sexy

you ask about my conscience and i offer you my soul

I've never thought of magic as something you can perform with a spell. Words of ritual are all very well, and they have their own use, but to me, that is not magic. Magic is a dance, a pattern, a knowing. Perhaps it works differently for other people.

I work my own magic just by manifesting. But when there is a great work that needs to be done, a work that is too large for me, I rely on other people to help. In fact, this isn't actually my own work I am contemplating. I am merely the orchestrator.

I am happy that it is beginning to fall into place.
sexy

things of power

I did say, "Meet me in a high place at the feast-time of the Son of the Sun and we'll see what power is."

Thank you for your continued faith.
sexy

oh, but my eyes still see

Silence is no longer golden.

One thing that I have heard a lot of lately, and that has made me shake my head in sorrow, is the idea that what one is or feels inside is a thing to be gotten rid of.

During one's life, one will make mistakes, and one will acquire what we call "baggage". That's a good term, for to attain enlightenment, that baggage needs to be unpacked, examined, and the lessons it teaches must be learned.

But what we are inside...to cut that out with a knife...no. It's there for a reason. If you say "This thing I am/think/feel/desire on a regular basis is wrong; I must excise it," you are excising YOURSELF. If it's been there over several lifetimes, particularly...you are making a terrible mistake, and you will pay for it later.

I understand why people say these things; I really do. I've done it myself.

And I paid.
sexy

i'll sing you back again

I'm a singer of songs and a player of music. These days, the singing of songs and playing of music is a softer profession. In my day, it was one of the most dangerous professions, and one of the most exalted, that one could hold. Most people don't understand that now, but we appreciate the ones who remember.

I hear songs in everything: the trees, the grass, the rain, the fire, the wind.

Thingwaer.

I spoke earlier of flames.

I didn't neglect to speak of the wind -- I was coming to it. The voice in the wind is quite as powerful, perhaps moreso in its own way, than the voice in the fire. Fire will devour everything; but the wind will devour the fire. And that is not wrong.

Thingwaer. Hear it.
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