Queen of Swords

Her history is scarred
like her reflection.
She teaches that
steel and makeup
can both cut a man’s soul
when properly applied.

Her voice is viscous
like blood and power.
She preaches that
covenants broken
can sever a lineage
even if the blood remains.

Her grip is unyielding
like a lock without a key.
She seizes those
already stolen assets which
can further her goals
and ends her enemies like sentences.

It’s My Car But I’m Its Driver

I used to be a High Snob™ about gems, crystals, stones, and goods made from them. A man-made opal was for the pretties but if you wanted True Opal Power™, then it had to be a nature-made opal that was likely mined using questionable labor practices at best.

It was all about honoring the natural spirit of that stone, or so I was taught when I first started exploring the worlds of occultism, paganism, and magic. Only Mother Earth could create good things. Mankind (with a particular emphasis on “man“) could only corrupt the good things created by Mother Earth. Therefore it was better to chase that One Perfect Stone than use any constructed simulacrum.

Three things happened that would eventually cause me to examine my relationship with the objects I cared for and/or owned: An old opal pendant became active, my car was replaced, and I bought new earrings.

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A New Directive

The card stated that it was good for one free sample, but it was very vague about what substance would be sampled. Judging from the overwhelming use of the color green on the advertisement, I had a good idea of what the makeup of the sample would be, but no idea what form the sample would take.

I walked into the shop with the card in hand. Instead of a bell, analog or digital, a bright flash surprised me as my picture was taken. Behind the counter, a large screen showed my ingenue expression as a second screen beside it declared that I was permitted to exchange money for goods at this fine establishment.

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A Favourite Food – Roast Beef Sandwich

A roast beef sandwich preparation was shared with me, and my dear readers, I have got to put this together. It makes me hungry just looking at it.

Also: for a Roast Beef Sandwich, I lightly grill the bread, add a mayo/balsamic vinegar/garlic/black pepper dressing whose ingredients vary by mood beyond that, very thinly sliced beet, arugula, and purple lettuce on both sides of the sandwich, hummus on only one side of the sandwich, shaved roast beef in the middle (warm in the winter, cold in the summer), cut into triangles and eaten with more of the dressing on the side for dipping.

Yup. Hungry now.

Dream Journal: 2019-05-19.01

“Hello, Weaver.”

I had not heard them approach from the night’s darkness. It was only after they spoke that I heard the sounds of their movements. As I turned to face them, I reached into my satchel out of instinct to grab something, anything, that I might be able to use to defend myself from the type of spirit that was now just two bodies’ length away from me.

As if I could defend myself from a djinn.

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Taking Coordinates

“I don’t know how to start writing about this, Oba, Iyoba. I have been silent for so long, do I even know how to make words flow again. Would that I had your determination to follow through, Oba. Would that I had your resolve to make things happen, Iyoba. I guess I have to start somewhere, so I guess I’ll just start.”

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Dream Journal: 2019-05-12.01

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” The question pulled my attention to the attendant placing themselves in my field of view. I should be concerned that the attendant wore a white featureless mask over their face. I should be more concerned when I realized that wasn’t a mask at all, but that their bone ceramic face had no features. I would have been at least, if I was awake.

Instead, I was thankful for their intrusion as I gained lucidity. I don’t know where my thoughts were headed before they discreetly touched my hand, but now my thoughts were reunited with my awareness and I felt safe and comfortable.

“Ah, no, thank you.” Their hooded robe gleamed brilliantly in crimson red as I took their hand. The more attention I gave the attendant, the more the attendant stood out from the shadows. I clasped their hand in gratitude for the assistance even though I knew the attendant had not done anything special or unique from their duties. “But you can catch me up to what’s happening now. I think I missed an instruction.”

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This Is Not An Update

I’m not supposed to be blogging. I’m supposed to be finishing up a thing that according to the clock will only take me a few hours at most if I be meticulous about it but has taken me literally one week to acknowledge and one more week to determine what exactly has to be done.

I have a lot of words for you, dear Reader, but I am at a loss of how to present them and which ones to give to you. I’m not exactly oathbound to remain silent, but at the same time, things have changed so that what I do speak of does not affect only myself if you were to take my words in bad faith.

So a quick recap of where I am and what I’m doing, then. A list of generalities as a formality.

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No Favour To Return

This is probably not helpful, because I’m much younger than you and not part of any community to speak of but: I have been quietly following you since I made a tumblr to follow people with because I was in a cult in my teens and something no one ever talks about is the ANGER and the HURT and the way that it just KEEPS GOING even as I keep going– the way that it so overtly breaks you and so subtly continues to break even years later– but you. You talk about it. And that– that is a light for me. Not because of ‘it gets better’ or anything hopefully trite like that, but because it /doesn’t/, you just live with it better and worse and your writing sets it out so plain– trauma is trauma, and even in the older pagan/polytheist circles I’ve found, no one likes to just face up to the scars. You do, though, and write it so well– I don’t know. It helps, and I can’t say that I can return the favour at all– but it helps. So. Thank you. I am sorry you hurt so much.

That was a message sent to my Tumblr blog quite some time ago. I never answered it publicly there because I didn’t want to expose the sender to undue harassment.

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Do Magick December ’18: Talismans Masterpost

The work completed in August paid off and I’m still here. As the year ended with more pots to cook than I have stove burners available some obligations would have to be fulfilled as sparingly as possible. I had wanted to get back into the DoMagick game, but didn’t want to stir up more trouble.

The December 2018 challenge is about as straightforward as it gets: Talismans.

I decided to buck my normal tendency to overcomplicate matters and make the most basic type of modern talisman using two things found in any grocery store: Paper and glue. What follows is the masterpost of entries for the December 2018 DoMagick Challenge.

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