I find myself partially in one or two or several worlds, always. Places where language is fluid…disjointed syntax and liberally adjusted grammar. In and out of the ether. In and out of my body. I’ve come to a point where I no longer have the energy or desire to be anything but myself, and sometimes I am difficult to pin. I don’t like introductions or “About Me’s” in the slightest. An abstract old spirit in a fun, young body. Youth isn’t always wasted on the young! The only purpose of this blog is to express…to make a little sense of my existence or at least maintain a record for myself. How else do we learn, if not from history? And about ourselves if not from our own? The moods will vary. The language will fluctuate and there will be periods of silence or just pictures or bullet point lists. I have been reborn recently; my only desire now is to continue growing as myself in the most fearless and sincere manner possible.
I smelled you on the autumn leaves, the breeze tantalizing and snaking through the trees, a serpentine trail bringing me to my knees and whispering “please.”
I can feel you here, in my shaking hands and sea-salt tears.
To be here without you all these years has been…empty and confusing. I look for you in every face, every doorway, every painting and frame as if this lifetime I would recognize your countenance or name.
It’s a shame, really. I am ruined for anything but consuming love and passion, for anyone but the new body you walk in. From time to time I remind myself of reality, because old soulmates from past lives aren’t something to look for here, but I can’t help it.
I wish to untangle myself, loosen the knots now molded together at my center
I’m suffocating. My jaw aches with tears that will not come and I do not know how to call the anger forth to me, how to summon my heartbreak to the surface that I might free it.
Everything feels disjointed and insincere! As if, at the core, I am empty and void of anything real. I cannot touch my own wounds and this leaves my joys shallow and short-lived.
I know I am sad in the way I know that breathing is an involuntary and automatic function. I am lonely, I am blessed and content.
This is rhythmless and lacking melody, it’s emotionless the way I used to be. I do not desire to fall back into the robotic habits of protection. The old fortress is now a ruinous impediment…how do I dismantle it?
My jaw aches with tears that refuse to come, ones that for once I want. There is an old sadness in me and I long for it to spill out in a great flood.
Empty me, exhaust me, ruin the levies and drown the ruins of old walls. They aren’t protecting me anymore! An impediment, brittle and stubborn around my heart and soul. I see myself pounding the glass. My face is contorted strangely in the mirror, an ugly reflection trying to feel. I am trying to be sincere, trying to be open fully. I must have suffered greatly at some point in my karmic past to come here with the framework ready…and I know this life was unkind in many ways. I’m ready and looking to thrive when my being is still weary of easy survival.
Coming into myself and into my grace
Just faith…and so different than what I believed it to be
Not sky-blue, store-bought frosting
But self-harvested sugar, scraped from the cane as I am born again
Whipped with butter churned from my struggles
Made into something enitrely new
No longer afraid to lose myself in the web
I AM the web
Angelface the Weaver
I keep expecting something big & poetic,
A wild vision of kinetic energy in motion
A potion, a barrage of emotion
Indeed I am alone in the ocean; not really treading, just barely floating
I came to this place to confront my fear, for some reason I thought it would manifest here
As a demon, as semen, as something unseen
As something once breathing, a liar, or teasing
But I’m sinking in the feeling it’s something less tangible, a little less manageable
And aching to be forgotten! Enticing me to drop it, inviting me to stop it instead of just stopping “It.”
I can’t quit!
The language here is dicey, but my god! The consequences pricey; paying rent to old captors when my spirit is so feisty? Come and fight! You can find me, I’ll be glowing; maybe crying, never slowing.
I am not sorry! I am not. I am not damaged or afraid, I am not weak or less or maimed. I remain, I remain. I am not beholden, or frigid, or frozen by your touch or entitlement.
I am above it! I cut it! Sword of Justice, light as a feather. Borrowed from Michael, you’ll never forget her…I decided to keep her. I’m a KEEPER! I’M A KEY, I AM A SEER, A FREER! I AM FREE, YES! (Angels and guides here) WE FREED HER! WE ALWAYS KNEW YOU WOULD BE HER! (Back to me)
Can you see her?
