#exploration Tumblr posts

  • A/N: I said I was gonna participate on this week, and I will. Even if I’m late. Learning french is tough business.

    June 30 - Day Three - Exploration - Reincarnation, Tales, Pirates

    (Exploration) Magma an Unsuspected Dreamer

    He’d never admit, how he hid behind huts, behind anything that could shield his little body from sight, only to hear the tales told by the priestess, stories that spoke of heroes and adventures. He’d never tell of how, when he was alone, he’d close his eyes and pretend just for a moment, that he was not himself, but a hero in one of these tales that the priestess told.

    Away from the village, but not too far, he’d wander around, with his head on the clouds, imagining a world of fantasy, one with dragons, beasts so big as the sky, of sirens, criatures so alluring that drowned all hope. And he thought at least in his mind, that he was a hero, strong enough to defeat the menace that breathes fire, of being capable of resisting the alluring songs. He imagined he could be an admirable man.

    Still, the truth was that he couldn’t be such a man, not really anyways. These were daydreams of his, a fairytale inside his own brain, an ideal. The closest he could aspire to be was the village chief. The closest someone like him –strong headed, with an unusually high level of violent tendencies– could get to be a strong hero, was the leader of his village, a title gained through violence.

    And then he came. The sorcerer. The scientist. Senkuu. The man with the village’s name. Magma had tried to kill the stranger that Kohaku brought. He got the wrong individual, and failed, killing both Gen and Senkuu, he failed both. Gen stood, so certain on top of a roof, claiming to be putting a curse in him. His rational side, said it was a lie, obviously magic was not a real thing. The irrational bit of Magma that dreamed, the one that wished to be a hero, rooted him in place.

    Senkuu won, and divorced Ruri, and stole their alcohol, and healed Ruri, and begun to create new things that they hadn’t had before. Senkuu came and put their little world upside down with ease.

    Going to a cave was not fun, it was dark and moist, and the trip exhausting. It was really weird, going in adventures through places you’d never been before was different than his mind had provided. It was the first time, he actually attempted to be a hero, too. He’d only ever toyed with the idea, resigned himself to get things through force, after all that’s how you survive in the stone world. Except, it wasn’t the stone world anymore, not in it’s entirety. All thanks to the stranger with the name Ishigami.

    Perhaps, Magma didn’t have to be just a brute who leads the village. Perhaps he could be more. If he follows the hero that put the stone world on a countdown to become modern again.

    Also on fanfiction:


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    I awoke                                                                                                                         

                                                                                            from a late morning nap, sleepy                                                     and                                                   groggy, my mind still filled 

    with the gossamers 

    of insomnia, 

    fogging up my vision. 

    I pushed back the blankets and                                                                             

      carefully made my way down                                                     

    from my bunk, Bunk 59-A to be specific,                                          

    and walked over to the bathroom        

                       area to conduct my business.

    The sun was shining brightly

     as the skies blazed 

    in a vibrant hue of blue;                  

    another glorious and cloudless day,                                           

    the kind of day one imagines 

    as a perfect summer day. 

    The rays of light       shine through                the windows;                 golden blades of                   steely light                       crossing over                 my path as if                           I was some                     scantily                             dressed assistant                    to some                          eccentric                        magician, preparing               to send                         me through               a dangerously convoluted          contraption                    of a trick                                 which involves                            me                          being                                   sawed in half; cleaved in two; sliced                                                             and diced; chopped and scalloped                                                                  and shredded, yet remaining                                                                                             perfectly intact the entire time; the revelation of the obstacle as I make my way to the other end of the gauntlet

     completely untouched unharmed, 


    the same as I was in the first place:                        an inmate in blue; shades

     of blue; sky and midnight and                  navy varieties; layers of sadness; 

    of sorrow; of grief; of regret; of remorse;          of anger; of frustration; of

     dysfunction; of revenge; of hate; of loss; of                         degradation; of

     schisms; or raptures; of discrimination; of pain;               of hopelessness;

     of not having enough words to describe the situation to everyone, but at least they didn’t choose red.

