         friendship I take again. That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the         metaphysics of books. To behold the day-break! The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate. Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently         rising freshly exuding, Scooting obliquely high and low. Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs, Seas of bright juice suffuse heaven. The earth by the sky staid with, the daily close of their         junction, The heav'd challenge from the east that moment over my head, The mocking taunt. See then whether you shall be master!                        25 Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill         me, If I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me. We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the         day-break. My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and         volumes of worlds. Speech is the twin of my vision, it is unequal to measure itself, It provokes me forever, it says sarcastically, Walt you contain enough, why don't you let it out then? Come now I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much         of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are         folded? Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, The dirt receding before my prophetical screams, I underlying causes to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts, it keeping tally with the         meaning of all things, Happiness, (which whoever hears me let him or her set out         in search of this day.) My final merit I refuse you, I refuse putting from me what I         really am, Encompass worlds, but never try to encompass me, I crowd your sleekest and best by simply looking toward you. Writing and talk do not prove me, I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic.                         26 Now I will do nothing but listen, To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute         toward it. I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of         flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals, I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice, I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or         following, Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the         day and night, Talkative young ones to those that like them, the loud laugh         of work-people at their meals, The angry base of disjointed friendship, the faint tones of         the sick, The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips         pronouncing a death-sentence, The heave'e'yo of stevedores unlading ships by the wharves,         the refrain of the anchor-lifters, The ring of alarm-bells, the cry of fire, the whirr of swift-streaking         engines and hose-carts with premonitory         tinkles and color'd lights, The steam-whistle, the solid roll of the train of approaching         cars, The slow march play'd at the head of the association         marching two and two, (They go to guard some corpse, the flag-tops are draped         with black muslin.) I hear the violoncello, ('tis the young man's heart's complaint,) I hear the key'd cornet, it glides quickly in through my ears, It shakes mad-sweet pangs through my belly and breast. I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera, Ah this indeed is music -- this suits me.     A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full. I hear the train'd soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess'd         them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick'd by the         indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep'd amid honey'd morphine, my windpipe throttled in         fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being.                         27 To be in any form, what is that? (Round and round we go, all of us, and ever come back         thither,) If nothing lay more develop'd the quahaug in its callous         shell were enough. Mine is no callous shell, I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop, They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me. I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy, To touch my person to some one else's is about as much as I         can stand.                         28 Is this then a touch? quivering me to a new identity, Flames and ether making a rush for my veins, Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them, My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is         hardly different from myself, On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs, Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip, Behaving licentious toward me, taking no denial, Depriving me of my best as for a purpose,   Unbuttoning my clothes, holding me by the bare waist, Deluding my confusion with the calm of the sunlight and         pasture-fields, Immodestly sliding the fellow-senses away, They bribed to swap off with touch and go and graze at the         edges of me, No consideration, no regard for my draining strength or my         anger, Fetching the rest of the herd around to enjoy them a while, Then all uniting to stand on a headland and worry me. The sentries desert every other part of me, They have left me helpless to a red marauder, They all come to the headland to witness and assist against me. I am given up by traitors, I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the         greatest traitor, I went myself first to the headland, my own hands carried         me there. You villain touch! what are you doing? my breath is tight in         its throat, Unclench your floodgates, you are too much for me.                         29 Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd         touch! Did it make you ache so, leaving me? Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment of perpetual         loan, Rich showering rain, and recompense richer afterward. Sprouts take and accumulate, stand by the curb prolific and         vital, Landscapes projected masculine, full-sized and golden.                         30 All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it,   They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon, The insignificant is as big to me as any, (What is less or more than a touch?) Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul. (Only what proves itself to every man and woman is so, Only what nobody denies is so.) A minute and a drop of me settle my brain, I believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps, And a compend of compends is the meat of a man or woman, And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for         each other, And they are to branch boundlessly out of that lesson until         it becomes omnific, And until one and all shall delight us, and we them.                         31 I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of         the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and         the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of         heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all         machinery, And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any         statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of         infidels. I find I incorporate gneiss, coal, long-threaded moss, fruits,         grains, esculent roots, And am stucco'd with quadrupeds and birds all over, And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons, But call any thing back again when I desire it. In vain the speeding or shyness, In vain the plutonic rocks send their old heat against my         approach, In vain the mastodon retreats beneath its own powder'd         bones, In vain objects stand leagues off and assume manifold shapes, In vain the ocean settling in hollows and the great monsters         lying low, In vain the buzzard houses herself with the sky, In vain the snake slides through the creepers and logs, In vain the elk takes to the inner passes of the woods, In vain the razor-bill'd auk sails far north to Labrador, I follow quickly, I ascend to the nest in the fissure of the cliff.                         32 I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid         and self-contain'd, I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania         of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived         thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth. So they show their relations to me and I accept them, They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in         their possession. I wonder where they get those tokens, Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop         them? Myself moving forward then and now and forever, Gathering and showing more always and with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers,   Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on         brotherly terms. A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my         caresses, Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears, Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground, Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly         moving. His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him, His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around         and return. I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?  Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you.                          33  Space and Time! now I see it is true, what I guess'd at,  What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass,  What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed,  And again as I walk'd the beach under the paling stars of the         morning.  My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps,  I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents,  I am afoot with my vision.  By the city's quadrangular houses -- in log huts, camping         with lumbermen,  Along the ruts of the turnpike, along the dry gulch and         rivulet bed,  Weeding my onion-patch or hoeing rows of carrots and         parsnips, crossing savannas, trailing in forests,  Prospecting, gold-digging, girdling the trees of a new         purchase, Scorch'd ankle-deep by the hot sand, hauling my boat down         the shallow river,   Where the panther walks to and fro on a limb overhead,         where the buck turns furiously at the hunter, Where the rattlesnake suns his flabby length on a rock,         where the otter is feeding on fish, Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou, Where the black bear is searching for roots or honey, where         the beaver pats the mud with his paddle-shaped tail; Over the growing sugar, over the yellow-flower'd cotton         plant, over the rice in its low moist field, Over the sharp-peak'd farm house, with its scallop'd scum         and slender shoots from the gutters, Over the western persimmon, over the long-leav'd corn, over         the delicate blue-flower flax, Over the white and brown buckwheat, a hummer and         buzzer there with the rest, Over the dusky green of the rye as it ripples and shades in         the breeze; Scaling mountains, pulling myself cautiously up, holding on         by low scragged limbs, Walking the path worn in the grass and beat through the         leaves of the brush, Where the quail is whistling betwixt the woods and the         wheat-lot, Where the bat flies in the Seventh-month eve, where the         great goldbug drops through the dark, Where the brook puts out of the roots of the old tree and         flows to the meadow, Where cattle stand and shake away flies with the tremulous         shuddering of their hides, Where the cheese-cloth hangs in the kitchen, where andirons         straddle the hearth-slab, where cobwebs fall in festoons         from the rafters; Where trip-hammers crash, where the press is whirling its         cylinders, Wherever the human heart beats with terrible throes under         its ribs, Where the pear-shaped balloon is floating aloft, (floating in         it myself and looking composedly down,) Where the life-car is drawn on the slip-noose, where the heat         hatches pale-green eggs in the dented sand,   Where the she-whale swims with her calf and never forsakes it, Where the steam-ship trails hind-ways its long pennant of         smoke, Where the fin of the shark cuts like a black chip out of the         water, Where the half-burn'd brig is riding on unknown currents, Where shells grow to her slimy deck, where the dead are         corrupting below; Where the dense-starr'd flag is borne at the head of the         regiments, Approaching Manhattan up by the long-stretching island, Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my         countenance, Upon a door-step, upon the horse-block of hard wood         outside, Upon the race-course, or enjoying picnics or jigs or a good         game of base-ball, At he-festivals, with blackguard gibes, ironical license, bull-dances,         drinking, laughter, At the cider-mill tasting the sweets of the brown mash,         sucking the juice through a straw, At apple-peelings wanting kisses for all the red fruit I find, At musters, beach-parties, friendly bees, huskings,         house-raisings; Where the mocking-bird sounds his delicious