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Oct. 13th, 2008 02:16 amSo, for all that I've been claiming to be a sorceress for at least seven years now, I've never really done what you would call casting a spell.
I will occasionally send energy, to wrap around other people, try and make 'em feel safe and warm. Good juju, good vibes, whatever. It's just one of those stupid silly things I do that doesn't actually possibly work, can't actually possibly work, because magic honestly just doesn't exist like that.
I'm still fair certain it doesn't. Magic, while wonderful and multifaceted, is not ever something that can be proven, or made real. It exists solely in the mental.
"Ah!" I hear the extrememly clever amoung you say. "Miss Whimsy, haven't you on multiple occasions said that you exist primarily in the mental?"
Yes.
Yes I have. Yes I do. Magic is just an extension of my already interesting mental world. Casting silly little spells of good juju, good thoughts and feelings is really nothing more than transferring those physical hugs I am so free with into a metaphorical Sense, rather than an actual physical thing.
Obviously, by my own rules, magic would work best on people who are also strongly based in the mental. It also follows that the single most accessible person for me to try and cast spells on is no other than myself.
(I've never really done that before. I've never been in a position where I am both rational enough to do so and broken enough to need it)
Tonight, it clicked. It took breaking into a building, climbing four flights of stairs, and staring out at a city that, at two on a Sunday night, still wasn't fully asleep. It took pushing past the usual fear, to realize, to be a part of, something beautiful.
The tears stopped immediately. My city, MY city has that effect. Once I was no longer crying, it was child's play to recognize the strength, the stability of the spot. Out in the middle of the world, underdressed, not even cold. I already knew that tonight I was going to cast my first spell, one of protection maybe, or stability. Going home became irrelevant. Here was the spot.
The spell wound up being one of strength. The kind of strength that feeds back upon itself, I pulled threads from all and many of you, grabbing at strings of pure coloured magic, wrapping them into one beautiful twisted rope, circling and blending and flowing into me and back into you. The colour of my magic is green, of course, but tonight, with the final surge that ended the proper casting part of the spell I saw Octarine (though it is one that I think will never be properly over, one that will continue to hold me tight and give me strength until I lose mySelf once more to the triviality of mundane life.)
Thank you.
Thank you to everybody who ever cared for me, who I ever cared for. Who will ever care for me, who I will ever care for. Who give me strength, merely by existing. Who are people, and real, and glorious because of it. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
The world looks So Damn Beautiful.
~Katarina de Whimsy
~Sor de Kyress de MOOP!
~Myself.
(And to you and you, please do not fret, it was truly nothing you did wrong, or failed to do right, that caused me to cry. You are wonderful individuals, and I care for you both, I do. We will discuss the night in greater detail later, no doubt, but know for now that I wish you all the best you can find in this world, and neither of you hurt me -merely reminded me of all the pains with which I hurt myself. It happens regardless.)
I will occasionally send energy, to wrap around other people, try and make 'em feel safe and warm. Good juju, good vibes, whatever. It's just one of those stupid silly things I do that doesn't actually possibly work, can't actually possibly work, because magic honestly just doesn't exist like that.
I'm still fair certain it doesn't. Magic, while wonderful and multifaceted, is not ever something that can be proven, or made real. It exists solely in the mental.
"Ah!" I hear the extrememly clever amoung you say. "Miss Whimsy, haven't you on multiple occasions said that you exist primarily in the mental?"
Yes.
Yes I have. Yes I do. Magic is just an extension of my already interesting mental world. Casting silly little spells of good juju, good thoughts and feelings is really nothing more than transferring those physical hugs I am so free with into a metaphorical Sense, rather than an actual physical thing.
Obviously, by my own rules, magic would work best on people who are also strongly based in the mental. It also follows that the single most accessible person for me to try and cast spells on is no other than myself.
(I've never really done that before. I've never been in a position where I am both rational enough to do so and broken enough to need it)
Tonight, it clicked. It took breaking into a building, climbing four flights of stairs, and staring out at a city that, at two on a Sunday night, still wasn't fully asleep. It took pushing past the usual fear, to realize, to be a part of, something beautiful.
The tears stopped immediately. My city, MY city has that effect. Once I was no longer crying, it was child's play to recognize the strength, the stability of the spot. Out in the middle of the world, underdressed, not even cold. I already knew that tonight I was going to cast my first spell, one of protection maybe, or stability. Going home became irrelevant. Here was the spot.
The spell wound up being one of strength. The kind of strength that feeds back upon itself, I pulled threads from all and many of you, grabbing at strings of pure coloured magic, wrapping them into one beautiful twisted rope, circling and blending and flowing into me and back into you. The colour of my magic is green, of course, but tonight, with the final surge that ended the proper casting part of the spell I saw Octarine (though it is one that I think will never be properly over, one that will continue to hold me tight and give me strength until I lose mySelf once more to the triviality of mundane life.)
Thank you.
Thank you to everybody who ever cared for me, who I ever cared for. Who will ever care for me, who I will ever care for. Who give me strength, merely by existing. Who are people, and real, and glorious because of it. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
The world looks So Damn Beautiful.
~Katarina de Whimsy
~Sor de Kyress de MOOP!
~Myself.
(And to you and you, please do not fret, it was truly nothing you did wrong, or failed to do right, that caused me to cry. You are wonderful individuals, and I care for you both, I do. We will discuss the night in greater detail later, no doubt, but know for now that I wish you all the best you can find in this world, and neither of you hurt me -merely reminded me of all the pains with which I hurt myself. It happens regardless.)