Thoughts.

[witchscauldron]

Today is the sky of my childhood. Pure, crisp azure, soft breezes, puffy white clouds drifting on the currents of the wind. The ground is soft and damp, still suckling at the remnants of last night's much needed rain. The air is warm, but comfortable. It is a perfect summer's day.

It is a testimonial to my self-destructive tendecies, and my proclivities to self-denial that I am sitting inside, in a darkened room, scrabbling away at the keyboard with my black-taloned hands. There is a perfect bubble moment sitting outside my door, and yet I feel as if I must crouch, tentatively, staring at this bloody glowing box. I should be sitting in the shelter of the wide arms of a maple tree, sketching, writing, singing...SOMETHING...other than tossing my energy into the sucking maw of the Internet.

How pathetic am I.

Raven's Daughter would be flying now, free, trailing sparks of Void-magick and chaos. I'm earth-bound, entwined in a trap of my own desirous creations. What folly.

-M.