Love for Lovecraft

Increasingly I feel like I have touched on the esoteric, I’ve found mystery and wonder in the world again.

By accepting that the only thing I can be certain of is my own perceptions of myself, and allowing everything else be up for debate, I’m finding more meaning in the world than ever before.

So for my last post of the day, here’s some love for Lovecraft… he was a racist mother-fucker, but his tales of existential horror are timeless.

“That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die…”



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