Hwæt!

þæt wæs god cyning

403 notes

Here at the Light Emporium we sell light.

Bottles of light.
Fluorescent lights and
streetlights and the light that falls
across the faces of your neighborhood buildings
at seven a.m. on a large march early spring
morning.

Purple and Green. Red and Black.
White lights — the ones you get when a car
is catapulting towards you at forty five miles
an hour. The near-death light. The DMT light.
All the ones that you can imagine — here: in little
glass vessels. Organized with the Dewey
Decimal System. 423 if you want to learn the language of
light. 700s to master the art of it. And 900: the history
of light, from the moment it was separated from
the darkness.

Buy them. Eat them. Stir them into your
morning coffee. Inject them straight into your
veins. Do you want to become the light? Here,
come to the Light Emporium. Where our sole

purpose is to give you everything
that takes away the dark corners that
keep you awake at night.

“The Light Emporium,” Shinji Moon (via commovente)

Filed under Poetry I like the notion of a light store queue hopefully

107,097 notes

bemusedlybespectacled:

if you ever think mythology is boring or serious business or whatever shit

just remember that cerberus, the hell-hound and guard dog of the underworld, comes from the root indo-european word ḱerberos, which evolved into the greek word kerberos, which got changed to cerberus when it went from greek to latin

ḱerberos means “spotted”

that’s right

hades, lord of the dead, literally fucking named his pet dog spot

(via tuulikki)

Filed under then it is a name with a long and noble tradition! (also...Persephone thought it was sweet when she found out) mythology queue hopefully