Evil one, with noble goals, as to get noble goals, you also need to sacrifice much, alot, as no good path exists with tons of sacrifices, and evil deeds.
I would choose both and none. Don't be limited by institutuonised restraints. Beauty lies in all things. The same as good and evil. The question is.... do we deserve it?
It's a spectrum to me, I see there being evil and good as just contextual tools to describe the malevolence or purity of your acts/thoughts. There's also motive, so this is more open ended than it looks...
See, what is the core difference between an Aristocrat and an Oligarch? The former exists precisely to improve the state of affairs, through a virtuous and honourable existence. The latter exists to satisfy his own hunger and greed, at the expense of all. Don't confuse the terms.
I wrote this while listening. I hope someone enjoys it. On Good and Evil I was born in a vast ocean of black and white. But there was something else on the horizon, gray. It infected the black and white until there was nothing but gray. I have sense taught myself how to see the different grays as individual colors, giving my world vibrant hues. When I look back at where I started and see it for what it was for me and my experience. I see a land void of everything but a tower at the center of the land. A gray tower as thin as a needle with a point sharper than anything I can imagine. On the tip is a coin balancing on its non existent edge, spinning between black and white. All sapience comes from this coin, falling in to the land of gray. All want to return to the comfort of the black and white at least once. Many have tried but none have made it back to the coin that forever spins in the sky. I have never tried to climb the tower, if that is what it is. I might have been distressing at first but I now find content in the land of gray. Others are not so fortunate as I. Some will take their preferred hues and claim that they are the best to black and white we can ever get back to, so we should use them in their stead for now. Others claim their preferred hues are black and white, despite the true spinning coin we can see far above us all. But am I originally of the coin so what side of the coin do I root myself in? The cloths I chose to wear are in beautiful hues of my on devising. Is my navy blue jacket that kept me alive throughout the winter too dark? Is it more noble of me to wear my bright red shoes over the green in the summer? Is my red your red? Such questions are never ending, but I hope I will be clad in more shades of white than black as I enter my grave. But one can only do so much in the land of gray.
@@duvangrajales4146 I don't understand spanish so I used auto translate. "Hi, I liked what you wrote. Could you explain a little more about this music" If this is not what you meant please clarify. The music is in my opinion a good representation of old European aristocracy. Which is to say being self centered and pretentious of ones moral superiority in the world.
What an intriguing painting of philosophical imagination you did there there, friend. And.. some suspicious voices in the wind say it's not about right or wrong, it's the point of being strong enough to make a decision.
@@Grateful.for.Subscribing "some suspicious voices in the wind say it's not about right or wrong, it's the point of being strong enough to make a decision." I believe that can be true only if it takes courage to make the choice. An easy moral choice takes no strength to hold. I think one of the more interesting implied connotations (My opinion, hope it came a crossed). The MC can't find hope and or wrath in the land of the gray. Just distress and contentment.
Good and Evil are both subjective. If one does evil it is seen as good and as one does good it is only because they have seen evil. Now that one knows this Good and Evil become one in the same, and no I'm not suggesting grey, I propose Balance as the neutral. Spin the coin all one likes but it only spins because of the balanced axis, the 3rd side of the coin everyone tends to overlook. Now that One knows of this 3rd side you can no longer claim ignorance to Good being associated with Order as Evil is to Cheos. However, know that Order must have rules that are only effective if everyone obeys them and equality is given way to Neutrality less there be a hierarchy that shadows a prison. Now Cheos reins freedom to be True, absent of Order. Evil often ceases the opportunity to create their own image that's sure to create another hierarchy of inequalities through force, thus enlightening a reverse-guilded cage forcing out Freedom. So you see, it's in Neutral Balance that One must find that keeps the coin spinning in perfect harmony. ^^
Creative writing part I: The Countess. The Countess sat alone in her carriage, swaying sporadically as it rode over the uneven cobblestone roads. Her coachman was taking a shortcut through the back-alleys as she was late to her event. She knew these roads well, the stench of the brown puddles, the coarseness of the soot-stained buildings, and the hollowed looks of those who wandered these streets were a distant memory of her childhood, but still engrained in her mind. She was one out of a thousand to have escaped the underbelly of the capital, but at what cost. The Countess looked back down at her invitation card. It was smooth and the edges were gilt. Written in ink cursive calligraphy, the invitation read: The esteemed Countess Rosalie von Rhedey is most cordially invited to attend the salon of her Imperial and Royal Highness, the Grand Princess Cecilie. What a world she had now entered. Gone are the days where she had to ration and scavenge the dark alleyways, now she drank champagne and laughed elegantly behind feathered fans in golden ballrooms or silk drawing rooms in front of those who had daggers in their smiles and venom in their eyes. The Countess sighed and looked out the window. She began to see street lights now and electricity from windows. the roads got smoother and more crowded. She could hear laughter and chatter from the pedestrians, now smartly dressed on their evening stroll. She looked out in envy. She would have been perfectly content to be like them. They were not starving and they did not have to deal with the vicious jealousy of others. She had lived the two extremes of wealth, she only wished she could have been in the middle. As she daydreamed, she realised she had arrived at her destination. A line of carriages parked in front of the entrance to Grand Princess Cecilie's vast palace. The Countess' coachman, did the same and helped open the door of the carriage to let his lady out. However, she stayed. The Countess did not move. She wondered if she wanted to be there or change her mind and return home in the safe company of her children. The coachman noticed the hesitance. "Courage Madame," he said, reaching his hand out for her to take. The Countess looked at her coachman. He was middle aged and greying. His face and wrinkles show the hardships he had gone through in his life, yet his eyes were full of encouragement and the fire of life. She smiled, took his hand, and stepped out of the carriage. She inhaled and exhaled and looked up at the palace. It was like a vast greek marble temple with all the light in the world emanating from it. Towards this light, she began to walk towards. As she entered the palace, she felt a shiver down her spine, even though she was still wearing her fur overcoat. The venomous eyes have already began to stare. The footman helped take her jacket off and carry it off to a distant coat room. She wore a stunning silver thread dress, of the latest fashions, that shined under the sparkling chandeliers. The Countess could hear gasps in awe of her choice of clothing. Indeed there were sometimes satisfaction in coming to events like this. She then ascended the steps and down a hall, following the sounds of animated chatter, laughter, and champagne clinking until she entered a brightly lit salon. As she entered she gave her invitation card to the footman at the door who loudly announced her pressence. Silence then descended the salon. A lone spotlight shone over the Countess as she saw every malicious eye turn slowly towards her. The Countess could feel her heart racing and her hand clench her fan. Suddenly, a shriek of excitement shattered the silence, as a young and lively lady came from the adjoining salon. "Rosa!" the lady exclaimed with enthusiasm as she quickly scurried towards the Countess, her hands reaching out to greet her. The Countess smiled, relieved a friend was there to greet her. "It's good to see you Duchess", she said curtseying. "Please, you know you can call me my name, Rosa," the Duchess said, with a smile. The Countess smiled and walked hand in hand with the Duchess towards the doors of the adjoining salon. In there was a smaller more intimate crowd who seemed to gravitate towards one person. Sat on a chez lounge in the middle of the room, surrounded by various admirers was another young lady, dressed in a bright and lively pink. She had pearls cascading down her golden curls and ocean blue eyes that turned to look directly at the Countess. “Rosa, my dear,” the lady said in a sultry and smooth voice, rising from her seat swiftly and glided towards the Countess. “Your highness,” the countess said, deeply curtsying and kissing the ring on the Grand Princess’ hand. “My dear friend, I’m so relieved you have arrived,” the Grand Princess whispered into her ear. “These dandies have become frightfully dull and I needed a wit to keep my senses awake.” “I am always at you beck and call Ceci,” the countess responded. The Grand Princess smiled, and waved over to a footman to bring her a box of cigarets. From the box she plucked two out and lit them both before passing one to the Countess. The Grand Princess took a puff of her cigaret and let the smoke float out of her mouth, to the delight of her admirers that sat at a distance admiring the Grand Princess’ beauty. The Duchess, seeing this, proceeded to shoo the men out of the room, leaving the three ladies alone. “My dear Rosa,” the Grand Princess said, breathing out smoke, “You have to be careful from here on out.” “Why?” The countess said, taking a flute of champagne from a footman’s platter, “is something the matter?” “We hear that Grand Duke is going to be the target of an assassination,” the innocent looking Duchess said. “From whom?” the Countess said, furrowing her brow. “The Captain of the Imperial Guards have informed me that they are doubling the security in Castell for the sake of the Grand Duke’s safety,” the Grand Princess explained. “They have soldiers protecting the boarders of his territories and his residence here in the capital,” the Duchess continued to explained as she fidgeted with her hands. “You may not be able to enter his lands and his residences so easily anymore my dear,” the Grand Princess said, putting her hand on the Countess’ shoulder. The Countess looked down at the intricately designed carpet. She knew that there would come a day where she would be left in the dark by the man she loved, she just wished it had not come so soon. She knew that once he had distanced himself from her, the rest of the aristocratic world was more than ready to pounce on her. But it wasn’t even her own safety that she feared. It was the safety of her children that worried her. Fear soon clouded the Countess’ mind, and she stood silently and motionless as she let the situation settle in her mind Her friends, the only people she could trust amidst the ocean of circling sharks, let her be and waited for her to process in silence. However, amidst the silence of the room, the sound of another guest being announced could be heard. “Announcing the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess von Rhine-Castell have arrived.” The Countess’ ears perked and her friends turned towards her to see what she would do. The Countess hesitated. Should she talk to him? In broad daylight? In the company of those who prayed for her downfall? She put her champagne flute down on the table besides her firmly, and straightened out of her dress and confidently approached the door. The Grand Princess and the Duchess followed closely behind before the three exited the salon together.
