I wonder about Lugh's epithet of Samildánach, the master of all arts. The best at everything he chooses to do. It can be dangerous to see this as something to aspire to. We are only human, after all, and Lugh is a god. Who knows how long he has had to hone his skills. Maybe he spent an aeon at the harp, fine-tuning his fingering and mastering the melodies of the geantrai, goltrai and suantrai. Perhaps his skill as a smith was honed in the brazier at the heart of the world, or even the stars themselves. We, however, only have a paltry portion of a century to master the skills that mean something to us.
John Hunt Publishing, Magh Savage
There are no flowers for this.
AMORET & TOM
i. Retrograde / James Blake
ii. I Know The End / Phoebe Bridgers
iii. Serpent / Dwara & Alexander Vincent
iv. Fynbos / Alice Phoebe Lou
v. When I Was Done Dying / Dan Deacon
vi. My Body Is a Cage / Arcade Fire
vii. Blinding / Florence + The Machine
viii. The Deal / Mitski
ix. Time Is On My Side / Irma Thomas
x. The Beach / The Neighbourhood
xi. Neon Lights / Pim Stones
xii. Granada / UmaNADYA & COLETTE
i. A Pearl / Mitski
ii. Francesca / Hozier
iii. Can't Pretend / Tom Odell
iv. You Must Love Me / Lana Del Rey
v. Which Witch / Florence + The Machine
vi. Didn't Want To Have To Do It / Cass Elliot
vii. You And Whose Army? / Radiohead
viii. Sober II (Melodrama) / Lorde
ix. Infinite Love / Emile Mosseri
x. Hearts A Mess / Gotye
xi. Ascension / Sarah Kinsley
xii. Sparks / Coldplay
© Crierayla ✶ 2020
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Paper Confines
FanfictionYes, desire is so different / when God bore you hungry. TOM RIDDLE 2020 © crierayla