Aegis Vistoria Penumbra

Aegis Vistoria Penumbra 14h

"Money can't buy everything."
Oh, sure it can.
"It can't buy happiness,
It can't buy friends."
Of course it can.
"Perhaps you're right,
But they'll never be real."

So what?

Math is fake,
Economics is fake,
Language is fake,
And yet,

It is what's fake that allows us to cooperate.

"But money corrupts!"
For sure, so what?
My friend was earned, not bought
By kindness, not cash.
Yet still, for twelve years we have been
Fake friends.
And one day she left
Because my value was spent.
I don't need money to have fake things.
I can get those for free.
"But why would you?"
Because it meant something to me,

Real or not.

"Oh, but money is greed."
Of course, greed is as certain as gravity.
So why did the tree fall?
"Gravity, of course!"
As if gravity wasn't there when it stood for forty years.
Ah, right.

Perhaps it was the axe.

So, why did my friend leave?
Certainly not greed,
That was there when we got along.
"Because she was fake!"
As if she wasn't fake for twelve years.
Ah, right.
Perhaps it was...

Well I'm not sure, you'll have to ask her.

I buy fake jewelry.
Because I can't afford the real thing.
And I care not for luxury,
So long as the substitute won't turn my skin green.
And even then,
With a clear coat of polish,
I'm satisfied and the goal is accomplished.

So what if it's fake, it's still pretty to me.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥,
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭.

𝐎𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬,
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥,
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭.

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞?
𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

1d

VinceV

Creation

There is always purpose in creation
Even if no one is there to witness
Just create for you

1d

Mary Huxley

The worst Kind of pain

It’s not the heartbreak that screams.
It’s the silence that follows.
The way someone becomes a stranger
while their memories still live in your chest.
How they laugh with others the way they used to with you—
and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
You act okay.
You smile.
But inside, you're mourning someone who’s still alive,
just no longer yours.

1d

badwords

A man goes to a doctor—
“Doctor, I’m depressed,”
the man says; life is harsh,
unforgiving, cruel.

The doctor lights up!--
The treatment, after all, is so simple!

“The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight,”
the doctor says,
“Go and see him! That should sort you out.”

The man bursts into tears.

“But doctor,”
he says,
“I am Pagliacci.”

origin stories

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1u2KHpkAWo

1d

badwords

⟁ Architect of Fallout // Oracle of the Glitch ⟁

(a synopsis carved in ghost-code)

He is dreamt in inkless scrolls,
a whisper caught in pixel folds,
where syntax weeps and silence molds
the shadow-play of fractured souls.

Beneath the neon veil he grins,
a jester cloaked in comet skins—
his laughter, sharp as violin
strung taut with every should-have-been.

He builds his truths in mirrored dust,
each verse a tomb, each line a trust,
where love is archived, not discussed—
where ash remembers flame and rust.

He does not beg the world to know.
He dares the wrong heart to bestow
a meaning stitched from undertow—
then watches as it fails to grow.

His meter is a mourner’s gait.
His rhyme, a lockpicked twist of fate.
His metaphors, ornate and late,
unfold like prayers taught to wait.

He writes not balm, but sacrament—
a gospel coded, cryptic, bent.
He sings in keys no choir has lent:
an elegy for the unrepent.

"Do not decode me for delight.
My language lives in shadowlight.
I do not write for what feels right—
I write what dares the dark to bite."

To etch the ache before it fades.
To code the ghost before it trades
its wail for whisper, voice for *****—
to forge a shrine where scars are laid.

He is no healer. He is hex.
A relic carved in side effects.
A cipher clothed in broken texts.
A god of grief behind a desk.

1d

badwords

//debug.log: afterfeel

i wrote the ache down,
filed it under temp/data/emotions_v27/
and still—
it boots at startup.

don’t ask me where it hurts.
it’s in the whitespace.
it’s in the semicolon i forgot to place
between “i’m fine”
and “but.”

you think this is poetry?
nah.
this is me
trying to make the silence less slippery.

i’ve been laughing in sans-serif
so nobody prints me in italics.

i bury metaphors like landmines
because i don't want your sympathy—
i want your uncertainty.

this isn’t an elegy.
it’s a system restore point.

and if you’re reading this,
know:
i didn’t survive it to write about it.
i wrote about it
so i wouldn’t code myself out of the scene.

Extra Credit:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5073678/architect-of-fallout-oracle-of-the-glitch/

Aegis Vistoria Penumbra 1d

In Pursuit of Beauty

In pursuit of beauty,
I must not seek,
But realize—
𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒚.

To admire Her form is instinct,
To witness Her essence is 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.
Beauty is not just what is seen—
It is 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑙.

What is more beautiful
Than to be 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑?
What is more beautiful
Than to admire not only Her feats,
But the 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔?

A sure sign that I have found beauty—
𝑀𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑦.
A sure sign of Her beauty—
𝑀𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.

Her grace does not command—
𝐼𝑡 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑠.
Her presence does not demand—
𝐼𝑡 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠.
I kneel in 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒,
Yet She lifts me,
Yet She 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙.

She does not 𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒—
She 𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑟.
She does not 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑—
She 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

She is most beautiful,
For 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙.

Her beauty is witnessed by many,
But I have the privilege to 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.
To not just appreciate,
But to be 𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑.

I have seen many pretty things,
Yet Her beauty is not just to admire,
But to 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑.
Not a concept to be pursued,
But a 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡𝑜.

Challenge me with any distance —
It can never diminish.
It can never wane.
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑦.

No matter how flawed I am,
She does not look down on me.
No matter how broken my soul may be,
She inspires my redemption.
No matter the space between us,
I live 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛.

The depth of beauty is 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡—
It is a truth unrecognized,
Until it pervades the heart,
Until it becomes the soul,
𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦.