I’ve skirted around the issue on Twitter and here on my blog many times. Have placed so much between the lines, there are acres between the furrows. On a few occasions, I’ve actually come right out and said things plainly, but apparently, not plainly enough.
For my regular readers, I apologize for stating the blatantly obvious.
I am beholden to Loki. I guess, that makes me a “Lokean”. The how’s and why’s of this doesn’t matter. Point blank, I’m his servant until he decides I’m not. (As an aside, be careful, boys and girls, what you promise a debt to, and the terms of that debt.)
I’ve been under his thumb for over a year, that that’s after another year of actively dodging his red-haired ass before finally being cornered. Some of you readers have asked me, “What good could come of having dealings with that evil bastard?”
What good, indeed. These are a direct result of having to deal with Blood-Boiler:
- I’ve learned how to stand up for myself, even in the face of overwhelming bullying.
- I’ve discovered I’m good with my hands, and can craft what I need to craft.
- I’ve learned how to deal with traumatic events in my past, and blood-curdling events that are still ongoing.
- I discovered the runes, and found I really was capable of magic.
- I’ve become more of an strong independent person, and less of a whiny little bitch.
Note that last bullet. Having Loki’s hand on my neck has strengthened me, as it took a Loki to haul my ass out of the Pity Party I was living in. No one can save me, but me. And I’m starting to do a damn good job of it.
Nowhere in that list is what the public at large thinks Lokeans are. No where in my todo list is:
- Talking shit to you just to make you cry.
- Breaking your things because I can.
- Spreading horrid rumors and gossip just to watch the aftermath.
- Invoking dark and evil things for the hell of it.
- Generally being an Archduke of Douchy Dickishness.
- Railing against the world because beauty still exists.
Those dipshits that brag of being a follower of Loki, that sow chaos everywhere and delights in the madness of drug-fueled rages (including alcohol), aren’t Lokean. They are assholes in need of corrective measures. I’ll help. “Loki made/told me to do it” is the pagan version of “The Devil made/told me to do it.” It’s a copout either way, and an empty excuse.
I’m not asking for acceptance. (Much.) I’m just explaining myself. And trying to diffuse some rage. Because two people, that I care for very much, if they ever knew how deeply Loki is in my life, would not only shun me for the association, but would actually take up magical and physical acts to destroy the bond between me and Loki. And that fucking hurts that I can’t be accepted for what I am, only for the mask they have mistaken for me.
I’ll admit this, however. I have taken a hard look at how I treat adherents of my former Christian faith. I was castigating them for the same thing, following a god I disagree with. Accepting them for who they are, in total, has helped heal some of my own wounds. Funny how that works out.
Make of that, what you may.