Finding Persistence Amidst the Moon-Ruled Tides

Dreams of beautiful and amazing things can be frustrating, for in the dream it is just natural, but on awakening you will be divorced from the experience and placed back in reality. Sometimes you can be lucky enough to re-find that specific wonder in future dreams, but most often it is a singular experience.

Last night I dreamt of an amazingly skilled vocalist. I spent a lot of time listening to her, mainly it was covers of DSBM songs, sung cleanly. But I began to realize she had her own unique songs also.

I did not realize it at the time, but her voice was almost hypnotizing. I can almost still hear her now. I wish I could still listen to it. I thought she was young, but the more I listened to her and the more of her videos I watched I realized she had wrinkles around her eyes and lips, her age was older than I had thought.

The only name I found associated with her was Isis. I had a feeling she was Iranian, or from somewhere around that area. Her skin color was close to white, but her name and pronunciation of words was foreign. Her accent also played into the beauty of her voice.

I wish I knew who she was, or what her appearance meant in that dream. There was literally a drop in my chest when I awoke and realized that she wasnt “real”. How frustrating…

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I am in the process of setting up a cyber-temple for Santisma Muerte. It is semi-publicly available, but hopefully well hidden.

It was suggested I work with her, and in my first experience I was impressed by the outcome. She asked me to build an altar for her, but I lack the physical location for it, or the necessary required items, so I opted to make it digital.

I was worried about the possibility of it being lost or destroyed, but I realize that is a possibility also with physical altars. I know cyber-temples/altars aren’t very common, and much less so with Santisma Muerte also, but she didnt seem to be against the idea.

Ill try to work with this and keep it updated. With any luck it can prove transformative.

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I spent a few hours today designing a flag for myself. I plan on charging this and using it as a sigil of sorts to represent myself.

The green triangle represents a lush mountain slope, and the blue triangle represents a deep night sky.

The yellow/golden circle represents the daytime sun (masculine energy), and the black circle is of course representative of the nighttime moon (feminine energy).

The crest at the center is a placid pond, symbolizing stillness and reflection. Above it a dragonfly descends to rest upon it. The dragonfly is an important creature to me and represents a powerful predator who rules both water and sky. They are intelligent creatures, with 360 degree vision, whose dominion of the air goes unquestioned (except by other larger dragonflies).

Gold surrounds the pond, and it symbolizes strength, protection, and inherent value. The border is equal as a blazing star, and as a formidable shield. It both protects the pond, and shows to all the power and beauty that it holds.

The banner above the pond heralds my matron and the essence of my power CHAOS (CHAO being the singular form). The banner at the bottom bears my motto (Those Who Can Must, For Who Else Will).

The two candles on either side of the pond (Which I think will act as my crest) represent how my power manifests, through the number 11, which is both a number of creation and of balance.

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My dreams were odd last night, and I dont remember them great. Lots of the individual parts but not how any of it fit together. What I remember most clearly is trying to take care of the silver/grey cat that I owned, which is interesting as while I do love cats, I am very allergic.

The dreams were in two parts, split by a period of being awake. The cat persisted through both parts though. I do remember that the first dream was a pretty typical stress dream, the ones where im moving/packing. I found the cat stuffed and packed inside one of the bags, I was worried it was hurt or starving but it was perfectly ok.

In that dream also I remember a vampire who kept taunting me, but then it would hide behind a beautiful woman when I went to deal with him. I remember seeing him grab her by the neck with his arm, so she was standing directly in front of him, where he would continue to taunt me. I think it tried to attack even with his shield, but I dont remember.

Again though, what sticks out most was that cat. I wonder who it was or what it meant.

I found out my father and I were exposed to covid. He is sick and waiting on test results, I feel pretty much ok. Luckily we are both vaccinated. Hope this doesn’t turn into anything serious. Ill have to do some casting to assure that result.

Its confirmed we were exposed. I was exposed through work on Saturday, and my dad was either exposed then or some time earlier at the same location. He is feeling worse today but luckily he is still doing okay. I feel fine besides allergies and a touch of hypochondria.

His results are still going to take a few days to come in, which at that point I wonder if they will even do any good. Also lucky, is that the two other family members living with us arent sick.

I have also pretty much lost one of my last IRL friends. When I informed him me and my father were exposed, before he could even ask if we were okay he told me “I see more people with the vaccine getting sick than those without”. Literally go fuck yourself. I am both worried, and livid anyone would say something like that. He pretty much said “I told you so” when I was sick as a dog from vax symptoms a while back too.

