doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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The scent of ghost stories told beside a crackling fireplace, with garlands of evergreen hanging beside October’s carved pumpkins. Hearthlight and jack o’lanterns cast shadows on cobwebbed corners. Candied orange peel, mulled cider, smoked myrrh twirling through a cranberry garland, balsam resin and amber-drizzled pumpkin, smoldering hearthwood, and the soft honeyed glow of dripping beeswax.
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You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling? For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. Ecstatic unbecoming: earth-warmed patchouli, sweet myrrh, terebinth, galbanum, gurjum balsam, and black amber.
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I think that woman gets out in the daytime! And I’ll tell you why—privately—I’ve seen her! I can see her out of every one of my windows! It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most women do not creep by daylight. I see her on that long shaded lane, creeping up and down. I see her in those dark grape arbors, creeping all around the garden. I see her on that long road under the trees, creeping along, and when a carriage comes she hides under the blackberry vines. I don’t blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight! Furtive, uncanny. Blackened blackberry bleeds onto bruised green leaves, crushed grass, and wet earth while tendrils of honeysuckle clutch and grasp at noontime shadows.
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When it’s too hot to wear all black, consider refreshing your aesthetic with this deliciously neutral palette! Chocolate, strawberry and vanilla, sticky with labdanum and duly chilled with a whisper of clove smoke.
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For the spooky kids down the shurr.
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Hungry Ghost Moon: Oven-Warm Pizza Crust and Oregano
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Oven-Warm Pizza Crust and Oregano. -
This time around, we’ve crafted an olfactory celebration of renewed hope and good fortune! Jamaican chocolate tea and gulab jaman with coconut, coconut milk, green and black cardamom, pistachio, basmati rice, saffron, dates, honey, nutmeg, and clove.
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Loyal. Faithful. Perpetually rehearsing “Scotland the Brave.” This is a mascot with real staying power. Bagpipe Dog will outlive us all. Gin and pine needle with lime and white juniper. In the decant, I can smell the gin and pine needle, and then the lime and juniper. I get those notes in that order on my skin as well: the gin and pine, followed by the lime and juniper. It's a bit fizzy, foresty, and refreshing. After a while, the pine and lime calm down significantly, and the gin becomes stronger, making the scent boozier than before. I also get more juniper. The pine is still present, but softer than before, and there ends up being only a hint of lime. I was really enjoying this during the wet phase of the scent, when the pine and lime were pretty strong, but I don't like the dry phase nearly as much. If you're a fan of the Lab's gin note, you need this!
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Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite. Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody. But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements? Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing; And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes. I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house. Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows—then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.” And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky,—then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.” And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion. Rest in reason and move in passion: smoked rose attar, honeyed saffron, red sandalwood, red tea, clove bud, and frankincense.
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Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle. Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.” And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread. Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.” The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.” But the restless say, “We have heard her shouting among the mountains, And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.” At night the watchmen of the city say, “Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.” And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.” In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.” And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.” All these things have you said of beauty, Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied, And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight. People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror. You are life and you are the veil; a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted: saffron-threaded sandalwood, white ambrette, wild narcissus, smoky yellow tobacco flower, and gilded vanilla.
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Love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family: sun-warmed purple fig, wildflower honey, almond cream, jasmine absolute, mimosa, and bourbon vanilla.
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Dust-soft vellum, cracked leather, and yellowed pages exhaling their ghost of vanillin, a triple shot of espresso, and a deft swirl of warm, velvety microfoam.
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Coconut Cream & Guava.
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Cardamom and Black Amber.
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Pomegranate and Black Fig.
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The inky bite of black coffee rising in gusts of steam, softened by the warm-gold glow of buttered crust and sugared apples.
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The scent of a too-big mug of coffee at your favorite all-night diner after the clubs let out: a slow ribbon of clove smoke, the warm fry-oil haze that clings to everything, and a fleeting gust of maple syrup drifting through the booths.
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I’m honestly not sure if this is actually a New Year’s card, but for the sake of this project, let’s say it is. Your ancient ones are welcome? I misunderstood the card when I first saw it, and my brain translated it to an invocation to the Great Old Ones, Outer Gods, Elder Gods, or Dreamlands’ Great Ones, so let’s run with that, too. This scent is no mere nut of hearth and harvest, but a squamous chestnut, born of ancient groves whose roots knot through strata older than memory, necrophagous and ravenous, sucking nutrients from long-buried carrion. A whiff of roasted shell, scorched coffee bean, and smoldering husk billowing in tenebrous clouds of nutty, cacodaemonical incense. Beneath this lies a resinous sweetness, dry and fungal, as though the chestnut had ripened not beneath familiar suns but under a swollen, unwholesome moon. A paean to the dad jokes that the King in Yellow tells his kids, this chestnut’s warmth carries the faint echo of a pun told too many times and the comforting dread of knowing the punchline before it lands.
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Lime Blossom & Amber Sugar.
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Green Tea & Cookie Dough.
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A velvety, sophisticated concoction for the ages!
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A dangerously dark and intoxicating floral, Jarmara is equal parts menacing and irresistible, teetering on the knife’s edge between seduction and peril. It is equal parts the seductive kiss of a vampire and the lethal poison slipped into a lover’s drink by a black widow. Black orchid and scarlet poppies intertwine with rosehips, orris root, opoponax, tolu balsam, and smoky labdanum.
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A sensual, luxuriant scent that stays close to the skin: Australian sandalwood, tonka bean, benzoin, Siberian iris, bourbon vanilla, cardamom-infused amber, and mimosa petals. Egon Schiele
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I thought this would be a dry, colder scent, but I'm glad that this wasn't what I had imagined. This strongly reminds me of 2013's Go to Sleep, Darlings (Kiss-soft clouds of spun-sugar snow), which means it is a sweet snow note infused with a soft mint and no florals, menthol, ozone, or evergreens. In other words, it's amazing and one little sample pot decant will not be enough. I could not stop smelling my hand after I applied this. Add this to the 'I should have just blind bottled it' pile because of all of the lotions I have tried so far, there have been only two that I didn't think were bottle-worthy.😅
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Ice & Crushed Mint Lotion.