    Although I would                     have had a lot of fun 

    with the old school                  striped from the past: 

    adding some                                            stars to them, 

    turning myself into     a      walking representation 

    of the country                                               these days; 

    bars                                   and                                  gripes. 

    Anyways, I was getting distracted from what I was telling you, the whole point of this tale.

    I was returning to my bunk,                                                    

    having completed my task                                                                                       

    and was preparing to                                                                                                

    climb back up and maybe                                                                                       

    read a book to help pass the time,                                                                         

    when something,                                                                                                       

                                                                                                          let’s say, peculiar, 

    caught my eye;                                                                                                            

    something out of                                                                                           place; 

    something                                                                                that didn't 


        and I don’t just mean within the confines of a prison, but in the     confines of this planet, this Galaxy even, this plane of existence.

        Letting go of my bunk’s ladder, I made my way over to the     impossible, the curiosity which had ensnared my attention. The     strangest thing, which I was not at all prepared to understand, and yet     was there in the middle of the pathway between the endless rows of     bunks; in the middle of the normality of the mundane, floated a crack.

        That’s right: a     crack, like the kind you’d find on the sidewalk; removed and    suspended in the air like a feather caught in a spider’s web. A sundering in        reality, simply hanging there like a Christmas ornament, but the oddest            thing about it was its three-dimensionality, and the fact         that no one else seemed to notice it, or that I was even     examining it, as if I had been rendered invisible through a trickery of                             optics just by drawing my attention to it.

    It was a sliver of light that   shimmered from all directions. A hole from

     every side. I leaned in          closer, but could only see the white radiance

     from within. I leaned in              even closer and it pulsed. I gasped; it

     pulsed again; I held my                  breath; it pulsed once more. Daring 

    reason to stay with me,                          I raised my arm and did what any 

    science-likened mind                  would do, and stuck my finger in it, 

    batting caution to the           wind. I mean, what’s the worst that could

     happen? There’s already a three-dimensional crack floating before

     me, yet unlike a black             hole, it isn’t pulling me in, and everything

     else for that matter, save     for me curiosity. It was a perpetual white 

    hole of sorts, breaking     all of the known laws of physics.


    my entire hand had been stuck inside and, 

    despite its radiant,

     near heavenly brilliance, 

    it felt cool on the other side of, 

    whatever it was. 

    It was not ominous, 

    or deathly cold mind you, 

    but rather refreshing and crisp,

     like the ideal Spring morning. 

    It was invigorating in a way, 

    feeling a sort of exciting and lovely electricity 

    dance over the surfaces of my skin; 

    microscopic sparks jumping 

    between the fine hairs of my hand, 


    a tingling


    up my arm

     and gleefully

     registering in 

    the synapses 

    of my brain. 

    Strange doesn’t even begin to describe it.

    I soon                       realized                     that my arm had been                    engulfed in                        this riven                             in the air, and had grown to accommodate the larger                  appendage which had entered it, although its general                      shape remained the same. Slowly, I attempted to                                   pull my arm back out, only to find it stuck, not immobile,           but more akin to being in a tar pit or a dumpster filled with grease            and fat from a liposuction clinic; it was a mucus like substance,        which made it harder and harder to move my arm, until its                                 resistance overcame my own strength.

                                                                                                 Panic crept into me slowly like a quietly rising tide                                                               on a serene beach. I tried to pull myself out once again, budging an inch or two, only to                            be lured back more than I had pulled out. This continues               until my shoulder was against the shimmering threshold. For      some reason I thought that this must be what fish feel when they see                                                                                   our brightly colored lures.


     to give freedom 

    one final shot, I pulled 

    with all of my remaining 

    strength to see if I can break 

    away, but it’s all futile. I can’t even

     move an inch. Yet curiously, I didn’t

     sink in further either. Maybe this is as far as it

     goes, I tell myself with some inkling of hope, even though

     my arm feels nothing but the persistent numbing sensation of 

    nothingness on the other side of this magnificently terrifying anomaly.

     The more I think about HOW this is possible, the deeper I stumbled 

    down Alice’s rabbit hole.