gurgles,         cackles, screams, weeps, Where the hay-rick stands in the barn-yard, where the dry-stalks         are scatter'd, where the brood-cow waits in the         hovel, Where the bull advances to do his masculine work, where         the stud to the mare, where the cock is treading the         hen, Where the heifers browse, where geese nip their food with         short jerks, Where sun-down shadows lengthen over the limitless and         lonesome prairie, Where herds of buffalo make a crawling spread of the square         miles far and near, Where the humming-bird shimmers, where the neck of the         long-lived swan is curving and winding,   Where the laughing-gull scoots by the shore, where she         laughs her near-human laugh, Where bee-hives range on a gray bench in the garden half         hid by the high weeds, Where band-neck'd partridges roost in a ring on the ground         with their heads out, Where burial coaches enter the arch'd gates of a cemetery, Where winter wolves bark amid wastes of snow and icicled         trees, Where the yellow-crown'd heron comes to the edge of the         marsh at night and feeds upon small crabs, Where the splash of swimmers and divers cools the warm         noon, Where the katy-did works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree         over the well, Through patches of citrons and cucumbers with silver-wired         leaves, Through the salt-lick or orange glade, or under conical firs, Through the gymnasium, through the curtain'd saloon,         through the office or public hall; Pleas'd with the native and pleas'd with the foreign, pleas'd         with the new and old, Pleas'd with the homely woman as well as the handsome, Pleas'd with the quakeress as she puts off her bonnet and         talks melodiously, Pleas'd with the tune of the choir of the whitewash'd         church, Pleas'd with the earnest words of the sweating Methodist         preacher, impress'd seriously at the camp-meeting; Looking in at the shop-windows of Broadway the whole         forenoon, flatting the flesh of my nose on the thick         plate glass, Wandering the same afternoon with my face turn'd up to         the clouds, or down a lane or along the beach, My right and left arms round the sides of two friends, and I         in the middle; Coming home with the silent and dark-cheek'd bush-boy,         (behind me he rides at the drape of the day,) Far from the settlements studying the print of animals' feet,         or the moccasin print,   By the cot in the hospital reaching lemonade to a feverish         patient, Nigh the coffin'd corpse when all is still, examining with a         candle; Voyaging to every port to dicker and adventure, Hurrying with the modern crowd as eager and fickle as any, Hot toward one I hate, ready in my madness to knife him, Solitary at midnight in my back yard, my thoughts gone         from me a long while, Walking the old hills of Judaea with the beautiful gentle God         by my side, Speeding through space, speeding through heaven and the         stars, Speeding amid the seven satellites and the broad ring, and         the diameter of eighty thousand miles, Speeding with tail'd meteors, throwing fire-balls like the rest, Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother         in its belly, Storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning, Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing, I tread day and night such roads. I visit the orchards of spheres and look at the product, And look at quintillions ripen'd and look at quintillions green. I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets. I help myself to material and immaterial, No guard can shut me off, no law prevent me. I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns         to me. I go hunting polar furs and the seal, leaping chasms with a         pike-pointed staff, clinging to topples of brittle and blue. I ascend to the foretruck, I take my place late at night in the crow's-nest, We sail the arctic sea, it is plenty light enough, Through the clear atmosphere I stretch around on the         wonderful beauty, The enormous masses of ice pass me and I pass them, the         scenery is plain in all directions, The white-topt mountains show in the distance, I fling out         my fancies toward them, We are approaching some great battle-field in which we are         soon to be engaged, We pass the colossal outposts of the encampment, we pass         with still feet and caution, Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruin'd city, The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living         cities of the globe. I am a free companion, I bivouac by invading watchfires, I turn the bridegroom out of bed and stay with the bride         myself, I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips. My voice is the wife's voice, the screech by the rail of the         stairs, They fetch my man's body up dripping and drown'd. I understand the large hearts of heroes, The courage of present times and all times, How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless wreck of         the steam-ship, and Death chasing it up and down the         storm, How he knuckled tight and gave not back an inch, and was         faithful of days and faithful of nights,  And chalk'd in large letters on a board, Be of good      cheer, we will not desert you; How he follow'd with them and tack'd with them three         days and would not give it up, How he saved the drifting company at last, How the lank loose-gown'd women look'd when boated         from the side of their prepared graves,   How the silent old-faced infants and the lifted sick, and the         sharp-lipp'd unshaved men; All this I swallow, it tastes good, I like it well, it becomes         mine, I am the man, I suffer'd, I was there. The disdain and calmness of martyrs, The mother of old, condemn'd for a witch, burnt with dry         wood, her children gazing on, The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence,         blowing, cover'd with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, the         murderous buckshot and the bullets, All these I feel or am. I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the         marksmen, I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn'd with         the ooze of my skin, I fall on the weeds and stones, The riders spur their unwilling horses, haul close, Taunt my dizzy ears and beat me violently over the head         with whip-stocks. Agonies are one of my changes of garments, I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself         become the wounded person, My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe. I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my         comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they tenderly lift me forth. I lie in the night air in my red shirt, the pervading hush is         for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy,   White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are         bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd fades with the light of the torches. Distant and dead resuscitate, They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the         clock myself. I am an old artillerist, I tell of my fort's bombardment, I am there again. Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive. I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim'd shots, The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip, Workmen searching after damages, making indispensable         repairs, The fall of grenades through the rent roof, the fan-shaped         explosion, The whizz of limbs, heads, stone, wood, iron, high in the air. Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously         waves with his hand, He gasps through the clot Mind not me -- mind -- the         entrenchments.                         34 Now I tell what I knew in Texas in my early youth, (I tell not the fall of Alamo, Not one escaped to tell the fall of Alamo, The hundred and fifty are dumb yet at Alamo,) 'Tis the tale of the murder in cold blood of four hundred         and twelve young men. Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their         baggage for breastworks, Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemy's, nine         times their number, was the price they took in advance, Their colonel was wounded and their ammunition gone, They treated for an honorable capitulation, receiv'd writing         and seal, gave up their arms and march'd back prisoners         of war. They were the glory of the race of rangers, Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship, Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and         affectionate, Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters, Not a single one over thirty years of age. The second First-day morning they were brought out in         squads and massacred, it was beautiful early summer, The work commenced about five o'clock and was over by         eight. None obey'd the command to kneel, Some made a mad and helpless rush, some stood stark and         straight, A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart, the living and         dead lay together, The maim'd and mangled dug in the dirt, the new-comers         saw them there, Some half-kill'd attempted to crawl away, These were despatch'd with bayonets or batter'd with the         blunts of muskets, A youth not seventeen years old seiz'd his assassin till two         more came to release him, The three were all torn and cover'd with the boy's blood. At eleven o'clock began the burning of the bodies; That is the tale of the murder of the four hundred and         twelve young men.                                                 35 Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight? Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and         stars?   List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the sailor told         it to me. Our foe was no skulk in his ship I tell you, (said he,) His was the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or         truer, and never was, and never will be; Along the lower'd eve he came horribly raking us. We closed with him, the yards entangled, the cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands. We had receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water, On our lower-gun-deck two large pieces had burst at the         first fire, killing all around and blowing up overhead. Fighting at sun-down, fighting at dark, Ten o'clock at night, the full moon well up, our leaks on the         gain, and five feet of water reported, The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners confined in the         after-hold to give them a chance for themselves. The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by the         sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do not know whom to         trust. Our frigate takes fire, The other asks if we demand quarter? If our colors are struck and the fighting done? Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries,      we have just begun our part of the fighting. Only three guns are in use, One is directed by the captain himself against the enemy's         mainmast, Two well serv'd with grape and canister silence his musketry         and clear his decks.     The tops alone second the fire of this little battery, especially         the main-top, They hold out bravely during the whole of the action. Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the         powder-magazine. One of the pumps has been shot away, it is generally thought         we are sinking. Serene stands the little captain, He is not hurried, his voice is neither high nor low, His eyes give more light to us than our battle-lanterns. Toward twelve there in the beams of the moon they         surrender to us.                         36 Stretch'd and still lies the midnight, Two great hulls motionless on the breast of the darkness, Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking, preparations to pass         to the one we have conquer'd, The captain on the quarter-deck coldly giving his orders         through a countenance white as a sheet, Near by the corpse of the child that serv'd in the cabin, The dead face of an old salt with long white hair and         carefully curl'd whiskers, The flames spite of all that can be done flickering aloft and         below, The husky voices of the two or three officers yet fit for duty, Formless stacks of bodies and bodies by themselves, dabs of         flesh upon the masts and spars, Cut of cordage, dangle of rigging, slight shock of the soothe         of waves, Black and impassive guns, litter of powder-parcels, strong         scent, A few large stars overhead, silent and mournful shining, Delicate sniffs of sea-breeze, smells of sedgy grass and fields         by the shore, death-messages given in charge to survivors, The hiss of the surgeon's knife, the gnawing teeth of his saw, Wheeze, cluck, swash of falling blood, short wild scream,         and long, dull, tapering groan, These so, these irretrievable.                 37 You laggards there on guard! look to your arms! In at the conquer'd doors they crowd! I am possess'd! Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the dull unintermitted pain. For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and         keep watch, It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night. Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd         to him and walk by his side, (I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one with         sweat on my twitching lips.) Not a youngster is taken for larceny but I go up too, and         am tried and sentenced. Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp but I also lie at the         last gasp, My face is ash-color'd, my sinews gnarl, away from me         people retreat. Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them, I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.                         38 Enough! enough! enough! Somehow I have been stunn'd. Stand back! Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers,         dreams, gaping, I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake. That I could forget the mockers and insults! That I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the         bludgeons and hammers! That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion         and bloody crowning. I remember now, I resume the overstaid fraction, The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or         to any graves, Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from me. I troop forth replenish'd with supreme power, one of an         average unending procession, Inland and sea-coast we go, and pass all boundary lines, Our swift ordinances on their way over the whole earth, The blossoms we wear in our hats the growth of thousands         of years. Eleves, I salute you! come forward! Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.                         39 The friendly and flowing savage, who is he? Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it? Is he some Southwesterner rais'd out-doors? is he Kanadian? Is he from the Mississippi country? Iowa, Oregon, California? The mountains? prairie-life, bush-life? or sailor from the sea? Wherever he goes men and women accept and desire him, They desire he should like them, touch them, speak to them,         stay with them. Behavior lawless as snow-flakes, words simple as grass,         uncomb'd head, laughter, and naivete, Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes and         emanations, They descend in new forms from the tips of his fingers, They are wafted with the odor of his body or breath, they         fly out of the glance of his eyes.                         40 Flaunt of the sunshine I need not your bask -- lie over! You light surfaces only, I force surfaces and depths also. Earth! you seem to look for something at my hands, Say, old top-knot, what do you want? Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot, And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but         cannot, And might tell that pining I have, that pulse of my nights         and days. Behold, I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself. You there, impotent, loose in the knees, Open your scarf'd chops till I blow grit within you, Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets, I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and         to spare, And any thing I have I bestow. I do not ask who you are, that is not important to me, You can do nothing and be nothing but what I will         infold you. To cotton-field drudge or cleaner of privies I lean, On his right cheek I put the family kiss, And in my soul I swear I never will deny him. On women fit for conception I start bigger and nimbler babes, (This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the         door, Turn the bed-clothes toward the foot of the bed, Let the physician and the priest go home. I seize the descending man and raise him with resistless will, O despairer, here is my neck, By God, you shall not go down! hang your whole weight         upon me. I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves. Sleep -- I and they keep guard all night, Not doubt, not decease shall dare to lay finger upon you, I have embraced you, and henceforth possess you to myself, And when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell         you is so.                         41 I am he bringing help for the sick as they pant on their backs, And for strong upright men I bring yet more needed help. I heard what was said of the universe, Heard it and heard it of several thousand years; It is middling well as far as it goes -- but is that all? Magnifying and applying come I, Outbidding at the start the old cautious hucksters, Taking myself the exact dimensions of Jehovah, Lithographing Kronos, Zeus his son, and Hercules his         grandson, Buying drafts of Osiris, Isis, Belus, Brahma, Buddha, In my portfolio placing Manito loose, Allah on a leaf, the         crucifix engraved, With Odin and the hideous-faced Mexitli and every idol         and image, Taking them all for what they are worth and not a cent more, Admitting they were alive and did the work of their days, (They bore mites as for unfledg'd birds who have now to         rise and fly and sing for themselves,) Accepting the rough deific sketches to fill out better in myself,         bestowing them freely on each man and woman I see, Discovering as much or more in a framer framing a house,   Putting higher claims for him there with his roll'd-up sleeves         driving the mallet and chisel, Not objecting to special revelations, considering a curl of         smoke or a hair on the back of my hand just as curious as any revelation, Lads ahold of fire-engines and hook-and-ladder ropes no less         to me than the gods of the antique wars, Minding their voices peal through the crash of destruction, Their brawny limbs passing safe over charr'd laths, their         white foreheads whole and unhurt out of the flames; By the mechanic's wife with her babe at her nipple interceding         for every person born, Three scythes at harvest whizzing in a row from three lusty         angels with shirts bagg'd out at their waists, The snag-tooth'd hostler with red hair redeeming sins past         and to come, Selling all he possesses, traveling on foot to fee lawyers for         his brother and sit by him while he is tried for forgery; What was strewn in the amplest strewing the square rod         about me, and not filling the square rod then, The bull and the bug never worshipp'd half enough, Dung and dirt more admirable than was dream'd, The supernatural of no account, myself waiting my time to         be one of the supremes, The day getting ready for me when I shall do as much good         as the best, and be as prodigious; By my life-lumps! becoming already a creator, Putting myself here and now to the ambush'd womb of the         shadows.                         42 A call in the midst of the crowd, My own voice, orotund sweeping and final. Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women, household and         intimates, Now the performer launches his nerve, he has pass'd his         prelude on the reeds within.     Easily written loose-finger'd chords -- I feel the thrum of         your climax and close. My head slues round on my neck, Music rolls, but not from the organ, Folks are around me, but they are no household of mine. Ever the hard unsunk ground, Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and downward         sun, ever the air and the ceaseless tides, Ever myself and my neighbors, refreshing, wicked, real, Ever the old inexplicable query, ever that thorn'd thumb,         that breath of itches and thirsts, Ever the vexer's hoot! hoot! till we find where the sly one         hides and bring him forth, Ever love, ever the sobbing liquid of life, Ever the bandage under the chin, ever the trestles of death. Here and there with dimes on the eyes walking, To feed the greed of the belly the brains liberally spooning, Tickets buying, taking, selling, but in to the feast never once         going. Many sweating, ploughing, thrashing, and then the chaff for         payment receiving, A few idly owning, and they the wheat continually claiming. This is the city and I am one of the citizens, Whatever interests the rest interests me, politics, wars,         markets, newspapers, schools, The mayor and councils, banks, tariffs, steamships, factories,         stocks, stores, real estate and personal estate. The little plentiful manikins skipping around in collars and         tail'd coats, I am aware who they are, (they are positively not worms or         fleas,) I acknowledge the duplicates of myself, the weakest and         shallowest is deathless with me, What I do and say the same waits for them, Every thought that flounders in me the same flounders in         them. I know perfectly well my own egotism, Know my omnivorous lines and must not write any less, And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself. Not words of routine this song of mine, But abruptly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book -- but the printer and the         printing-office boy? The well-taken photographs -- but your wife or friend close         and solid in your arms? The black ship mail'd with iron, her mighty guns in her         turrets -- but the pluck of the captain and engineers? In the houses the dishes and fare and furniture -- but the         host and hostess, and the look out of their eyes? The sky up there -- yet here or next door, or across the way? The saints and sages in history -- but you yourself? Sermons, creeds, theology -- but the fathomless human         brain, And what is reason? and what is love? and what is life?                         43 I do not despise you priests, all time, the world over, My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths, Enclosing worship ancient and modern and all between         ancient and modern, Believing I shall come again upon the earth after five         thousand years, Waiting responses from oracles, honoring the gods, saluting         the sun, Making a fetich of the first rock or stump, powowing with         sticks in the circle of obis, Helping the llama or brahmin as he trims the lamps of the         idols, Dancing yet through the streets in a phallic procession, rapt         and austere in the woods a gymnosophist, Drinking mead from the skull-cup, to Shastas and Vedas         admirant, minding the Koran, Walking the teokallis, spotted with gore from the stone and         knife, beating the serpent-skin drum,   Accepting the Gospels, accepting him that was crucified,         knowing assuredly that he is divine, To the mass kneeling or the puritan's prayer rising, or sitting         patiently in a pew, Ranting and frothing in my insane crisis, or waiting dead-like         till my spirit arouses me, Looking forth on pavement and land, or outside of pavement         and land, Belonging to the winders of the circuit of circuits. One of that centripetal and centrifugal gang I turn and talk         like a man leaving charges before a journey. Down-hearted doubters dull and excluded, Frivolous, sullen, moping, angry, affected, dishearten'd,         atheistical, I know every one of you, I know the sea of torment, doubt,         despair and unbelief. How the flukes splash! How they contort rapid as lightning, with spasms and spouts         of blood! Be at peace bloody flukes of doubters and sullen mopers, I take my place among you as much as among any, The past is the push of you, me, all, precisely the same, And what is yet untried and afterward is for you, me, all,         precisely the same. I do not know what is untried and afterward, But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail. Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd,         not a single one can it fail. It cannot fail the young man who died and was buried, Nor the young woman who died and was put by his side, Nor the little child that peep'd in at the door, and then drew         back and was never seen again, Nor the old man who has lived without purpose, and feels it         with bitterness worse than gall, Nor him in the poor house tubercled by rum and the bad         disorder, Nor the numberless slaughter'd and wreck'd, nor the brutish         koboo call'd the ordure of humanity, Nor the sacs merely floating with open mouths for food to         slip in, Nor any thing in the earth, or down in the oldest graves of         the earth, Nor any thing in the myriads of spheres, nor the myriads of         myriads that inhabit them, Nor the present, nor the least wisp that is known.                         44 It is time to explain myself -- let us stand up. What is known I strip away, I launch all men and women forward with me into the         Unknown. The clock indicates the moment -- but what does eternity         indicate? We have thus far exhausted trillions of winters and summers, There are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of them. Births have brought us richness and variety, And other births will bring us richness and variety. I do not call one greater and one smaller, That which fills its period and place is equal to any. Were mankind murderous or jealous upon you, my brother,         my sister? I am sorry for you, they are not murderous or jealous upon         me, All has been gentle with me, I keep no account with         lamentation, (What have I to do with lamentation?)   