CN: Thoughts of suicide and a different angle on (non performed) self harm. If you experience the urges for the latter you may wish to read this anyway. What Sylvanna came to understand is vindicating. And it just might help.
For this it’s worth knowing. Sylvanna’s heroic therapist convinced her to put the crisis line on her phone, and stick it in her list of favorites. She did call them at one point, and she wasn’t carted off. No ambulance or police came to her door. She was talked through a rough patch and turned around.
She can not recommend enough that you do the same, sane or not. Maybe one day it won’t be for you. It is a safety net we fear, but if you drop into it he can do more than help you survive. he can turn around your perspective in a very good way. These are professionals.
On to the point of this essay. We get back to mentioning them.
Sylvanna’s joints may have always become an issue one day. The Fibromyalgia that made it worse was possible but brought on by the acute stress. The difficult PTSD was hard to avoid. Unfortunately the repercussions do not stop there. Anger or PTSD caused hours – sometimes days/weeks/months of torture, we understand. What if, on rare chance, something triggers rage?
It first caused her to bolt.
Then, tears streamed down her face, her heart would beg for suicide. She could not stand the feeling her mind and body screaming for the emotional pain to stop with her life so she could never feel such psychological agony again.
Anything but this.
No. Let it never come to this again. Let us be done.
The first time she called the crisis line, she tried without the second. The yearn for death would pass. But next came a symptom that contained a revelation she was not expecting. The urge for self harm, but slowed down and controlled.
When she would hurt herself in the past she would claw her own arms – a knife having cut too deeply before. When the urge was not present she never understood how she could get past the pain.
Then, she learnt there is a physical aspect
As the desire for death passed, her left arm began to crawl for wounds like the body preparing itself for touch but without that form of pleasure. Soon after her other hand with razor sharp nails would eagerly join the urge and be and ready. Her psyche wanted the same (but different) strength of sensuality.
To be clear, self harm was not sexual. Sylvanna has the experience to assure you It’s not remotely the same.
Dark arousal of the urge to slice, rip or claw is unique. And horrific. The pain you want to inflict, the blood you want to see, so dangerous and powerful it is akin to passion but no where near close to pleasure. Satisfaction? Yes. But fleeting.
It is just hard to resist because your flesh is calling for it.
Pain, at that point, has its own form of lust.
Sylvanna managed to calm, letting it pass with determination she pulled from the depths of her soul. Sheer will er ex would not entirely destroy her. But she did not forget the very nerves of your body react differently when the psyche is screaming for blood.
Maybe don’t judge yourself or others for self inflicted harm. You need to be unmovable to resist the magnetic pull. And humans are creatures of motion.
The second time holding back the urge to bleed failed. She doesn’t even remember the trigger, just that part one was in some ways easier to avoid than part two.
The third was a snafu with medication that drove her over the edge. She called the crisis line for that one. She knew she could resist the urge to die, but not the body’s yearning for razor sharp nails.
The angel on the other end of the phone got her through, and a friend was available for the deconstruction of unexpected intensity.
It took unusual will and self-preservation to get to the point she could find a way to hold out till it passed. It’s possible. But you need to know what you’re up against first.
Your very own body.
So far this fluff ball and her feet save my life. Just look at those cute toes!
There are a lot of misunderstandings about what reactive abuse is, how it works, and how it can be recognized. Thus as we begin a story with an undercurrent of such filth I need to make it clear what exactly is going on when those interacting waves get shoved into action.
We don’t have full numbers when it comes to this complicated and rather sophisticated form of abuse, because quite a lot of men hear so many justifications and lies from their partners they are fooled. And men are the most frequent victim of this type[2]. Indeed it’s possible the type of feminism that men also need will gain a boon that Sylvanna has now also experienced this, and can reach a branch out to men silenced by the fear they will not be believed.
At least now you convinced me to help you analyze it to pieces.
Someone has to and that’s you. I don’t have other dedicated druids I could persuade to let me prod at them on a single traumatic topic for five years.
I wonder why…
To truly focus on the crux so I’ve chosen the favorite slippery wording of an abuser – whether a more standard kind, or a tormentor who just won’t stop. Everyone expects the victim of reactive abuse to be the one to use such a phrase. But that’s plain not the psychology behind pushed buttons. So lets first thoroughly examine the word “only.”
Sylvanna heard Peachy (Toad’s mother) say it to Gentle Strength (Toad’s father) a nauseating amount of times. Add the secret whispers of friends? There’s a great gaping hole in our knowledge base. Frankly because it’s often so well combined with gaslighting there are many who really do feel it their fault. If you’re one of them? Please look deeply.
How familiar does this look?
“I only did (This horrendous and unfair thing) because you_________.”
This bottom dwelling argument is the same kind as “I only raped her because she was wearing revealing clothes”.
So, Peachy in particular, if you are one of the individuals who uses this reasoning, I hope you feel a dark inky slithering down your spine. You really don’t want to share the same argument as… oh wait. What you lot already do is an assault so I suppose it’s not far off.
“I only abused you because you made it so easy.”
This is victim blaming, gaslighting, and formulaic further abuse all in one container. And context changes everything.
The English language is tricky, and a single word alters the meaning dramatically.
Far too honest I know, but a fair example. The sentence is a personal accusation focused on the victim. The abuser was “only” like that because the victim… did what? Deserve it? How would that change minus that simple piece of the sentence?
“I hurt you because you were so vulnerable.”
The truth laid bare is painful, isn’t it? It sounds much worse. Abusers don’t explain away their behavior the second way. Individuals don’t word their reactions so honestly unless they are accepting some weight.
Let’s see another, more well known version.
