Sunday, November 3, 2013

I Don't Even Know What To Think.

At ritual last night, I asked that my witch ancestors (not blood relations who were witches, since I don't know that I have any) come to me in dreams.

What I GOT was a scary-ass nightmare where I was the victim of a serial killer who is either crippled and older or pretends to be either or both, and who put a cardboard box on my head before killing me.

Go figure.


2 comments:

  1. I look at this one completely symbolically.

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  2. @ Morgan - well, yes, since I'd like to think that if a feeble serial killer put a large cardboard box on my head, I'd be able to get away *somehow*, or at least not die with a box on my head. But I wasn't *me*, exactly, I was in the victim's head and looking out of her eyes, and even with all the accusations of certain Witchfathers being no more than kinky old farts who we should now shun in Our Enlightened Age, I've never heard any murmurs of human sacrifice. So symbolic how? The old rebirth angle? I'm just not getting anything from this, except that I now seem to be low-grade sick, which I attribute to a riding student more than anything from the Otherworld.

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