Tuesday, 27 September 2011

The joy that is....

Taper brings up strange feelings.  So does death.  Death makes me want to consume everything in sight.  Food, men, drink.  I want it all - I am a bottomless pit of despair that must feed.  Feed to choke back the fear of the nothingness out there.  Fear - that fills my veins while I prowl.  Fear that walks with me and calls me darling and tries to tempt me with it's silken illusions.  Fear has made me do unwise things.  Fear also makes me laugh -- because it's when I feel the most alive. 

But sometimes this fear makes me aware too.  And if I can crouch low into my being I can watch this little snipper, perched on the roof of my heart and watch.  I watch my fear and my fear watches me and this sometimes is the best way to smoke the ferreted feelings out so no one gets hurt.  Which is why I think I like solitary activites -- running, writing.  I am alone often with my fear when I do both.   It is very intimate and strangely comforting to be with my fear and let it pace back and forth.   Like my cat, it usually settles down and naps lightly with one eye slighty open, squinting.

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About Me

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Chicago, Illinois, United States
A post modern crone, living in an urban fairy tale set in Rogers Park. Two parts story telling -- one part practical kitchen/spell magick.