Your lighter represented sex

And suddenly, out of nowhere I realised I have been using energies long before I knew what they meant.

I kept wearing crosses on my neck for ages because it was something that we chose to be our symbol and thus it will be, eternally, without a thought to the fact that our friendship was wrecked in all the possible ways. It will be a thing representing both of us, the connection and the choice to severe it.

Every time a cute guy would leave something at my place or I'd get it from his, and he said it's okay to wear it, I would wear it to feel cute myself.

I took your jacket today because I know you wish all the luck to me and I will need luck today.

I took the lighter of that guy to take a little of the excitement that a foreplay brings because we kissed and he wanted way more, his hair was laced with Eros' passion and a little excitement never hurt nobody.

I've been carrying that knowledge long before I knew it existent, I called it sentimentality, I called it symbolism, which, lets be fair, it is, but it also is energy.

Suddenly I could tell the energy every single thing was laced with, not that I would see a colour (though if I closed my eyes and focused, I could see traces of coloured lights). I just suddenly started to know what was laced with what.

I've been using lucky charms long before I knew, they simply weren't traditional ones. They weren't much of necklaces, stones or symbols that cultures used for certain meanings. What I was working all along with was... Belongings.

What belongs, that owns something of the one it belongs to. What belongs, is laced with energies running up and down it like silver veins filled with different lights circulating inside. And suddenly everywhere I turned, I knew what these felt like. Instantly.

My Other Life

As I lay back on the floor, spacing out somewhere beyond my ceiling, amber necklace warming my palm, I kept getting images. There were all those sounds, I've heard an eagle and I saw it, carrying to another what I have sent her. I saw it flying high above the woods on sunny day and I saw the river, I've felt the river, water flowing through the veins of Earth. 

And I knew it worked. 

I felt so pleasurably exhausted. With every second the exhaustion became worse and pleasure heightened. It ran my fingertips, it tickled my feet, my whole body was full of it. It felt slightly numb, but it wasn't scary. 

And I just lay there.

I have been reading for days and days, and days again. I have been following my mind till it switched from wanting to believe in the connection to feeling it. I have been wondering for some time why I have been drawn to magick ever since I can remember (maybe even before, who knows?). I have been into it since I was so, so small. I have been playing its ways in my latter childhood. Some of them were worthless plays, some were scary successful and haunting. But it has always been there for me. And now I am here for it.

And ever since I can remember I was drawn to all nature's elements. I am hypnotized by fire and its power over everything that we and Earth itself possesses. I can reach haven walking by the river, looking at the stones it comes accross. It finds its ways. It changes tracks. It covers our footprints and helps animals escape their fate, at least for a while.

The floods that take everything away. That change relief and tears whole trees from the ground with their hundred year old roots. The wind that bends everything in its way. That takes the roofs of houses as if those were made of tiny feathers. 

The storms, oh, the storms! The lightning bolts crossing the sky and making dogs, whose ancestors are howling wolfs, to scare. The thunder travelling in circles just above your house, like you were its prey, a small powerless animal for an eagle to take as easily as one snaps his fingers. 

It started in the middle of the incantation. It slowly got harder to concentrate and not lose the words. And harder. And more challenging. Casting the spell drained me like a vampire would drain his victim, taking the life force from veins one carries. Leaving just enough to survive and awarding with an amazing, ecstatic feeling, travelling your now half empty veins. Giving them a different life, life of joy, life of pleasurable fluster.

I've been searching for my faith for years, putting it in one thing or in another. But as I lay, my back gently brushing the floor, my eyes gently caressing the fine white of the ceiling, following the only visible crack, it was whispering to me, that crack was whispering that I've crossed a line, I've put a step barefoot onto the grass, giving myself up for the nature, letting it put me into its soft embrace, showering me with golden rays of the ending summer, letting it bathe me into the finest of rain, lighting me up from the inside with fire, striking the bolts of lightning around me, marking a circle by which thunders travel, jailing me in the carefully placed cilinder of thin glass, the particles of which there was the light travelling. Bright white light dancing around, celebrating my acceptance into the cirle of witches, holding their hands tight together and facing the sights of one another. Exploring skin and hair and clothing of another - she or he who stands in front, on the other side of the circle. Hundreds of miles away.