part II: Into the grand salon, the three ladies sauntered, with elegance and grace. They were greeted by the smiles of other guests of the Grand Princess’ gathered, but as she passed them by she could hear the jealous whispers of the onlookers. “How did a harlot like her become so close to our esteemed Grand Princess?” Whispered an onlooker. “The title of Countess can never mask her origins as a lowly prostitute,” another guest whispered behind her fan. The Countess was used to these comments, and she had become numb to these useless words. The three ladies, led by the Grand Princess glided over towards the Grand Duke and his young and newly wed wife, the Grand Duchess. The Duchess and the Countess curtsied while the Grand Princess reached her hand out for the tall and well groomed Grand Duke to take and kiss as he bowed. “My dearest Grand Duke,” the Grand Princess said with a wry smile, “It is so good of you to come under your circumstances.” “Your Imperial Highness,” the Grand Duke said with haughtiness and swag, “I would never miss you gatherings for the world, especially when I have some unfinished business here.” The Countess looked up towards the towering man. Whenever her solemn grey eyes met his bright and lively emerald green eyes, the room and the crowd around them always seemed to disappear. And when he smiled, she felt like she was the only girl in the world. “I miss you,” his lips mouthed silently, but it was as if she could hear him say those words so clearly. She could feel her ears go hot and she quickly placed away. Her surroundings came back into view and the chatter of the onlookers became audible again. “Grand Duke, your wife’s debut the other day was quite the event, I am ever so sorry to have missed it,”the Grand Princess said, as the Countess’ attention returned. “While we were sad that you were not able to attend, we are quite flattered you should invite us into your company tonight your Highness,” the Grand Duchess said in a quiet and unassuming voice. The Countess looked at her. She seemed frail, frightened, and very young. Her hair was long, and platinum blonde, almost white. She was beautiful, but she looked like a wilted lily. Her eyes were empty and lifeless. The Countess pitied her. She heard from the Grand Duke that this marriage was a politically arranged one between the two families. “My mother had willed it,” she remember hearing him say to her on one of the nights she had spent with him. A now distant memory. The Grand Princess soon parted company from the Grand Duke and began to speak with the other guests. The Countess’ eyes followed the grand Duke around the room, watching where he was going. When his eyes finally caught hers, they knew they had to be alone together. He began to walk towards the empty salon next door and the Countess was ready to pursue. As she began to walk away a hand reached out to her and gently tugged at her wrist. “Be careful,” the duchess said. Her eyes were full of worry. “I will,” the Countess said, reassuring her friend. She then walked towards the door. She could feel the eyes of judgement disappear, knowing that behind the door was the man she loved. As she entered she saw him, in the middle of the room, towering and imposing. She walked towards him and hugged him. But he didn’t hug back. He was stiff. Almost too stiff. She looked back up at him. His eyes were straining and his veins bulging. The countess took a step back before the man collapsed as her feet and his spluttered blood from his mouth. The Countess was stunned as the man began to writhe in pain at her feet. She couldn’t even let out a gasp from her mouth. Then suddenly the doors opened behind her and a shriek pierced the air. The Grand Duchess stood in abject horror and her hands covering her mouth. The crowds gathered behind her, gasping, and screaming “Murderer!” The Countess went white and faint as the guards and footman began to flood the room. Her arm was taken by one of the guards and she was held to the ground. She couldn’t even react to what was happening before her eyes. The Grand Princess and the Duchess could be seen being ushered away. Her friends calling her name. The Countess did not understand what was going on until she saw, from the corner of her eye, the Grand Duchess. The wilted lily who shrieked and alerted the crowds was smiling behind the cover of her hands.
@@jonathanlee4511 You write excellently, I hope you will publish your pieces one day. Reading this-I lost track of time and found myself immersed into a world of decadence and debauchery; I felt as if I was there myself. You have incredible talent and write with such immersive imagery. Thank you for sharing this masterpiece with the world, I hope you will take up writing as your profession or do something similar that you enjoy-you are a true virtuoso!
@@jonathanlee4511 I'm glad to hear it-I used to write short stories but eventually stopped which was folly, I was very skilled when I was younger and had a natural inclination towards it-my advice is to never stop writing, you really could do something special! Maybe make a website or post it on a website that posts stories(I don't know any though) or keep it on paper; whatever suits you best. I really hope you keep on writing though man, it's been a while since I enjoyed something so much.
1. 0:00 Baroque Chamber Strings [Slowed / Versión ralentizada] - Rafael Krux. 2. 2:25 Waltz of The Moscow Strings - Rafael Krux. 3. 4:30 First Baroque Prelude For Classical Violin - Rafael Krux. 4. 5:33 Days Pass (del álbum: The Art Of Loneliness) - Adrian Berenguer. 5. 8:29 Midnight Vals (del álbum: Still Life) - Adrian Berenguer. 6. 10:35 Baroque Harpsichord - Rafael Krux. 7. 12:39 The 5th Season - Nono. 8. 14:45 Cinematic Classical Violin - Rafael Krux. 9. 18:34 First Baroque Etude for Classical Violin - Rafael Krux. 10. 20:49 Ballade - Patrick Ussher. 11. 24:21 Sad Classical Violin Solo - Rafael Krux. [29:23 Repetición] 1. 29:23 Baroque Chamber Strings [Slowed / Versión ralentizada] - Rafael Krux. 2. 31:30 Waltz of The Moscow Strings - Rafael Krux. 3. 33:35 First Baroque Prelude For Classical Violin - Rafael Krux. 4. 34:38 Days Pass (del álbum: The Art Of Loneliness) - Adrian Berenguer. 5. 37:34 Midnight Vals (del álbum: Still Life) - Adrian Berenguer. 6. 39:40 Baroque Harpsichord - Rafael Krux. 7. 41:43 The 5th Season - Nono. 8. 43:51 Cinematic Classical Violin - Rafael Krux. 9. 47:43 First Baroque Etude for Classical Violin - Rafael Krux. 10. 49:54 Ballade - Patrick Ussher. 11. 53:26 Sad Classical Violin Solo - Rafael Krux. [Tema de cierre] 58:20 Baroque Chamber Strings [Versión original] - Rafael Krux.
- waltz of moscow - days pass by adrian berenguer - midnight vals "" "" - baroque harpischord by rafael krux - the 5th season by nono - cinematic violins by rafael krux - first baroque etude for classical violin "" "" - ballade by patrick ussher - sad classical violin by r. krux - baroque chamber strings "" "" - serenade for strings? - first baroque prelude, r. k.
honestly, if i woke up as one, i'd panic and see if we have running water and then scream or sigh in relief just to get a sense of which century i turned up in
Господи! Какая божественная музыка! Не слышал ее ранее. Я просто таю. Млею от восторга. Огромное спасибо! Классика и создавалась вообщем то для аристократии и почти всегда аристократами, для узкого круга избранных посвященных в ее таинство. Таинство и магию Красоты.