I am an acme of things accomplish'd, and I an encloser of         things to be. My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs, On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between         the steps, All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount. Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me, Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even         there, I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic         mist, And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon. Were mankind murderous or jealous upon you, my brother,         my sister? I am sorry for you, they are not murderous or jealous upon         me, All has been gentle with me, I keep no account with         lamentation, (What have I to do with lamentation?)   I am an acme of things accomplish'd, and I an encloser of         things to be. My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs, On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between         the steps, All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount. Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me, Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even         there, I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic         mist, And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon. Long I was hugg'd close -- long and long. Immense have been the preparations for me, Faithful and friendly the arms that have help'd me. Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful         boatmen, For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings, They sent influences to look after what was to hold me. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it. For it the nebula cohered to an orb, The long slow strata piled to rest it on, Vast vegetables gave it sustenance, Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and         deposited it with care. All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and         delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul.                         45 O span of youth! ever-push'd elasticity! O manhood, balanced, florid and full.     My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets and public halls, coming naked         to me at night, Crying by day Ahoy! from the rocks of the river, swinging         and chirping over my head, Calling my name from flower-beds, vines, tangled underbrush, Lighting on every moment of my life, Bussing my body with soft balsamic busses, Noiselessly passing handfuls out of their hearts and giving         them to be mine. Old age superbly rising! O welcome, ineffable grace of dying         days! Every condition promulges not only itself, it promulges what         grows after and out of itself, And the dark hush promulges as much as any. I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprinkled systems, And all I see multiplied as high as I can cipher edge but the         rim of the farther systems. Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always expanding, Outward and outward and forever outward. My sun has his sun and round him obediently wheels, He joins with his partners a group of superior circuit, And greater sets follow, making specks of the greatest inside         them. There is no stoppage and never can be stoppage, If I, you, and the worlds, and all beneath or upon their         surfaces, were this moment reduced back to a pallid         float, it would not avail in the long run, We should surely bring up again where we now stand, And surely go as much farther, and then farther and farther. A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues,         do not hazard the span or make it impatient, They are but parts, any thing is but a part.     See ever so far, there is limitless space outside of that, Count ever so much, there is limitless time around that. My rendezvous is appointed, it is certain, The Lord will be there and wait till I come on perfect terms, The great Camerado, the lover true for whom I pine will be         there.                         46 I know I have the best of time and space, and was never         measured and never will be measured. I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!) My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut         from the woods, No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair, I have no chair, no church, no philosophy, I lead no man to a dinner-table, library, exchange, But each man and each woman of you I lead upon a knoll, My left hand hooking you round the waist, My right hand pointing to landscapes of continents and the         public road. Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you, You must travel it for yourself. It is not far, it is within reach, Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did         not know, Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land. Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us         hasten forth, Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go. If you tire, give me both burdens, and rest the chuff of your         hand on my hip, And in due time you shall repay the same service to me, For after we start we never lie by again. This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the         crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those         orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in         them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then? And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and         continue beyond. You are also asking me questions and I hear you, I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself. Sit a while dear son, Here are biscuits to eat and here is milk to drink, But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet         clothes, I kiss you with a good-by kiss and open the         gate for your egress hence.         Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum before your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every      moment of your life. Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore, Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout,      and laughingly dash with your hair.                        47 I am the teacher of athletes, He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the      width of my own, He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the      teacher. The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived     power, but in his own right, Wicked rather than virtuous out of conformity or fear, Fond of his sweetheart, relishing well his steak, Unrequited love or a slight cutting him worse than sharp         steel cuts,   First-rate to ride, to fight, to hit the bull's eye, to sail a skiff,         to sing a song or play on the banjo, Preferring scars and the beard and faces pitted with small-pox     over athletes, And those well-tann'd to those that keep out of the sun. I teach straying from me, yet who can stray from me? I follow you whoever you are from the present hour, My words itch at your ears till you understand them. I do not say these things for a dollar or to fill up the time         while I wait for a boat, (It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue         of you, Tied in your mouth, in mine it begins to be loosen'd.) I swear I will never again mention love or death inside a         house, And I swear I will never translate myself at all, only to him         or her who privately stays with me in the open air. If you would understand me go to the heights or water-shore, The nearest gnat is an explanation, and a drop or motion of         waves a key, The maul, the oar, the hand-saw, second my words. No shutter'd room or school can commune with me, But roughs and little children better than they. The young mechanic is closest to me, he knows me well, The woodman that takes his axe and jug with him shall take         me with him all day, The farm-boy ploughing in the field feels good at the sound         of my voice, In vessels that sail my words sail, I go with fishermen and         seamen and love them. The soldier camp'd or upon the march is mine, On the night ere the pending battle many seek me, and I do         not fail them, On that solemn night (it may be their last) those that know         me seek me.     My face rubs to the hunter's face when he lies down alone         in his blanket, The driver thinking of me does not mind the jolt of his         wagon, The young mother and old mother comprehend me, The girl and the wife rest the needle a moment and forget         where they are, They and all would resume what I have told them.                         48 I have said that the soul is not more than the body, And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his         own funeral drest in his shroud, And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of         the earth, And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod         confounds the learning of all times, And there is no trade or employment but the young man         following it may become a hero, And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the         wheel'd universe, And I say to any man or woman, Let your soul stand cool         and composed before a million universes. And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I who am curious about each am not curious about God, (No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about         God and about death.) I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God         not in the least, Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than         myself. Why should I wish to see God better than this day? I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and         each moment then,   In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own         face in the glass, I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is         sign'd by God's name, And I leave them where they are, for I know that         wheresoe'er I go, Others will punctually come for ever and ever.                         49 And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is         idle to try to alarm me. To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes, I see the elder-hand pressing receiving supporting, I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors, And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape. And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but         that does not offend me, I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing, I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of         melons. And as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many         deaths, (No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.) I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven, O suns -- O grass of graves -- O perpetual transfers and         promotions, If you do not say any thing how can I say any thing? Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest, Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing         twilight, Toss, sparkles of day and dusk -- toss on the black stems that         decay in the muck, Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs. I ascend from the moon, I ascend from the night, I perceive that the ghastly glimmer is noonday sunbeams         reflected, And debouch to the steady and central from the offspring         great or small.                         50 There is that in me -- I do not know what it is -- but I know         it is in me. Wrench'd and sweaty -- calm and cool then my body becomes, I sleep -- I sleep long. I do not know it -- it is without name -- it is a word unsaid, It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol. Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me. Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines! I plead for my brothers         and sisters. Do you see O my brothers and sisters? It is not chaos or death -- it is form, union, plan -- it is eternal         life -- it is Happiness.                         51 The past and present wilt -- I have fill'd them, emptied them. And proceed to fill my next fold of the future. Listener up there! what have you to confide to me? Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening, (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a         minute longer.) Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the         door-slab. Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through         with his supper? Who wishes to walk with me? Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already         too late?                         52 The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains         of my gab and my loitering. I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world. The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the         shadow'd wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk. I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags. I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles. You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.