I am not bad for my existence, or a killer because my kisses are intoxicating
Yes, I may be a temptress
A soothing balm for all your messes, but I refuse to be your Atlas, not required to be your map-quest
And I am not too soft or shiny to call on my mother, Lilith! Crying out for strength and power when you’ve overstepped your boundaries
But…I have risen above lashing out in anger
You’ve trespassed my body and for a while I felt scars rising on my heart, threatening to mark my soul – it is un-mar-able.
I cut away the layers I’d made and found myself reborn, whole!
I will not be praying for you or preying on you or owned by you ~ I do not fear you or fear for you!
I am…emergent? I am emerging victorious, Venus on the foamy shore!
Screaming! Screaming Victory! The tar-heart of Beauregard dripping at my feet.
I am fearless and full, and I see the darkness in myself. I am soft and silly, plain spoken and young. I am ancient and complex, an ocean of ONE.
I am maiden, mother, Crone
I need not do it all on my own
My flow, indeed it is OUR flow! Connected to all the rich blood of my cycle, of old magick, of death, of allure, of black velvet richness.
And that is not – naught in the world is! – exclusive to the closed connotations crafted of fearful expectations and shallow understanding perpetuated by people who can only exist in boxes and segments and liminal spaces.
By knowing this I understand that I know nothing!
Oh! I do not fear the Morrigan, or Lilith, or Kali! I do not hide from myself facets of Hekate! I no longer shudder when I am compared to Her! Ha! To see such power, such fire…such infinite love, to be recognized as a spirit of such…as a goddess of creation and destruction…I find my purpose in their reflection!
I DO NOT RUN FROM LEI NYRA OR ODALÏ, or Circe, or any part/one of me. I do not deny the light of Saint Michael the Archangel in all of his glory or calm silliness. Nothing is conditional and I am infinite!
I do not deny Cernunnos, or Apollo, or Hypnos…but especially Cernunnos, the Hunter! The passionate, wild masculine.
Indeed I need balance that way, I can say it! I trust myself to know it in my presence.
I can be all pieces of myself cohesively…I am and I must be!
I needed to know that together these pieces made a whole, a jewel-toned mosaic, a holy blossom unfolded.
I am crowned! I am worthy and needed, I was meant to be here breathing. Knowing and needing, waiting, seething, leaping! Loving and grieving!
And worked through
I am the conduit, but I choose! I choose who I offer my hands and mouth to, who I push aside molecules for and have to cough back out again.
Undoubtedly I am priestess and keeper of the Celestial Storehouse,
I flip through the Akashic Records at the (any) time of my choosing. It will become (it is) soothing.
I’m no fool! But I’m always delving deeper
Leaping on faith, asking existence to be my teacher and my heart to be my leader.
Until the day I meet the Reaper, until the day I meet the Reaper!
Until the day I no longer breathe here, I will still be here
In the wind and the trees.
I am, as ever, in a period of transition…of release and forward motion, inhale, exhale.
There are so many things preparing to spring forth from me! I feel like a volcano and a magnetic field.
Right now, at work, I’m too tired to get much else out. There are days-on-end writing phases preparing themselves. There are (more) deep meditations to be experienced and shared. Vision boards to be created, lists to write, spells to craft, Spirits to honor.
I have no desire for company save for 7 or so people, and 4-5 of them in small doses only. I feel the pull of the raven haired man, I feel ready to meet him…but I am not eager or impatient, naive or jaded. Just prepared.
I imagine this is a strange update for anyone following. I was in a very deep, dark place for a while. I have come out of it, like the Star that so often is my significator.
It has been many moons, my friends
Since I cared to touch brush, lens, key, or pen
And I am unsure of how to begin again!
But I am reborn, and I am returned, and I am alight with new found fire.
Tonight has been strange…peaceful and kind in its solitude, honest in the way I am shown to myself.
At the same time I’m lost. I’m swimming instead of wallowing in the sadness I harbor, wading in the depths of my life.
Kept company by thoughts of old friends, fresh memories, amends to be made with myself…I am as okay as I can be right now.
God is it dark! Is it sad! Here, with the Atlas weight of my friends’ depression…here, with the slow but efficient bone grinder of a caregiver’s work
Here, indeed, in this dark and cool room I find the peace of a starlit night away from the city. Here, amongst the steady snoring of the sick and forgetful I find peace.
I will not live in this place of suffering, in this bleak ocean of repetitive death through little means. I will move up, into the soft rays of light.
I will love the darkness like an old friend, but I will not pay it rent.