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Ferstofus
I will err again, but may my apology be swift and sincere.
My greatest dream is peace on Earth.

Age 31, Male

Brazil

Joined on 5/11/09

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Ferstofus's News

Posted by Ferstofus - November 16th, 2021


Beneath the skin


In the ever-faded cloister of life itself

I find myself finding new cracks and dents

Who put them there? And what was their purpose?

Was it just to provide me new details to look at?

I speak these words, but my innermost mind knows the truth behind

The cloister is me, and the cracks are my sorrows

As time goes on, they make the structure less and less stable

In minute micro-fractures everyday, they slowly ruin the beautiful architecture

And the simple cracks and dents, so innocuous in appearance

Are in fact the seeds of death and destruction upon myself


...


Unless...

I intervene


Posted by Ferstofus - October 4th, 2021


Poopy Spoopy Spooky


Costumes, candies

Jack-o'-lanterns

These are the things that I love the most!


Spooky stories

Cobwebs, monsters

These are the things that I love the most!


Late-night streets

A shady stranger

Finds you alone

He reaches for his bag

You don't know what it is

He's walking towards you

You try to back away

The alley's a dead end

You press against the wall

He's slowly closing in

You look into his eyes

He's twitchy and insane

The darkness that fills inside his pupil just reminds you of the end!...


He opens up his hand

He offers candy corn

You take a single one

He slowly goes away


...

Sharing candy

Friendly strangers

These are the things that I love the most!


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3

Posted by Ferstofus - September 17th, 2021


Fire


Fire

Fire through the day

Fire in the night

Shows me a way


Fire

Fire caught my soul

Fire still lingers

Shows me what I know


Fire

Fire in my sight

Fire is the purest

Shows me all that's right


Fire

Fire burned my wealth

Fire forged me promptly

Showed me who's myself


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4

Posted by Ferstofus - August 8th, 2021


Burning Heart Beat


Blood and thunder! Clashing in the silence of the night!


The things I love, the things I know are all that make this right!


There is no one, just no one else, just destiny in sight!


And for all those who lie in vain, their words will be their blight!


There is no one, just no one else, just holy light tonight!


The things I know, the things I love are all that make this right!


So come on down, there's no one else, there's glory in our sight!


I hope you are right here with me so we can have this fight!


For all the things the ones I love the most in all my life!


Is fighting true, forever true and dancing with the strife!


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Posted by Ferstofus - July 13th, 2021


A New Moon - Pg. 2


The leaves of the Eldest Forest ruffled. A druid, a long forgotten sight. The newborn adjusted finally to the new reality. She stood.


"What happens now?..." she inquired.


"Nothing. You simply searched for the gift of this place. And the gift I gave you". The blue spirit said that. Smiled. And vanished in plain sight. The druid was baffled. She wished to gain magic. To borrow on their powers, to use spells of the druids to defend the land and battle the monsters near her home. She never wanted to become one of them. What would that entail?


"Nothing" said a voice. From inside her mind. It was not her own, she was sure. This startled her.


"Who are you??" said her mentally, in hopes of an answer.


"Your druidic powers are just that, powers. Not responsibilities. The druids made this ritual to help those of noble souls in need. The powers were never hoarded. Simply, few souls were found worth it.". She stopped for a moment.


"Was I worth it?"


"Yes"


"And again, who are you?"


"The druidic conscience. I am no being or entity, simply a voice. A voice that speaks with the druid, when called."


"But I didn't call for you..."


"A non-druid would believe, yes."


She stood there. In silence.


"...I'm gonna go home" she said, turning to where she came from. She readied her machete, but once she upped her gaze to the bushes and vines, she realized the foliage instantly moved on it's own and opened a path. It was so forceful and precise, it was almost like the movement was somehow commanded. The druidic conscience spoke.


"This is only the beginning"


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3

Posted by Ferstofus - June 10th, 2021


An Insect


The insect

Its many legs

It moves with the mechanics of a thousand tiny engines

Its destination is unknown

All it knows is the direction

The momentum carried by the internal impulses of its essence

Like an architecture of orders and non-orders laid down in the map of its inner meta cosmos


Just kidding

It's just an insect


1

Posted by Ferstofus - May 24th, 2021


The Impulse


   Darkness. Emptiness. Chains.