Even to those who wish to do good, there is the ever lasting threat of getting lost in distinguishing between what is a need, what is luxury, and what is desire. One must be careful, for the mind will often attempt to cast away morality when it isn't in its interest. How can we know that we've lost sight? Or that our sight is still pure? And once we do gain clarity, the responsibility of having such wealth, and power...Is often too much for our minds to bear if we're not prepared. However, there is a thought which can easily keep us in check. It doesn't matter when or where we wake up, we will still have the memories of what happened to those in the aristocracy which abused their positions to its limit. The fate of our heads, lie within our ability to contain the human condition within ourselves, and those who eye our every move.
Note: I wrote this while listening to this wonderful playlist. Enjoy! •I am a noble• I am sitting on a fancy chair in this room, filled with people of our society. A society of fake words, lies and dumb discussions about the weather. Just by looking at them, you recognize the lies they are about to tell you, the nice compliments they are about to throw at you like arrows. And when you move away from their presence, turning your back, their faces morph into disgust and their tongues vomit out, to other people, the true thoughts about you. Sickness. A remarcable society of sickness. But, I must say that at least I am not like the unfortunate poor ones. I am gifted to be in this delicate, yet disgusting community of delusional people. But the unfortunate ones, aren't as gifted. At least, I am choosing to wear the most beautiful dresses, be surrounded by a bunch of personalities and be part of the most sophisticated parties. But, for what? Just to hear these idiots talk behind my back?! Just to see that they all are wearing masks of a perfect reality?! HA! Perfect?! Their brains transformed into mashed potates and are being eaten by bugs. Of course, I am one of the noble ones! I am supposed to be attending all of the disscusions, parties, concerts, theatre presentations, like all of this matters. I am surrounded by beauty material objects, yes. BUT WHERE IS MY GODDAMN FREEDOM?! Where is it?! I wish I could carve a big smile on the faces of the ones who fake it, transform all their calculated thoughts into madness, make them spill tears of regret, anger and forgivness. Make them beg for all the evil they done, all the ignorance, all the mistakes, every little wrong move they did. In the end, I am maybe one of them. A evil beauty, who makes the poor ones cry. I may have done the same dark wrongs as them, bring the same amount of tears, on other's faces, as them. Because, in the end, I am a noble. I know my place.
Well written in many aspects with some minor spelling errors that are neglectable in the grand scheme of things, but carrying quite the bland and overdone message of "nobility bad, lazy & fake - proletariat oppressed and suffering". Idk, you could've taken it in a american psycho direction (still unoriginal), a shadow society direction with purists and reformists clashing verbally at social gatherings, or a philosophical approach of directly calling out how depravity, destrudo and bastardization via approximation is inherent human nature that only gets elevated to it's extremes once the opportunity arises, no matter whether noble by birth or noble by merit... Then again I like the way you ended it. Showing innate complacency is a clever touch especially considering how you described nobility beforehand. 6-7/10 imo
I have given the world my all, it took everything from me. I shall take everything from the world; take and take and take until nothing is left. My path is clear we shall take everything from them, leave them wanting. We shall play them like puppets we live for a standing ovation you’ll die for one. You are coming upon your final act. I’ll be reborn for the role. You scream of friendship but what has that ever gotten you hero sadness and pain?
Y bien estimado desconocido; logro completar el deguste de estas bellas piezas? quisiera saber su opinion hacerca de ellas si no le parece imprudente. -una oyente...
Classical music, with its grand compositions and intricate melodies, has long been associated with the aristocratic circles of the past, where elegance and sophistication reigned supreme.
The answer question of what I would be were I a man of class in the past is no different to the answer of the question of what I am considering I am a man of class now. I would be reformed from my dark past and passionately engaging in the battle of justice against the forces of evil and deception. I would raise my sword in the name of a cause higher than I. All I have left is my life. If I loose even that, it shall not be in vain. There is no weakness in goodness; true goodness is fueled by the same ferocious pathos that makes the mountains crumble and the earth give way. That is the cause for which I would raise my sword against the countless daemons that fill and surround me.
Das Flötenkonzert Friedrichs des Großen in Sanssouci (Frederick the Great's Flute Concerto at Sanssouci), 1850-1852, National Gallery, Berlin. The painter is German
How to study becomes elegant and aristocratic with a song. I love it. 💖 Creative verse I want to share: ---------------------------------------------------------------- I saw them, they were swimming on their axis, but not down, but up. Very high. Their colors were earthly, but they were up there. Very high. They were real, though I could never touch them, my eyes never left the movement. It was strange. Why do I see this? Would Van Gogh have painted this if he had dreamed it? or maybe Monet? I know Rembrandt wouldn't do it, nor would Caravaggio. I wonder if my head was taken by someone else to be watching this or if it's really me? I will never know. Now I see it, but tomorrow I won't, and neither will the day after, just once I would like to take a photo of this, but my eyes are the only ones that will seal this moment and forget it. I hope someone knows what I'm talking about. You see it? I can't anymore. Maybe that's why they're writing about me, because I don't know how to do it anymore. IM up. Very high. Close to what I once saw. I will invite you, first in the same way that I received the invitation and then, by themselves. Thank you for not letting me forget it writer, it's not time yet but you were already invited. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- pdt: I'm still looking for a name, if anyone has an idea it would help me a lot for my class. 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
"Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves." - Lestat
I've never listened to Rafael Krux's pieces before ur channel, and just wow. They're literally all bangers, anyone care to give me a little history lesson on Krux?
que bonita música, siempre me ha llamado este tipo de música, pero una vez empiezas a sentirla y no a escucharla, es capaz de transmitir las emociones que desprenden esas frecuencias sonoras, es algo fascinante el cual estoy muy agradecido de poder sentirlo.