He had the audacity to say “dont be a dick, im not being rude”. Well, its not fucking up to you to decide whether or not you’ve been rude. And, for someone who has said on numerous occasions “youre my best friend”, I would have thought you cared more about MY SAFETY AND WELLBEING, than you care about getting some bs point across to the person who could potentially SEE THEIR FATHER DIE.

Its time you learn two very adult lessons, think before you speak, and that I dont have fucking best friends.

200w
(Spitting in shame)


I worked with Quan Yen last night to assure he would get through this ok. Ill look into it again tonight also.

My father is over the hump of the sickness, confirmed covid. However now my mother is sick also. Again, luckily we are all vaxed so despite being sick the symptoms should be relatively mild. The sad thing is, just two days ago my mother went to recieve her 3rd booster shot, only to be denied because it wasnt long enough after her second.

Here’s hoping she is just being sensitive towards her flu shot, and she didnt pick up covid from my father. I on the other hand feel fine still. I was exposed a week ago today, and I believe the incubation period is two weeks, so I am most definitely not out of the woods yet, especially as a second person is sick. The third member of the household was asked to not come home until people aren’t sick anymore out of caution, not sure how serious they will take that however.

Im going to try my best to record this dream while it is still fresh in my brain.

It started off being fairly normal. I was ejecting my puppy from my room, as he was causing problems. My house seemed extra large, and victorian. I was pointing him down the stairs and telling him to get out. He left, but one of my sisters was in my room also, and for whatever reason I was directing her out like a dog also. She was pretty upset with me for this, and gave me a cocky response.

In fact, all three of my sisters were there… the strange thing though, is that I only have two sisters. I was directing another one of them down the stairs and out of my room now. This one was wearing a red-pink long dress, if I had to place an era I would say it was from the 20’s, it came down past the knees and to the ankles. As she was approaching the bottom she stopped in her tracks, and her eyes widened in fear. She began shaking, saying I dont know whats happening. Her voice was trembling, and a restrained scream.

It scared me also, seeing my own sister in obvious pain and danger. I grabbed her, hugged her, and just held. I did not know what else to do, it seemed like the only option. The dream skips here some.

At the bottom of the stairs to my room, was a large room that seemed to resemble a library. I direct both my actual sisters out and close the door. My third “sister” was standing in front of a mirror, smiling and brushing her hair. I approach her, and tell her I don’t recognize her. I can see my own reflection in the mirror as I say this, and I am trying to hold back a smile (which sometimes comes out of me without me meaning when I feel awkward). As I try to hold this back, I watch in the mirror as my eyes and lips bulge in an inhuman manner.

This enrages my third “sister”, and she turns with a look of pure rage on her face, and raises her hand to strike me violently. At this moment, I am grabbed, and I can tell it is from Santisma Muerte. I feel her press her hands against my back, where my heart chakra is, and I am overcome by a “popping” sensation and I see two beams of gold/white light burst from my chest, as if the light was piecing it all the way through.

At this moment I awaken to a dream-within-the-dream. I was in japan, staying at some sort of hostel. I was walking around the strange neighborhood. I felt alien, and was trying not to draw attention towards myself as I don’t know the language. I had an idea of the customs I had to follow, and was doing my best amidst the hustle and bustle.

On the ground I noticed to shards of ice. One of that same pink-red, and one of an “aquamarine” blue-green. The are large, and crystalline in shape. I pick them up and carry them in my hands as I wander. In time pink one begins to break from the wear and tear of me carrying it around, and it is significantly smaller in size now. I pass by multiple shrines and feel compelled to leave them, but cannot bring myself to put them down.

Now I am working in Japan, indoors at some sort of health-spa. There are multiple old men in a hot tub, working out with strange equipment. It is my job to refill their equipment with more hot water, and apparently to use it with them, as it seems to be a two person machine. I fill them wrong, and break the filling apparatus. I tell one of my superiors, doing my best to over-enunciate my english as I have no idea how well he speaks it if at all.

He is giving me stern and angry looks and tells me “A sincere and heartfelt apology won’t do much good with me”, and informs me that it is a very bad thing it is broken. Then, before me are multiple people, with complex toolboxes and electronics, attempting to diagnose what the problem is and how to fix it. On of them grabs the pieces and simply pushes it together. The man who had been telling me how bad it was it was broken began laughing heartily.


