𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥.

Happy mensive, Sums

Mme mme

By the way, who's excited to join our upcoming open recruitment? 👀

We can't face Monday.

Why are yall cryin?

Good morning, Summies! Don't forget to grab your breakfast and prepare for the greatest war of the week, because this is a Mon-ster-day! 👻

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XI, Clergyable Reimmersion: The trees rise to the occasion, grass up through the palms donning eir apex verdant hues, Leuchanthemum and florals are blooming everywhere in the evergreen heathland, the scattered rainbow that they are as catching thermal updrafts. A burst of eldritch sunshine that twisted aurora borealis, one could liken it to a daemon's malice is a shadowed smile rather than some blind grimace, smear the sunshine as painted stars upon their oblivion château. With cheery echoes of crystalline jubilation and twirling along the ceiling, giving a new lease of life to the chandeliers and transparentizing all colors of the royal renaissance murals that drown out any conflicting emotion of mourning and betrayal to regret when they are alienated and broken, unable to deal with the world besides adoration, devotion, and awe—that they were going to undergo.

The seraphic symphony begins beneath the paling sky, whilst catching a glimpse of the interconnecting frames above, enkindles the southern summer-sweet breeze in the balcony accompanied by an ebullient chorale. A sacred emergence is writing itself in the morning mist, “Let the grotesque mid-summer festive begins.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ MIDSUMMER, 2023.ㅤ ☭ ˳ ׄ ៹
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ㅤㅤ ⚶ The sanatory solace vouchsafed,
ㅤㅤ on terrestrial warmth: MIDSUMMER.

A train of elation beneath the sunbeams where rivers of warmth entwined, an idyll sphere, for the venturous pilgrimage to glory. Numerous trajectories go ever on— that one troupe of juveniles stride in bold and beguiling steps, feeling a sense of pride in each one by caves where the sun has shone, by eyes that fire and sword have seen. Trails of merriment they imprint on the ground, traces of benignity can also be found; shall they compare thee to the first one of summer solstice’s day? Midsummer thou as tender as the winds flow by?

Stackars lilla Basse, 1912.ㅤ✢ㅤ“As though the sun had ever set?” ⎯⎯ For the wreaths and crowns, thorns and curls. Sacrifices, Majalos, Majdrottning— ättestupa, ättestupa.

The iliad is a tapestry, the odyssey is a quilt. Creatures of ethereal faeries, chanting in a malicious harmoniphon light-o'-love to merrily join the festive. “Come away, O, human child! To the floral blooms and the wild with a faery, takes place on Sankt Hans aften—hand in hand.” The hierarchies of Archangel crawl on loose wire filaments— soon will awaken the graffiti-petaled beauty, unscrew the sun from brilliance, fungal spores of obsidian daydream unfurl in the lungs, the saccharine taste of summer-infused breeze on the complexion.
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