Temples are built for gods. Knowing this a farmer builds a small temple to see what kind of god turns up.
Death is a daunting and controversial topic in society.
Sure a lot of our generation may joke about death lightly in various memes or ‘lol someone just kill me, I wanna die from this failure I committed’, but when actually confronted with death, some people start singing a different tune. We’ve all been affected by it some way or another, whether it be the death of a friend, family member, beloved pet, or an idol you adored. Reactions and how we are, in turn, affected by said death is variable.
Some take it better than others, others reel and take a very long time to recover, but it is never easy when someone reaches that inevitable ending.
As such, death witchery is a road less traveled when it comes to witches. I won’t lie and say it’s an easy path to take on. Because it isn’t, death witchcraft is probably one of the most daunting paths of witchcraft one can choose. Working closely with death isn’t for everyone and can be quite dreary on the mind, but hopefully with this entry level guide, you can really decide whether or not you truly think death witchery is a path for you.
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📌 Камча́тка. Kamchatka Krai (Rus. Камчатский край, Камчатка) is this part of Russia –
At schools “камчатка” is also the last rows of tables in the classroom, where the rowdy and the D-students sit.
(There is a joke that Kamchatka teachers call those rows “калининград” (see that tiny exclave on the far left of the map? That’s Kaliningrad Oblast), but they apparently don’t)
📌 Шпарга́лка/шпо́ра – a cheatnote/crib. Cheating is pretty widespread in Russian schools and colleges and isn’t a big deal (except for state exams and certain teachers). Usually called шпора for short (literally “spur”, as in something you put on boots)
📌 Бота́ник – a geek/nerd/swot, literally “a botanist”. Also отли́чник/зубри́ла – “an excellent student” (neutral, not slang)/”one who learns everything by heart” (a bit derogatory, as is the first one)
📌 Дво́ечник. In Russia a mark you get in class is a digit from 0 (lowest) to 5 (highest) (0 to 10 in Belarus, 0 to 12 in the Ukraine). A D-students are called двоечник – “one who gets twos”, a C-student is тро́ечник/середнячо́к – “one who gets threes (the lowest grade you need to pass)”/”average”, and a B-student is хороши́ст – “a good student” (just because четвёрочник and пятёрочник don’t sound good)
📌 Кол. Единица (the mark one out of five) is often called кол even by teachers – “stake/pole”. Двойка is sometimes па́ра – “pair”, тройка – троя́к.
📌 Зубри́ть/зубрёжка. Learning things by heart is expressed in a few words and phrases:
учить (несов. в.)/выучить (сов. в.) наизусть – to learn (smth) by heart
зубрить – to learn something without understanding, to cram; зубрёжка – cramming
it won’t be like what you imagined. maybe you get the road trip to the beach with coffee in your hand and the radio playing, maybe you don’t. but happy shows up. it’s in a 2 AM game of jenga with your new college friends. it’s curling up for another marathon of netflix. it’s meeting the person who will be your best man at the wedding. it’s 4:45pm in the library when the girl in the study coral across from you quietly whispers “i’m going to set everything on fire” and then turns to you and asks if you wanna take a break for dinner (say yes, she’s very nice and you both need a moment away from the stress). it’s the mornings they have omelettes and in good books and in a puddle that looks cool. it’s sometimes picturesque, but more often it’s full-belly laughter at stupid things on the floor of your friend’s house while in the background someone is debating the best way to win settlers of catan.
i know it gets dark early now and the tired is setting in and everything sort of feels blank and hazy and you want to spend ages staring at walls thinking of nothing
but happiness will find a way in. it will be small moments. look for them.
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“[Russian Doll] probably has a more clear cut, one-to-one addiction metaphor, as far as the idea is deeply personal to me of going from a very disconnected, removed life [where] self-destruction makes the only sense because my behaviors don’t impact the world around me to a character who is by circumstance forced to look at this other idea, which is she accidents into a more connected life [and] realizes people are real, including herself. This is, of course, a much more vulnerable place to be at than this pseudo-punk rock idea of, “Nothing means anything and I don’t care. No one can touch me and I can’t touch them.” Just as soon as it crystallizes that we are of this world, then we have to be participating members — including the discomforts of the injustices that are a part of the daily news cycle that will rock you with their horrors and make you not want to go on because it all seems like to much, to the realities of life’s arbitrary nature and fragility. … Life is full of these moments and I think it speaks to the universal themes of discomfort and curiosity of the experience of what it means to be a thinking, feeling person who’s having these kinds of colliding thoughts. … It’s a very human experience, as well, to wonder what it’s all about.”
— Natasha Lyonne on Russian Doll and existential crisis (Interview)
I somehow can’t find this poem by itself anywhere on the internet? and I wanted to link to just the poem, so I’ve pulled it out. Originally from this post:
From one of Pete’s secret blogspots on August 13, 2008:
to you (unfinished, off the top of my head) It all started with some friends and a van a kick drum inside my ribs Preaching electric into a microphone stand Raise your red plastic cup And Turn the laughter up We fell asleep in the grass on the summer fest days You’d never guess I’m still trying to get my head screwed on straight All us believers still believe Everytime we sing “two more weeks” Someone shoulda thrown us in a cell and swallowed the key Somebody shoulda told us to leave em be The only news we tuned in to was the traffic update Nothing feels as close to home as nightime windows down on 88 Lax to berlin and back Wake up on the west coast inside a flask The good books in the drawer next to the bed you pissed in passports a blur, full of stamps from places I missed you in They’ll tell you everything about last night that you forget Pack your suitcase, joes in the back smoking a jazz cigarette They hated me before they ever loved me I’m not ready for things to change I miss you missing me in the good old days Got stuck in the cell of you and me I guess it still beat solitary ——-Worry worry Put my head in such a flurry Freckle freckle What makes you so special———- One of these days yr gonna wake up in heaven Laugh about that night you got four stitches above your eye when they let the guitars fly Never trust a band that wouldn’t bleed for you Never believe in anyone who wouldn’t drive through the night (To you) They never tell you in school you’ll feel so alone Wake me up again when were in the same time zone The way I’d take a cornfield over a coast Mulitply me times what you adore most There were nights between yellow lines When I confessed to you riding shotgun asleep under purple skies They say You get what you get Well we Got lost in the middle of nowhere And you almost quit Tonight Come together Come apart You can get lonely when u Only read the charts Called everybody I knew in this life Can we get it together just for tonite I miss old friends and “play it agains” Please Send my love, to everyone above
looking on the bright side ummm heneddie crazygirl partnership of our dreams ❓ eddie in the ambulance… driving the ambulance… running med calls… stethoscope eddie all the time… disgustingly competent… eddie performing Procedures… how many times will he say he saw it in afghanistan……
nasze zdjęcia w jednym miejscu omg. nie widzę co pisze klawiatura mi zasłania
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