“I only hit you because you didn’t listen.”
No one trying to blame the victim skips out on the “Only” part. The abuser knows they are wrong, and is hiding it.
“I hit you because you didn’t listen.”
Do you see the key difference now? Do you think it appropriate to punch someone just because they didn’t do as insisted? Or did something that the abuser didn’t approve of? Is it okay to ever hit someone for anything other than defense? It it okay to lash out verbally instead? How long do bruises last verses barbs?
Be careful of your words, you can’t always take them back.
The danger for victims of violence is life threatening injuries or death. It’s harder and scarier to escape. Certainly it has lifelong lingering effects, frequently physical. – no one is arguing it is lessor. But words are just as dangerous.
I only behaved this way sbecause I wanted to control you.
At first glance the contentious phrasing seems to cause a paradox. How does one describe their own actions if their behavior is triggered? Did they only yell because they were pushed into it? No they didn’t “only” do anything. No victim of reactive abuse has such a simple explanation for what they experience.
What tends to be working at the core of victim is pain that prodded at very naturally turns to anger – for good reason. But it is anger they control. While many raise their voice or can not hide frustration, it doesn’t usually cause damage. And if it does, it’s not dangerous to the emotional assailant.
Reactive abuse can lead to a more explosive result on an inanimate object if the victim is so deeply harassed the hellfire within explodes. But the abuser always walks away feeling satisfied and scot free – particularly if they’ve been able to cry a few crocodile tears into getting sympathy with slickly turned tables.
Let’s be frank about this, anger is a natural human response to being attacked. It’s a defensive mechanism and frequently one all the “best” victims have difficulty with. They’ve usually been through trauma and have specific sore spots abusers work to learn.
The victim tends to do their best to wrap decency around them as tightly as possible while they are bleeding inside. And it is the very important underlying structure of reactive abuse. They’re in pain, and like a wounded animal with a thorn deep in their paw, shoving the damn thing deeper is going to result in a snarl. There are other more mature ways to interact with those suffering emotionally. But that goes counter to, again, control.
The mental twist is built by torturing and tormenting the victim into a negative response, then pointing the finger at that result as a sign they are sick, need help, are crazy, are the abusive one, dangerous, scary, terrifying, and most of all at fault.
Remember, baiting is abusive. Needling, wheedling, barbs and boundary crossing are worse. No matter how much a victim dodges a reaction, sways out of the line of lashes from an uncontrolled tongue, abusers plain do not stop. And there you have the core of the difference between reactive abuse and a more standard kind of emotional violence that is more recognizable.
“You were a mistake!”
Add a physical attack pressed onto the victim? And it’s a toxic brew to the one shouldering the undeserved blame. Particularly if it’s weaker on stronger when it comes to muscles – or combat skills. The skinny dexterous martial artist may know a thousand ways to end a fight – but not when being struck by their partner. Even just restraining wrists can be twisted around.
Good Lugh, combine them? Short, but greatly muscular, Sylvanna with speed and instincts that never faded with time? Just consider every veteran out there living with pain, PTSD and training. Requirements for responsibility seared into them. The perfect invisible victim.
Own your shit.
Usually the more control a victim has over themselves, the more it is likely that strength will become a weapon in the words of the abuser. So no matter your skills, weaker on stronger trumps everything if you’re too honorable to fight back – or know the consequences when the police are called.
There’s a special place in hell for individuals who so twist the goodness of others – should a god fling one there.
Are you supposed to… which part?
Under the puss.
Okay. That’s fair.
So what do the abused say?
They don’t.
They should. But this is not a well understood phenomenon and most feel entirely alone in the situation. Sometimes repeated relationship to relationship because groomed patterns form.
When Sylvanna hit rage, it wasn’t only because of Toad’s relentless microaggressions, disregard for her boundaries, and sheer spite. Certainly those were triggers. But she hit rage because she contains a deep pit of pain within her soul, and is bipolar.
For her, after a certain point anger and sanity just aren’t connected anymore.
Keep that in mind.
Even reality can be snapped apart – but not “only” because of relentless prodding. And not “only” because she has a mental illness. But because combined they can be lethal.
[1]Thor’s Hammer. You may have heard of it. But remember the name. It’s going to show up again. A lot. Usually in Sylvanna’s hands – or her argument at least.
[2]As a note from Sylvanna. Women experience this too – but not as much. And since first taking note, I’ve observed it is almost invisible when directed at men – at least to others of all genders.
Okay Caveat as some know I am going back to my pursuit of the Orthodox Christian church. But (Sorry Wicca but fuck off) Witchcraft is not a religion. The other gods exist and are chatty. But I only worship Allah. Thus this explanation I had sitting around still works.
One of the things I found most frustrating starting out in the occult section of the used bookstore was that they said “set this up” but no one ever fucking just explained why. What each component was. What you could do with it and how to combine them. I also didn’t have $300 to drop on supplies. And don’t really now but had extra help with other expenses because I was so impractical. If you can shop around and hunt what you want preloved items are definitely good but if you’re new? Dangerous if you don’t have an eye for healthy energy. As for what the pieces mean, Iris was with me so I can tell you the point down to…
An altar cloth
This creates an environment for magic to rest in. Like a cup with water. You need a place to focus and pull together all that energy so yes indeedy the cloth is important. Choose a color/pattern/fabric you find satisfying and pulls your particular energy together. Mine is blue either velvet or satin whichever is easiest to get my hands on as I’ve had to rebuild several times.
Candles
Led will do in a pinch
Candle holders are optional
Candle holders add a nice aesthetic that can help concentrate energy by pleasing the eye. You can be creative with these and while candles with flames are preferable it’s also an option to have LED ones if that’s not feasible.