La primer imagen es de el Rey Federico II de Prusia tocando la flauta. No solo fue un gran estratega militar, también era un artista y lo admiro mucho muchisimo ❤
Se que mi lado de cuidado al prójimo me dirá que piense en el bien del resto, con ayuda a la comunidad. Pero mi lado y deseo mundano se que me dejaría caer en todos los vicios, y despilfarro con el riesgo de entrar en quiebra. Pero estamos hablando de la epoca de oro en todo sentido
Pride an desires, for it will be a better contribution to society, and those who seek to enjoy those benefits shall be able to do so. I feel like interest and purpose makes a bigger impact. For atleast I speak for myself
“Is it wrong that I’m kind of relieved you get to stay here longer?” My stomach churns and I want him off of me. His arms are tight and claustrophobic and I feel like a rat in a mouse trap. My words are a boiling acid in my throat. It hurts to hold back what I want to say. That he’s a vicious f---- curse and I want him gone. That boy, the one that whispered love poems to my heat-flushed skin and calmed the burning fire of anxiety and doubt and pain with icy hands, was dead in the dirt. I was always the one to believe that I was messed up, that there was something inherently wrong with me. That I was selfish, manipulative, strange, impatient and greedy, and that it was all my responsibility to manage it and make other people comfortable. I would tell myself, ‘No, Enid, that’s rude’ when I thought of yelling at the guy who stepped on my foot at the grocery store, bit my tongue when I was called ‘cute’ or ‘sweet’ or ‘so nice’ in that sickly sweet tone that made my lips purse against the taste of it. I’m tired of always being the bigger person. My smile splits my face open. “Can I take you out somewhere, tonight? Would that cheer you up?” As if a 70 pound steak dinner is all I need right now. I nod, and my neck hurts. It burns with how tightly my muscles are clenched. He grips my hand tighter and I want to squeeze back until the blood pops his fingertips. I should have known that he was too pretty, too perfect. I’m so angry I can’t speak, can’t squeak out any air from the tightness in my larynx. It’s growing worse by the second and I know that if I stay, if he says one more sweet, caring thing to me about my application, I will lose my gd---- mind. How fake. How bold of him to remark about being relieved of the fear that I would further my career and make connections and create the life I wanted so badly. Callum’s whole charming shell is just that-a paper thin carapace, like the one that covers a mealworm scrounging in the dry dirt. “Bathroom. Sorry.” I manage, my voice tight and thin. It sounds like the shrillest note of a violin string. I’m able to slip away from his grasp, weave through the strings of people like a rabbit gracefully fleeing a wolf. That’s what it feels like, anyways. He stares after me, eyes big and worried, and I wish I hadn’t looked back. The bathroom is small and tiled with dark, shiny ceramic pieces that reflect the yellow-orange glow of the sconces. I get a head rush as I tilt my head down, sweeping under the stalls to make sure there is no one to hear me. My hair catches on my lipgloss and something about it makes me want to scream. The person in the mirror is not me. She stares at me with the same hurt my mother wore for so many years. Staring with lips cracked and worried red, nose flaring and twitching with rapid breath. It’s all so disgusting. I want to shove my fingers down my throat to get rid of the feeling. Punch it out of me, and hope it doesn’t come back. I don’t think I can ever trust myself again and I hate that I was so stupid. I can’t decide who I hate more, myself or Callum. Which is ridiculous, it really is. Isn’t it dumb to blame myself for someone else hurting me? That I could be nice, and pretty, and trusting, and believe a man wouldn’t pounce on the opportunity? I put that own knife in my back, right? Fuck him. The girl in the mirror is ugly crying and I want to tell her to stop. Her mascara is running and she’s going to be puffy in the morning. I swipe at my mouth with the back of my hand in disgust, spit and tears glistening across the back of my hand. My chipped polish laughs back at me and I cry even harder. This is not who I wanted to be. It’s not who I am. My butt hits the cold floor and I don’t have the energy to be disgusted. I didn’t come to England to get f---- over by some man with a pretty voice and false promises. School feels like another world away and I’m so mad at him for pulling me away from it, yanking the rug out from under my feet just as I was learning how to stand. I’m not a f-- idiot. I’m not the girl he thinks I am either. All my life, from the girl cradling her broken toy on the playground, the one sobbing in the shower at her ex’s latest Instagram, to the girl in her parent’s dining room one day of senior year being told she’s not the daughter they raised, I have been so extraordinarily angry. Nothing is ever a fair fight when it’s between a girl and someone who knows they can get away with hurting her. He thinks I’m clueless, I realize, as I stare at the wall. He probably thinks I always will be. We’ll move in together, or some crap, and I’ll meet his parents. Pet his family dog, tease him about his childhood bedroom and his baby pictures, and throughout all of it he’ll know what he did. I’d probably be happy doing it, too. It’s thoroughly nauseating. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I want to slam it against the ground. I want to watch the screen splinter into tiny shards of glass, watch them scatter along the floor like a plate of falling diamonds. Callum’s name has a bubbly, pink heart next to it. Cal: You alright? I scrub at my tear stained face. It’s salty and tight. Me: i’m fine lol, give me 5 I don’t know why I’m still being so gd--- nice to him. I should’ve poured my hot coffee down his pants while I had the chance. I want to stop burying my anger deep inside my stomach, waiting for it to poison me. I want to stop feeling like a graveyard for my past selves. I want Callum to know just how ruined I feel, and just how much we could have had. I would have given it all. Anything he ever asked for. Now, instead of that cushioney, soft life, I get to take it all away, and watch the flames dance their waltz across his face as it all burns.
If i were an aristocrat, i would have no desire to rule over anyone, i would have desired the peace of solitude rather than ruling over others like cattle; but if i were to rule, it would have been just and not unjust....just as the sun shine to all regardless of their social class, i would have made reforms. The most important being the freedom of the people to elect a leader of their own, to make the system transparent......my pride would be my people and their happiness....and my desire would be to watch them thrive.
- waltz of moscow - days pass by adrian berenguer - midnight vals "" "" - baroque harpischord by rafael krux - the 5th season by nono - cinematic violins by rafael krux - first baroque etude for classical violin "" "" - ballade by patrick ussher - sad classical violin by r. krux - baroque chamber strings "" "" - serenade for strings? - first baroque prelude, r. k.
Sure, I´d enjoy the benefits to some extend, but helping my people to achieve a better life, would be the ultimate goal. Any good aristocrat should consider himself only the first among his people
Great video but we don't know the name of any songs, we can't search the song we loved which is a bit disapointing, do you think you could share us the title of the songs ? 😊
La pintura es de Adolph Menzel, no de Joseph Tomanek. Se titula 'Concierto de flauta con Federico el Grande en Sanssouci' (Flötenkonzert Friedrichs des Großen in Sanssouci)
La neta yo entré por la pintura, el que está tocando la flauta es el rey Federico II de Prusia, llamado "el rey filósofo" por su gran interés en el arte y la filosofía, a tal punto de que su corte tenía a muchos filósofos influyentes de la época e incluso tuvo amistad con Voltaire. Este man convirtió a Prusia en tremenda potencia mundial y es mi ídolo, me emocioné XD
Would you choose a good path? Or perhaps.. an evil one?
Evil one, with noble goals, as to get noble goals, you also need to sacrifice much, alot, as no good path exists with tons of sacrifices, and evil deeds.
I would choose both and none. Don't be limited by institutuonised restraints. Beauty lies in all things. The same as good and evil. The question is.... do we deserve it?
PS, whats with the wolf?
Goddammit mephisto... I'm a bottle and a half in, nothingbis happening.... ffs... bro. You getting a wedgie
It's a spectrum to me, I see there being evil and good as just contextual tools to describe the malevolence or purity of your acts/thoughts. There's also motive, so this is more open ended than it looks...
"When you do good, do it little by little. When doing evil, do it all at once" -NM
NM?
@@juanr640 New Mexico
@@juanr640 Nadolf Mitler
@@juanr640Night Mind
@@juanr640Not Me
i'm so happy i got the maturity to understand how beautiful classical music is.
Same honestly, there is something transcendent about it - something good for the mind. Happy listening!
We call it sophistication 🤵🏾♂️
See, what is the core difference between an Aristocrat and an Oligarch? The former exists precisely to improve the state of affairs, through a virtuous and honourable existence. The latter exists to satisfy his own hunger and greed, at the expense of all. Don't confuse the terms.
One is official the other is yet to undermine any system that keeps him from directly influencing politics out in the open.
I wrote this while listening. I hope someone enjoys it.
On Good and Evil
I was born in a vast ocean of black and white. But there was something else on the horizon, gray. It infected the black and white until there was nothing but gray.
I have sense taught myself how to see the different grays as individual colors, giving my world vibrant hues. When I look back at where I started and see it for what it was for me and my experience. I see a land void of everything but a tower at the center of the land. A gray tower as thin as a needle with a point sharper than anything I can imagine. On the tip is a coin balancing on its non existent edge, spinning between black and white. All sapience comes from this coin, falling in to the land of gray. All want to return to the comfort of the black and white at least once.
Many have tried but none have made it back to the coin that forever spins in the sky. I have never tried to climb the tower, if that is what it is. I might have been distressing at first but I now find content in the land of gray. Others are not so fortunate as I.
Some will take their preferred hues and claim that they are the best to black and white we can ever get back to, so we should use them in their stead for now. Others claim their preferred hues are black and white, despite the true spinning coin we can see far above us all.
But am I originally of the coin so what side of the coin do I root myself in? The cloths I chose to wear are in beautiful hues of my on devising. Is my navy blue jacket that kept me alive throughout the winter too dark? Is it more noble of me to wear my bright red shoes over the green in the summer? Is my red your red?
Such questions are never ending, but I hope I will be clad in more shades of white than black as I enter my grave. But one can only do so much in the land of gray.
hola, me gustó lo que escribiste. me podrías explicar un poco más de esta música
@@duvangrajales4146 I don't understand spanish so I used auto translate. "Hi, I liked what you wrote. Could you explain a little more about this music" If this is not what you meant please clarify.
The music is in my opinion a good representation of old European aristocracy. Which is to say being self centered and pretentious of ones moral superiority in the world.
What an intriguing painting of philosophical imagination you did there there, friend.
And.. some suspicious voices in the wind say it's not about right or wrong, it's the point of being strong enough to make a decision.
@@Grateful.for.Subscribing "some suspicious voices in the wind say it's not about right or wrong, it's the point of being strong enough to make a decision."
