Pathworking My Current Past Life (Shadow Work)

I accidently almost killed my kitten Luna. My beautiful odd eyed Luna… Last night when a friend was here, you see I have this portable clothes washer and spinner that I fastened to an end table so it’s high enough to drain into a bucket, and well it does almost a normal size load of laundry so it’s really nice. But I forgot to empty the bucket underneath it, after washing the clothes, when I ran the rinse cycle. It overflowed and then it actually ran down the radiator pipe in the corner, and my land lord came up because his pizza shop is below me, because it scared him, that it’s an old building and a leak could be any time lol. He wasn’t mad or anything, and it ended up being funny.

Until About noon, when my kids and I were surprised, that Luna still hadn’t come to meet them. She’s been very friendly with my friend, and my landlord. Not overbearing, but interested in meeting them and seeing how things go. Well I went looking and found her… and then remembered she didn’t sleep with me like usual. Her breathing sounded like mine did two weeks ago, when I had to go get steroids, my chest was so congested. Her nose was running, she was panting and over heating and well she looked liked she had a tiny bit of vomit on her chin. I was like wtf. she’s sick, she’s real sick and looks like freaking shock almost. I bathed her thinking as long as was careful to keep the water warm, so as not to truly set her into shock, I could warm her up, maybe make her vomit in case she ate something and clean her up. I gave her benadryl for the anhistamine, got down on the floor with her by the vaporizer cuz it runs hot, and took turns with the kids rubbing her cuz she cooled down too much despite my best thoughts towards it.

She’s sitting up and moving now, and I just had to redose her benadryl, because about an hour after it wore should have been safe for a second dose the breathing issues got significantly worse again so I knew it was helping. but. I accidently poisoned her.

When I moved in there was a mouse that would run from the mouse hole in the wall right behind the stove to one under my sink. So I bought the tomcat poison in the pet safe tray, put one under sink and one behind the stove. Luna couldn’t fit back there, plus it’s designed so that mouse has to enter the trap to get the poison, because cats and dogs are known to be attracted to it.

Well the water ran right under and behind the stove… I mopped up the water, didn’t think about the trap being there, didn’t go out of my way to leave it perfectly dry but was just like, well mopped the kitchen. When I went to bed, I actually had to pick the new bag of cat food up, because luna kept scratching at the plastic outside. I thought she could smell they were different foods and wanted that one more than hers. I picked it up and sat it on the radiator so she couldn’t reach it, and I could go to sleep. Her food bowl sits back in the corner, she’s been playing with her food and knocking it out on the ground…

I didn’t realize it would take so little poison, I didn’t think about it being back there, I didn’t think about water contamination, I just moved everything mopped and sat it back down. The cat food bag barely got wet, they also have thicker/plastic like bags now… so no harm no waste no foul, nothings wet or damage from one five gallon bucket of water.

Except Luna’s not out of the woods. She’s at maybe 50/50 right this moment.

I sit here, contemplating Alice, using a variant of this: Raphael mantra - success story I keep reminding myself it’s almost the same as with Alice, only now I actually know how to push with intention.

To me: Have you tried the Raphael mantra wrap?

Me: Not yet, I just sat down to look it up to make sure I was remembering the right post, when you and gram both started messaging me :joy: She’s literally spamming me atm so it will be… ten or twenty before I can actually try it.

Well I think she’s got fair odds. She doesn’t feel like she’s knocking at the door like she did an hour before I messaged you this afternoon.

Good thing I looked up this mantra, I was thinking it was the words going in a circle around the person in the area, like floating letters circling the body area in the aura/energy field…But it’s triangles.

I can’t see, but I can trace invisible lines of shapes and letters and words, if I know or can imagine in words what it would look either due to having seen something similar or a memory or whatever. I mean there’s no visual at all but I can push the energy like its the shape. So to do a triangle outline and push the energy/name in the shape around her body is doable.

To me: I’m actually surprised Benadryl would have an effect on a poisoning.

Me: I am and I am not, because it might not have had an affect on the poisoning at all…

But it has an affect on the symptoms of the poisoning, which gave her body and the energy I was pushing a chance to fight.

And the above about not being able to see but being able to work with details if they are known things, like Just cuz I can’t see it, I’m not going to forget what an R looks like, I’ve seen it so many times. But that’s why I can describe to like Rey, the how to visualize something I do, because even though I can’t do it, I can comprehend how you do it if you can see.

Edit: So it’s rather strange, it’s almost like a blind person who lost their sight, rather than a person born blind who could never see.