They held him. He gritted his teeth. He pulled. He exerted extreme force. He forced the chains. Their movement was already something. It made him feel alive, to see something could move. This abyss was not the deepest death, something could move. Something enough for hope. He forced more. Pain in his wrists. He couldn’t stop. It was not a matter of desire anymore. Of will. He had changed himself in these years of chained imprisonment. He had altered his self. His soul and his mind. To stop the struggle of freedom? Impossible now. It was now part of his being. In his eternity of the circumstance, his choice now defined the circumstance. To keep forcing the chains. To be free was now meaningless. In his impulse to give himself life…


the impulse became life itself.


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Posted by Ferstofus - May 10th, 2021


A New Moon


The warrior walked through the vines and bushes in her path. She didn’t know what she was gonna find there, she only knew it was worth it. She made way, she searched. There was nothing there. Is this the place? She kept exploring, through the vines and bushes. A voice came from somewhere unknown. Addressing the warrior, it inquired about her actions. She responded defensively, unsure of what was the voice, and it’s intentions. Surprisingly, the voice revealed herself. It was a woman. Blue. Mystical in gesture and pose. She was exquisite, a figure of dreams and fairy tales. The warrior kept herself tense, her expectation wasn’t pleasant. However, the blue figure did no harm. She spoke in a pacifying tone, trying to calm her new acquaintance. The warrior wished to know about the Green Glade of the Druids, the long forgotten ritual ground of legends. And where remained the gift of primal magic, they say; there dormant, awaiting the able and brave enough to seek it… The mystical blue woman laughed light-heartedly. With an elegant motion...bushes and vines around her moved themselves magically. Outwardly. The vegetation started to give ample space for both women, and something was becoming clear. There were some peculiar-shaped rocks now visible in this area. Tree trunks of sturdy bark, very very old. And flowers of vivid and eye-catching colors. More importantly, all of them marked. Druidic runes. This was the Green Glade of the Druids. The warrior was shaken. Upon this sudden transformation of surroundings, she knew not how to react. Was this really the Green Glade? What is this blue creature planning? The blue woman did not change her attitude, however. She simply directed the warrior to one of the nearby runes. With a welcoming attitude, she invited her new friend to touch it. The warrior reached no conclusion in her mind. She faced the rune and the blue being simply. She touched the stone. The essence of the Primordial Seed ran through the rock. And through her. Her eyes started to emanate light. Her skin started to change texture. The magic acted on the warrior and transformed her. When it was done, she fell on the ground, on her knees. Her mind dealing with the event.


...After ten thousand years. After a hundred thousand moons. In the depths of the Eldest Forest... A new druid had just been born.


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2

Posted by Ferstofus - April 28th, 2021


The Tripping Imbecile


The tripping imbecile walked down the street. Kicked a lamp post and hurt his feet. Not funny.

The tripping imbecile decided to walk. Turned around the corner and slipped in a chalk. Not funny.

The tripping imbecile started to wonder. How long was the road in which he must wander. Kinda funny?

The tripping imbecile thought he’d see the light. To clear his vision, to make good his sigh. Was nice.

He wasn’t an imbecile anymore. He’d seen the light, had wondered his path, made everything possible to live life like that. He then kicked a lamp post and hurt his feet. Funny.


1

Posted by Ferstofus - April 3rd, 2021


A Man and a Necklace


A wandering man walked through the steppes. He was searching. Looking for a specific type of rock, found only in this place. He looked around, he found in the distance a tree. The tree he needed. Beneath it should be the rock. He got under the tree. He dug a hole. Until he found it. The rock. He took out tools from his pouch. He extracted the rock from the ground. Then, with yet other tools, he crafted a bead out of it. A small, simple bead. A cute little ball. He passed a string through, making a humble necklace. With a single bead. The first one.


The man walked. He walked and he walked until he was far away from the steppe. He was now by a river. The river was vast and it’s waters were fast and violent. The man walked by the side of the river. He stopped when he found a specific river bank, one stable enough he could stand on, yet close to the river bed. He positioned himself there and exerted extreme care. He used his wooden staff to move something from deep in the river. To pull something to his bank. It was a rock. He grabbed the rock, took out his tools and worked on this one too. He made another bead, and added it to his necklace. Now it had two.


The man eventually found a bridge and crossed the treacherous river. He walked. He walked and found a jungle, filled with many trees and creatures. Greeted by many bugs, he made his way through the bushes and vines. He again was searching. This time, for an animal. He heard noises. He heard noises of an object being brushed against a surface. The man followed the noise, and found it. A boar, brushing and sharpening his tusks against something. A big rock. The man waited for the animal to finish, and then approached the rock. He found a smaller fragment of it nearby, and pulled his tools. The man made another bead. Added to the necklace. Now a necklace with three beads.