I am left with a feeling of overwhelming sadness when I think of this mysterious third sister. The pain and fear I saw her in was very real, and fucking tragic. She was beautiful, and although I said I did not recognize her, I know a part of me did. It felt like I was banishing her from me. In fact dwelling on this is bringing me to the verge of tears welling in my eyes. As I have writ here elsewhere “The wheels are ever turning”.

When I think about the equipment being fixed easily however, I have a sense of relief.

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Aaaaaaaaand, its a positive covid diagnosis for me. Luckily symptoms seem to be mild. Two days a go I started getting a headache that is now at a pounding level. Its fucking painful but if thats the worst I get ill he happy.

I dislike horror media so much, especially video games. Horror is not jump scares, or zombies with digitally altered voices making strange screeching noises. Horror is not the xenomorph, or the demon, or the werewolf. All horror comes from the natural world, and human nature itself. The real horror is the horror of man.

Any attempts to create horror with fictional creatures, must do so with the understanding that it is human nature which is most terrifying. Horror in the context of fantasy is nothing but a way for us to reconceptualize our fears into something that makes it more palatable. Something “otherworldy” and distant. It is a means by which we can ease ourselves of our fears by making them less real.

Especially in the context of video games, it becomes a power fantasy, a cathartic experience whereby our internal anxieties are made external, and we are set to overcome them. True horror brings no catharsis, no sense of power. We think that because a product can hit the typical beats, it then becomes horror. No jump scares, no setting, no vampire or otherwise mystical/impossible creature can make a product “horror”. Real horror is more than the sum of it’s parts. It is the very visceral pit in your stomach, your racing heart, your drive to avert your eyes from what lays before you. No formula can generate such a response, and veritably one piece of media which can summon such feelings makes successive pieces weaker. It is not that we become desensitized (and the implication we do proves my point about the failing of formula within the genre) but that the “soul” of the product is lost, as one can not copy feelings like one can copy plot or characters.

For horror media to really succeed at it’s job, the focus needs to be placed squarely on the human. For the cruelty of the human nature knows no limits, and is bound only by creativity. Likewise, the callousness of the world around us to our own survival is not hindered by time or empathy, and yet it is the crib in which we all live out our lives. The vampire ceases to be an archetypal symbol and conveyor of fear when we know the actions and form it will take. When such is the case it begins to be a symbol of fear, rather than a fearful symbol. The vampire will no longer be an arrow pointing at fear, but rather an arrow pointing at an idea of fear.

This is not to discredit monsters or fictional beasts as effective methods of provoking fear within a person, but rather to discredit shortcuts and derivative creations. Where now is the fear of Cthulhu after book after book, and game after game? Lovecraft understood his creation, few others have. After all this time, Cthulhu has gone from being a fearful symbol, to merely a symbol of fear. Something “artists” can point to and say “look and be afraid”. But we are afraid no longer, as that arrow no longer points to fear, but an idea we are expected to understand as fear. (I understand Cthulhu might not be the most perfect example of this but it is one I am familiar with. The Call of Cthulhu is far from the most frightening book, even within Lovecraft’s library).

Fictional creatures, or monsters can be quite effective at horror, but the focus should not be on them, but the human experience. Sure someone drinking your blood and leaving you lifeless is scary, but vampires do not leave us with that feeling any longer. The focus with vampires should be on the pain of the transformation, how they are driven to slaughter those that were once close to them, and how they are removed from the mercy of time and deprived of natural rest. Do not pose the question, “what will the vampire do to the main character?” but ask “what has the vampire been forced to feel?”, and from there you can extrapolate the danger to the character. We all know the vampire wants to feed from the main character, we expect it, and thus it lacks any horror. Instead, you could focus on what it is like to be hunted by such a creature, how something effectively immortal could outsmart the (presumably) human character. How it would play with it’s food while it hunts.

Im rambling and don’t know exactly how to end this. These are very rough ideas, and while I think there is some truth to them they need refined and worked on. I’m sure someone intelligent and discerning could pick apart some of my arguments here and I really wouldn’t have a lot to say in defense. The thing that I am trying to get at though is that “horror” sucks, well most of it. The setting and monster are expected to do all the work, when the work needs to be done by the person experiencing the piece of media. You can’t just drop the pieces in place and expect it to become horror, the fear needs to be generated within the person interacting with it, and when things are too fantastical or cliche there is nothing for the person to relate with, which is necessary for that fear to be created. Zombies might be frightening, but only when a person can relate to the situation in which the zombies are encountered, and not when they are watching a team of people execute them by the hordes. Above all else, the person must relate to the emotions present, because as I’ve said, the real horror is that of human nature, and not of the mere existence of a “boogeyman”.