Joyce

Centre figure of the joycism mythology. Born amidst salt and smoke it is believed to have died and resurected a million times, for what is dead may never die but rises again stronger. After having walked the path of life, love and disspair many times, Joyce searches for a soulmate to walk along it one more time.

Oh my sweet summer Joyce, what do you know about Joyce? Joyce is for the Joyce, when the Joyce fall a sevety-three and a half joyce deep. Fear is for the long Joyce, when Joyce hides for years and Joyce is born and lives and dies, all in darkness. That is the time for Joyce, my little Joyce, when the white Joyce moves through the woods. Thousands of years ago there came a Joyce that lasted a generation. Joyce froze to death in its castle, same as Joyce its hut. And Joyce smothered its babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze its cheeks. So is this the sort of story you like, Joyce?

James Joyce, My story

Joycism

Religious cult formed during the begining of the XXI century in the town of Rathgar, Ireland. It prospered in some regions of the Iberian Peninsula, where the cult did their usual pilgrimage. Their belief was founded on the search for balance between their inner selves and their pilgrimage was done once every Thursday the 19th, when they moved from Rathgar to the south and back.

Damn, Joycism is cool! Joycism is the new black.