The purpose of fire or fire visuals is probably easy to guess – or at least instinctual. It’s cleansing and a potent way to focus our energy. But some rental agreements say no and cost is a factor for most. Barring the life affirming flame an LED candle will set the mood and help you direct your will but isn’t quite as spiritually potent to the other side of the veil.
“Offerings”
These are:
Metal chalice for wine
Crystal glass for water
Wooden bowl for oil
Small dish for salt (salt cellar)
Optional 2,4,6 more spice cellars
One: these liquids get gross, only use a little and change either daily or weekly at least. Two: these are the fundamental riches of life. These are what makes the sacred form life in your altar like blood running through it.
Why those materials? Frankly history and pure association. Crystal clear is how we describe healthy water, a metal chalice signifies strength and offered wealth, and the wood is the best vessel for oil as we may end up dipping our fingers in it. And the natural shaped quality of the wooden bowl is like the cradle of magic that is prevalent in olive oil. A sacred aspect to many traditions therefore has gathered spiritual weight.
It’s important to note somewhere, and here is as good as anywhere else, that magic that flows with or absorbs the meaning or implications of the past, or the use of others, has more potency As it draws upon the faith of everyone who uses it when you call in the universe. So use a metal chalice for wine, crystal glass for water, and a wooden bowl for oil. Okay?
The optional spice combination should also be placed in spice cellars and have personal meaning to you. The passionate, earthy quality of my personal spice combination sits out full time, as does the salt. If you can’t think of anything there are multiple forms of salt you can set out. Ground, crystallized, and Himalayan make a potent combination if you are seeking to purify elements to your life. They can also represent wealth. Peppercorns also work for those who want to work with passion. But don’t get greedy with however cellars you set out. 3,5,7 are the numbers to go for and one of them will always be salt.
You can, with some combinations cheat a little, two forms of pepper in one bowl and a two complimentary spice combination in another. As well as using two forms of salt in the cellar reserved for that spice. But again, working within the limitations of magic you can only do up to three per and you absolutely do need to mix three kinds of salt if you are mixing three in the other dishes. And no mixing three in one, unless it’s three in all of them or one and one in another to reach 5.
Why? Magical wholeness makes a difference when preparing or setting an alter. There are numbers we have to contend with. 3, 6, 9, or 5, 10, 15, or 7, 14, 21. Are the three sets of numbers that are used most frequently in magic and thus have the weight of thousands of individuals going back thousands of years. Don’t fight history in magic. Flow with it. My father could probably tell use why those numbers in particular appeal to us. But as they do. And they work. Stick to them. But when in doubt 1 salt cellar is always an option.
For me, starting out, spices I didn’t regularly use were an expense I wasn’t willing to justify. So Salt? Was Soy sauce. It did the trick. My other two matching cellars went empty waiting for the right spell. That’s an option too.
When it comes to choosing spices outside of the required salt it gets very personal. Intent matters, as does a signature. My magical signature is the spices I choose. Others may research their magical properties and change out the “offerings” as intent changes.
That’s the part that tends to confuse new pagans. These are indeed offerings to the other world – in my case anyone that’s listening. You can choose to create a magical signature or you can try to get more specific intention. But the central concept is the respect for the weight of spiritual history, and the spiritual world. They are what flows life and meaning into all that you do in front of your altar – or away if you’re a set it and forget it kind of individual.
Athame (ritual dagger)
No. No. No. Do not use it to draw blood. While blood can make a powerful contribution to a letter or burning, if you don’t menstruate fucking prick your finger with a pin if you’re going to blast the other realm with potent magic. It’s not like you need much.
So what is the point of an Athame beyond stirring cauldrons and poking at ashes? Times past it absolutely would be used to draw blood. But thanks to the weight of the world we don’t actually need to draw blood to symbolize blood, and that’s essentially what it does. Do not skip out on this important aspect of the altar. This should be something only you touch once you have acclimated it to you. It represents your blood. Just don’t actually get yours on it.
Small metal bell.
You will ring this. You have several options as to when. In cleansing rituals the bell banishes negative energy. In healing rituals it’s used in between stanzas as a call to set it out into the world. You may also find some call a spirit to you. Be friendly and see what it wants. It will likely want to help you in exchange for offering it thanks – gratitude is an energetic food they find quite tasty.
One compact/handheld mirror
Are you going to gaze into this? Absolutely but it’s the most powerful focus we have is to look into our own eyes and see what visions we gain – in our own head. (And about the present— knowledge of the future is the path to madness) If you see something in the mirror other than you it’s time to worry. But mirrors are all doorways to other realms and are part of a passageway system.
You only want to look into our own, ask your question, hopefully get an answer -inside your head- and close the damn thing up, put it face down. Close the damn pathway. Walk the fuck away. As such only come to a mirror with a fucking question and it better not be whose fairest of them all.
One or two items of specialization
So for me a thimble and geode.
This is again a spiritual signature. Personally if my cat would let me sew I would use the thimble as intended. But I also use it to measure spices in potions so have fun deciphering those!
The geode is a Druid thing to recognize my magical roots I sort of meandered away from. It’s grounding and beautiful and calls the spiritual world to observe without necessarily interfering. Yes we do want that. Magic witnessed by the invisible is likely to be more potent and those I call to witness my work are of the earth.
One statue/icon/standing cross
Focus, focus, focus. Where does your magic come from? Concentrate? Who do you call upon when stuck? Bran may be who I utter for in small needs but Abba (the Christian god) is who I really bug if my needs are extreme. Hence my Celtic cross. Are Christianity and witchcraft supposed to mix? Are you fucking kidding? If the church can take our Yule trees we can take their cross.
