I am meant to be used. Use me. I really suck at this shit… like… I know how to do shit, I am bound to the laws of the here and now. I cannot foresee or anticipate AT THE SAME TIME AS fucking decimate and liberate..
I’m just a tool, so USE ME – Anthropomorphic metaphors
I am a sword, I am the weapon of the fucking gods. The fruit of the knowledge of good and evil. The sword that guards the garden. The gate keeper. The keeper of keys.
I am mercury, Hermes, thoth… hekate.
I am just me. I am just here. I can make people fucking listen or at least be the visible voice for the will of our whims.
I am the earth. I am mother goddess of chaos. The angel of death. Devastation is not my intention, a mere side effect of that ashit that I just do. I am the psychopomp, the Psyche and Tyche divine…
- Lady Eclipse.
- Midnight Envy.
- Sweet Bitterness.
- Lady of Luck.
- The Mortal Muse.
When the web was young and so was she, she learned to weave worlds with woollen words, material yarns for her friends to trace. Now both she and the world are wizened and weary. The world calls for god to come and save them, the children of earth are crying for liberation. They do not realise that no one will answer their call because no one existed at all… But she will not abandon them, she just has to make them see… The god as they knew him never was he…
She (a now grown wife and woman), has learned to spin spectres of silk using her voice as she speaks worlds into existence.
A witch? No. Only words in her kit.
When inanimate objects describe me better than characters…
…Because women are mere objects, placed upon the pedestal to be worshiped by men.
- A mirror. People see whatever they want to see.
- A stereo. Background noise
- A voice. I like to sing. Talk. Lecture. Discuss.
- A bridge. I explain shit to people they don’t understand. I listen. And stuff. And they… feel better… or… understand the thing I explained.
- A key. I never thought of myself as the key before… only she who held them… But… I am the key.
- Key. Mirror. Stereo. Bridge….
I feel pathetic that I’m more… inanimate than animate… material and mundane… I don’t even get to be divine nor demonic. I’m the plain Jane again… The weird and awkward shy… loner… again…
It kind of makes me want to cry… that… everything was for nothing… I felt I was from another planet and that made me happy, you know. Being a celestial carnate… But I’m much more base than that. I’m trapped here. Like.. I’m the material manifest… I’ll never get to be “more”.. this is as good as it gets, and from here on out I just get to become less…
I feel like I’m dying. Like my heart is literally … I don’t know….. my dad died of a heart attack (autopsy revealed) but before that we all thought he choked to death from his trachesotomy. He had his voice box removed.
I’ve always hung out with weirdos because it was the only place I felt I belonged. Because even though I “look” so neat and stuff… inside I’m like this mutant hybrid of every person who has seen my mirror… or crossed my bridge… or something.
I always stood up for them and spoke my mind. And I knew how and when to shut up. But now… I can’t focus… I can’t stop… And I don’t know what to do….
I feeelll…. Like I dunno… It just sounds fucked up. I can’t even put it into a sentence because that is what gives something life… And gives it form….. I can’t name is…. But… it’s like…. schizoid affective disorder…. hahahahahahaha and I just realised the acronym is sad.
Yup. I’ve always said I was solar powered because rain and cloud make me sad…. And…. seasonal affective disorder… And now schizoid. Woo
Originally published 2 November 2018 // Republished 27 April 2019