And before your children and their father
had gone any distance from the palace,
she took the richly embroidered gown
and put it on, then arranged the golden crown,
fixing it in her hair at a bright mirror,
smiling at her body’s lifeless image there.
Then she stood up from her seat and strolled
across the room, moving delicately
on her pale feet, delighted with the gifts,
with a great many glances to inspect
the straightness of the dress against her legs.
But then it happened—a horrific sight.
She changed colour, staggered back and sideways,
trembling, then fell into her chair again,
almost collapsing on the floor. An old woman,
one of her servants, thinking it was a fit
inspired by Pan or by some other god,
shouted in festive joy, until she saw
the white spit foaming in her mouth, her eyes
bulging from their sockets, and her pale skin
quite drained of blood. The servant screamed again—
this time, to make up for her former shout,
she cried out in distress. Another slave
ran off at once towards her father’s palace,
and another to the girl’s new husband
to tell him the grim fate his bride had met.
The whole house rang with people’s footsteps,
as they hurried back and forth. By the time
it would take a fast runner to complete
two hundred yards and reach the finish line,
her eyes opened—the poor girl woke up,
breaking her silent fit with a dreadful scream.
She was suffering a double agony—
around her head the golden diadem
shot out amazing molten streams of fire
burning everything, and the fine woven robe,
your children’s gift, consumed the poor girl’s flesh.
She jumped up from the chair and ran away,
all of her on fire, tossing her head, her hair,
this way and that, trying to shake off
her golden crown—but it was fixed in place,
and when she shook her hair, the fire blazed
twice as high. Then she fell down on the ground,
overcome by the disaster. No one
could recognize her, except her father.
Her eyes had lost their clear expression,
her face had changed. And there was blood
on top her head, dripping down, mixed with fire.
The flesh was peeling from her bones, chewed off
by the poison’s secret jaws, just like resin
oozing from a pine tree. An appalling sight!
Everyone was too afraid to touch the corpse—
what we’d seen had warned us. But her father,
poor wretch, didn’t know what she’s been through.
He came unexpectedly into the house
and stumbled on the corpse. He cried aloud,
embraced his daughter, and kissed her, saying,
“My poor child, what god has been so cruel
to destroy you in this way? Who’s taken you
away from me, an old man near my death?
Oh my child, I wish I could die with you.”
He ended his lamenting cries. But then,
when he tried to raise his old body up,
he was entangled in that woven dress,
like ivy wrapped around a laurel branch.
He struggled dreadfully, trying to get up
onto his knees, but she held him down.
If he used force, he tore his ancient flesh
clear off his bones. The poor man at last gave up.
His breathing stopped, for he couldn’t stand the pain
a moment longer. So the two of them lie dead—
the daughter, her old father, side by side.
—Medea by Euripedes
[this is one of my favorite scenes from a play]
I catch my breath, the one you took the moment you entered the room.
—He is We
Okay…. so you know one pose that girls make on facebook where they’re standing with weight on one leg, torso to the side, hand on one hip and head cocked with their hair falling to one side with the dorkiest smile ever? Yeah, that pose bugs the crap out of me. Stahp et.
When you hear a song and know it’d make sense coming from a person you don’t talk to anymore for a reason.
I honestly think that crying over a book is one of the most prominent sign of compassion for humanity. You’re crying over someone who isn’t really there, doesn’t really exist, but you still feel for them as if you have known them your entire life.
Yes! I even cried for a completely fictional alien race. But I think that’s only the case because they were depicted in a relatable, humane way by the author in the end.
GUYS MY SCHOOL DID A LIVE-ACTION VERSION OF THE INTRO FOR DISNEY’S RECESS FOR A CLOSING ASSEMBLY HELP
This has made my day.
Omfg omfg omfg
This is the best thing ever!
your school needs to make a full episode of this!!!
editing photoshoot photos
o.0 Did I just see you or your doppleganger in the hallway at PCC?
Honestly, do yourself a favor and stop being an ass. Life for you will be much happier. :)
I tell him about maybe starting the insanity workout because I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my body, and he says this:
I was thinking about the idea of you becoming fit, but I simulated how I’d enjoy you and..your boobs would get smaller. your tummy would become less soft and your body overall would become harder. Your abdominal muscles would become more prominent and harder, especially around the small of your tummy above your pubic bone. Your thighs would become smaller and your calves would become harder. I don’t really like the feel of any of those things.
Boys love the squishy and soft too, people. Remember that. X)
So I’m basically supposed to accept that the 10th doctor married his daughter Jenny in real life. o.0 WHAAHHTT??!!
How to stop the need for Approval
If you one of those people who must seek for approval, then it means that you are a “people pleaser” and you have every reason to be concerned. The truth is that it is not fulfilling because you cannot lead your life as you wish. Here…
I disagree with some of the absolute statements in this post. I agree with their points that argue in the spirit of self-reliance, but the need for approval does NOT have to be a bad thing. I personally get a LOT out of approval from people, but the way I go about it can result in a lot of confusion. For the most part though, making someone else pleased makes me happier than pleasing myself. The stuff I go through isn’t all that bad to me. If someone else thinks it’s bad, then that’s their problem. :) I’ve had enough of society telling me what’s bad or what isn’t, what I should or shouldn’t do. It’s best to simply THINK about what would make me happiest and then pursue it, whatever that may be.
"The truth is that it is not fulfiling because you cannot lead your life as you wish." I don’t like absolute statements like these. It’s assuming WAY too much, first off saying that anything about my life is a truth, as if they know of ALL the different nuances that make my life what it is. Secondly, think about submissives and slaves who have dedicated their lives to giving themselves to the pleasure of their Dominant or Master. They’ve been able to find extreme happiness in this sort of power-exchange.
True, you’re not going to be able to please everyone. It’s important to decide exactly which people you’d get the most out of pleasing. People you trust or look up to, people who you know will add to your life, not be a detriment to it. It’s also important to not blindly trust and follow what anyone says. It’s good to scrutinize everything to make sure a certain belief your action will fall in line with what will make you happiest. And I mean this as an overall improvement in your life, not just the immediate rush you may get from something.