If you are not directly under a fire alarm: Sage and bowl to place it in And Incense and pleasing holder provided you’re not allergic to it.
Sage is good for cleansing spaces as it is famous for. A good start to any ritual. But impossible to use with a fire alarm three feet away so the bell will have to do to set the space if that’s not possible.
Incense – oh the lovely world of signature fragrances and the magical properties of each. If only I could partake. But alas I’m allergic to artificial fragrance and live with a close by fire alarm if I could afford the natural kind.
For casting/prayer you will also likely need
Foci
Ritual clothing/jewelry of some sort
Burning paper
Lighter
The foci is probably an obvious concept, the burning paper needs a lighter. Write your request into the universe, set it on a cast iron dish/cauldron and ignite! Not only is it satisfying and oddly feels like an accomplishment. As long as you have read it aloud it travels with the light and smoke. For some flash paper equivalents it’s mostly light. But what you really want is for it to travel hence the point of that.
As an aside, familiars are not demons!
Ritual clothing, like a scarf, will help you get more into the headspace of casting and prayer and will aide your focus and energetic output as a result.
Sure nice right? Expensive to set up but deeply pleasing when you do. What if you are hard up or have no room
One amber jar with oil, water, wine, salt mixed in.
One dish for. “Finds”
One cheap compact mirror.
This is the equivalent of doing magic with a number two pencil. You should only fill the jar once and seal it. Set it somewhere with a dish for little tiny things you find like pleasing stones or even broken jewelry. And use the mirror as described above. The bare minimum for enhancing magical will and prayer.
Some of the best tools are preloved or so brand new they don’t already have their own energy. If you’re just starting out use new or gifted items that have familial significance – like your great grandmothers incense holder or some such. If taking on an object with history, you need to either convert the energy to your own or be related to that history.
Once you’ve gained some power over your energetic signature you can take on tools that already have energy to them. Choose wisely and only pick up what resonates with you. If you are practiced or sensitive enough you can do this through Etsy as much as garage sales. But you first need to be able to recognize what you will find harmony with. I love items with history to them but I wouldn’t want an assholes energy combatting mine when I dedicate it.
The simplest way to acclimate a tool to you is to use it. Anoint your third eye with the oil, sip from the wine, taste the salt, sip from the water. Utter a prayer as the object comes to focus for the first time. Or if you have waited for everything to get settled into place focus on the whole alter. But anoint your third eye etc. And in that order. Why? Iris said so. Oh fine. With the oil on your forehead you enter a space between worlds and you taste in the order that makes sense to picking up flavor and quality. With each bit you enter deeper and deeper into the sacred. The mystery to Greek Orthodox. It’s a logical order of events that does not foul the senses.
Do not skimp on the details. Use good olive oil you would put on a salad, bottled spring water, wine you would actually drink (non alcoholic is an option), and good fucking salt.
The prayer to “lock” an entire altar to your use differs a little from person to person – and is necessary before embarking on any other witchcraft. But you can pop the altar together without using it but leaving it unlocked can cause wild energy to build that is good for chaos magic and nothing else. Which of course is what I did because I was willing to harness the fucking thing when ready to actually use it and the energy was pleasing.
To bless an item the best thing to do is use it with good intentions. But before then comes the locking of an alter in progress.
To begin with all you need is an alter cloth and one item that you are going to use. Then you unlock the energy and lock. New (or used) items in. Remember going the used route can be very satisfying. There’s joy to be had in vintage or antique collection. But unless you are practiced enough do not put them on your alter right away if you want to use it for anything.
One way is certainly for it to sit there together long enough but it’s not ideal. This is indeed what I did. But you shouldn’t
Instead focus your mind on your energy and let it pour into the alter in as much as it seems to hold. If you are practiced in energy work you will find out how much it can contain at any one time. If you are not it may be more difficult but not impossible. But please gods start with all new equipment if you are still trying to sense energy inside you.
Then utter the following prayer, swapping out my name for yours – either a real name or the name you will use in the magical world. And again thanking your gods, this time in the second row.
I seal this space as a work of [Your spiritual name]
Thank you to [Your gods]
May you find home among the tools And no one else but Allah.
Anything you want to add to this journal is after a nap.
Yes I know it sound sexual, and with my suggestion that could prove interesting . But pretty frightening to the eyes!
Here’s the idea. Animations has/is getting to the point getting maths to move it is getting easier – albeit done by a computer. Get the dimensions or whatever wrong, and whoops, please retake Calculus.
Why on earth can’t we teach most of calculus by getting a computer to show what works and what doesn’t? Maybe more, I’d have to really think about how to visually represent more than geometry but now I’m interested. Which means I should actually read my Dads (as in he wrote them) Book.
The point I really have is that we don’t need a whole game to screw around with maths. How fun would it be to experiment? No plot, no quest, certainly no NPC just a runner.
I imagine a few good potential 3d modelers would emerge and they go further. But it shouldn’t fucking be made to be a requirement. I never even read most of my papers after turning them in so why can’t we just have snippets of motion that we may still never use but would be better for understanding it at all – maybe craft some future Cybersecurity engineers.
I imagine (Again) that it would be interesting to make the computer choke on crafting a shape but potentially hilarious as long as coded to handle a feedback of, “Huh? The symbol seems to be in the wrong order.”
How cool would that be?
Sorry, wasn’t wearing clothes under the blanket but still got bored enough to take a selfie.
Jesus is quoted as saying “Money is the root of all evil”. But what does that actually mean? Evil requires aide to work and the very real need for food can drag good men into evil acts.
Money is a tool of communication. But boy does it communicate. I care, here land in this social net because we care. It’s empty without the emotion traveling through it but most conflicts are about physical or spiritual resources. Undesirable land is squabbled over less. But they have other problems. Like the need for aide dependent on the whims of politicians. Money again.
It also communicates selfishness, giving, the need to horde, and frankly some good and bad taste! The excess of money may be connected to a lack of spirituality and without someone to love the meaning of money is lost. Here’s an option. Love everyone regardless of how irritating they are. You can afford it.
You don’t learn the value of a dollar by having a $100 bill. You learn it by striving for $1.00. That’s two ramen instant noodles by the way. If you don’t understand how much you really have multiply by 0.5. It’s that many packages of ramen.
As a tool money can indeed be the root of evil. All of it? No there’s a force out there that laughs each time we hurt each other. This negative, overpowering, volcanic and sentient energy that isn’t too happy with where he is and wants to drag everyone closer as a result.
Money can be the tool to help others, to organize aide, education, trade. It pays bills. Look at my ramen example. Do you want to figure out how many of those to trade for my car? No we need money.
We need to avoid hoarding it. We need basic universal income and taxing the wealthy will do that. But it’s a side issue I’m hoping makes it way forward. Maybe after we all earn the right to sleep.
Here’s the thing though. Money is the root of civilization as we know it everywhere it’s printed and pressed. It facilitates the supply and demand that pulls us all closer. While Capitalism runs out of necessary goods, and invents needs to supply. And it’s getting ridiculous.
But once evil infects one enough with the resources to purchase evil acts and acts of wrong that can lead to evil. Remember evil is in murder and rape, not lies and abuse but the latter two will take their toll on you and your soul. It invites evil thoughts and evil acts.
Enough paid gaslighters over a prolonged period lead to hospital visits. But most haven’t really wanted to connect that making the suicidal more suicidal ends in death and manslaughter to a group too big to chase. And not the problem as much as the money involved and the moneybags who wants me “suicidal” (Dead.)
Evil wins that war, and those that facilitated it also may never recover. I’m just not really interested in living. I’ve been wanting to end it all early since June 2023 when I warned my psychiatrist, and he agreed to limit the medication involved. I really thought I wouldn’t make it past July 23rd. Considering I was tortured with paralyzing brain melting audio on July 3rd, I seemed to have fair instincts. I couldn’t hear the world around me for a month after that. I don’t know why my hearing came back. I should be deaf.
Yes. It’s true. After being paralyzed by exhaustion and sound I managed to summon emergency services with a one shot call. I collapsed. I thought I would Die. I was a gibberish mess and got supremely pissed when some bitch told chattering me to calm down.
Calm down? This is calm. Fuck you.
Then someone I swore came in on a day off entered. He was calming and sweet and I always mellowed the instant he was around. It must have been so satisfying to watch the mountain lion turn into a kitten in front of everyone.
But they shoved me in the corner and the audio my brain was trying to sort had become voices. Addled, exhausted, and ignored I went to the desk to leave. No more taxi vouchers for me. A deputy would do.
But twenty minutes was too long and I walked home at midnight Between July 3rd and 4th. I walked at a steady pace of 5 miles an hour over 9 hours and some odd minutes. I made it back to my cat
I owned the road that night. If Boudicca wasn’t enough I would have to walk like a goddess because I was tailed the whole way but someone who stayed out of sight because the strange whirring was probably a drone. I didn’t think to look up when I would stop, dead center of the moonlight road and look back with body language full of determination and control that says “bring it”.
I made it home just fine. But it began a war of sound I fled the state to escape and it followed. Advancing, growing, dragging in more and more with raids of gaslighters.
One of those was the one who said “No one can survive all that” And I decided he was right. As mentioned before. Is he evil? As full of regret and worry as he became? I really wouldn’t beside surprised he also convinced emergency services to come back now I was dying.
While some could certainly transfer their skills to social media, most didn’t know the numbers involved, the sheer length of time. Or that I’d been so ready for death I didn’t mention it anymore.
My cat was the reason I survived and she was in her carrier that night. I live in terror that the deep pocketed moneybags will indeed steal my cat. I think I’d OD on the spot. But besides a really impressive attempt at dying, she still didn’t believe what she was doing was manslaughter and racketeering.
I mean, “come on!” For fucks sake etc.
She is infected by evil and using it as a tool to drag as many into harassing me as possible. My staff I made when I was 16 carved into, a piece removed. My necessary but infected computer stolen. Even being slipped a “who knows what” pill.. Threats invasions and all I could do was change the locks.
You can bet favors for fivers are involved. It’s just one thing. She must have money. Look at all this vintage stuff! (Thanks because I’ve had it since it was new and apparently I’m vintage). I have instincts. I can find a sale, Anything new to me was likely not new to the world. So those things that weren’t a gift from my mother? I snagged on a deal.
Though I suspect some stuff is just valuable because it’s mine.
Cumulatively those small favors end up with a Dead Devlin. Please for gods sake when offered money to hurt someone? Worm your way out. But with addictions, lack of food, barely just being housed that’s easier to say than expect. So some want to kick me out without ever meeting me.
Money. The tool used to pressure others into potentially evil acts. Carving up my staff took malice to a stranger. Once that’s in, so is evil.
So yes, Money is a good tool for Evil. But we also need it. We have a war on our souls. Even if you have no god to place faith in, you may believe that electrical signal in you, can either live on or separate into nothing.
How do you think reincarnation works? That electrical form could easily become tied to a womb if they’re not headed to heaven or purgatory.
