Tag Archives: blood drinkers

Blood’s Truth, Finds New Home in the Abyss

20 Apr

Re-post from my FB account:

Probably the last excerpt I will ever share from my book:

Page 88
The verity of time shall remember you as a child full of fear and imagined grace, a hollow husk, if you are remembered at all. And so, to you, in a sanguine whisper, Life utters, “Terminate your torment of love unsatisfied, of a life unfulfilled. Where shall this libber of souls be found? Where will the truth resound? Not here, not in the arms of ego and cultivated ignorance. There is not enough silence.”

Go into the sable forest, if you can bare the reality, and live among the “beasts” and “monsters.” Eat from the ruby apple, embrace your pain and tear the diseased veil of false-hoods from your rotting pulp.

Julia DarkRose Caples
Copyright 2016

This informational post is meant for those that care…
My apology. I forget, when I am writing, not everyone lives inside my head, Lol. I am pulling “Blood’s Truth,” off the shelf, not for a lack of sales or positive reviews. I am doing so for what I believe is the greater good, for all. Perhaps not my call to make, but there it is, it is made.
“A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies,” is still coming out this October. Thank you everyone for your concern. I am, as always, truly appreciative. 🙂

I am pulling my book, “Blood’s Truth,” off the shelves. I am having 100 copies printed, delivered to me and stored away for another generation…maybe, perhaps I will just bury them deep in the abyss.

Thank you beyond what I can convey in this Social Media post, to all those who believed in me and my work, and supported my book, no matter what.

~Julia DarkRose Caples
2018

 

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Forged From the Darkest Light…

6 Apr

 

The newest literary alchemy from

Rose Wytch media and Julia DarkRose Caples!

Available October 2018!

A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies Promo-1

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Gallery

Betwixt the Guts…

29 Mar

Southern Gothic Ascending

21 Mar

Please enjoy my newest  video preview for “The DarkRose Journal,” Issue 7~ReVamped.

Southern Gothic Ascending: Video Preview…

Southern Gothic Ascending

Julia DarkRose-Girl's Night Out Edit for Video Text

Because sometimes I forget that not everyone understands the world the way I do and quite often, many of those people have no fucking clue about what I am trying to communicate…

SOUTHERN GOTHIC
noun
1.
a literary genre depicting life in the southern US and featuring grotesque themes and imagery
Collins English Dictionary – Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
© William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012

American Psychological Association (APA):
southern gothic. (n.d.). Collins English Dictionary – Complete & Unabridged 10th Edition. Retrieved March 20, 2018 from Dictionary.com website http://www.dictionary.com/browse/southern-gothic

ASCEND
Definition of ‘ascend’
Learner: ascendAmerican: ascend English: ascend Example sentences

ascend
(əsɛnd )
Word forms: ascends, ascending, ascended
1. transitive verb
If you ascend a hill or staircase, you go up it.
2. intransitive verb
If a staircase or path ascends, it leads up to a higher position.
3. intransitive verb
If something ascends, it moves up, usually vertically or into the air.
4. See also ascending
COBUILD Advanced English Dictionary. Copyright © HarperCollins Publishers

MORPHOLOGY
morphology in American
(mɔrˈfɑlədʒi ; môrfälˈəjē)
noun
1.
the branch of biology that deals with the form and structure of animals and plants
2.
a.
the branch of linguistics that deals with word structure and with functional changes in the forms of words, such as inflection and compounding
b.
the study of the structure, classification, and relationships of morphemes
3.
any scientific study of form and structure, as in physical geography
4.
form and structure, as of an organism, regarded as a whole
Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Edition. Copyright © 2010 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. All rights reserved.

TAPROOT
aproot in American
(ˈtæpˌrut ; tapˈro̅otˌ)
noun
a main root, growing almost vertically downward, from which small branch roots spread out
Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Edition. Copyright © 2010 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. All rights reserved.

THRESHOLD
threshold
Pronunciation /ˈθrɛʃˌhəʊld//ˈθrɛʃəʊld/
NOUN
1A strip of wood or stone forming the bottom of a doorway and crossed in entering a house or room.

‘he stood on the threshold of Sheila’s bedroom’
More example sentencesSynonyms
1.1in singular A point of entry or beginning.
‘she was on the threshold of a dazzling career’
More example sentencesSynonyms
1.2 The beginning of an airport runway on which an aircraft is attempting to land.
Example sentences
2The magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result, or condition to occur or be manifested.

‘nothing happens until the signal passes the threshold’
as modifier ‘a threshold level’
© 2018 Oxford University Press

OLD-WORLD
Definition of ‘Old World’
Learner: old worldAmerican: Old World1American: Old World2American: old-worldEnglish: Old WorldEnglish: old-worldExample sentencesTrends
Word Frequency
old world
also Old World also old-world
adjective [ADJ n]
Old world is used to describe places and things that are or seem to be from an earlier period of history, and that look interesting or attractive.
The newcomers to the Village were attracted by its winding streets and Old World charm.
COBUILD Advanced English Dictionary. Copyright © HarperCollins Publishers

“A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies,” Preview

19 Mar

“A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies,” Book Preview
This video is a teeny tiny sliver of the themes that are immured within the viscerous marrow of Her pages.

