Is it the nature of the universe for things to happen all at once? For chaos to continue, once peace has been broken? For things to tumble out of control with continuous events that plunge the world further into confusion?
In which Alura is in the pod, Astra is in Project Cadmus, and nothing is easy.
“I have lived through much.” Eyes gaze in an assessing manner at the other, though her words remain cryptic at best. It is hard to explain thousands of years of history, thousands of years of loss and pain and guilt and anger and hatred. Better remain a mystery, never to be uncovered, than a truth too hard to contemplate. “There are similar wounds lingering in my past.”
The efficacy of A. O. Spare’s sigilization technique has proven itself undeniably sound, and yet I feel that a greater challenge awaits, that AOS himself merely initiated an approach and orientation towards magic that must be carried through to its logical conclusion. We have already transcended his systematic use of the monogram as evidenced by innovations such as auditory, gustatory, olfactory, and kinesthetic sigils, as well as the contemporary use of multimedia. Peter J. Carroll’s postmodernist expression of Spare’s original thesis, chaos magic, continues to push the envelope in terms of ‘magical modeling’ and technical innovation.
I feel that the next great leap forward within this magical current is contingent upon the continued distillation of its technical repertoire. Inevitably, we must at some point come to work purely and exclusively with emotion, intent, and symbolic thought, without the aid of physical tools and artifices assumed to be essential to the performance and function of magic.
hit the wall and he was sure one of his ribs would be broken after that. He
looked up at Cat, hunched over and pleading. “Please, Cat,” he rasped, “you don’t
know him like I do. He only brings destruction and Chaos…”
But the Dragon
within him hissed with excitement. “My dear,” he rasped, “you seem in awe of my
power. As I am yours…” His host’s eyes glowed gold despite Martin’s protests. “Thank
you for exulting me.”
I’ve been caught up in a free fall of mixed emotions and confusion for months now. But I have recently found my comfort in the safety net that is you.
It feels like forever since someone has made my heart beat the way you do. I can’t get enough of your gentle touch. Or the way you look at me out of the corner of your eye when I say something that sparks your interest.
You’ve reminded me what it’s like to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment while the chaos of the world continues on without a second thought.
Nights have become my favorite hello and mornings my worst goodbye.
I wish I could lay with you under the night’s canvas forever and never worry what the mayhem of the morning will bring upon us.
Ever since you caught me from my free fall I am no longer full of mixed emotions or confusion.
The post-travel chaos appointment juggling continues. I thought I had one at the diabetic clinic on Wedensday, but when I phoned up to check what time it was for, it turned out to be on the 26th as well - the same as the eye surgery *and* the endo! (In fact, scheduled for while I’d still be on the fucking endo table) So now I’ve changed the endo one to 2nd September, which is still a Friday, at 09:30, which means I have to figure some way of getting picked up as they won’t let me out without a ride home and somebody to be around - and I’m still stuck hanging around Harrogate for four fucking hours post eye surgery next week waiting for the diabetic clinic appointment at 15:00, during which time I’ll be bascally blind and be unable to read/go to the pictures/etc…
“Don’t…exist?” Billy blinks, his smile fading into a look of confusion. Suddenly, he gasps. “Ya mean you’ve never had a mom to make you cookies before!? Or a dad to ask you to pull his finger when you need to laugh!?” The boy seems genuinely surprised by this but any idea or advice he may have been tempted to give the chaos lord here had gone out the window as soon as his nose is brought into the conversation (not that any of it would have been helpful anyway).
Billy chuckles as it’s poked, grinning once more. “Teehehehee! I dunno what that means but it’s pretty big, huh? Ooohh, wanna see me shoot SNOT outta my nose? HUH? I can hurl it like a rocket!” Without waiting for an answer, Billy holds a finger to one of his nostrils, snorting loudly in order to gather a grotesque amount of snot in his nose. Then, he has no hesitation in blowing his nose, which launches a large ball of snot and spit a long ways ahead of him – it hitting a nearby fence with a nasty ‘splotch’ noise.
The child only seems to laugh at his odd capability. A a very interesting child, he was. “Did ya SEE THAT?! I think I beat my record from last time, eheheh! I can’t wait to show Mandy! He bounces up and down ecstatically.