Do you ever just feel... angry?
I've been in such a volatile mood lately and there's really nothing that I can account it for beyond stress. God, how do I accumulate said stress? I'm only a Senior in high school. But I do and it piles up on top of whatever happened the day before and the day before that. I have not been having a good month and you know? October is my favorite month of the year, because Fall is coming and everything is beautiful. The atmosphere is even clearer.
Everything is prettier right now -- that's the point I think I was trying to make back when I started this blog.
But there's something else about October too that makes me fill with a sense of elation. Beyond its suspending beauty, beyond the magnificent transition that catches me so steadily, it's the wind. One year ago, I was in a situation that made me utterly miserable. I was in a constant state of turmoil. At a loss, for truly I had lost all that I had. And then, in the most unexpected of ways, I felt light again. I was cleaning the rotten remains of my aunt's sorrows and her husband's irresponsibilities out of an RV that should have sparkled and still had that new-car-smell to it, but instead the cupboards and carpets reeked of decay and bitterness.
I had been shoveling maggots with my hands and scavenging trinkets, dragging barrels up to a pit to be burned and all the while enjoying my first few moments of peace in nine months. I slowed my work and lavished in the stenches, though they made me sick. I sang to myself and thought of naught. Because I finally had a moment out of her house, because finally I could breathe and though it was choked, my suffocation was not caused by dread and anguished fear.
I was rinsing out shelves with a hose, sitting on the very edge of the house's perimeter and I sat down. I felt whoozy. And then the breeze picked up. I could smell oil bubbling up from the earth, farther out in my aunt's property. I could smell the trees. I could smell mud. And the grass swayed and weeds towered up to stretch for the ever-changing sky. My hands were wet and bitter cold. My jeans were heavy. There was no sound. Nothing at all that could break the gentle whistling of the wind. God, I had known it was beauitful, but just the wind had made me realize I cherished that sparsely-walked land--even if I couldn't stand living on it.
In that moment of clarity, biting back tears and swallowing weak sobs, I just. Sat. I don't think I even breathed. And then my thoughts finally began to wander, but not in fast, short bursts. It was all one long train of thought that led me on through the course of my stay and how I had come to where I was at that moment. I thought of Alanna and Roderigo. I thought of Judy and Amanda and Brittany. I thought of my adopted grandmother, though never had I felt for her a familiar grace. I chewed on regret and anger, then let it all fizzle out of me. Slowly. Seeping into the earth and projecting it all around me, away from me. Casting it away because it had no right to be within me in the first place.
From that day, so early in October, I would suck in the wind as it danced past me. I would curl it around my fingers and let it pull at my cropped hair. I would speak into it, as if it would carry messages to those that I could no longer reach. I would cry into it in the fleeting moments that it took me to drag something outside. Then, the very moment that I would step back into her house, I would be dry and expressionless. Or polite and smiling as she wanted me to be. And I would dream in silence. I would sleep shortly, and wake swiftly. I would speak softly, but never abruptly.
I suppose that I could turn this into some religion-saved-me-in-my-time-of-need story, but it honestly didn't. I think I saved myself if ever did I need to be saved. However, timely as it was, I did find a name for what I believed in during all of this turmoil. And I think it helped me to focus on what I needed to. Because even if meditation seems all too time-wasting and tedious, that singular moment that I had to truly see in clarity what I had around me, helped me significantly. I was still suffocated and utterly struggling, but that moment... It gave me something that I could have, something that was mine, though intangible. She couldn't fucking burn that, now could she? She couldn't scare that out of me and threaten me with it. She couldn't make me feel guilty for cherishing it.
Either way the spindle wobbles, this blog funnels down to a topic that I tend to mingle with fairly often.
A friend of mine was recently inquiring about religion in general and of course, the only religion that I know is the one that I would reference too, right? I'd have no true authority dispatching opinions about another unless I had practiced and studied it, correct? (A point that would be well remembered to all.) And in truth, it reminded me very much of the stereotypes and the hollywood debauchery that has been hung over Wicca. Wouldn't it be awesome if I could conjure up some sparkling ball of energy and banish some ofrmidable demon with it? I can't. But damn, that would be awesome.
Magick, magick, magick~. Who shall hence on this earth cast it over mortals?
I could pick through every stereotype and every image in movies that has been prtrayed entirely wrong. Or. I could cut to the point.
And what fun that would be. But for a lack of time, I'll do the latter.
Honestly, I can enjoy a good book about a troupe of girls that sprout wings at will or vampires--non-glittering ones, thank you--that tear out the throats of those that they find wandering too near to their nest. I can also enjoy a cook book when I'm in the mood for baking. I'm not damning those cinematic or prosed wonders, but when people can't see the line between fantasy and reality, that's when I have a little bit of an issue. I do not, have not and never will be summoning demons out of my bedroom floor, for one. And for second, I don't think it possible, no matter how many goat babies I murdered or precious virgins I marred.
Sure, I do admit that I believe greater things exist. I believe that anything is possible. No, seriously. If an alien landed at my doorstep and asked me for some hawaiin sugar, after that initial shock? "Glad to help a neighbor." I'd smile, then get down to asking questions about wherever the hell he came from. Obviously, I would be curious, but I wouldn't cry out in disbelief and call the police or try to tear off what I could have sworn was a mask for some cruel prank. And I admit, I'd probably be terrified if he was all inhuman and sporting a set of teeth as beastly as a gnarled shark's cousin.
But I'm not exactly strict on the belief that if I somehow found the sight, I would spot Athena shining her armor on the cusp of a cloud either, you know? I don't think that every time we pray, some guy in a cloth gets a message on his beeper saying "Send a handful of Hope on down to Sue on Whatever Street," in the middle of a stroll on the rings of Saturn. (Sounds like a Linkin Park music video. -u-)
The strongest weapon you could have is your mind. How many times has that been said--inside and outside of my religion? Knowledge is power. You should cultivate your mind, yes? Use the rest of that scrumptious brain power that none of us seem to have harnessed yet. And use it in a way that suits you. But don't forget: karma is a bitch, kiddies! What goes around comes around and all that whatnot. Ah, you know all of that, right? I'm just playing parrot in a land of repitition. And those same sayings, those same elements of our every day lives? Are exactly what make up my religion.
Right before a game, the star player psyches himself up. Telling himself he can do it, everything will be fine. Then, he gets out there and he works for it. He doesn't just relax onto that cushion of thought--and he works hard for what he wants, he makes it happen. Well, if we're going to point fingers at 'practitioners,' he'll be the first that I name of the Devil's Children, because that's all we're doing people! No really! We make baubles and we put names to faces that we don't see, and granted, some people take it so much farther than it needs to go? But that's all it is.
Now, I have to cut this short, but I think next I'll bring up a little something that irks me.
Have you ever heard someone ask? "Have you ever kissed a guy? Have you ever kissed a girl? Then how do you know what you like!?"
Question of the Day: What's your opinion on some of the recent occult-based movies?