Video Preview of My Book

About Rose Wytch Page-2FB_IMG_1513457267807

My Symbolism

19 Mar

Because several people have asked and I apologize for not doing a thorough enough job, through my creations, communicating what the image I created is actually symbolizing.

I hope this description will allow a better understanding for those who choose to apply that which I have lived and am living and try to translate through my various artistic endeavors, to their lives for personal transformation and, in time, societal transformation.

The apple represents universal knowledge applied as earned wisdom. The butterfly represents endless personal transformation based on said knowledge applied as wisdom. The blood covering the apple and butterfly and my hand (hand is to convey Mankind’s role in our universe)…the blood covering it all, conveys my lineage (Draconian) and our role with Mankind.
Thank you, kindly, for asking.
~Julia DarkRose Caples
🌹👍

“Look at me!”

18 Mar

“Look at me!” Look at me!”
“Please, someone look at meeeeeee!”

I understand our need to be recognized on some level that allows us to feel validated, in whatever way we need it, that validation, to work. What I am communicating to everyone, about the constant barrage of media that reach out for me almost weekly, is simply this:

I firmly believe that the world does NOT need another article, live interview, documentary,book, or any form of media, when the end result being conveyed to the world is this…
“MILF Who Drinks Human Blood by the Gallon from Her Army of Slaves!”
Nope. Nope. Nope.

I am not doing it anymore. Now, I say this every couple of years, for the last 20 years or so, I know. While I will make exceptions for a few people and their worthy shows, for the majority of media, unless they are going to discuss with me my artistic alchemy and how I am earnestly trying to help transcend our world, one creature at a time…then, no.

However, some of us, only know how to live the fuck out of this gift of life we have and wear our constant transformations on our sleeve, so to speak….Ergo the teeny tiny, sliver of a visual trip through my entire being of transformation…I hope this helps those who might need it.

I have just too much life, lol, seriously! No way to include it all here visually! But, still, I am hopeful that this post will speak to those who need it.
Thank you, kindly. 
Sincerely,
~Julia DarkRose Caples
*****************************************

Here for your reading pleasure, or not, is the thirteenth re-post of two of my favorite and what I believe to be, most endarkening (enlightening) works of my literary alchemy.

Do You Truly See Me?
By Julia DarkRose
©2014

I know, in this very moment of fluidity,
of the seemingly endless cycle of time,
I know what lies beyond my door.
I went into the darkness so I can shine.
Within my liquid darkness, I am the Darklight.
Most people spend their lives thinking that they are afraid to die.
When, in truth, I believe that they are truly afraid to live…

Over the mountains and over the waves,
Under the fountains and under the graves;
Under floods that are deepest, which Neptune obey,
Over rocks that are steepest,
My crimson love will find out the way.

With a burning spear, and a horse of air,
To the wilderness I wander.
By a knight of ghosts and shadows
I’m summoned beyond the wide world’s end.

From the wicked hags and hungry goblins
That into bloody rags would rend me,
And from the spirit that stands
by the unawakened, naked man,
I rise above thee,
And fight for a better day.

In the book of Moons, there you will find,
Written in The Mothers own blood,
My name…Daughter of Truth.

Love not me for only comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,
Nor for any outward part.
No, love me too for my valiant spirit
And my constant loving dark heart.
***************************************************
Excerpt from
Chapter Five of “Blood’s Truth”
Copyright 2016
Julia DarkRose Caples

Chapter Five
A Living Vampire,
Religion and Spirituality
not (necessarily)included

As I walked out one evening, I looked over Man’s shoulder
for vines and olive trees, for marble, well-governed cities
and ships upon wine-dark seas; But there on the shining metal
his hands had put instead an artificial wilderness and a sky like lead.

The stars are dead. The animals will not look.
The glacier knocked in my cupboard, the desert sighed in my bed, and the crack in my tea cup opened. So, I walked out onto the brightly lit lane, it led to the land of the dead.

The soul shrinks from all that it is about to and should remember,
from the punctual rape of every blessed day, and cries,
“Oh, let there be nothing on earth but what I choose to see,
nothing but rosy glasses to cover my eyes, and gloves to cover my hands in the rising steam, and guilty, blurred diversions done in the sight of heaven.”

Pale souls they are, consumed by fear of the living world they haunt. Yet, they have not learned what habits lead them to hunt what they truly do not want;

I don’t want to harm them, I think this very thought,
right up to the moment I slit their throats with the truth.
I am touched with the moon’s red silver, I am my own wolf sun,
made of human moonlight.
95
*****************************

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