It’s actually a lot harder for me to take the way you guys work with things, and figure out how to work it for me, than it is to describe how I do something to you guys. Because of how I apply memories to describe how you could visualize the things I already know how to do.

Nothing can hurt her at this point. I keep doing the triangle, sometimes doing Bast’s name though. It’s easier to do because it’s fewer letters.

I sit here, and I can’t help but wonder. If this was how it was for my daddy, when I almost died at 2 years old. Did he literally will me to live. Did he hold me here-in this plane, while the door of death stood wide open, beckoning me into it’s warm embrace.

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I’ve been delaying this entry. I wanted to be sure I think, that Luna was going to make it. I know her recovery doesn’t fit in the purview of this journal, but I already went there, but even speaking on my mistake and that she was fighting for her life. I may as well conclude the story, in case someone stumbles upon this and wonders. This post is mostly reflection, and will contain little to no memory, unless they are rather recent ones.

Luna is doing fairly well. I’m not sure how to describe, what it feels like when a person or animal is in front of you, and the door to death is wide open. There time has come, this it and it’s the end, and there is little choice, but for them to walk through it. I’ve experienced it with people, many times who suddenly or unexpectedly died the next day. I’ve gotten good with estimating how long until these people pass. I can usually nail it down with in a four hour period of time.

Don’t think this means I am heartless. I have nothing to do with it, other than observing it. Most of the time, it simply is. The person or animal is older, their time is short. Long lives, long sickness’s at times, long suffering at others. Often, it’s almost a relief, to learn this person will not be with us soon. It was a few weeks ago with my great grandmother. But it was not with Luna.

Luna came to me when she was about 5 weeks old. That makes her roughly 12, 13 weeks now. She was too young to come home, in my mind, the day I got her. But the sad truth is, if I didn’t take her, someone else would have, and well frankly I wanted her. I knew the moment I saw her picture, I wanted that kitten and her name was Luna, because her fur is a bright pure white, just like the moons, on a clear and crisp evening.

I saw her and I thought of someone I love, who loves the moon.

She’s a pretty amazing kitten honestly. I’ve never had a kitten learn the word no, and listen to it on a regular basis. Usually, cats kinda look at you like fck you and do whatever they want, unless you get up and intervene, if they are hard on it. The other thing was her name. She picked up on it with two days, coming anytime I said her name. One might think I live alone, and don’t have company often, so it’s my voice. It is not, she would come to my friend by name within those first two days, and she also doesn’t when I am just speaking out loud, such as in ritual or on the phone with my kids.

We’ve had a lot of arguments though, she is a kitten after all. She’s great with the rules she knows, but she’s always finding new things, that I need to make rules over. I went three days not speaking to her, because she had a wild hair up her ass about playing too rough. Every time I’d touch her, she’d go wild. I treated her like I would my kids, if you want moms attention, there’s a proper way to get it.

Three days isn’t a long time, for a kitten to figure out how an action leads to a reaction. She’s a pretty smart cookie, but cats really can be, in my experience.

Luna was bad when I found her. Really bad. I could tell that she was right there, just waiting for the okay to walk through the door of death. I don’t how else to describe it, so if my way doesn’t jive, whatever. I can’t make images so you get what it feels like to me. I never once felt 100% that Luna could be saved. I knew I was putting my all into her, I was using the mantra wrap with Bast’s name, I’d spent all afternoon pouring healing energy over her, my kids even got involved. They didn’t know what exactly, but my daughter scooped her up and held her for hours. Willing for her love, to make Luna better.

The daughters going to be a little bit like me. I mean I’ve never seen anyone, more sensitive to myself to death like that and how it hurts to see an innocent lost, except her. I knew my daughters will and belief in healing Luna, was likely stronger than my own. She can go all in, with an animal she just met every single time, it hurts her bad when they are lost, but she can go all in.

I was worried, I was really worried. Most of my worry stemmed around the fact, that I was giving all I had to give, but I knew and could feel it wasn’t the same as Alice. I knew how to direct the energy now, but that didn’t make it as strong. I knew it was because my emotions for Luna, are no where near as deep as they were for Alice. Alice was my best friend, my companion, and my protector. She lived through horrible traumas with me, that I should never have to face again. It’s a good thing, but Luna won’t have that with me. My time with Luna, will for the most part, be a much happier time, than my time with Alice, ever could have been. I can’t even feel bad, when I look at roughly 9 weeks versus over 5 years. I just can’t, that’s how the heart works sometimes and that’s how it worked here. There was nothing I could do, to deepen the emotions I felt for Luna, and be a better healer for her.

