Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of
the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid
island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it
was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each
straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but
some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up
such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position
therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee
from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.
I am dead, dreaming, and in r'lyeh
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
Theosophists have guessed at the awesome grandeur of the cosmic
cycle wherein our world and human race form transient incidents.
They have hinted at strange survivals in terms which would freeze
the blood if not masked by a bland optimism. But it is not from
them that there came the single glimpse of forbidden eons which
chills me when I think of it and maddens me when I dream of it.
That glimpse, like all dread glimpses of truth, flashed out from an
accidental piecing together of separated things - in this case an
old newspaper item and the notes of a dead professor. I hope that
no one else will accomplish this piecing out; certainly, if I live,
I shall never knowingly supply a link in so hideous a chain. I
think that the professor, too intented to keep silent regarding the
part he knew, and that he would have destroyed his notes had not
sudden death seized him.
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
The first things people usually notice about me
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Help your potential matches find common interests.
That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
Without knowing what futurism is like, Johansen achieved something
very close to it when he spoke of the city; for instead of
describing any definite structure or building, he dwells only on
broad impressions of vast angles and stone surfaces - surfaces too
great to belong to anything right or proper for this earth, and
impious with horrible images and hieroglyphs.
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
The aperture was black with a darkness almost material. That
tenebrousness was indeed a positive quality; for it obscured such
parts of the inner walls as ought to have been revealed, and
actually burst forth like smoke from its aeon-long imprisonment,
visibly darkening the sun as it slunk away into the shrunken and
gibbous sky on flapping membraneous wings. The odour rising from
the newly opened depths was intolerable, and at length the
quick-eared Hawkins thought he heard a nasty, slopping sound down
there. Everyone listened, and everyone was listening still when It
lumbered slobberingly into sight and gropingly squeezed Its
gelatinous green immensity through the black doorway into the
tainted outside air of that poison city of madness.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
Cthulhu still lives, too, I suppose, again in that chasm of stone
which has shielded him since the sun was young. His accursed city
is sunken once more, for the Vigilant sailed over the spot after
the April storm; but his ministers on earth still bellow and prance
and slay around idol-capped monoliths in lonely places. He must
have been trapped by the sinking whilst within his black abyss, or
else the world would by now be screaming with fright and frenzy.
Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may
rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads
over the tottering cities of men. A time will come - but I must not
and cannot think! Let me pray that, if I do not survive this
manuscript, my executors may put caution before audacity and see
that it meets no other eye.
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