I believe that can be true only if it takes courage to make the choice. An easy moral choice takes no strength to hold.
I think one of the more interesting implied connotations (My opinion, hope it came a crossed). The MC can't find hope and or wrath in the land of the gray. Just distress and contentment.
Good and Evil are both subjective. If one does evil it is seen as good and as one does good it is only because they have seen evil.
Now that one knows this Good and Evil become one in the same, and no I'm not suggesting grey, I propose Balance as the neutral. Spin the coin all one likes but it only spins because of the balanced axis, the 3rd side of the coin everyone tends to overlook.
Now that One knows of this 3rd side you can no longer claim ignorance to Good being associated with Order as Evil is to Cheos. However, know that Order must have rules that are only effective if everyone obeys them and equality is given way to Neutrality less there be a hierarchy that shadows a prison. Now Cheos reins freedom to be True, absent of Order. Evil often ceases the opportunity to create their own image that's sure to create another hierarchy of inequalities through force, thus enlightening a reverse-guilded cage forcing out Freedom.
So you see, it's in Neutral Balance that One must find that keeps the coin spinning in perfect harmony. ^^
Creative writing part I:
The Countess.
The Countess sat alone in her carriage, swaying sporadically as it rode over the uneven cobblestone roads. Her coachman was taking a shortcut through the back-alleys as she was late to her event. She knew these roads well, the stench of the brown puddles, the coarseness of the soot-stained buildings, and the hollowed looks of those who wandered these streets were a distant memory of her childhood, but still engrained in her mind. She was one out of a thousand to have escaped the underbelly of the capital, but at what cost. The Countess looked back down at her invitation card. It was smooth and the edges were gilt. Written in ink cursive calligraphy, the invitation read:
The esteemed Countess Rosalie von Rhedey is most cordially invited to attend the salon of her Imperial and Royal Highness, the Grand Princess Cecilie.
What a world she had now entered. Gone are the days where she had to ration and scavenge the dark alleyways, now she drank champagne and laughed elegantly behind feathered fans in golden ballrooms or silk drawing rooms in front of those who had daggers in their smiles and venom in their eyes.
The Countess sighed and looked out the window. She began to see street lights now and electricity from windows. the roads got smoother and more crowded. She could hear laughter and chatter from the pedestrians, now smartly dressed on their evening stroll. She looked out in envy. She would have been perfectly content to be like them. They were not starving and they did not have to deal with the vicious jealousy of others. She had lived the two extremes of wealth, she only wished she could have been in the middle. As she daydreamed, she realised she had arrived at her destination.
A line of carriages parked in front of the entrance to Grand Princess Cecilie's vast palace. The Countess' coachman, did the same and helped open the door of the carriage to let his lady out. However, she stayed. The Countess did not move. She wondered if she wanted to be there or change her mind and return home in the safe company of her children. The coachman noticed the hesitance.
"Courage Madame," he said, reaching his hand out for her to take.
The Countess looked at her coachman. He was middle aged and greying. His face and wrinkles show the hardships he had gone through in his life, yet his eyes were full of encouragement and the fire of life. She smiled, took his hand, and stepped out of the carriage. She inhaled and exhaled and looked up at the palace. It was like a vast greek marble temple with all the light in the world emanating from it. Towards this light, she began to walk towards.
As she entered the palace, she felt a shiver down her spine, even though she was still wearing her fur overcoat. The venomous eyes have already began to stare.
The footman helped take her jacket off and carry it off to a distant coat room. She wore a stunning silver thread dress, of the latest fashions, that shined under the sparkling chandeliers. The Countess could hear gasps in awe of her choice of clothing. Indeed there were sometimes satisfaction in coming to events like this.
She then ascended the steps and down a hall, following the sounds of animated chatter, laughter, and champagne clinking until she entered a brightly lit salon. As she entered she gave her invitation card to the footman at the door who loudly announced her pressence.
Silence then descended the salon. A lone spotlight shone over the Countess as she saw every malicious eye turn slowly towards her. The Countess could feel her heart racing and her hand clench her fan.
Suddenly, a shriek of excitement shattered the silence, as a young and lively lady came from the adjoining salon. "Rosa!" the lady exclaimed with enthusiasm as she quickly scurried towards the Countess, her hands reaching out to greet her.
The Countess smiled, relieved a friend was there to greet her. "It's good to see you Duchess", she said curtseying.
"Please, you know you can call me my name, Rosa," the Duchess said, with a smile.
The Countess smiled and walked hand in hand with the Duchess towards the doors of the adjoining salon. In there was a smaller more intimate crowd who seemed to gravitate towards one person.
Sat on a chez lounge in the middle of the room, surrounded by various admirers was another young lady, dressed in a bright and lively pink. She had pearls cascading down her golden curls and ocean blue eyes that turned to look directly at the Countess.
“Rosa, my dear,” the lady said in a sultry and smooth voice, rising from her seat swiftly and glided towards the Countess.
“Your highness,” the countess said, deeply curtsying and kissing the ring on the Grand Princess’ hand.
“My dear friend, I’m so relieved you have arrived,” the Grand Princess whispered into her ear. “These dandies have become frightfully dull and I needed a wit to keep my senses awake.”
“I am always at you beck and call Ceci,” the countess responded.
The Grand Princess smiled, and waved over to a footman to bring her a box of cigarets. From the box she plucked two out and lit them both before passing one to the Countess. The Grand Princess took a puff of her cigaret and let the smoke float out of her mouth, to the delight of her admirers that sat at a distance admiring the Grand Princess’ beauty. The Duchess, seeing this, proceeded to shoo the men out of the room, leaving the three ladies alone.
“My dear Rosa,” the Grand Princess said, breathing out smoke, “You have to be careful from here on out.”
“Why?” The countess said, taking a flute of champagne from a footman’s platter, “is something the matter?”
“We hear that Grand Duke is going to be the target of an assassination,” the innocent looking Duchess said.
“From whom?” the Countess said, furrowing her brow.
“The Captain of the Imperial Guards have informed me that they are doubling the security in Castell for the sake of the Grand Duke’s safety,” the Grand Princess explained.
“They have soldiers protecting the boarders of his territories and his residence here in the capital,” the Duchess continued to explained as she fidgeted with her hands.
“You may not be able to enter his lands and his residences so easily anymore my dear,” the Grand Princess said, putting her hand on the Countess’ shoulder.
The Countess looked down at the intricately designed carpet. She knew that there would come a day where she would be left in the dark by the man she loved, she just wished it had not come so soon. She knew that once he had distanced himself from her, the rest of the aristocratic world was more than ready to pounce on her. But it wasn’t even her own safety that she feared. It was the safety of her children that worried her. Fear soon clouded the Countess’ mind, and she stood silently and motionless as she let the situation settle in her mind
Her friends, the only people she could trust amidst the ocean of circling sharks, let her be and waited for her to process in silence.
However, amidst the silence of the room, the sound of another guest being announced could be heard.
“Announcing the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess von Rhine-Castell have arrived.”
The Countess’ ears perked and her friends turned towards her to see what she would do.
The Countess hesitated. Should she talk to him? In broad daylight? In the company of those who prayed for her downfall?
She put her champagne flute down on the table besides her firmly, and straightened out of her dress and confidently approached the door. The Grand Princess and the Duchess followed closely behind before the three exited the salon together.
part II:
Into the grand salon, the three ladies sauntered, with elegance and grace. They were greeted by the smiles of other guests of the Grand Princess’ gathered, but as she passed them by she could hear the jealous whispers of the onlookers.
“How did a harlot like her become so close to our esteemed Grand Princess?” Whispered an onlooker.
“The title of Countess can never mask her origins as a lowly prostitute,” another guest whispered behind her fan.
The Countess was used to these comments, and she had become numb to these useless words.
The three ladies, led by the Grand Princess glided over towards the Grand Duke and his young and newly wed wife, the Grand Duchess. The Duchess and the Countess curtsied while the Grand Princess reached her hand out for the tall and well groomed Grand Duke to take and kiss as he bowed.
“My dearest Grand Duke,” the Grand Princess said with a wry smile, “It is so good of you to come under your circumstances.”
“Your Imperial Highness,” the Grand Duke said with haughtiness and swag, “I would never miss you gatherings for the world, especially when I have some unfinished business here.”