I just knew that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care or love her. It was just it wasn’t as deep, and nothing could change that. The big factor in Alice recovering so quickly, was the depth of my will for her to do so. So I got help, I got good help. A friend did a pathworking with two angels to help her. Then another friend literally took, as much of the negative energy surrounding Luna, as he could. Then land spirits approached and Bast and another god, and I had hope.

But I wasn’t sure. I felt where Luna was when we started. I could see the improvements… but I’ve also seen animals come back, you think you saved them, just to find they died throughout the night. I’ve slept during the day the last two days, because I have this silly belief, that if Luna is going to die, it will be on the night shift. If I can’t keep her here, I’m going to be there saying goodbye when she goes. End of story, I deserve to at least suffer through it with her and let her know I did indeed do my best.

Luna’s still not 100%, this will be day three since it occurred on Friday. She’s been continuously improving, a little at a time. She has not rebounded as quickly as I hoped, or as Alice and I know that is largely because I simply didn’t have the same depth of devotion on my part. I didn’t even tell the people that aided me in saving Luna, how close to death she was. They both seem to have picked up on it, but I couldn’t afford them or my children knowing. If they doubted it, I was afraid it would swing her right into that open door.

But they believed. They believed along side me, all night long and three minutes before sunrise, Luna started to come around. It was significant to me, because I said we would know by sunup. She was still pretty damned sick, but the odds had shifted dramatically, with the rising sun. Now Luna is moving around, covering her poop and pee mostly in the litterbox, and drinking water. She’s started to notice when I cross the room, and look to see what I am doing. She moves near the vaporizer when I put new meds in it, and away when her nose is not as snotty. Luna is going to make it, it will be a few days still before my kitten is my kitten again, but she’s on her way back.

I can’t say why but this led me to think about the balance in my life. Maybe because of the balance, between life and death and how the scale can tip so dramatically, from one end to the other. I keep getting told, that balance is my biggest near future goal, that it’s something I have to figure out. I know I do. Right now I’ve got to type up notes for two different people. The works done, but I’ve been delaying on the notes for days, because both are unintentionally lusting too hard for results. The longer I delay the longer the magic has a chance to work. I’ve talked to both on it, and try as they may, they are convinced they are not over thinking it, yet I still get your emails guys. I understand trust me I do, but your words don’t match. Sorry they just don’t, despite your best efforts.

So I am behind, on purpose, I’ve not picked up a new pathworking or practice since the intensive and I know that I would feel better and be happier if I did. I don’t understand why I hate routine so bad. Why do I have to force myself to stay motivated. Most of the time, I don’t even give routine a chance before I decided I either can’t do it or hate it. This is so stupid of me. I was so pleased while I was doing the intensive, I mean there were days I was rushed… but I was happier. I had more energy, I felt less dread, I had my notes caught up…

That led me to thinking about happiness. I’ve been working against another witch, that shouldn’t have intervened but you know life. Some people do whatever they want whether they should or not. So I’ve been standing up for myself and doing my best to right a situation that I shouldn’t even be in. But god how I can see it’s value in my life. I want to jump to that, but I think I’ll finish the happiness, so put your finger here, I’ll come back.

I thought about what I am trying to do though and why. The first answer is happiness. I was happy with this person, like I had never been happy before. I was much more balanced and grounded and very low risk for loosing myself. So I was like yeah, he balances me and that’s good and I need balance. But dammit. I have this mind, and I know it’s not true. He didn’t balance me. He didn’t force me to take a schedule or to work within reasonable time frames or to go to bed with him at night. That was stuff I did, because it made me happy to do it, to be with him and be balanced.

So to continue the happiness thread, I had to ask why I thought he made me happy. I realized he didn’t. He contributed to it, hands down. He made me feel valued and loved and appreciated and many good things, as well as the deepness of our connection and the things we shared… all of those were contributors, but they didn’t force me to be happy. I can see how situation leads to how you feel and can even shape how you feel, but somehow we make ourselves happy, or so I always read that.

I don’t know where I am going there, because I am not miserably unhappy. I am in pain, but most days I am as happy as I can be given the circumstances so no. I’m not wanting him to make me happy, I’m wanting him for something else. Do I even know what the something else is? I mean, to get back to the topic of this journal, we are different people now. May 21st, was a few months ago. I’ve experienced a lot. I’ve changed a lot. I’ve embraced a lot. I have new friends, new minions, a new outlook on life. My goals haven’t changed much, but they’ve become more refined. To put it shortly, I am not the woman he loved now, and undoubtedly this will be true with him as well.