    Resigned to the fact that I      couldn’t liberate myself from this thing, I opted to cry for help, but     before I could even squeak a word, something grabbed a hold of       my arm and tugged me with such force that I am pulled into the             crack of light with relative ease and the grace of a stumbling ballerina      trying desperately to catch themselves as they saunter off to the           background: Exit Stage Right.

    For whatever reason,                        I closed my eyes as I was pulled in; it’s a natural reaction,               I’m sure you can relate to. When I opened them once again, I found          myself afloat; drifting; gliding through and alien sky, a spatial dimension                 I never dared to imagine, full of strangely colored stars and                   queerly constructed planets that seemed to have more in                    common with a round, cat’s eye marble than                               anything else.

    Below me,                                               

                                                           I found a sun of wonderful proportions, 

                                                           making it difficult to tell how far away I 

                                                             was from it. All I knew was that it took 

                                                              up nearly the entirety of my view. The 

                                                            most peculiar aspect of it though was its 

                                                                color: purple, a deep, cool purple; the 

                                                     kind of purple fit for a king, regal and royal. 

                                  My attention was completely absorbed by its sheer 

                    weirdness,                    and let’s be honest here,                     what hasn't                                been weird                          about                       this whole                                            ordeal? that                                       I failed to notice a                                  different fiery,                                       albeit smaller in                           cosmic terms, ball of fury                            speeding                            towards my                                                        general                                                                                direction.


                                                                The fact that I didn’t have a space suit 

                                                               on didn’t bother me at all, yet the fact 

                                                               that a planet-sized orb of blue flames was

                                                          rushing to little old me, did. It most

                   terrifyingly did.

    I flailed              and flopped,                                       kicked and paddled, 

                                                         but nothing 

    seemed to work: 

    I was             stuck in the                 bullseye of this                 cosmic dartboard,                        face                         to                                     face with the 





    the stampeding annihilation; 

    the marauding obliteration of myself,

    ready to be erased from existence, 

    all because of my curiosity in a miniscule 

    crack                                                          of                                                       light

     caught suspended in the air.

    The blue dwarf star was now                                    directly in front of me, taking up my 

    entire field of vision.    I was                                                             nowhere near ready to die, but I was ready to

     face it nonetheless.                                                     Closer and closer it got; I could                                            imagine its infernal

     roar; its rage; its fury, as it                              approached, though why I thought                                                it was 

    angry I did not know. I guess                                                                       we’re taught to assume                                                     if you’re inflamed, 

    you            must              be                 angry.

                                                 It is very close now. 

    Closer than one could                                                  possibly be to a star,

     but then again,                                                   

    here I was, floating in the vacuum         of space, about to

     be taken out like an astronomical bowling pin.


    was no longer a part of my                      

     vocabulary at this point.

    I closed                                      my eyes                                                                   and spread out                                              my arms and                                    legs, praying to whatever 

    God or gods

     there may be here for

     a quick and 

    painless death.

     I can feel the sparks of flame kissing the surfaces of my skin. It is so 

    close now. And as I prepared myse—


    I sprung up from my bed to find myself in my bunk.

    A dream.

    It was all a dream.

    At least my bed isn’t wet.

    The day has still only begun and nothing has been done. Something                                                                                                                        tells me this                                                                                                                   is going to                                                                                                       be a really long day.


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  • Guess the movie!




    #instagram #comedy #exploration #crutechtv #explore #exploring #explorepage #exploremypage #exploremore #crutektv #trending #shitpost #wasafi #tanzania #haijakaasawa #mbosso #afrobeat #nwe #afrobeats
    #blacklivesmatter #mad #mads #update #Codedworld #CodedUpdate #Music #Fans #Arewa

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  • W A T E R F R A M E
    inframe : @elebones @elite_poet
    Choreo : @elite_poet
    Vs : @kishan_creates
    Ve : @kishan_creates
    #bodypoetry #movement #art #dance #dancers #indiandancers #indianart #movementlifestyle
    #artistical #artistry #arts #bodyart #origami #original #patterns #postures #exploration #meraki #dancelife #likeminded #fresh #movers #culture #movementartists #creative #createdaily #Elite #azad #kishancreates

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