Lovely Day, Just A Little Talk With Jesus - Shirley Finney (Pray Again, 1979)
Lovely Day, Just A Little Talk With Jesus - Shirley Finney (Pray Again, 1979)
Hello simmers and followers!
Apologies for the long absence, I’m struggling through a lot of health issues since a long time back.
But that aside, I want to both grief and celebrate someone who left us a little while ago, and I dedicate this post to him. November 26th a dog in our family passed away, Yabbe. He is one of my mascots in my creations, and you might have found some of my creations with him on it. He was about to turn 11 years, and was the first family pet in my life, even though he belonged to my older sister. He has always belonged to all of us ❤️ He struggled a lot with his health the last year, but has still always remained really happy and simple about life.
He loved any food, all vegetables as well, especially cucumber! 🥒 Any time someone was in the kitchen he was right by your feet wagging his tail as if he had won a million dollars (or a million meals) (*^ -^*) and he could stand there for infinity in hopes of a snack ❤️🍝 He was very tiny for a chihuahua, many people would mistake him for a tea-cup. That was just one of many of his charms. He may have been old, but since day 1 of his life he has always remained a puppy in his behavior, he could play all day, every day for 11 years! He also had a very wise look on his face all the time, which made us call him a little Yoda sometimes ≧◡≦ Whenever he sat down he would never, ever sit straight with his hind legs, he would always slide them from the side and sit like a female model with his thighs, so cute! He always snored like a squeaky toy whenever he was asleep. Even when he was awoke and up, he would make these little piggy noises when he was walking 🐷 (though due to some septum problems, sadly). Growing older he lost more and more of his teeth, which made him unable to keep his tongue inside his mouth about 90 % of the time. He would always have his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and it was adorable ^^ 👅 One of his favorite toy was banana plushies, especially the ones that rattle and make sounds. When he had tared his banana somewhat, I would give him a new one, since I had some stocked 🍌 A couple of other ones of his favorites was a little plush heart with the words “I love you” on it, and one with the word “Kram” on it (”Kram” means “hug” in swedish). I think somehow he knew those words ^.^ We just could not get enough of this little guy, and he is dearly missed ❤️ But all those years with him was gold worth, and I am glad he doesn’t have to struggle anymore. Just lying on a pillow eating tons of food and playing up there! ☁️🍕🏐
This is just a little about him in a long writing, that celebrates him. And I will continue to celebrate his life by making more creations, mods and art with him in the future. Rest In Peace, Yabbe ❤️ Always loved 🌹
The Beatles Funk Orchestra Pt10.
What good is an immortal man,
if he roams the earth without an equally-infinite soul beside him,
If he falls in love,
again and again,
with every hello followed by goodbyes,
until he grows weary of his immortal heart,
burdened by the weight of temporary hopes and dreams?
New ep with @cam.jawson dropping soon 🔥💯💯 In the meantime check out the last one we did.. Entitled “Feel Good” #CamJawson #ZakkRiffle #ep #goodmusic #hiphop #soul #indie #music
#nujazz #hiphop #boombap #funky #soul #neosoul #djlife #breaks #rnbsoul #breakbeats #vibes #jazzy #dopebeats #jazzyhiphop #wax #blackmusic #hiphopsoul #funk #hiphopbeats #funkysoul #hiphopinstrumentals #electricsoul #boogiemusic #dopebeats #jazzfunk #downbeat #nujazz #breakbeats #rhythmandblues #downtempo #beats
Dionne Warwick - Don’t Make Me Over - Sheet Music Cover
I haven’t written anything in a long time and I felt like it so here you go.
The story is not fanfic and is original. Enjoyeth!
Word Count: 1200
Reading Time: 5 min
When people talk about death, it is often a serious conversation, a joke or a depressing comment. Most people do not want to die. Death is always the villain in the end. We see people talking about how death is a sweet release or how it is a harsh reality. We see examples of people who wanted to escape death, whether through fiction and fantasy of their own or stupidity.
Everything dies in the end, we all know this. The thing is people are afraid of death because we don’t have that sort of commitment. It is the end of all things. Whether or not you fear your own death or the death of others, it is considered the final stand, the last straw.
In many works of fiction or religious beliefs, death is a person. In Greek mythology, he is the God, Thanatos. Many people know of death personified as ‘The Grim Reaper’. In Buddhism and Hinduism, there is a belief of reincarnation, though this is to reach the final ending of Nirvana. So in all realities, we know there is an ending, whether it be Heaven or Hell, Hades, Jannah and Gehanna, Valhalla or Helheim. There is always the belief that it ends.