Then I had to take a moment and think about how that was no different, than how we were before. I understand he’s hiding something from me, something he thinks would change everything as far as what I think about him. I even understand it is likely the reason our relationship started. I guess he didn’t know I picked up on it day one. I mean I did try to scare him away after all. So maybe I should have let him know somewhere a long the line that I knew, and I was okay with that because…

Because I remember the moment the first real emotion took root in his heart, and I remember how deep those roots grew. It was clear, that the intention might not have been what it should be in the start, but that changed. He truly loved me in the end, and I knew it without a doubt. See people make mistakes. I’m really good at understanding this, and I know he knows it, and still somehow thinks it wont be, but I know me. The past is something we grow from, not something we should live in.

I ponder how the catch up will go, how do you even begin? I’ve learned why Azazel is in my life, I’ve even learned why I have anphantasia and some of my other weird things. I’ve called upon, an average of 75 spirits for 14 days, and fck my life. It worked, someone came into my life that could help and they did. I’ve seen that Azazel, and Belial and Abaddon and Bast and few other names, are silent players in my life. I see the list grow and wonder, who else am I going to meet, in the months to come.

I have had so much happen the last thirty days, that my fcking mind is broke. I’ve done projects for others that had over a 50% close rate. I’ve helped heartaches being to mend, I’ve done readings that were spot on for several with in a group… I mean wtf is going on how is all this shit possible.

My mind feels broke, because you know how we always think, well results lead to belief and well you know you just kinda start a little at a time? Well I did that and still doubted it cuz I was born with this logical and realistic mind. I doubted everything, and anything. So I did this two week intensive, at the prodding of Azazel, fully worried that I could loose myself and go truly bat shit crazy, and what happened, was I forced myself to believe. Like those people who needed a miracle to believe in god, god dammit I’ve had miracles coming at me all over.

If you knew the details and you saw the things like I have, you’d be like whoa not possible. So now I have no choice. I was already well on my way to embracing who I am, but fck me. Now its a done deal. There is no more doubting so much, there is no more I don’t know if I believe I in these gifts, it just can’t. Even the logical mind reaches a point, you can’t have so many… impossibilities happen and still not believe. Just can’t…

So I am in a situation I shouldn’t be in, it shouldn’t have happened plain and simple but. Gosh have I seen good because of it. The day I came home, I would have torn my gifts from my spiritual body, and lived like the rest of the world till I died, happily to fix the situation. I knew it wouldn’t fix it so I didn’t go there, but man if it would have fixed it, I would not have thought twice.

Instead, I am here further in than ever, making progress and getting results. I am becoming the person I was meant to be, instead of the person this life destined me to be.

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I loved to go for walks, when my maternal grandmother would visit our home on Cardinal Lane. I don’t remember ever going for a walk, unless she was in town. She lived in Oklahoma City, when I was small and worked as a Registered Nurse. It didn’t seem like she came often, but when she did, she was obsessed with taking an evening walk. I loved it.

Loved the evening walks, because it meant I could play with my shadow. None of the adults seemed to take notice, and I often walked behind them, so as not to draw attention to the fact that I was playing with, once again something they didn’t believe was real.

I don’t remember too many conversations with my shadow, but I do remember playing games with it, it would hide, as we passed in and out of the sun, and I would try to guess where it would show back up. I understood, it disappeared due to the position of the sun, but still it spoke to me and we played this game, to almost make it more fun I think. I knew that shadows didn’t normally, actually interact with people. Even at the age of around five, I understood what shadow technically was. But I didn’t understand why mine would talk to me, whisper in my ear. It was so much like the little bright lights that my mother insisted were invisible friends, that I tried really hard to not let anyone know, I was playing with my shadow.

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I suppose, that it’s time. Time to consider if I have any last words about Luna, this crazy fcking life, and how does it fit into this journal, and it’s purpose in my life. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, and I guess I could go either way.

On one hand, Luna’s death is the result, of a very recent current past life. If I was still the person I was prior to arriving in Pennsylvania in late may, or even the same person I was the day I moved into this apartment, I suppose it wouldn’t be relative. It might not even have happened, and if I had not been who I was, a year ago, she would still be alive today.

