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I dreamt while I was away, but not like usual - waking snippets of fur and Changing, spinning wheels and gambling fate, wolves and their kin. Very strange.
Last night, tho - well, I am certainly aware that if the Veil wasn't parting strongly before, it's blown wide open now. It's No-Time, that shivery world between the last new moon of the old year and Samhain, the start of the new year itself. It's always been a strange time, spirits and energy are strong and wild and the worlds overlap and cross over.
I dream. I am in a suburb - or what might be one or was one. It is derelict, dark night, rubble everywhere, most houses half-finished (or demolished, perhaps) and dark. There are no people out, just moving lights that make me scurry for shadow, and the howling of wind through crumbling brick. There is no life here, truly.
I enter a house, one that is populated with beds separated with curtains, as if it is a hospital. More people come in with me, young women and old, looking battered, worn. They are all confused, lost, uncertain of where they are and where they should be. A voice is off to one side, source unseen. "No, you don't understand. You can't go back. You're all dead. Yes, dead. As dead as the others over there." I turn and look at the ones lying on the beds - they are monstrous, green and bloating, deformed. But they are dead as dead; the rest of us still seem alive.
We begin to talk - the women are all frightened. They don't know how they died, or why. I begin to set up a ritual - I arrange an altar and many other candles and things around a black iron gate, and cast a spell I don't understand, really. I say that because it was obviously powerful, and very complex to maintain the energy, but I don't know what it was I did to cast it. One woman walks through the iron trellis, and vanishes in a swirl of gossamer mist. I work something else, shift the focus, and another walks through, and vanishes the same way.
The view shifts - I am standing outside, on a lush green lawn, where a family stands in a circle around the doorway of a house. It is the same suburb, but the houses are finished and there are plants here. Under the porchlight, the women who were dead reappear, and taken into the waiting, relieved hands of their families who thought them lost. I turn, and I am absorbed back into the shadows.
I think this was a second dream, this next bit. I was walking down a very twilight boardwalk, so to speak, by an Ikea. (O_o Ikea? Swedish for furniture designed by crack-addicts.) It was nothing but booth upon booth of bondage gear - shiny, soft, black leather, latex..mrr! There were people scening here and there. Most of them were in various stages of pierced and tattooed, and many had dyed hair. It was very interesting. I remember being bound at the hands, and flogged a certain amount of times...I seemed to be counting. Then I woke.
Some of that I associate with beauty, control, strength, and sacrifice. Some of it I associate with initiation. Very interesting.
I'll be back later with another post about my week away, I'm sure. :p
-M.
Last night, tho - well, I am certainly aware that if the Veil wasn't parting strongly before, it's blown wide open now. It's No-Time, that shivery world between the last new moon of the old year and Samhain, the start of the new year itself. It's always been a strange time, spirits and energy are strong and wild and the worlds overlap and cross over.
I dream. I am in a suburb - or what might be one or was one. It is derelict, dark night, rubble everywhere, most houses half-finished (or demolished, perhaps) and dark. There are no people out, just moving lights that make me scurry for shadow, and the howling of wind through crumbling brick. There is no life here, truly.
I enter a house, one that is populated with beds separated with curtains, as if it is a hospital. More people come in with me, young women and old, looking battered, worn. They are all confused, lost, uncertain of where they are and where they should be. A voice is off to one side, source unseen. "No, you don't understand. You can't go back. You're all dead. Yes, dead. As dead as the others over there." I turn and look at the ones lying on the beds - they are monstrous, green and bloating, deformed. But they are dead as dead; the rest of us still seem alive.
We begin to talk - the women are all frightened. They don't know how they died, or why. I begin to set up a ritual - I arrange an altar and many other candles and things around a black iron gate, and cast a spell I don't understand, really. I say that because it was obviously powerful, and very complex to maintain the energy, but I don't know what it was I did to cast it. One woman walks through the iron trellis, and vanishes in a swirl of gossamer mist. I work something else, shift the focus, and another walks through, and vanishes the same way.
The view shifts - I am standing outside, on a lush green lawn, where a family stands in a circle around the doorway of a house. It is the same suburb, but the houses are finished and there are plants here. Under the porchlight, the women who were dead reappear, and taken into the waiting, relieved hands of their families who thought them lost. I turn, and I am absorbed back into the shadows.
I think this was a second dream, this next bit. I was walking down a very twilight boardwalk, so to speak, by an Ikea. (O_o Ikea? Swedish for furniture designed by crack-addicts.) It was nothing but booth upon booth of bondage gear - shiny, soft, black leather, latex..mrr! There were people scening here and there. Most of them were in various stages of pierced and tattooed, and many had dyed hair. It was very interesting. I remember being bound at the hands, and flogged a certain amount of times...I seemed to be counting. Then I woke.
Some of that I associate with beauty, control, strength, and sacrifice. Some of it I associate with initiation. Very interesting.
I'll be back later with another post about my week away, I'm sure. :p
-M.
