I often spend time in the alleyways by railway lines—the type that provide a rat run behind houses—or on the narrow paths found in housing estates that somehow should not exist, and look like nobody ever walks in them; and here I find graffiti.
Graffiti like “2 genders” and “no more rainbows”—indications that, at a certain level, the standard narrative for Western regimes has been rejected. On the underground, the genderfluid case and LGBT+ have been rejected—it’s only subterranean, for now.
I walk up a steep mountain path, very rocky, and eventually I come to the top—at the top I see two trees filled with blossoms, perhaps cherry blossoms, and the blossoms fall to the ground. I think, “C
Yesterday, I posted the Gar rune to X as a video—surrounded by a playing card triangle. The video I uploaded spontaneously changed to the unedited version—and, even now, it refuses to play properly (o
There was once a man who was Odin—just like, in more recent times, there were men called Jesus, Muhammad, and Buddha. The latter three, being better known to us, are clearly men—they face the dilemmas