The man met more insects as he made his way out of the jungle. In the direction he went, he eventually found different vegetation. He was going where he intended: a nearby swamp. The trees and fauna were different, many more difficult ground and drenched paths, puddles, snakes and frogs. And many more insects. The man though, rather than avoiding the puddles and the mud, actively stepped on them. He stepped on as many as he could as he made his way, not in a straight line, rather, he was searching again for something. Until the man’s feet hit something hard beneath a puddle. The man stopped, and put his hands in the water. He felt the texture of it attentively. He worked on extracting the hard object, dug underneath. At last. He found another rock. He took his tools, and in the company of many flies and mosquitos he finished another bead. His necklace now had four.


The man got away from the swamp. He at one point found a waterfall, and cleaned himself of mud and dirt. The waterfall was connected to a pond. That was fortunate for the man, he would find what he needed there. After his clothes were clean, the man undressed and put them in a nearby rock. He dived deep in the pound. He touched the many rocks at the bottom. He had to breathe, he returned to the surface. And dived again, and touched more rocks. He repeated this, many times. Until he found one, with a different texture. He grabbed it before emerging once again. He got to his clothes. He sitted down, took his tools. Made another bead. Made his necklace with five beads now.


The man got dressed and walked again. He walked. In his path, at one point he found himself on a paved road, walking on a better surface. That was pleasant for the man. He also meet some travelers along the way, from time to time. He always took the time to greet them, acquaint himself, and ask how was their day and journey. Indeed, many times the travelers were merchants, as it so is, and they kindly offered to do business with the man. He always agreed to peruse the wares, but never found interest in what they had to offer. Until he met one day a jeweler on the road. The jeweler, as one can imagine, had fine rocks and gems to offer. And one of those, as it so happens, got the eye of the wanderer. It was one of the rocks he was looking for. The man bought the rock from the jeweler, and made it in the shape of his beads. And the necklace, like so now had six.


The wandering man parted ways with the jeweler. He still met some other travelers in his way, but no other that sold stones. Eventually the man reached the end of his path, and a city. The city was big and agitated, seemingly many people made here their home or travel destination. The man walked the streets, found himself an inn to sleep and rest his feet. When talking to the owner, he noticed a beautiful ring in that person’s ring finger. The man inquired about it, respectfully. The owner said it was a wedding gift. The man and the owner had a small conversation about it, and sooner rather than later became friends. The man stayed for some time in the city, selling charms and sculptures in the streets and offering artesanal services. The inn owner presented the man to her husband and family, and often invited the wanderer for dinner. They often exchanged gifts between themselves. At one point, the owner gave the wanderer an artistic glass bead, exquisite in design, with the same shape and size as the ones in the man’s necklace. In truthful gratitude, the man added the bead to it. The necklace now had seven.


As pleasant as the past season had been, the man didn’t intend to stay in the city. He had one last dinner with his friends, and morning after took off to the next point in his journey. A mountain, north from the city. The man walked the stone road to the base of the mountain, where rough land and hills awaited him. He started the climb. Not a vertical climb, but still long and tiresome. The man stopped to rest many times. In one of them, he realized there was something a few meters from him. A protuberant rock in the grass. The man walked towards it, and closer saw this rock was unique in color and texture. Like the ones he had been using for his necklace. He grabbed his tools, extracted a fragment of the rock, made another bead. Now his necklace had eight.


As difficult as the climb was, he eventually made it. He made it to the top of the mountain, where an old hermit lumberjack lived. He knocked in the lumberjack’s door, met him, and was invited in. They sitted in a wooden table and drank tea. The wanderer told the man about his journey, and his search for unique materials to make his necklace. He told the lumberjack he wanted one more, out of the rare wood that grew in this mountain. The lumberjack saw no problem with that, and gave the man a piece of wood to be made part of his necklace. The wandering man worked the wood, it was not his expertise, but he still managed to make an acceptable product. A small bead of wood. The ninth, the last bead in the man’s necklace.


After finishing, the wanderer walked into the lumberjack’s living room. He sat in a chair, and looked at his necklace. His host was sitting in another one, next to him.


The lumberjack rubbed his own chin a little, then said:


  • “From what you told me, you’ve been through quite the journey for this thing”


  • “I guess you could say that.”


  • “Was it worth it?”


The wanderer's answer…


Was a smile.


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