Designer unveils ‘HOUSE OF DOTS’ – a five-room interactive house with an 8ft slide built with the help of 180 children and a group of passionate LEGO adult fans – to introduce new LEGO® DOTS

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   28 JANUARY 2020 – London: Artist Camille Walala today unveiled her most interactive work to date at Coal Drops Yard in London’s Kings Cross to introduce the entirely new 2D tile play concept from the LEGO Group – LEGO® DOTS.

To tease the new product, Walala was invited to bring LEGO DOTS to life in a free public art installation that celebrates their shared values of creativity, self-expression and accessibility, expressed through the vibrant colours and bold geometric patterns of both the new product and her own signature work.

The result is HOUSE OF DOTS: a fantastical house comprising five rooms spread over eight shipping containers, in which everything from the walls and floors to the rugs, frames and furniture has been customised in a mashup of LEGO DOTS and Walala’s distinctive patterns and colours.

  Playful and immersive, HOUSE OF DOTS invites people to journey through a living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and finally a unique DOTS DISCO room designed to celebrate self-expression and let the body flow freely with DOTS disco moves to a custom playlist from Ele Beattie. While they explore the space, guests are encouraged to get involved by designing their own patterns and bracelets – and even take elements away with them ahead of the release of LEGO® DOTS in March 2020.

If that weren’t enough, guests can exit via an 8ft slide down the side of the installation.

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Camille Walala, artist, says: ““It’s a joy to create a fun space where kids and adults can spontaneously express their creativity, make something beautiful and show off who they are. HOUSE OF DOTS captures all the exuberance and playfulness that people know me for, with something extra special: the chance to let your imagination go wild and create your own work of art. Oh, and a slide.”

  LEGO DOTS taps into the arts and crafts space by using a 2D tile-based play concept that offers children a creative canvas for self-expression. Based on multiple shapes and colourful tiles, it is supported by an exciting portfolio that ranges from wearables to room décor with surfaces designed for individual customisation and self-expression. To excite young creatives even more, over thirty mood tiles are also being introduced, incl. facial expressions, music note, cosmic planet, star night, paw prints and a rainbow pooh – and many more.

  Being based on the LEGO System in Play, there are limitless ways children can DOT their world, taking all elements apart and redesigning again to help build their creative flair and confidence.

  Lena Dixen, Senior Vice President and Head of Product and Marketing Development at the LEGO Group, says about the collaboration with Camille Walala: “We’re extremely excited to introduce LEGO DOTS as a new arts and crafts building concept giving children a creative canvas for social, self-expressive play with endless, ever-changing patterns, colours and designs. As someone who epitomises how confidence in your creativity can have a tremendous impact, Camille was perfect to collaborate with to announce it to the world. She has created something extraordinary and immensely fun that we can’t wait for our fans to explore and be inspired by”. 

  When creating LEGO DOTS, LEGO designers were inspired by internal research showing that kids are increasingly looking to shape their creative confidence through more personalised forms of play where they can explore freely and express themselves through their own designs. This particular insight draws on a quantitative study conducted with 10,800 parents and 7,200 children across the US, China and Germany, and among the participants a total of 21,600 play observations were mapped out and used to identify the relevance and concept direction of DOTS.

  The specific DOTS product development phase has since been further informed by monthly hands-on play sessions, biannual focus groups and quantitative tests across US, UK, Germany and Denmark with more than 500 parents and kids over two years, ensuring the design development aligns to consumer input.

  Fans excited about this new play concept will be pleased to hear that more 2D tile-based LEGO products are in the pipeline.

  HOUSE OF DOTS will remain at Coal Drops Yard January 28 – February 2 and can be visited by the public through sign-up here: https://houseofdots.eventbrite.co.uk. Kids under 18 years of age must be accompanied by an adult.

  -Ends-

The new LEGO® DOTS range available from March 1st 2020 will include:

Wearables

Rainbow Bracelet (RRP from: £ 4,99 / $ 4,99 / € 5,99)

Funky Animals Bracelet (RRP from: £ 4,99 / $ 4,99 / € 5,99)

Dark Unicorn Bracelet (RRP from: £ 4,99 / $ 4,99 / € 5,99)

Cosmic Bracelet (RRP from: £ 4,99 / $ 4,99 / € 5,99)

Tropical Birds Bracelet (RRP from: £ 4,99 / $ 4,99 / € 5,99)

Room Décor

Photo cubes – 3 animal cubes for picture displays (RRP: £ 99 / $ 14,99 / € 14,99)

Jewellery holder for e.g. rings, necklaces, bracelets (RRP: £ 99 / $ 14,99 / € 14,99)

Pineapple pencil holder                     (RRP: £ 99 / $ 19,99 / € 19,99)

Mini picture frame (no sale in Western Europe) (RRP: $ 3,99)

Booster bags – bags with raw coloured and decorated tiles (RRP: £ 3,99 / $ 3,99/ € 3,99)

    HOUSE OF DOTS Fun Facts:

+ 2 million LEGO® tiles used to dot the installation

+ 800 man-hours required to dot the installation

+ 150 square meters of DOTS structure inside the installation

180 creative children from Kings Cross Academy helped create bespoke wall installation for Camille Walala’s DOTS kitchen design

Eight passionate AFOLs (Adult Fans of LEGO building) helped dot the +150 square meters of Camille Walala’s detailed interior design including everything from rugs, artwork on the walls to plant pots and kitchen elements

    About the LEGO Group

The LEGO Group’s mission is to inspire and develop the builders of tomorrow through the power of play. The LEGO System in Play, with its foundation in LEGO bricks, allows children and fans to build and rebuild anything they can imagine.

