Ugh
Moon magic really made me emotional today.
Did a ritual charging wine with moon energy. Focused on bringing creative energy from the subconcious, the great deep, into being.
Very, very powerful visions of the archangel and my light and dark forms. It's... so emotional that attempting to put it into words is very difficult.
Brought alot of things to the surface that I'm still not sure I'm ready to deal with, but there's nothing like having it shoved in your face.
Ended up... okay, I know it's silly, but I -rapped- part of the way home. Channeled the inner metaphysical beatbox, if you will.
There's a house on a hill
in a valley
where the sun's almost shining
and the rain is almost falling
and the fog is almost forming
and she always has him in her sight
and he's never gone
and he makes creatures
carves them from wood
forms them with is hands
when he places them in hers
when they hold them together
they come to life
fly, skitter, and flow away, into the world
and they're never apart,
truely
the tea is perfect
hot, cold, good, bad
these things do not exist
every pour, the pot is simply perfect
and she reads a book
where a man struggles against demons
fighting, destroying, crying, bleeding
and when she thinks
I wish I could live in that world
she looks up
sees him, carving
and smiles
and sips her tea
and paints and reads, never quite losing sight of him
always right there, in the corner of her eye
where he's most clear
for thousands of years it goes on like this
this perfect little world
this little house on the hill
where it's almost in the forrest
and it's almost raining
and it's almost summer
and it's almost foggy
this perfect little world.
Just a smattering of what I remember saying. So much more... prose born from so many emotions. From the chaotic waters of pure creation.
It was an amazing walk. I'm not even tired. But I know I should sleep. I think. Days like this... really have me question sleep.
Did a ritual charging wine with moon energy. Focused on bringing creative energy from the subconcious, the great deep, into being.
Very, very powerful visions of the archangel and my light and dark forms. It's... so emotional that attempting to put it into words is very difficult.
Brought alot of things to the surface that I'm still not sure I'm ready to deal with, but there's nothing like having it shoved in your face.
Ended up... okay, I know it's silly, but I -rapped- part of the way home. Channeled the inner metaphysical beatbox, if you will.
There's a house on a hill
in a valley
where the sun's almost shining
and the rain is almost falling
and the fog is almost forming
and she always has him in her sight
and he's never gone
and he makes creatures
carves them from wood
forms them with is hands
when he places them in hers
when they hold them together
they come to life
fly, skitter, and flow away, into the world
and they're never apart,
truely
the tea is perfect
hot, cold, good, bad
these things do not exist
every pour, the pot is simply perfect
and she reads a book
where a man struggles against demons
fighting, destroying, crying, bleeding
and when she thinks
I wish I could live in that world
she looks up
sees him, carving
and smiles
and sips her tea
and paints and reads, never quite losing sight of him
always right there, in the corner of her eye
where he's most clear
for thousands of years it goes on like this
this perfect little world
this little house on the hill
where it's almost in the forrest
and it's almost raining
and it's almost summer
and it's almost foggy
this perfect little world.
Just a smattering of what I remember saying. So much more... prose born from so many emotions. From the chaotic waters of pure creation.
It was an amazing walk. I'm not even tired. But I know I should sleep. I think. Days like this... really have me question sleep.