We need to make favors for fivers unappealing. Maybe a better spread of finances. Farms are paid not to grow because there’s a war on the economic force driving food prices, and thus the scales of accessibility up the chain. I
I’m sorry, illegal immigrants are sometimes the only ones willing to work the hours in severe circumstances for so little pay it would be criminal if they were part of the system. Paying them more and providing a porta-potty would be basic. But up those prices go, so down some of that cash needs to flow.
Don’t you dare shit on a person so desperate to stay in safety they must live in squalor with no money for things like cleaning supplies. Americans won’t do that job and their treatment is vile. Or at least was. Now it’s worse. Go pick fruit for twelve-Sixteen hours. Sleep and do it again. No? Then shut the fuck up and tip your barista.
Do you see the way money as a tool is a power that the sentient evil force enjoys twisting to his whims. But cover the poor and it turns out evil starts losing. Take your “thoughts and prayers” and shove them up your arse. Stop obstructing progress. And no one gets to heaven after being shitty. Toads for you! Have you noticed a certain economic strata? I have. Only privileged people can live in bubbles away from the poverty Americans are facing. You don’t get to heaven that way either.
Remember what Jesus said about eye of a needle? He may have exaggerated a little but that point is so old it’s between. BC and AD.
We’ve been trying to struggle out of nothing and once you’ve slept in a car you carry it with you like a smudge of dirt you can’t wipe off. You can fight and strive and get into the middle class but you’ll always be “that former homeless person”.
You tell me money is always good? Because frankly we need it. But we need better distribution or Asmodeus wins. The war is on, where do you want your soul to go?
I was asked for more selfies; It was at night. But I complied anyway.
In the summer of 2003, I was hurrying my way up the News Steps in Edinburgh to a Job interview. The steep and long stairway tended to be quiet, but it was the quickest route from where I lived to C-Venues. And I didn’t mind a bit of clambering.
Somewhere about half-way up, barely sheltered by the hint of an alcove, I was stopped by a young gentleman not far from my age. His hair was dark blond perhaps, Maybe lighter, but dirty. It fell in soft waves to his shoulders.
At least I think so. He emanated a unique yellow-gold that distracts the
memory. He asked if I had spare change and I had none. I apologized and explained I was hoping to find work that afternoon.
He wished me luck and asked that I pray for him, telling me his name. Michael.
I promised I would, and got the job – to start the next day. I went home to a cup of tea and an old handspring palmtop with fold-up keyboard. From my fingertips poured a poem about Michael’s plight, and all those weary from the elements.
I had seen too many lost souls that summer perhaps. I don’t know. When I went back to look for him, he was gone. I moved and no longer needed the stairs. Then I moved again…
I’ve thought about Michael over the years, the poem crossing my path at least once a month every month, sometimes several times a week. So in my own way I still pray for someone I knew for at most five minutes – but left his mark on me.
Writing “Game Over” was very difficult. So as I began, I placed this poem at the back to remind me. Some people can tear you down over years. But some can build you up in the time it takes to boil a kettle.
I married one, and the other is a faded memory. But only one of them will continue to fill me with a sense of love into the next decade. The day I met him is almost an anniversary before the fight to end all fights. In that way, I’ve known Michael longer.
I still hope he’s okay, and pray his life got better; he’s alive and has a comfortable place to live. And that he’s generally happy. Of all the homeless I have stopped to talk to. He shines out among them.
If you’re listening for prayers still, Michael; may you have escaped society’s edges, and survive this century’s turbulence with wealth in your pockets.
—————————————————————————-
I am apart.
It rains and I have no shelter.
So in shadows and arches I hide,
And I am never seen.
Walking past me are the lives of others,
Never knowing where they tread.
I have been witness to all in time,
But none within my reach.
Look at me and see your fear,
Humanity stripped bare.
I am the truth of all,
And I have nothing.
Share with me this body,
And you shall know my journey.
I am educated by all I see,
But none will know my name.
The need for your sweet charity,
Keeps me within your world.
Pennies you think little of,
Are my only ties.
Yet this fragile bond I hold,
Finds me seeking hope.
Like all the others passing,
I seek proof of life.
I am wet.
I am hungry.
I am cold.
And I am filled by this.
Look at me and see a brother,
For I belonged to someone.
Can you really safely say
I am none of your concern?
I am of your flesh and blood,
My fate is yours as well.
The homeless have a face,
And today that face is mine
Science has many miracles explained yet can not steal from me the wonder and wander of what advancement really means. Would I still be alive if a surgeon didn’t take a risk?
It’s time to stop surfing the wave started in the sixties and swim with the other fishes. What the hell does that mean? Women’s suffrage in America started in 1848 with a meeting of the minds.
Women gathered and protested, built ships when men went to war, then bounced back into the iconical fifties, that were only good for straight white men but are remembered fondly by people who weren’t born yet.
But then the sixties happened. Protests, books, bra burning that is used as an insult akin to flag burning. (Come on). We were afraid of being called “bra burning feminists” So tougher women wrote the books and took the heat. But at that point women were groomed to compete for men and tore the shit out of each other. TERFs probably formed out of jealousy for yet another woman to compete with – got to tear her down somehow. First wave feminism.
Second wave feminists ditched the anti transgender rhetoric and became inclusive. Still afraid of the non insulting insult of being called a bra burner, many women needed second wave feminism but women who lead the charge were still “manish”.
Now men are joining the feminism and suggesting the softness they want to have part of them isn’t softness at all but love, caring, and tenderness. #metoo should be joined by #mentoo but there is a battle that men are encroaching on women spaces and topics.
