This isn’t a stained-glass sculpture or piece of delicate jewelry – it’s a real live spider. These spiders, called mirror or sequined spiders, are all probably members of several different species of the thwaitesia genus, which features spiders with reflective silvery patches on their abdomen.
My role in the Temple of the Magi
The Carnival of the Underground Streets
Where one can play with their demons to reveal real truths while they dance around the edges of the blade.
I’ve been doing that dance nicely, don’t you think? I do.
Yes, I’m a bit of a boar with a dash of whore but at least I don’t feel the need to measure my dick, slap it up on the counter and measure it with a stick and discover who truly growls louder when they moan.
You see, I can be a bit of of bitch when I have to set my boundaries but you wanted to discover the truth of who I thought I was, didn’t you so you had to push it.
Why do people always have to fucking push it?
What is your motivation, really? To make a story good you must have really good characters; larger than life; engaging; just regular people like you and me, you see?
You fall in love with them in one way or another, if not unconditionally, because you accept them absolutely for who they are, be they Rock Star or Joker, or Dead Head, or Pscho-Delic Clown.
Or a bastard of a Raven; a bitch of a Warrior.
Here I am in your Imaginariam, your Strange Factory.
I saw all this in dreams. I really did. Whoever you are, don’t do it. Everything will be okay. I know this. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. Trust me, please. Your secret is safe with me.
'Tis my job, man.
To the rest of you. You make your own choices. Believe what you want to believe, I really don’t fucking care.
I just gotta get my own self square in the tunnels of the Spider Circus.
For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything…"
Friedrich Nietzsche (via feverdance)