  The LEGO Group was founded in Billund, Denmark in 1932 by Ole Kirk Kristiansen, its name derived from the two Danish words LEg GOdt, which mean “Play Well”. Today, the LEGO Group remains a family-owned company headquartered in Billund. However, its products are now sold in more than 140 countries worldwide. For more information: www.LEGO.com

    About Camille Walala

Born in France, based in East London and working worldwide, Camille Walala is an artist who takes joy seriously. Known for ambitious and large-scale interventions in public spaces from Mayfair to Mauritius, she uses the man-made landscape as a platform for disseminating positivity. Her work encompasses full-facade murals, immersive 3D installations, street art, interiors and set design – characterised by a fusion of bold colours and playful geometric patterns. Camille finds inspiration in community and collaboration, and the power or colour and pattern to transform atmospheres, elevate moods and spark positivity.

CAMILLE WALALA INSTALLATION TEASES NEW LEGO® ARTS AND CRAFTS BUILDING CONCEPT Designer unveils ‘HOUSE OF DOTS’ – a five-room interactive house with an 8ft slide built with the help of 180 children and a group of passionate LEGO adult fans - to introduce new LEGO…

Spiritual Birth

To be born spiritually means to awaken from the dream of death. To see as a perfectly obvious reality, that you are eternal spirit, the essence of everything. This physical world, universe in fact, is a place of constant change, decay; it is bound in time and bound by the laws of nature. A quantum physicist may describe the universe, from the largest mass to the smallest drop, as a soup of sub-atomic particles. I find it useful to imagine all of that quantum soup of re-cycling energy, including my own body, as being inside a large box. The box representing the physical dimension. Though as spiritual beings, we play our roles inside this box, as constant, eternal, non-physical beings, we essentially don’t belong to the box. We truly belong to the dimension of spirit, which is beyond space, time, sound, movement, the eternal now. Again I find it helpful to imagine that dimension as been a limitless world, like a sky of light, outside of the box.  Although it could also be seen as a parallel dimension. What is vital to realize, is that, all of  the ‘stuff; you see inside the box, despite its endlessly intricate manifestations, from oceans, stars, planets and trees, to the paper you hold in your hands and your hands, all of it is formed from this quantum soup of matter.   And matter, though we find it endlessly fascinating and beautiful, itself, in its most basic form, is not spirit.  And therefore the stars, the oceans, the trees and your hand do not contain the essence of spirit, which is love, peace, bliss.  Many people will argue that they experience profound peace in the presence of trees, oceans, nature, or through the vibrations of certain sounds or colours.  But all of that beauty, love, bliss that you are experiencing is actually, not in the music, the scenery, the profound words, it is in you.  And that is the only place it has ever been.  Places of nature, often allow us the stillness of mind, to move beyond fast and superficial thoughts, and to touch the essence within.  And as the beautiful feelings emerge, we often externalize it, saying, oh this place is so beautiful, or makes me feel beautiful.  However that place, which is ultimately beautiful is your mind, especially if that mind is in touch with your inner core. When I first heard the concept of being an eternal spirit, separate to matter, it was like a spiritual birth for me.  I felt like a bird being released from a cage after a long time.  I felt light and free.  It wasn’t so much freedom from the physical body or from the illusion of death, it was freedom from identifying with anything that wasn’t my true self, from the ego.  Things that had previously concerned me, my appearance, others opinions of my personality and my talents, getting ahead, or getting more stuff - in the ‘box’ just seemed to melt away in the presence of this powerful true awareness.    I had everything I needed, and it was within me, more so, it was me.  As an eternal spirit, we are neither born, nor do we die, but if anything could be described as a spiritual birth, it would be that beautiful moment of awakening to reality.  What is interesting, is that, this beautiful awakening of awareness didn’t continue in the same manner.  After some time it faded and previous ego fear-based thought patterns returned.  However a seed of truth once planted does continue to grow.    And once you have been born or awakened spiritually, you never really forget.  It’s like the world, the ‘box’ which previously had seemed a multi-coloured reality, has faded into a black and white dream, and the world of the soul, seems more real and more colourful.  This process of  turning gradually more inwards, can feel like dying and can be confusing.  Because for real spiritual re-birth, one needs to completely die to the old ways of thinking.  Just a physical birth is quite a dramatic event for the soul, spiritual birth is also dramatic.  For myself, I went from being totally interested in the world of drama, art and music, to being totally not interested.  It was as if it was totally tasteless and meaningless.  This can lead to confusion, as you begin to think, ‘who am I, if my tastes and preferences can so easily be changed’.  There can also be a crisis of purpose, where you may feel your job and life and all your previous ambitions have no meaning, and you have no interest in people, or work.  It can sometimes feel as if you are moving backwards and you wonder what will become of you, if you don’t find something to motivate you to get more involved in life inside the box.  Sometimes people react to this period of confusion by turning spirituality into a role, and seeing their purpose as enlightening others to their new found wisdom.  Thus returning to the box, just wearing a new mask.  This period dying or disinterest, may best be treated as a period of healing.  If you feel you have already had your moment of spiritual awakening, but are in the process of dying to the old, try not to resist it, or let the ego whip you into a frenzy of fear based action.   Just as you lose your appetite when you are ill, in the same manner, this lose of appetite to the world, isn’t a bad thing.  It is necessary for us to detox from our addiction to the box, or the thought patterns of the ego.  Let yourself be alone, meditate a lot, look after your body, sleep well, be gentle on yourself.  At some point you will feel a raising of your energy and enthusiasm, you will begin to get some inspirations, and you will regain your interest in life within the box.  However, it will have a very different flavour to before.  Before spiritual birth, asleep to ourselves as the source of all experience, we move from object to object, person to person, situation to situation, ever seeking to create the feelings of love, peace and bliss.  After spiritual birth, we experience the box, not as the source of our happiness, but rather an expression of it.  When one is ‘in’ love, the whole world seems a more beautiful place, in the same way, when you are spiritually born, you know and experience yourself as a being love, and therefore your eyes become loving, you see people as essentially innocent and lovable.  You see nature as generous and benevolent.  You see the world as you are. The period of dying, is essentially the dying of the ego.  Ego is the mistaken belief that you are anything outside yourself.  Yourself being the core spiritual being.  Therefore the ego can attach itself to your body image, your talents, your relationships, your life story, your beliefs and opinions, your emotions, and your personality.  How we can know that the ego is operating within our soul, is by our inner experience.  Ego thoughts, which are false thoughts create a disturbance in our consciousness, which we experiences as e-motions – ‘energy in motion’.  These emotions simultaneously create chemicals in the body, therefore emotions can be physiologically and psychologically addictive.   When we are operating from the ‘in the box’ consciousness we are essentially spiritually dead and the ego is alive and controlling us.  It is like being possessed by an outer influence.    And the sign of this, is becoming emotionally disturbed by the changes happening in the ‘box’.  Even excitement is emotion, caused by the illusion that you ‘won’ or will gain something.  The spiritual alive person knows there is nothing to win or lose and therefore doesn’t get excited over the changing scenes in the box.   This is why someone who has been spiritually born and is spiritually awake, will generally face life with a calm, balanced demeanor.  To the emotionally addicted person, such people may appear dull and boring.  However, they are actually truly alive.   When we stop living in the world of ego based emotions, and see clearly the illusive nature of the world of matter, our mind becomes calm, and in that calmness we travel inwards.  And in that inner dimension we touch the heart, the core, the essence, the source of all life, all love, all peace, all bliss.  And those essential spiritual qualities then flood into our minds.  These are what we call feelings.  So the process of spirit birth, is the process of finishing the ego and the emotions which the ego creates, and connecting to the soul and therefore living in the world of beautiful feelings.  And as we know from the teachings of the law of attraction, if our inner world is full of beautiful feelings, sooner or later, the outside world will begin to reflect that.   So together as more and more of us begin to be spiritually ‘born’, and die to the ways of the ego, the world ego will also begin to the die and a new world will also begin to take birth. 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These Celebs Are De-Stigmatizing Mental Illness

Many campaigns have worked to normalize the discussion around mental health (Bell’s Let’s Talk and CAMH’s One Brave Night among them). But one thing that really reaches the masses is when a celebrity speaks out about his or her struggle to spread the message that it’s OK to have mental illness; it doesn’t make you weak.