But, in many ways I already am not that person. I am evolving now, on what seems like a daily basis. Will I ever be the same person for long? Somehow I doubt it. I know many people, live long happy, and healthy lives, with minimum change to who they are. But that is not my path, mine is one of continuation, always growing, always learning, always diving deeper and always reaching further than I could before, Always over coming the hardships.

Luna passed away last night, rather suddenly. She had a great day, her nose was no longer running, she was eating and drinking without prodding from me. Her litterbox looked good, she was covering her poop and pee, seeking affection and even coming to bed with me again. Luna even started talking to me again.

You see she was one of those cats, who animated her every thought, with a meow of some sort. Much like the bark of a dog, can indicate pain, happiness, playfulness, and a whole score of emotions, Luna would meow me into submission. For the first long bit of her recovery, she would attempt to speak to me, and her meow would come out silent, or hoarse. Under the circumstances, it felt quite good, when Luna’s voice finally returned.

So what happened? I was sitting at my computer, she was snuggled into our bed on the couch. Everything was going great, until Bam. Luna fell off the couch, with a thud. She hit the floor limp, I could hear the sound of her skull, smacking against the floor. I rushed over and found she was barely breathing, her pulse was nearly gone. I had just spent a few minutes with her, maybe a twenty minutes prior, and she had been doing quite alright.

Now she was stepping through the door, and I knew it wouldn’t be long. I had no idea how the door had been flung so violently open, and called to my familiar, gifted from Azazel. Then I called to Azazel, and Bast, and my clown Samedi, keeper of the cemetery. I made a bold, yet genuine offer, I was not unwilling to sacrifice, for my beautiful, odd-eyed Luna.

I knew before the offer left my lips, before I added two minor but well thought out conditions, that my terms would not be accepted. Nothing would, something had changed, and she had already been healed, and recovered, on my behalf. All prior negotiations, aid, support, none of it mattered.

I begged Luna to stay, I pleaded with her to stay with me. I’d already tried kitty cpr, I’d already been told no, so I begged her, with all that I am, to stay with me. It shouldn’t be this way. It’s really not fcking fair. How can this be, to this sweet, innocent, vibrant being. How could my little girl with this really special soul be leaving me now, when I really kinda need her bad right now.

I began to let those important to me know, that Luna had passed. I shared what had happened, and one friend, held to the fact that he believed the native witch, working against me, had a hand it in it. One way or another, intentionally or not. We didn’t really didn’t discuss hows, or whys.

But I mentioned it, to another close friend, whose fairly privy to the situation and the heavy work being done, as well as the shit, that I am attempt to negate on a daily basis. He said idk, seems like a stretch at best. The logical mind in me kinda agreed. I mean the entire ordeal was a freak accident, nothing could have been done to prevent it, cuz it just shouldn’t have happened and no one in this world would have considered it as a future possibility, because it was such a freak thing that she ingested poison, that had been responsibly put beyond her reach, even being in a pet safe trap. Just couldn’t have seen that one coming, and I don’t think anyone can say I could have.

So I decided to divine the situation. I assigned five or six suite cards, ranking from page-king, to key players in my life at the end of June. I have the date and time stamp, because I sent it to myself as a text, thinking you never know where you will be, when you need to do a reading on the fly. I based the suite on the astrological correspondence, then chose which card within the suit, fit the individuals personality. I even picked one for me, as I figured it is always possible, that I somehow am the problem and not just living in the result of said problem.

My question was, who or what killed or influenced the death of my Luna.

Well card number 1, was my card. Card number two, jumps to the devil reversed. Oh well that is a pretty good description for a native-momma witch, who thinks her happiness rules the world and probably would not see the flaws in her ways of controlling her sons happiness is not the best way to live your life. Card number 3? Oh fck my life, a card representing his and my relationship. Really so we got me and we got we and some influence in the middle. Right on…

Ah well. Second friend, the doubter guy. He says well, you’re an emotional basket case, of course it says what you want to believe. So I challenged him, go ahead. Pull for me then Mr. logical, you have no stake in this case.

Sighs confirmation. Not once, but twice. A little insight on how to handle this native bitch too, not much though. Basically stop trying to prevent the actions, and figure out how to use them against her or work around them.

Great so another impossible task, in another impossible day, in the impossible life of Keteriya. Another weird situation and thing that no one is every going to believe or understand, because it’s all fcking out there. The odds gotta be low. Gotta be real low. I mean how many every day practitioners, ever find themselves unknowingly, in and near the home of a native witch, and then dismiss it as an illogical possibility, as they most likely should, when it does tickle their brain a few times.