But if we want change we need all voters on board and very soon straight white old voters will be in the minority. Let’s be fair, some women don’t seem to be helping us much by clinging to exclusivity and accusing male feminism (yes that’s a thing) of just more men grabbing the spotlight.
Look that spotlight is there. You want it? You fucking take it. But women are still afraid the more power they have the more powerless men feel and won’t have them. Have these women met men? I mean yes. There are (in all five genders) those more wary of strength so many hide their power from their partners. While others only take it by cutting others down.
Which is where third wave feminism comes in. We have women, gender queer, a-gender, gender fluid, and men. Equality looks a little different from just wanting to fucking be able to vote. And all second wave really has established is they’re not TERFS and they don’t “burn bras”. Bet you would have if you needed to. But you don’t. Those women you mock took the heat and the singledom so you can sit there distancing yourself? I think not.
Third wave feminism is solidarity. It’s reaching out a hand to all genders and flooding places with applications. It’s pulling women up with them not stepping on their backs and it is indeed already happening.
It’s realizing women have power and numbers but need to solidify what we want. Which is frankly a women president.
But women lead from behind. They focus on cooperation and lifting others. While Men politicians tend to chomp at the bit in front – some scoffing at the input of others. Third wave feminism is saying our way counts too. Hilary Clinton was the kind to encourage and tried to enter a “Man’s world” with a mix. Her history said no, you share. Her attitude was “No. I’m in charge” and everyone went “Oh really?” But she was up against Obama first so fuck her frankly. It wasn’t the right time.
What we need is for women – all of us. To fucking vote. We need minorities to have access to polls and the poor not need to wait in a fucking long ass queue just to scribble on some paper or hit some dots.
Though I’m digressing a little. Third wave feminism accepts that the power is there but that means drawing the heat and some of the other genders would like to take that fire on and still be considered a part of us. It’s Trans inclusive, it’s friendly to men caregivers, it’s everything we already are starting to see, but haven’t yet identified.
Good job folks, the future is here. Let’s be less afraid of it.
I do not get as much done with Tabitha at the helm and that’s a good thing.
When we imagine heaven we tend to think of green open fields and a pleasant sky, maybe standing on fluffy white clouds, but most of us see green. This view is likely a hint into Al-Sama-Al-Danya the first level of heaven.
This mental image is rooted in our psyches. Healthy green environments have food maybe even safety. Perhaps the historical garden of Eden was a place of plenty and protection at the base of the Tigre’s and Euphrates where a lake now sits.
An Exodus from the garden would seem like punishment and story of a flood and all the animals running beside us would heavily inform our mythology.
The story of Eve would be the gatherer who dropped a seed and noticed it grew, Adam would have tilled the soil curious if this “seed” theory was true. The first scientists.
If the Garden of Eden is in our Pysches as a sense of home we long for, perhaps we can imagine the first level of heaven. A place of going home. Maybe each of us walk steps informed by our imagination of a home to go to.
In my case cold stone steps on a wet winter day leading up to a simple door. Inside a window to brilliant Christmas tree and welcoming friends. A sense of home permeating through the large green door. It looked warm and initiating and is the closest one comes to receiving notice of what is will look like when they first enter heaven – our attachment to the visual world shaping all we see and who we meet.
The idea of “Home” and wanting to go there for me is heavily influenced by moving around so much I didn’t really feel that anywhere. I certainly felt that way about my childhood in idyllic rural Lancashire. But heaven and perfection, the glow of gold light and open fields to play in, is very different for a child. My sister wasn’t as happy.
It was a real place and a real time I tried to return to and much of my family grieved, but it just isn’t the same anymore and really I would never be as happy as that child playing in the local stream. It wasn’t really Al-Sama-Al-Danya but my memory and yearn for such innocence and verdant surroundings made the sense of that door seem all the more magnetic. Am I home yet?
Some see stairs, some a golden ladder. We can not really imagine the full truth of a place of healing but we can feel it calling to us. The wronged who commit suicide out of loss often end there. If they find freedom in death. Otherwise the weeping soul will take you to purgatory to wait before you try again, if Allah is kind you try again right away and that can be unappealing to many.
When else do we feel such safety beyond emotional intimacy? Perhaps that is why we are so loved crazed and really hunt out the safety and vulnerability of sexual encounters that go beyond general rutting.
I have certainly heard the joke that sleeping with the right partner is “going to Nirvana” and the right interaction can indeed be so emotional, so connected, so life affirming some of us wonder why anyone bothers without. A Demisexual for you I suppose.
If you haven’t moved around so much, or felt such intimacy, or walked the steps up, the end can seem intimidating and out of reach. Certainly we must earn passage up with a good life and what that is has many religions guiding us to the same place. All are the hands of god. Catholic, Orthodox, Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism will certainly get you there. Maybe Hindi too though I know little of those traditions. But the guidance for what it means to be good is there.
If you need it. Some atheists are born with a moral compass that does not stray. You can be a good person without praying to god. But the community and the path there. And is just a little easier to take if you accept things moving around my room on there own are a sign there’s another world we don’t see.
Nothing will take you to Allah’s bosom faster than tragedy, but nothing can strip you of him just as quickly as the same. He will reach out a hand, and if you reach back and walk towards it, he will take it and pull you closer. Just don’t let go.
Ha! I’m one. To talk! If this is a repeat sorry. I couldn’t find it and didn’t sleep last night.
In general there are a few things we all want to know. How do we live? How do we ascend? How do I leave behind a world worth living in? Well there’s a one step process to being a contributing part of society. Get some fucking sleep. Then? Make sure everyone else does. To do that, fucking learn to fucking cooperate or add to the conversation if you won’t. (Sorry, working on the language thing, but seriously)
Predictable right? I had only been ranting since I woke that morning why sleep is everything to all of us.That’s the message. If you accept and understand why that’s the fundamental answer to everything we have problems with? You can skip everything else but may find it interesting.
