Azure
Posts:
3
Joined:
Feb 26, 2008
Status:
Offline
Posted Thu Feb 28, 2008 7:09 pm...
Everything comes at the cost of something else. I know that. I also know that magick workers, above all others, have a duty to honor this truth. But I don't have to like it.
I have nightmares. Not the most moving statement for someone else to read: but believe me, they're not pretty. I have dreams where everyone I knew in BASIC is being carried off or is carrying off others, covered in blood and more wounds then I can relate. I have dreamt of cave-people ripping out my heart, and then controlling me with it.
These are my usuals. Sometimes they're worse, sometimes they're a little better...but this is the status quo.
There's a thousand ways of stopping nightmares. I could think of twenty without bothering to crack a BOS. But I know these nightmares are due to some indigestion or even my depression...they're the cost of seeing what is to come. You see, I'm one of those witches with a family background - my lineage extends back at least as far as the priestesses-before-the-Druids in the North, and the Oracle at Delphi in the South. When I first told my mother a dream-that-came-true, she barely reacted.
Now I face them as an adult.
I see the wars my family and friends fight in. I see gore and anger and hatred. I don't want to, but denying this sort of gift is actually worse then having it: it's the core of my intuition, and one of the few reasons I've lived this long. To give up this gift means I no longer have the ability to see good people from bad, or to know which path holds the most danger for those I love.
So I have nightmares. They eat my soul and torment my waking hours, but I cannot give them up.
Life's a bitch.
I have nightmares. Not the most moving statement for someone else to read: but believe me, they're not pretty. I have dreams where everyone I knew in BASIC is being carried off or is carrying off others, covered in blood and more wounds then I can relate. I have dreamt of cave-people ripping out my heart, and then controlling me with it.
These are my usuals. Sometimes they're worse, sometimes they're a little better...but this is the status quo.
There's a thousand ways of stopping nightmares. I could think of twenty without bothering to crack a BOS. But I know these nightmares are due to some indigestion or even my depression...they're the cost of seeing what is to come. You see, I'm one of those witches with a family background - my lineage extends back at least as far as the priestesses-before-the-Druids in the North, and the Oracle at Delphi in the South. When I first told my mother a dream-that-came-true, she barely reacted.
Now I face them as an adult.
I see the wars my family and friends fight in. I see gore and anger and hatred. I don't want to, but denying this sort of gift is actually worse then having it: it's the core of my intuition, and one of the few reasons I've lived this long. To give up this gift means I no longer have the ability to see good people from bad, or to know which path holds the most danger for those I love.
So I have nightmares. They eat my soul and torment my waking hours, but I cannot give them up.
Life's a bitch.









