slayer of argus is hermes’ most used title. zeus was fucking around with io behind hera’s back; he turned io into a heifer to hide her. hera set argus, a many-eyed giant—two eyes always awake while the others slept—to guard io. at zeus’ request, hermes first charmed argus to sleep then killed him

alpha is for argeiphontes

every night I take the sun by the hand and lead it through the underworld back towards the morning

now that’s philosophy, baby

dyed some paper. pretty cool huh

sometimes i think, well, i seem to be stuck in the present, i might as well enjoy it a little

the birth of rattus

i thought about posting the books i read this year and then i looked at the to be read pile and realised it would reveal to everyone how profoundly boring i am. so i won’t. that way you can continue to imagine me having exciting reading adventures

i like making stuff because now whenever i don’t know what to do with myself i can just stand in my kitchen and look at this bowl i made

Done. Next time you see this it will be shining down on sandy boulevard, the aorta of east Portland

the first test print: alpha is for argeiphontes

can’t stop thinking about Rabelais’ last words, “I am going to seek the great perhaps”

i have now learned to darn. so lmk if you find any holes in the fabric of space-time that need repairing

sorry i haven’t been online much. it’s the usual explanation. i’ve been learning the greek alphabet by carving 24 lino plates that i will bind into an abecedary of epithets for hermes. we’ve all been there

hell yeah email time

guide

visitor

the birth of rattus

if I identify with anyone from the past it’s the first guy who was like “I’m gonna casually smash this stone” and then found a whole glittering universe of crystals inside it

dragon in a box

some nights you dream in your head. some nights you dream in your belly. the belly dreams are harder to remember but are so much more sloshing and delicious

radiant axolotls

I am a small place in the world into which feelings slosh

lowering my heart down on the end of a rope to see how deep the possible really is

carrying a rock around with me for those times when I really need to touch a rock

presenting: the 17th century spork

Public transport? That’s when you and fellow-man are conveyed from one place to the next in harmony? They don’t let the train leave until everyone is holding hands?

infuriating all the scientists by telling them everything is poetry and infuriating all the poets by telling them everything is science and being right both times

you can kill me in a lot of ways that matter

lovebugs

Love the world like it can't break you, like it's the sky and you're an oak. Love the world with every wrought iron detail in your heirloom heart

this dog is just one dog stacked up in a trenchcoat

wake up, stretch, and reveal your soft, vulnerable underbelly to the day’s teeth

no man's land for old men

@sadiston.bsky.social I am yet again doing the thing (watching the crow (1994))

the moon should compare us to stuff for once

gravity isn't real. it's the dirt that wants you

a small dragon that perches above me while I sleep, and snaps bad dreams out of the air before they can burrow into my ears. I hear a crunch as I drift back to sleep. in the morning they sleep, their belly full of my darkness

I will go so freaking far around. you won’t even believe it. no way in hell I’m going through

I hope my therapist has a highly successful webcomic where she mocks all the dumb faces I make during therapy

pretending I’m reading my book so the rain thinks I’m cool but really I’m just listening to the rain

if I woke up and was suddenly a beetle I would simply take a turn at rolling the sun up into the sky so the dung beetle could have a break

[grumpily, hands in pockets] how much cooler could I possibly be, I’m already made of dirt and electric magic

the raven’s view

dracula is the dr—you’re talking about acula’s monster

I have a few of these for sale, you can dm me on discord if you want one please and thank you

The rats have been introduced to religion. Pamphlets left drifting in gutters have run down into their dark wet homes. They read them. They collected them into books. They gather underground at night and sing, their hideous voices rising up in praise to a God they will never understand.

I’m doing okay. for a ghost. sometimes I manage to move a cup around

popcorn mythology tells of the hero who escapes to the promised land behind the stove