The Countess looked up towards the towering man. Whenever her solemn grey eyes met his bright and lively emerald green eyes, the room and the crowd around them always seemed to disappear. And when he smiled, she felt like she was the only girl in the world.
“I miss you,” his lips mouthed silently, but it was as if she could hear him say those words so clearly.
She could feel her ears go hot and she quickly placed away. Her surroundings came back into view and the chatter of the onlookers became audible again.
“Grand Duke, your wife’s debut the other day was quite the event, I am ever so sorry to have missed it,”the Grand Princess said, as the Countess’ attention returned.
“While we were sad that you were not able to attend, we are quite flattered you should invite us into your company tonight your Highness,” the Grand Duchess said in a quiet and unassuming voice.
The Countess looked at her. She seemed frail, frightened, and very young. Her hair was long, and platinum blonde, almost white. She was beautiful, but she looked like a wilted lily. Her eyes were empty and lifeless. The Countess pitied her. She heard from the Grand Duke that this marriage was a politically arranged one between the two families. “My mother had willed it,” she remember hearing him say to her on one of the nights she had spent with him. A now distant memory.
The Grand Princess soon parted company from the Grand Duke and began to speak with the other guests. The Countess’ eyes followed the grand Duke around the room, watching where he was going.
When his eyes finally caught hers, they knew they had to be alone together. He began to walk towards the empty salon next door and the Countess was ready to pursue. As she began to walk away a hand reached out to her and gently tugged at her wrist.
“Be careful,” the duchess said. Her eyes were full of worry.
“I will,” the Countess said, reassuring her friend.
She then walked towards the door. She could feel the eyes of judgement disappear, knowing that behind the door was the man she loved.
As she entered she saw him, in the middle of the room, towering and imposing.
She walked towards him and hugged him. But he didn’t hug back.
He was stiff. Almost too stiff. She looked back up at him. His eyes were straining and his veins bulging.
The countess took a step back before the man collapsed as her feet and his spluttered blood from his mouth.
The Countess was stunned as the man began to writhe in pain at her feet. She couldn’t even let out a gasp from her mouth.
Then suddenly the doors opened behind her and a shriek pierced the air. The Grand Duchess stood in abject horror and her hands covering her mouth.
The crowds gathered behind her, gasping, and screaming “Murderer!”
The Countess went white and faint as the guards and footman began to flood the room.
Her arm was taken by one of the guards and she was held to the ground. She couldn’t even react to what was happening before her eyes. The Grand Princess and the Duchess could be seen being ushered away. Her friends calling her name.
The Countess did not understand what was going on until she saw, from the corner of her eye, the Grand Duchess.
The wilted lily who shrieked and alerted the crowds was smiling behind the cover of her hands.
@@jonathanlee4511 You write excellently, I hope you will publish your pieces one day. Reading this-I lost track of time and found myself immersed into a world of decadence and debauchery; I felt as if I was there myself. You have incredible talent and write with such immersive imagery. Thank you for sharing this masterpiece with the world, I hope you will take up writing as your profession or do something similar that you enjoy-you are a true virtuoso!
@@dire-decadence haha thank you for your comment. It made my day. I would publish, but I never know where haha.
@@jonathanlee4511 I'm glad to hear it-I used to write short stories but eventually stopped which was folly, I was very skilled when I was younger and had a natural inclination towards it-my advice is to never stop writing, you really could do something special! Maybe make a website or post it on a website that posts stories(I don't know any though) or keep it on paper; whatever suits you best. I really hope you keep on writing though man, it's been a while since I enjoyed something so much.
@@dire-decadence thanks for the encouragement.
1. 0:00 Baroque Chamber Strings [Slowed / Versión ralentizada] - Rafael Krux.
2. 2:25 Waltz of The Moscow Strings - Rafael Krux.
3. 4:30 First Baroque Prelude For Classical Violin - Rafael Krux.
4. 5:33 Days Pass (del álbum: The Art Of Loneliness) - Adrian Berenguer.
5. 8:29 Midnight Vals (del álbum: Still Life) - Adrian Berenguer.
6. 10:35 Baroque Harpsichord - Rafael Krux.
7. 12:39 The 5th Season - Nono.
8. 14:45 Cinematic Classical Violin - Rafael Krux.
9. 18:34 First Baroque Etude for Classical Violin - Rafael Krux.
10. 20:49 Ballade - Patrick Ussher.
11. 24:21 Sad Classical Violin Solo - Rafael Krux.
[29:23 Repetición]
1. 29:23 Baroque Chamber Strings [Slowed / Versión ralentizada] - Rafael Krux.
2. 31:30 Waltz of The Moscow Strings - Rafael Krux.
3. 33:35 First Baroque Prelude For Classical Violin - Rafael Krux.
4. 34:38 Days Pass (del álbum: The Art Of Loneliness) - Adrian Berenguer.
5. 37:34 Midnight Vals (del álbum: Still Life) - Adrian Berenguer.
6. 39:40 Baroque Harpsichord - Rafael Krux.
7. 41:43 The 5th Season - Nono.
8. 43:51 Cinematic Classical Violin - Rafael Krux.
9. 47:43 First Baroque Etude for Classical Violin - Rafael Krux.
10. 49:54 Ballade - Patrick Ussher.
11. 53:26 Sad Classical Violin Solo - Rafael Krux.
[Tema de cierre]
58:20 Baroque Chamber Strings [Versión original] - Rafael Krux.
Thank you.
Gracias
Muito obrigado, meu caro... Você é um anjo!
You're an angel
Спасибо большое ❤
- waltz of moscow
- days pass by adrian berenguer
- midnight vals "" ""
- baroque harpischord by rafael krux
- the 5th season by nono
- cinematic violins by rafael krux
- first baroque etude for classical violin "" ""
- ballade by patrick ussher
- sad classical violin by r. krux
- baroque chamber strings "" ""
- serenade for strings?
- first baroque prelude, r. k.
Which one is this from 10:36?
@@polishbread471 i made a mistake, its baroque harpsichord (but without strings) th-cam.com/video/w0wcXsKx8io/w-d-xo.html
You are a true lover of classical music ❤
goat
Thank You so much
honestly, if i woke up as one, i'd panic and see if we have running water and then scream or sigh in relief just to get a sense of which century i turned up in
😂 I definitely understand why! Everything was beautiful but the people I'm sure was quite funky and drenched in perfume😅
@@1hinitaNo running water, no electricity, and substandard medical care.... No thanks.
What a elite class of comments I have came across.....such deep and intellectual way and skillful comments side of YT ....i really like it
..✨✨
As someone descended from aristocracy, I like to use this to help me connect with my ancestors' ways of living. Thank you!
I too descend from aristocrats. I’m now dirt poor. What a fall from grace
@@Eppursi the soul can't fall from grace... never lose your sense of nobility!
@@Eppursifunny how social orders can change like that, huh? We should turn it back…
Господи! Какая божественная музыка! Не слышал ее ранее. Я просто таю. Млею от восторга. Огромное спасибо! Классика и создавалась вообщем то для аристократии и почти всегда аристократами, для узкого круга избранных посвященных в ее таинство. Таинство и магию Красоты.
"Музыку пишет народ".Так говорил Глинка для не быдла)))
@@deniskrasilnlkov5184 Звучит очень Социалистически.
Even to those who wish to do good, there is the ever lasting threat of getting lost in distinguishing between what is a need, what is luxury, and what is desire.
One must be careful, for the mind will often attempt to cast away morality when it isn't in its interest.
How can we know that we've lost sight? Or that our sight is still pure? And once we do gain clarity, the responsibility of having such wealth, and power...Is often too much for our minds to bear if we're not prepared.
However, there is a thought which can easily keep us in check. It doesn't matter when or where we wake up, we will still have the memories of what happened to those in the aristocracy which abused their positions to its limit. The fate of our heads, lie within our ability to contain the human condition within ourselves, and those who eye our every move.
Note: I wrote this while listening to this wonderful playlist. Enjoy!
•I am a noble•
I am sitting on a fancy chair in this room, filled with people of our society. A society of fake words, lies and dumb discussions about the weather. Just by looking at them, you recognize the lies they are about to tell you, the nice compliments they are about to throw at you like arrows. And when you move away from their presence, turning your back, their faces morph into disgust and their tongues vomit out, to other people, the true thoughts about you. Sickness. A remarcable society of sickness.