Then to get confirmation, from several sources a long the way, as they learn they are being worked against, and hard. To have demons pop in make new associations and new friends that can help and prod you in the ass, exactly where you needed and with information you thought knew, but you couldn’t fcking know.

I know, that at some desperate point, I poured my heart and soul out to the Loa, to my guides, to my ancestors, and to my higher self, that well quite frankly I was done. Shit needed to start happening or I was over it and man that would be shame, cuz I’m doing fcking well with the newbie magics and getting material desires and shifting things around… but you got this challenge in front of me that I can’t seem to tackle so… if shit doesn’t start moving, I swear to god I am never getting out my bed again, once I get moved into my apartment (where I am now) and out of my families home.

Fck me. Wish granted, and wish granted well. I swear to the god, that I don’t believe in, that this is not what I meant. I might have said convince me that this life is real, convince me this path is real, show me magic, and this shit I do works, but god I never expected to see such shit, that I would have no choice. I mean they stripped that choice right the fck away from me and seem to have said fine, you want proof, let us roll you over in a cement truck of it.

And this is how it all relates. I’m not today, who I was yesterday, when I was begging my sweet, precious Luna, to please not leave me.

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I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me…

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This was such an interesting read and such a neat idea. I’m actually inspired now to do something like this for myself. Thank you for the inspiration.

Please accept my sincerest condolences for the loss of Luna.

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:blush: thank you. I’ve fallen a bit off on the train, there’s been a lot going on in life, but it’s interesting you commented, as I was thinking today, that I was going to get back on the train tomorrow-now that I have a new routine somewhat established.

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I’ve thought long and hard about the next memory, that I want to record. I’ve struggled with the fact that is a jump, only about a years worth, but a jump none the less. I wanted to do my best to keep things in order, but when the memory is relevant to my life today and why I am the way I am, I find it impossible to set aside. I finally decided several hours ago to proceed with this memory and why I am adding it into the journal prematurely. I also decided, that I will have to begin, one day soon, copying these into a new scrivener document, and making folders for each year of my life, so that I can get them in somewhat chronological order.

The story I am telling here, while it is purely for my benefit alone, would make more sense, at least in the long run, if they were in order. Or maybe they wouldn’t if you look at from the point of view, that I am journaling today and not in the past. I was going to do this when I woke up, but like always, my mind doesn’t shut off when it has something it needs to do, and I found myself going over and over what I wanted to say, so. It’s just easier to get it out of the way, even though I know I will get off target due to it being late for me, and being a rambler.

Today’s memory was brought about due to those I consider friends. I am more than a little pissed at the trio at the moment, and none of them seem to have come to the conclusion that they owe me an apology so, I am doing me and making it clear. Knowing the human mind, it’s likely not actually that clear to anyone outside of my own head, but this is how I operate and the fact that I didn’t just fall of the face of the earth, and that they do have the option of returning to my life, speaks quite a bit about where they rate to me-even if they will never realize it. See, I am really good at burning bridges and never looking back. Usually that is exactly what I do, I make sure there is no way the gully will every be bridged or crossed again. That isn’t the case this time, but it isn’t relevant either, other than the fact this led directly to the contemplation, and the memory at hand today.

See, even though I consider them friends, even though I’ve shared many details with them about my life and situation, things that only a one other person knows, things that I don’t share with just anyone, they doubt me. Or at least one of the trio does and has said it often. In fact he’s compared me to a ridiculous person, that we all know makes frequent ridiculous claims- all the while we can FEEL that he is for the most part, a fraud- an attention seeker. This is because of the two week intensive I did in August. Apparently my claims are ridiculous, undo able and goodness only knows what else.

Well. No shit Sherlock.

Why the fck do you think, I refused to elaborate on my work, despite the fact we always discuss my work. I knew no one would believe what I was doing, I knew no one in their right fcking mind, would even attempt to do, what I did. It was bat shit crazy, it put me at high risk for getting lost, and I knew it. As such I used the long distance call method during that intensive and while I did have some amazing experiences, that for the most part, I kept to myself; I also knew- this wasn’t a test. I went from having no idea what I needed to do for weeks, to bam, within a ten minute time frame, I had the frame work for a crazy, intense, two week set of rituals. I spent an average of 4.5 hours per day in ritual.