Anyone who has ever suffered from depression or anxiety—whether temporary or chronic—knows the feeling of wanting to crawl into bed and stay there until things seem OK again. And somehow when these celebrities who seem to have it all come out and say that they actually don’t have their shit together, it is encouraging to us. By focusing on their health, it normalizes the conversation and gives us the courage to take care of ourselves (and be vocal about it). One can’t help but wonder whether more openness could’ve helped musical wonders of the past who turned to addictions and those who had publicly documented breakdowns.

Below, see the celebrities who are helping to fight the stigma against mental health by being open about their own struggles. Want to learn more about mental illness? Here are 5 myths about anxiety and depression, and information about different types of treatment.

Selena Gomez

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I have a lot to be thankful for this year.. My year has been the hardest yet most rewarding one yet. I've finally fought the fight of not 'being enough'. I have only wanted to reflect the love you guys have given me for years and show how important it is to take care of YOU. By grace through faith. Kindness always wins. I love you guys. God bless

A post shared by Selena Gomez (@selenagomez) on Nov 24, 2016 at 6:21pm PST

In August 2016, Selena Gomez announced that she would be taking a break from her career to deal with anxiety, depression and panic attacks associated with lupus (an autoimmune condition from which she suffers). She made a return to the spotlight in November at the American Music Awards, where she delivered an emotional, heartfelt speech, briefly touching on her battle with mental health issues.

“I had to stop because I had everything and I was absolutely broken inside. I kept it all together enough to where I would never let you down but I kept it too much together to where I let myself down,” she said. “If you are broken, you do not have to stay broken.”

The songstress also opened up about her issues with mental health in the April 2017 issue of Vogue (which she covered). “Tours are a really lonely place for me,” she told the magazine. “My self-esteem was shot. I was depressed, anxious. I started to have panic attacks right before getting onstage, or right after leaving the stage. Basically I felt I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t capable. I felt I wasn’t giving my fans anything, and they could see it—which, I think, was a complete distortion.”

She revealed she spent 90 days in a mental health facility in Tennessee, surrendering her cell phone and taking part in various forms of therapy. And while Gomez is the most followed person on Instagram, she told Vogue she no longer has it on her phone, and an assistant has her password.

“It felt like I was seeing things I didn’t want to see, like it was putting things in my head that I didn’t want to care about,” she said. “I always end up feeling like shit when I look at Instagram. Which is why I’m kind of under the radar, ghosting it a bit.”

Camila Cabello

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#BGT  here I cooooome !!!! gonna b singing #cryingintheclub woooop

A post shared by camila (@camila_cabello) on May 30, 2017 at 5:06am PDT

Former Fifth Harmony member Camila Cabello made headlines in September 2016 after she left the stage early during a performance under the guise of a wardrobe malfunction. She later revealed, on Snapchat, that the cause was excessive anxiety, even tweeting, “just wanna sleep for 3 days.”

Cabello had already been open about her struggles with anxiety prior to the incident, however, telling Billboard that 2015 was a “low” for her, personally.

“I was having terrible anxiety, nonstop. My heart would beat really fast the whole day. Two hours after I woke up, I’d need a nap because my body was so hyperactive,” she recalled. “I was scared of what would happen to me, of the things my brain might tell me. I realized the stuff I thought was important isn’t worth my health. Now I write in a diary every day, work out and meditate.”

In March 2017, the Cuban-born star revealed to Latina magazine that she also deals with obsessive compulsive disorder. “It was just totally out of control,” Cabello told the magazine the magazine of her OCD. “I would wake up with a super-accelerated heartbeat and really negative, intrusive, compulsive thoughts. I was so inside my head, and I didn’t know what was happening.”

She continued, “I totally understand now, being in it, why there shouldn’t be such a stigma on mental illness, because it’s a pretty common thing for people. But you can get help. If you’re dedicated to making it better, you can—because I’m in a much better place now. I started reading books about it and it really helped a lot when I understood [the illness], and that [the thoughts I was having] weren’t real. Sometimes you have to remind yourself to slow down and take care of yourself.”

Zayn Malik

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A post shared by Zayn Malik (@zayn) on Aug 14, 2018 at 10:01pm PDT

In June 2016, former One Direction member Zayn Malik cancelled a U.K. concert due to anxiety. He made the announcement on Instagram, writing, “Unfortunately, my anxiety that has haunted me throughout the last few months has gotten the better of me. With the magnitude of the live event, I have suffered the worst anxiety of my career.”

Later that year, Malik revealed in his memoir, Pillow Talk, that panic attacks have stopped him from performing on more than one occasion. “I just couldn’t go through with it,” he wrote. “Mentally, the anxiety had won. Physically, I knew I couldn’t function. I would have to pull out.”

And while a member of his team offered to say he was sick, Malik insisted on being open about his struggle. “I was done with putting out statements that masked what was really going on. I wanted to tell the truth. Anxiety is nothing to be ashamed of; it affects millions of people every day,” he explained. “I don’t want to say I’m sick. I want to tell people what’s going on, and I’m not gonna be ashamed of what’s happening.”

Cara Delevingne

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The more we embrace who we are as people and rely less on our physical attributes, the more empowered we become. Beauty shouldn't be so easily defined. It is limitless.

A post shared by Cara Delevingne (@caradelevingne) on May 3, 2017 at 8:38am PDT

In 2016, Cara Delevingne took to Twitter to reveal she took a break from modelling due to depression. “I suffer from depression and was a model during a particularly rough patch of self hatred,” she explained. Later that year, she told Esquire she had been struggling with mental illness since she was a teen, more specifically, after she discovered her mother’s drug addiction.

“I was suicidal. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I realized how lucky and privileged I was, but all I wanted to do was die,” she told the magazine, adding a six-month break from school and medication might have helped save her life at 16.

However, Cara stopped the meds at age 18, saying “I get depressed still but I would rather learn to figure it out myself rather then be dependant on meds, ever.”

Adele

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Auckland / Mt Smart Stadium / Mar 25

A post shared by Adele (@adele) on Mar 25, 2017 at 9:41pm PDT

Despite being a 15-time Grammy winner, Adele still experiences stage fright. In March 2017, she admitted to her New Zealand concertgoers that she may never tour again, due to the ongoing issue. “Touring isn’t something I’m good at–applause makes me feel a bit vulnerable. I don’t know if I will ever tour again,” she told the audience. “I get so nervous with live performances that I’m too frightened to try anything new. It’s actually getting worse. Or it’s just not getting better, so I feel like it’s getting worse, because it should’ve gotten better by now.”

Lady Gaga

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🎉🎂

A post shared by Lady Gaga (@ladygaga) on Mar 28, 2017 at 2:18pm PDT

While Lady Gaga has been open about her struggles with depression and anxiety, it was only last year that she revealed she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) after she was raped at age 19. “I suffer from PTSD, I’ve never told anyone that before,” she said on the Today show in December 2016. “But the kindness that’s been shown to me, by doctors as well as family and friends, has really saved my life.”

More recently, Gaga opened up about her mental health struggles in a conversation with Prince William, as part of the royal’s Heads Together #oktosay series, which aims to end the stigma with the help of celebrities.