It is widely regarded that ghosts, zombies, vampires and werewolves don’t exist. And that is true for the most part. However, humans are strange beings, we have developed sentience. We have realised we are beings and have explored why and how. Simplified, this means we have gained a soul. When we die, we are split into three things. Our body, conscience and soul. Our conscience dies. And in turn, so does the body. However, the soul has a chance of not being split cleanly. Which creates a ghost and a zombie, or at least along the lines of the definitions humans have created. The small part of the soul that is left in the body forms a… sort of ghost within a body. This has no thought, no conscience, no mind of its own. The small piece of soul is too little to give it sentience. However, the larger part of the soul is tethered to this physical being. And they are left stranded on the human plane.
I was, unfortunately, a tethered soul. There was no way I could escape this earth. I had left my body behind years ago. It takes a long time for a soul to reawaken it’s dead. So the ‘zombie’ was trapped within its wooden box of a coffin. I had died in an era of violence. And so I had been buried among 50 others. Mass graves. I don’t know who I was. My name and life were lost to me. I had escaped the cemetery I died at, a spectre, I was not a whole so I could not leave. I knew my job. It was to find another, to give them sentience. There are only ever the same amount of souls in the worlds. Billions upon billions. They search for new life wherever it is. However, we are all assigned. When I died, I had a beacon, a place to find. I don’t know how or why. All I needed to do was follow it.
So I had been ripped from my body, but my death was not finished, I left a piece behind. The most important piece. The body I was supposed to inhabit next was gone. Or at least it had no soul. A psychopath. No feelings or emotions. I had done this to them. Still, I searched for them. That compass in my heart told me where they were yet, the final direction was off. Years passed in seconds, and minutes felt like centuries. Time was no longer relevant to me, yet it was.
The person I was to have joined would surely have died by now. Yet I felt this tug and overwhelming yearning. I was pulled through faceless alleys and decrepit streets. I knew they were here. Somewhere. A child. A grey and nameless child appeared, playing over a beautiful green park. It was the first colour I had seen in my time as a soul, the first human I had ever seen in my time alone. It did not have a soul. It was not a human, yet. I lunged for this being. I wanted to be again. To undo what I had done. Yet I simply phased through it. I was not here on this existence. I screamed in rage. The noise was not a noise yet the silence seemed to reach the child. Using their bare hands, they began to dig. The hole was not big, it was not deep, yet they had reached something. A box, something wooden. I screamed louder and louder. A voice that no one could hear except for them. The child had a match, I do not know where from. The flame sizzled into existence and I felt a heart race. My heart, so many hearts that were still trapped in the blistering abyss.
We had died of violence, we had been killed by hatred and war. We had all been stuck beneath this earth. Waiting for someone to free us. For us to find our body and mind. The blaze roared and I felt the trapped souls scream in joy and elation. Silent screams. They rejoined their soul and were gone within instants. To find themself. Finally, I felt my body yell in pain and anguish. My own soul was free. I remembered my name.
I had been Emily Yu-Ching. A former lieutenant, who had died a prisoner of war after a failed attempt to save the captives from a prisoner camp. I had been 32, a young woman with a bright future. I had a daughter and two sons. My husband had died alongside me. My thoughts flickered through my head, each moment clear in my heart. I remembered my first kiss, popcorn fights with friends. I remember, studying for the army. I wanted to save people. Do good in someone else’s life. I remember my daughters laugh, and her first cry when she had been born. I remembered my husband holding my hand as I went into labour with my second son. I remembered the tears I shed, the laughter, the smiles and frowns. I remembered it all. And then it was gone.
I joined my human’s body and mind. I was now Jiyu Tanatou. I had always been human, maybe without a soul but my soul had always been there, searching for me. Waiting for me to free us. I looked around at the scorched grass and ashes of so many souls. My mother ran to me, crying, she asked me if I was okay, again and again. I told her I was more than okay. She was familiar to me but in more ways than one. After she had stopped crying, she yelled at me. I had burned her mother. I told her I knew her mother. I told her I had freed them. She asked me if I was okay again and once more I told her I was more than okay.
I was home.
Ben E. King - I (Who Have Nothing) - Soul Sheet Music Cover From Italy
Fallow Ground - The Testimonial Singers (Love Covers, 1974)
I want to find God everywhere. In everything
my soul misses yours