As such, there where things I did different than what is considered normal operations. For example, I daily called upon 13 angels from Damon Brand’s 72 Angels of Magick. I used his main ritual, but reworded the last few lines, to *connect me to the great angels of the universe, rather than naming a specific angel. I used this as an opening ritual, proceeded through each of the 13, then closed as written, but for all 13 at once. See, the rituals the exact same, Raziel was already present and to recall an angel that is right here- simply seemed redundant, as well as a waste of time. Apparently this means I just have to reinvent the wheel, when really I was just being smarter than the average bear in my opinion, not that completing thirteen rituals for 11 days, instead of 1 for 11 days is smart. But if you’re dumb enough to do 13 rituals instead of 1, you might as well be smart about how the fck you do it imop.

I am a rambler and quite frankly I don’t really care, in many ways the rambling is relevant- even if only to me. To get back to the point, I don’t share when I do shit like this, cuz I know exactly how stupid and bat shit crazy it sounds. That was the most intense experience I’ve put myself through, probably the most worthwhile and likely the most successful set of workings I’ve ever done, stupid and crazy or not so the world can go fck themselves, I’m not talking about it with the average person, I clearly learned the age of 3, that the world doesn’t see the shit I do, and I know better than to bring it up.
Usually. Once in a while I trust someone, enough that I think I can discuss the experiences I have had. Thank goodness this is the only major one I shared, and while it was the biggest and longest duration, as well as the only time I’ve done rituals that had to be repeated at all, it’s not uncommon for me to prefer major works over minor. I don’t want to go into ritual, unless it’s going to be a big ordeal. As such I often go through funks, where I do no magic at all- either I am struggling to stay grounded, or it’s not challenging enough.

Ah there it is. Did you catch it? That’s the point of today’s entry. It’s not challenging enough. Every other time I’ve amended rituals, it’s either been because I had too, or because it was clear that things were added to put the magician into the correct mindset, or even to throw them off the right track. I like to think I have a knack for discerning these things, clearly my dumb fuck friend doesn’t agree, but that’s okay- he’s not me.

So anyways. The point is, I recently started a new routine. It’s a big one and I like it a lot. It’s not nearly as intense by any means, as the works I did in August. It is however, bat shit crazy and stupid to do.
But only for everyone not me. See I got problems man. I can’t do anything easy, like ever. When I was a working woman, I was always the employ, that could do every position in the building. I was always the one offered more money to stay when I left, the one who climbed the ladder faster than the rest. I valued work ethics and well, to be a little vain, there’s been few things in life, that IF I put my mind to it, I couldn’t learn. Grammar is unfortunately one of those few things, astounds me, but that’s a story for another day. I play mindless phone games, but usually only ones that either have goals, quests or keep high scores. My favorite at the moment is a merge block game, similar to Tetris but instead of funny shapes you’re merging numbers. The trouble is, I’m not happy with just doing well. I’ve got to beat my own score every damned time I open it. I’ve got to make it harder, by intentionally dropping blocks random patterns that will be hard to clear, I…hobble myself, in almost everything I do.

I keep getting off track but it’s still part of the relevancy so, go somewhere else if you don’t like it. Plenty of dumb fck threads, that are just as crazy, shorter and more interesting anyways. Don’t stay here for my sake- I got this.

Point is I need to be challenged. Once again I had no idea where I was going magically. I’ve done a lot for someone who has technically only practiced for two years this month. Now it’s been pointed out, that a lot of the skills I use in my magic, have been with me my entire life, but. I didn’t know what they fck they were, or how to best use them and many things. They were there, to a lesser extent I had explored them, but not like I have the last two years. I’ve covered a lot of ground, I’ve garnered a lot of results, honestly. Once again I am pretty proud of me, despite the fact that I continuously take a month off at a time. See, some of it is laziness, some of it is lack of challenge, some it is I sometimes struggle to stay grounded, but a lot of it? A lot of it is quite simply the brain needs time to process. A lot of shit has happened since August. Unbelievable fcking shit.

I can’t just keep going, when I need to process what’s happened, what’s been learned, how does it apply. See, some of it seems random at first glance, but. Most of the time if a spirit or being draws attention to something, they have a reason-even if you can’t see it today. They aren’t pointing shit out just cuz they can, they given me a puzzle piece, and now I have to see how it fits, or applies. Why do I need to know about past lives and my relation to certain gods etc. I’m not working with those things, I’m not interested… I made that clear more than a few times. So, the information’s been shoved down my throat and well. Gosh there must be a reason right? Yeah there is. That’s not for me to share today, and likely not every aside from sharing with the boyfriend.