But, I must say that at least I am not like the unfortunate poor ones. I am gifted to be in this delicate, yet disgusting community of delusional people. But the unfortunate ones, aren't as gifted.
At least, I am choosing to wear the most beautiful dresses, be surrounded by a bunch of personalities and be part of the most sophisticated parties. But, for what? Just to hear these idiots talk behind my back?! Just to see that they all are wearing masks of a perfect reality?! HA! Perfect?! Their brains transformed into mashed potates and are being eaten by bugs.
Of course, I am one of the noble ones! I am supposed to be attending all of the disscusions, parties, concerts, theatre presentations, like all of this matters. I am surrounded by beauty material objects, yes. BUT WHERE IS MY GODDAMN FREEDOM?! Where is it?!
I wish I could carve a big smile on the faces of the ones who fake it, transform all their calculated thoughts into madness, make them spill tears of regret, anger and forgivness. Make them beg for all the evil they done, all the ignorance, all the mistakes, every little wrong move they did.
In the end, I am maybe one of them. A evil beauty, who makes the poor ones cry. I may have done the same dark wrongs as them, bring the same amount of tears, on other's faces, as them.
Because, in the end, I am a noble. I know my place.
Well written in many aspects with some minor spelling errors that are neglectable in the grand scheme of things, but carrying quite the bland and overdone message of "nobility bad, lazy & fake - proletariat oppressed and suffering". Idk, you could've taken it in a american psycho direction (still unoriginal), a shadow society direction with purists and reformists clashing verbally at social gatherings, or a philosophical approach of directly calling out how depravity, destrudo and bastardization via approximation is inherent human nature that only gets elevated to it's extremes once the opportunity arises, no matter whether noble by birth or noble by merit...
Then again I like the way you ended it. Showing innate complacency is a clever touch especially considering how you described nobility beforehand. 6-7/10 imo
@@v.e.l.pianist7848My persona agrees with this rating to its fullest extent.
To answer that question, I would reply:
One does not reveal his cards readily. Only sit and experience the end result.
this is great, it gives pre-revolutionary france vibes
back when there was sweetness in living
ok really when girlie started speaking at 56:01 I nearly jumped out of my chair, especially cuz i was wearing earphones
Guys i searched and that first song is named: Baroque Chamber Strings from Rafael Krux
lifesaver ty dude
This one speaks volumes to me, in a way that would be a little esoteric to describe 😅...
Very nice work
Lucifer energy.
Can you please expound? 🙏🏻
THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE THIS PLAYLIST AND WHEN THEY DELETED IT I WAS DEVASTATED
i appreciate the intro and the clapping. not many things have inspired me much recently
i love it when they make you believe it's a 1 hour compilation when it's just two 30 min stuck together
I have given the world my all, it took everything from me. I shall take everything from the world; take and take and take until nothing is left. My path is clear we shall take everything from them, leave them wanting. We shall play them like puppets we live for a standing ovation you’ll die for one. You are coming upon your final act. I’ll be reborn for the role. You scream of friendship but what has that ever gotten you hero sadness and pain?
Muy buenas piezas mis estimados, lamentablemente no me puedo quedar pero volveré para escuchar el resto, fue un gusto señores
Y bien estimado desconocido; logro completar el deguste de estas bellas piezas?
quisiera saber su opinion hacerca de ellas si no le parece imprudente.
-una oyente...
Я в 40 лет созрел для этой музыки , привет из Москвы 🇷🇺
Classical music, with its grand compositions and intricate melodies,
has long been associated with the aristocratic circles of the past,
where elegance and sophistication reigned supreme.
The answer question of what I would be were I a man of class in the past is no different to the answer of the question of what I am considering I am a man of class now. I would be reformed from my dark past and passionately engaging in the battle of justice against the forces of evil and deception. I would raise my sword in the name of a cause higher than I. All I have left is my life. If I loose even that, it shall not be in vain. There is no weakness in goodness; true goodness is fueled by the same ferocious pathos that makes the mountains crumble and the earth give way. That is the cause for which I would raise my sword against the countless daemons that fill and surround me.
i love the claps scattered in the video, so well fitted indeed :)
Das Flötenkonzert Friedrichs des Großen in Sanssouci (Frederick the Great's Flute Concerto at Sanssouci), 1850-1852, National Gallery, Berlin. The painter is German
How to study becomes elegant and aristocratic with a song. I love it. 💖
Creative verse I want to share:
----------------------------------------------------------------
I saw them, they were swimming on their axis, but not down, but up.
Very high.
Their colors were earthly, but they were up there.
Very high.
They were real, though I could never touch them, my eyes never left the movement. It was strange.
Why do I see this?
Would Van Gogh have painted this if he had dreamed it? or maybe Monet? I know Rembrandt wouldn't do it, nor would Caravaggio.
I wonder if my head was taken by someone else to be watching this or if it's really me?
I will never know.
Now I see it, but tomorrow I won't, and neither will the day after, just once I would like to take a photo of this, but my eyes are the only ones that will seal this moment and forget it.
I hope someone knows what I'm talking about.
You see it?
I can't anymore.
Maybe that's why they're writing about me, because I don't know how to do it anymore.
IM up.
Very high.
Close to what I once saw.
I will invite you, first in the same way that I received the invitation and then, by themselves.
Thank you for not letting me forget it writer, it's not time yet but you were already invited.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
pdt: I'm still looking for a name, if anyone has an idea it would help me a lot for my class. 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
I love aristocratic music
4:29 Legendary Part
Sounds like it feels pretty good
Gorgeous music. Sign me up
Por favor sube mas, que maravillosa seleccion. Gracias por este hermoso contenido.
애미
31:30 the grand music
"Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves." - Lestat
This is the best of all playlists! Fantastic :)
I really love this playlist, big respect!
Please do more of this :)
What a playlist. Extraordinary introduction.
"No need to find answers in the heaven
There is force, thats called Reason
And you are able to weigh the Good and Evil on the scales"
The waltz at 8:28 is a true vibe.
SONG TITLES! PLEASE! PLEASE!
One of the best compilations on TH-cam!
This is the top tier playlist thanks
Thank you .
Espeldindo ❤ sinceramente no me esperaba tan buena selección y encontré una joya, gracias totales ❤🎉🎉
I've never listened to Rafael Krux's pieces before ur channel, and just wow. They're literally all bangers, anyone care to give me a little history lesson on Krux?
Succession vibes
Great playlist!
Your taste is quite exquisite if I do say so myself
que bonita música, siempre me ha llamado este tipo de música, pero una vez empiezas a sentirla y no a escucharla, es capaz de transmitir las emociones que desprenden esas frecuencias sonoras, es algo fascinante el cual estoy muy agradecido de poder sentirlo.
This is so good, I love it. You have a new suscriber.
GREAT PLAYLIST
La primer imagen es de el Rey Federico II de Prusia tocando la flauta. No solo fue un gran estratega militar, también era un artista y lo admiro mucho muchisimo ❤
8:40 sounds so much like A cure for Wellness
of course❤
Se que mi lado de cuidado al prójimo me dirá que piense en el bien del resto, con ayuda a la comunidad.
Pero mi lado y deseo mundano se que me dejaría caer en todos los vicios, y despilfarro con el riesgo de entrar en quiebra. Pero estamos hablando de la epoca de oro en todo sentido
¡Lo necesito en Spotify! Esta playlist es simplemente alucinante, me encanta.
Pride an desires, for it will be a better contribution to society, and those who seek to enjoy those benefits shall be able to do so. I feel like interest and purpose makes a bigger impact. For atleast I speak for myself
De las mejores playlist que he escuchado, gracias!
“Is it wrong that I’m kind of relieved you get to stay here longer?”
My stomach churns and I want him off of me. His arms are tight and claustrophobic and I feel like a rat in a mouse trap.
My words are a boiling acid in my throat. It hurts to hold back what I want to say. That he’s a vicious f---- curse and I want him gone. That boy, the one that whispered love poems to my heat-flushed skin and calmed the burning fire of anxiety and doubt and pain with icy hands, was dead in the dirt.
