sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
Okay, so, there’s a movement tomorrow to do a witchy spell at the stroke of midnight. Specifically to bind 45, to prevent him from doing any (more) damage to any living human or creature or thing.

I am not a witch. I am not remotely Wiccan. I don't...do spells, not formalized spells, certainly not spells created by other people.

(I have cast-prayed before, on very rare occasion. I quietly lay altars and speak to my goddesses and send the energy out I can and ask for the guidance I need. I regular-pray damn near every night --if you've ever heard me recite the star-wish song1 and then fall silent for a moment, gazing at the sky, you've witnessed it.)

However. However. I am not a witch and probably never will be (though Sir PTerry has a better sales pitch than anything else I've ever seen or heard). But I'm not doing anything else at midnight tomorrow, and I actually have all the components. So much of humanity rests on belief, maybe if I can help add to this one, it'll do some good.

(And even though I'm not twenty-six and mad as hell anymore, I'm still a witchka and will probably never drop the diminutive for myself. Witchka, little witch, it just feels _right_.)

Anyways, you can find the ritual I'm planning to use here, in case that's of interest to you. I've dug through my tarot decks and have all five towers2 charging on my altar3.

Hey, it's more fun than sleeping anyways.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: You know this one. It begins with declarations of light and bright, and then an oft-modified line about the number of stars I've seen that night.

2: Well, okay, technically it's four towers and XVI: (In)Dependance from my hand-drawn major arcana. Which I should *really* scan and post, and even more really finish sometime. I drew it like three-four years ago at this point, and I was surprised looking through it by how much I still like it and relate to it. I renamed a lot of cards though. I don't feel the slightest bit about it, the whole point of tarot is to use it to focus myself.

3: I have an altar now, bytheway. I set it up originally at the Sanctuary, but I actually made a point of moving it when I moved, and maintaining it. I don't do a lot with it, but the big rule is that Nothing Goes On That Shelf Ever unless it's part of the altar stuff. Which is like nine tenths rocks, because boy, do I have a weird and complicated and important relationship with rocks that I should talk about sometime.

I'd post pictures, but you know. Matthew 6:5-6. ;)


Edit: On further contemplation, I'm not going to perform this --see comment thread with Keshwyn on DW.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
I am allowed to want things that aren't fair.

Really.

I'm not entitled to them, oh certainly not, but I am allowed to want anything and everything I want. And I'm allowed to say that, and see if I can get it, and make compromises, and work through things, because that is what mature adults do when they have desires. They take steps to see those desires through, be that to fulfillment or closure.

I am allowed to want things that restrict others' choices. I am allowed to ask them to let their choices be restricted. They are allowed to say no, and if they do, it means I get to learn how to deal with it. I like learning how to deal with things, it makes me feel strong.

And I am allowed to want anything and everything I want, no matter how dirty or terrible or unfair or cruel or indulgent or useless. Wanting is not bad. Actions are changeable, feelings are not, and desire is every bit as much a feeling as hatred or sadness or guilt.

(Sometimes I find myself repeating in my writing and need to change the words to be less the same. Sometimes I find myself repeating because repetition is ritual and saying the words over and over and *over* again sometimes makes it easier to hear them.

And so despite the fact that I know asking for restriction is not fair, and something I find horrific asked of me, I am still allowed to want it. I can cry because I feel betrayed, cry because I am jealous, cry for any number of fucked up fractured reasons (because I am a fucked up fractured person and know that I'm just very good at hiding it) but I cannot cry because I feel wrong for wanting.

Desire is not wrong.

And so it is written and so it shall be cast.

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sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Katarina Whimsy

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