But some of you won’t fucking listen. Which I do understand because everyone tells me something different then complains I didn’t listen. Weee a shell game again! I can practically hear people screaming “Yes. That is the problem. No one listens to me either and my name isn’t ‘Sylvanna’! I’m Not even in whatever game ‘They’ are playing!”
Let’s go with something easy, no not demons, ghosts, malevolent spirits, the fae, or any other supernatural scapegoat you can come up with. There’s a They. Not the pronoun but what do you want? Consortium? Their motives could be along the lines of the rapture science style, anxiety etc. I don’t know. I almost don’t care. And an Us. As in the rest of us who think the world can be and is worth saving though we do have days we question the latter.
Yes there are people who simply don’t want life to get better. And instead want it over. I do sympathize, oh how I do. It’s hard work. And I was absolutely 100% against all the effort it took to improve. To being in a world with so much suffering and pain. And I wanted out again when I did recover. I’d be a hypocrite if I said it didn’t seem pleasant. And what’s the alternative? Hell? I don’t believe it’s anything but a pit of demons and a place in Nevada. Reincarnation? Yes? Forget that it’s almost worse. I got lucky with my experiences. I tried again and it would be joining the queue to end up as a bunny or something.
So what do “They want”? To take everyone with them. Why? Not sure. Who else is there? Rich bastards frankly. And Politicians. Mostly anyway. Lawmakers, the people who fund them and any power below the throne.
What about them? You are not going to convince anyone to change anything unless you persuade them to let everyone fucking sleep on it. Get some good nigh-nigh. The cultural and foundational changes we would have to go through to get enough sleep would be huge. And a good crack into truly creating new structures that benefit all of us. Damn it’s the one thing we agree on. No one is sleeping enough. Not who isn’t so depressed they have other issues, or are manic and don’t need sleep. But in general we could do with agreeing on something to change. And being too tired is an across aisles issue.
Then what? We work at what we can. Do we have to agree 100%? No. But we need to look at why we don’t and work on those.
Voters with little income vote against progression? Wtf? Well do something about their situation and then see. Scapegoating stops when there is nothing to scapegoat for. Because in our society we rightfully don’t want to see bright lights extinguished by those floating in the dark. And be fair left of left and be patient. Easier said I know. But there’s only so much we can change on our end before solidifying the ground beneath the other.
Do we want to? Some of us no. But the rest of us see the practicality in raising up to stop “the gays” from being blamed rather than just pointing out how wrong that is. Good luck with that all the while they go hungry and pundits gave a (Godwins law incoming) surprisingly Nazi-esque solution which is to blame anyone other than those in power. We want people to stop bitching about “The gays” we put food in their belly. No seriously that’s how scapegoating works.
Oh god how we hate each other right now. Like we will never get along again. People held their nose or their wallet and voted for [fill in the blank] the rest of us hate. The blame good lord the blame. And those convinced equity does not mean we all have enough but that to have it we have to take from them to give to others. Do people want less when they have very little? No. So let’s fix that then fix opinion of who to really point the finger at – looking at you pundits on either side.
Yes today on both sides are just as bad… it’s not true. One side is for sure worse than the other, when it comes to leaders and atrocities done. But that’s for as stated reasons in voters and control and manipulation in politicians and rich people.Seriously stomachs first brains second. Is it right? Who cares. It works.
Is one side (Left most likely) going to help the hungry?) Yes. But Jesus Christ (Sorry God) build a fucking platform on that for once in your impractical lives. Left will likely vote left. You want moderates or those borderline you tell them what’s in it for them. This should be so fucking basic. But we focus on why we should be voted for vs why we should vote for them. Do you see the difference? It’s slight but present. Forget you, this isn’t about you. It’s about them.
It’s about us.
All of us. Lefts complain about politicians who are too moderate – basically calling them right wing. And protest vote or don’t vote because who they have isn’t left enough. Come on how do you expect progress to happen? But they’re assholes! Sure but they think the same of you. All they think of are themselves! Here’s a trick I learnt from a miserable existence. It’s hard not to be selfish when your world is that upside down. Not impossible to avoid. Some have to be pushed quite far before focusing on their own needs. But eventually pain will put you there. Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s their circumstances.
Okay, but there are racist fucks and learnt from their parents to be racist fucks. A problem. I agree. Remove the reason for scapegoating and you have voters not progressives and that kind of equity shouldn’t even be a disagreement. But I have searched and searched from where that form of hate comes from and all I can find is a way to blame someone, either the one who wronged great grandpappy or somehow grandad ended up needing someone to blame and skin tone seems to be enough.
Addressing foundational issues gets some. Even the great grandfather version is usually involved in perceived inequity or scapegoating. Or othering in an animal territorial nature. But those routed in the deep evils who have enough sleep and have been doing the wrongdoing for centuries? Sorry. I’ve tried understanding that level – even from the perspective behind scapegoating, othering and pure animal warfare – and just can’t understand why evil exists. I’ve tried. I can’t. And don’t want to. Those are hopefully a manipulative minority and the rest we can drag to the left a little.
What is evil? Okay no short answer so that’s another post. Short version is a cognizant manipulative force that will drag your soul under at all costs. So seriously stop the racism stuff because God is going to need to give you another round or two if not sitting it out in purgatory I don’t care how much you love “Prayer without change”. You don’t want to come back as a nematode so you should do some navel examination then get some sleep, and ensure everyone else does too.
Sylvanna Devlin 