“For me, waking up every day and feeling sad and going on stage is something that is very hard to describe. There’s a lot of shame attached to mental illness. You feel like something’s wrong with you,” she told the Duke of Cambridge via FaceTime. “In my life, I go, ‘Oh my goodness, look at all these beautiful, wonderful things that I have. I should be so happy,’ but you can’t help it if, in the morning when you wake up, you are so tired, you are so sad, you are so full of anxiety and the shakes that you can barely think.”

But despite her hardships, Mother Monster told William “the best thing that could come out of my mental illness was to share it with other people.”

“I feel like we are not hiding anymore, we’re starting to talk, and that’s what we need to do really,” she said.

Demi Lovato

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A post shared by Demi Lovato (@ddlovato) on May 9, 2017 at 2:42pm PDT

Demi Lovato is one of the most vocal mental health awareness advocates in the biz. The former Disney star, who has battled drug and alcohol addictions, bipolar disorder, self-harm and an eating disorder for years underwent rehab in 2010 and in 2013. Now, Lovato is much healthier and is committed to ending the stigma against mental illness. In 2015, she launched the Be Vocal campaign as a way to encourage individuals struggling with mental illness to talk about what they’re going through.

“I think the more people vocalize what they’re going through—their experience or just simply educating themselves so that they can learn more about what they’re talking about—that’s going to be the key to creating a conversation about mental illness and making it more understood,” she told HuffPost. “There’s a lack of compassion for people who have mental illnesses and there’s a lot of judgment. Once you make people realize that mental illness can happen to anybody—and it’s not anybody’s fault—then I think they’ll become more understanding of what mental illness really is.”

Jennifer Lawrence

Photography by Steve Granitz/WireImage

Jennifer Lawrence opened up about her struggle with anxiety in 2013, telling Madame Figaro that she began experiencing symptoms as a preteen. “When my mother told me about my childhood, she always told me that there was like a light in me, a spark that inspired me constantly,” Lawrence told the magazine. “When I started school, the light went out. It was never known what it was, a kind of social anxiety.”

She eventually went to seek help from a therapist and turned to acting as a form of self-therapy. She also revealed to the New York Times that she manages her anxiety with the use of prescription meds.

Emma Stone

Photo by Steve Granitz/WireImage

Oscar winner Emma Stone told Rolling Stone in 2016 that she experienced bouts of anxiety and panic attacks as a child. “My anxiety was constant,” she said. “I would ask my mom a hundred times how the day was gonna lay out. What time was she gonna drop me off? Where was she gonna be? What would happen at lunch? Feeling nauseous. At a certain point, I couldn’t go to friends’ houses anymore–I could barely get out the door to school.”

She did reveal, however, that therapy and acting, specifically improv and sketch comedy, is what helped her work through it. “You have to be present in improv, and that’s the antithesis of anxiety,” she explained.

Chrissy Teigen

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My stoop buddy

A post shared by chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) on Apr 29, 2017 at 6:47pm PDT

Chrissy Teigen is never one to hold back, but she shocked fans when she penned an essay for Glamour on her struggle with postpartum depression. “I couldn’t figure out why I was so unhappy. I blamed it on being tired and possibly growing out of the role: ‘Maybe I’m just not a goofy person anymore. Maybe I’m just supposed to be a mom,'” she wrote, later adding “postpartum does not discriminate.”

Months later, Teigen finally saw her family doctor, where she got her diagnosis. She began taking antidepressants and is on the road to recovery. “I’m speaking up now because I want people to know it can happen to anybody and I don’t want people who have it to feel embarrassed or to feel alone. I also don’t want to pretend like I know everything about postpartum depression, because it can be different for everybody. But one thing I do know is that—for me—just merely being open about it helps.”

Troian Bellisario

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Thanks @coveteur I truly am a creepy eavesdropper. 😉 (📸 by @weston.wells )

A post shared by Troian Bellisario (@sleepinthegardn) on May 10, 2017 at 6:53am PDT

In November 2016, Pretty Little Liars star Troian Bellisario revealed via a voting PSA that she struggled with an eating disorder when she was younger. She said it was early detection and mental healthcare that saved her. “If I had just been shunned to the side as not having ‘real problems’, I don’t know that I would be living today,” she explained. “I just want to make sure that everybody has the same opportunity for treatment that I have, and I think that we have to make sure that our government invests in those programs.”

Now, Troian is sharing her story on her struggles with anorexia in her upcoming film Feed, which she wrote and directed. “It was not easy; it was like engaging with an addiction,” she told Interview magazine of revisiting her story, adding that working on the film was “like poking a sleeping dragon.” “One of the things I really wanted the film to explore was that once you have this relationship, once you have this mental illness or this disease, it never really goes away.”

And just like many others who suffer from mental illness, Bellisario says she feels like no one truly understands what she went through. “Still to this day, I couldn’t get anyone—even the people who loved me the most, even my boyfriend or my mother or my father—to understand what that experience was truly like for me,” she said. “It was about my eating disorder, and I found there were so many people who thought that it was about losing weight or being skinny, and I couldn’t quite get them to understand that it was about control on a very, very literal level.”

Gina Rodriguez

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My beautiful friend @antonsoggiu came to visit from Norway and he included me in his magical art. TEN SECOND PORTRAITS. It's always great to be in front of his lens but this time it was just me. Bare and exposed in the streets of la. No makeup. No styling. Just me. I suffer from anxiety. And watching this clip I could see how anxious I was but I empathize with myself. I wanted to protect her and tell her it's ok to be anxious, there is nothing different or strange about having anxiety and I will prevail. I like watching this video. It makes me uncomfortable but there is a freedom I feel maybe even an acceptance. This is me. Puro Gina.

A post shared by Gina Rodriguez (@hereisgina) on May 26, 2017 at 12:08pm PDT

Jane the Virgin star Gina Rodriguez got candid about her struggle with anxiety in a moving Instagram post. “I suffer from anxiety,” she captioned the video, which sees her makeup-free in a New York Yankees cap. “And watching this clip I could see how anxious I was but I empathize with myself. I wanted to protect her and tell her it’s ok to be anxious, there is nothing different or strange about having anxiety and I will prevail.”

Ariana Grande

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A post shared by Ariana Grande (@arianagrande) on Nov 6, 2018 at 7:11pm PST

In British Vogue’s July 2018 issue, Ariana Grande opened up on her experience with PTSD after the 2017 Manchester Arena bombing. “It’s hard to talk about because so many people have suffered such severe tremendous loss. But, yeah, it’s a real thing,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll ever know how to talk about it and not cry.”

In November 2018, the singer/songwriter dropped a single titled “thank u, next,” dedicated to all of her exes, including the late-Mac Miller (who died this past September of a drug overdose) and ex-fiancé Pete Davidson, which resulted in fans wondering who her therapist is. “Therapy has saved my life so many times,” Grande tweeted in response. “If you’re afraid to ask for help, don’t be.”

Sarah Hyland

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Velvet dragon scaled 🧜‍♀️ dripping in 💎 for the #goldenglobes @instylemagazine #instylewbglobes

A post shared by Sarah Hyland (@sarahhyland) on Jan 8, 2019 at 9:29am PST

Back in December 2018, Sarah Hyland opened up about experiencing suicidal thoughts after her body rejected a kidney donated by her dad. The Modern Family star, who has had a slew of health problems her whole life, appeared on Ellen and spoke about her depression.

“After 26, 27 years of just always being sick and being in chronic pain every single day—and [you] don’t know when you’re going to have the next good day—it’s really really hard…” she said.

“I would write letters in my head to loved ones of why I did it, and my reasoning behind it, and how it wasn’t anybody’s fault,” the 28-year-old revealed, adding that she was “very, very, very close” to taking her own life.

When asked how she overcame her suicidal thoughts and depression, Hyland said that she confided in a close friend (“I finally said it out loud to someone… just saying it out loud helped immensely, because I kept it to myself for months and months at a time.”) who urged her to see a therapist.

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