I was always the one to believe that I was messed up, that there was something inherently wrong with me. That I was selfish, manipulative, strange, impatient and greedy, and that it was all my responsibility to manage it and make other people comfortable. I would tell myself, ‘No, Enid, that’s rude’ when I thought of yelling at the guy who stepped on my foot at the grocery store, bit my tongue when I was called ‘cute’ or ‘sweet’ or ‘so nice’ in that sickly sweet tone that made my lips purse against the taste of it.
I’m tired of always being the bigger person.
My smile splits my face open.
“Can I take you out somewhere, tonight? Would that cheer you up?”
As if a 70 pound steak dinner is all I need right now.
I nod, and my neck hurts. It burns with how tightly my muscles are clenched.
He grips my hand tighter and I want to squeeze back until the blood pops his fingertips. I should have known that he was too pretty, too perfect.
I’m so angry I can’t speak, can’t squeak out any air from the tightness in my larynx. It’s growing worse by the second and I know that if I stay, if he says one more sweet, caring thing to me about my application, I will lose my gd---- mind.
How fake. How bold of him to remark about being relieved of the fear that I would further my career and make connections and create the life I wanted so badly.
Callum’s whole charming shell is just that-a paper thin carapace, like the one that covers a mealworm scrounging in the dry dirt.
“Bathroom. Sorry.” I manage, my voice tight and thin. It sounds like the shrillest note of a violin string.
I’m able to slip away from his grasp, weave through the strings of people like a rabbit gracefully fleeing a wolf. That’s what it feels like, anyways. He stares after me, eyes big and worried, and I wish I hadn’t looked back.
The bathroom is small and tiled with dark, shiny ceramic pieces that reflect the yellow-orange glow of the sconces. I get a head rush as I tilt my head down, sweeping under the stalls to make sure there is no one to hear me. My hair catches on my lipgloss and something about it makes me want to scream.
The person in the mirror is not me. She stares at me with the same hurt my mother wore for so many years.
Staring with lips cracked and worried red, nose flaring and twitching with rapid breath.
It’s all so disgusting. I want to shove my fingers down my throat to get rid of the feeling. Punch it out of me, and hope it doesn’t come back. I don’t think I can ever trust myself again and I hate that I was so stupid. I can’t decide who I hate more, myself or Callum.
Which is ridiculous, it really is. Isn’t it dumb to blame myself for someone else hurting me? That I could be nice, and pretty, and trusting, and believe a man wouldn’t pounce on the opportunity?
I put that own knife in my back, right?
Fuck him.
The girl in the mirror is ugly crying and I want to tell her to stop. Her mascara is running and she’s going to be puffy in the morning.
I swipe at my mouth with the back of my hand in disgust, spit and tears glistening across the back of my hand. My chipped polish laughs back at me and I cry even harder.
This is not who I wanted to be. It’s not who I am.
My butt hits the cold floor and I don’t have the energy to be disgusted.
I didn’t come to England to get f---- over by some man with a pretty voice and false promises. School feels like another world away and I’m so mad at him for pulling me away from it, yanking the rug out from under my feet just as I was learning how to stand.
I’m not a f-- idiot. I’m not the girl he thinks I am either.
All my life, from the girl cradling her broken toy on the playground, the one sobbing in the shower at her ex’s latest Instagram, to the girl in her parent’s dining room one day of senior year being told she’s not the daughter they raised, I have been so extraordinarily angry. Nothing is ever a fair fight when it’s between a girl and someone who knows they can get away with hurting her.
He thinks I’m clueless, I realize, as I stare at the wall. He probably thinks I always will be. We’ll move in together, or some crap, and I’ll meet his parents. Pet his family dog, tease him about his childhood bedroom and his baby pictures, and throughout all of it he’ll know what he did. I’d probably be happy doing it, too. It’s thoroughly nauseating.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I want to slam it against the ground. I want to watch the screen splinter into tiny shards of glass, watch them scatter along the floor like a plate of falling diamonds. Callum’s name has a bubbly, pink heart next to it.
Cal: You alright?
I scrub at my tear stained face. It’s salty and tight.
Me: i’m fine lol, give me 5
I don’t know why I’m still being so gd--- nice to him. I should’ve poured my hot coffee down his pants while I had the chance.
I want to stop burying my anger deep inside my stomach, waiting for it to poison me. I want to stop feeling like a graveyard for my past selves. I want Callum to know just how ruined I feel, and just how much we could have had.
I would have given it all. Anything he ever asked for.
Now, instead of that cushioney, soft life, I get to take it all away, and watch the flames dance their waltz across his face as it all burns.
hermoso! gracias por compartir, la belleza!
I LOVED THIS!!!!
What a fulfilling source of inspiration, thank you.
Nice n Spooky
If i were an aristocrat, i would have no desire to rule over anyone, i would have desired the peace of solitude rather than ruling over others like cattle; but if i were to rule, it would have been just and not unjust....just as the sun shine to all regardless of their social class, i would have made reforms.
The most important being the freedom of the people to elect a leader of their own, to make the system transparent......my pride would be my people and their happiness....and my desire would be to watch them thrive.
¿Cuál es la lista de piezas? Muy buena selección musical
- waltz of moscow
- days pass by adrian berenguer
- midnight vals "" ""
- baroque harpischord by rafael krux
- the 5th season by nono
- cinematic violins by rafael krux
- first baroque etude for classical violin "" ""
- ballade by patrick ussher
- sad classical violin by r. krux
- baroque chamber strings "" ""
- serenade for strings?
- first baroque prelude, r. k.
I'm a high school lover
And you're my favorite flavor
Love is all, all my soul
You're my playground -of pride and desires- **love**
creative one.
Acabo de descubrir tu canal, me encanta tu contenido, nueva suscriptora!!
Makes me think clearly
Love the compilation
And I'm feeling a little better now, my dear.
Feels like an episode of Succession.
Beautiful music. Thanks.
A Good path, through an Evil one
Always good.
I'd happily do some good. That way, nobody is bothered when a little evil gets slipped into the mix. They'll still love me.
Lovely, soothing, relaxing, each note a touch on one's heart and spirit. Lovely art❣🥰
Legendary❤❤❤
Beautiful Music (Música Bonita) 🎶🎻🎹🎷🎺🎵🎶
Awesome work thanks for sharing
best Playlist
Perfection
Excelente música. Congratulations🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷
This makes me feel like I’m part of the elite society depicted in ‘Juliette’ by le Marquis de Sade.
Sure, I´d enjoy the benefits to some extend, but helping my people to achieve a better life, would be the ultimate goal. Any good aristocrat should consider himself only the first among his people
Amazing playlist! i love it❤
Que eleccion de temas tan maravillosa
Love this!
7:45 oh my GOD ❤!!
muy buena pregunta mi estimado .
Que buen inicio!
20:50
Que hermoso play list!! Saludos hermano humanos
Their *Mal de Vivre* maybe linked to the unavoidable condition of Aristocratic they don't choose to be.
They however can choose to be good ☺️
Great video but we don't know the name of any songs, we can't search the song we loved which is a bit disapointing, do you think you could share us the title of the songs ? 😊
Yes, if these are original works, fine. Please credit the music if these are compiled of others music.
Desde Buenos Aires: re bueno!! Gracias 🙏
¿Hay alguna forma de saber cuáles son las piezas que se tocan en el vídeo? Son impresionantes !!
Gostaria de saber também
Me two
shazam existe desde antes de los dinosaurios
Me encanto que bellas melodías me tocaron el.corazon❤ gracias
La pintura es de Adolph Menzel, no de Joseph Tomanek.
Se titula 'Concierto de flauta con Federico el Grande en Sanssouci' (Flötenkonzert Friedrichs des Großen in Sanssouci)
Despite the cringe start I liked the playlist
It's not really cringe bru it's just not that necessary
@@Blades69294 7 others cringed, so I'm not the only one xD
@@CaesarsLegion1 13*
La neta yo entré por la pintura, el que está tocando la flauta es el rey Federico II de Prusia, llamado "el rey filósofo" por su gran interés en el arte y la filosofía, a tal punto de que su corte tenía a muchos filósofos influyentes de la época e incluso tuvo amistad con Voltaire.
Este man convirtió a Prusia en tremenda potencia mundial y es mi ídolo, me emocioné XD