God it was good to share again, to converse with someone that knew me, 100%. Someone who knew my experiences, someone who’s witnessed some of the crazy shit I’ve done, and someone who knew I had some of these questions, months and years before the answers came. It’s good to have him back, I missed that a lot.

I’ve not really spoken to him about the new routine, and likely won’t until something interesting comes from it. He is always willing to discuss whatever I like, but right now, it’s mostly just a routine, he’s familiar with how I operate and so there isn’t actually anything to discuss to date.
But, that brings us back to the question. Why the fck are we here journaling today. Right, I forgot again. It’s because I have this innate need to be challenged, my friend has thrown it in my face, and not in a nice chummy way and I had to ask myself. Why do I do this? Why do I make everything harder. Why do I need to earn it to feel like I succeeded?

The answer is I don’t know. I have no fcking idea why I hobble myself, be it mundane or spiritual.
BUT. I do know I’ve done it almost my entire life. That is why we are here today- there is a memory of my childhood, after all.

I was about six years old, I believe it was during the summertime. I remember going to kindergarten previously, but not being in school at this time. My mother had taken me to the skating rink, Skate World, for a birthday party. I’d never skated in my life, and while she walked along side me and tried to help, it was a dismal failure.

My mother eventually abandoned me to socialize with the other mothers. That left me hanging on to the railing, in the dim rink, while I watched the more experienced children and skaters blow by me. I watched an older man, maybe 40’s, who was wearing a black t-shirt, skate with what I assumed was his wife. They did amazing moves, turning backwards, spinning around real fast, dropping real low, you know the drill. But I was close enough to the left entrance of the rink, to be able to hear my mothers conversation from the orange booth nearby. I didn’t recognize the voice of the coupe she was conversing with, but I did comprehend the words. I don’t remember them exactly but the gist of the story was, I’d never skated before and while it was kinda sad watching me cling to the railing and stumbling over my own feet, I wasn’t ever going to get it. I was too old, I’d never been skating, I wouldn’t ever be skating unless there was a party and well, this time it wasn’t going to happen and it just likely never would.

I must have known the words FCK THAT, at the age of six. I don’t remember making the decision, I just remember doing. I don’t remember thinking about it, I don’t remember taking time to think about it or anything. I just knew, I was going to show those assholes, that they may be adults, but they had no idea what they were talking about.
I let go of the railing, took a deep breath and off I went. Left, right, left. I’m sure it was hilarious due to the lack of fluidity and experience but by the time I’d been around three times, I heard someone say wow, look at her go, she’s doing better the most of the other kids. HAH. Take that mother fckers, I win again.

I never put another pair of roller skates on my feet, but not because I couldn’t learn to roller skate. It was because roller blades, were the popular meta of my generation and well, I became a pretty amazing roller bladder a few years later, rarely missing a weekend at the rink, all night skates, however were my favorite.

So now that I’ve gotten to the point, I guess I feel I teased you enough on the details of my new routine that I might as well blow the stack and fill you in so that I can wrap this bat shit craziness up, and pretend this post never happened. We aren’t going to discuss it, idc how crazy or stupid or unbelievable, or no one could do that, that you think it is. Take it else where, gossip about it, idc what you do with it, other than I don’t want to hear it.

It’s actually funny to a lesser extent. See that dumb fck friend has been contemplating full immersion into the angelic current for what seems like months. I don’t even know if he ever made another move on it. I have always considered angels to be on the lesser side of my skills and as such, other than the intensive in August, have rarely worked with them, till now. He wanted all in, and turns out its me that’s pretty much going all in. I didn’t plan it tbh, I don’t know where this one came from, I have an idea based on who I was working with right before the full plan unfolded, but well that’s for me to know you to wonder about for life. Hehe. At any rate, I’ve purchased or downloaded through Kindle Unlimited, several books on angels. I have no fcking idea why, I just keep coming across the same books and finding myself incredibly interested in working through them.

But gosh, it’s not very challenging to work through one book at at time, at a really slow pace.

It’s just not.

I am doing it similarly to the intensive in August, in that I have one group of workings that will take longer than rest, I also have my kids now two days a week. There is only two books in the group that require doing a ritual more than once. So the longer of the two set my time duration. 7 weeks. See, Damon Brand’s Success magic, talks all about how you should do each ritual for 7 days. He says you can interpret that as 3 times a week over 7 days, or once a day over 7 days or whatever you want, so long as you cover 7 days. I don’t like to skip days, so once a day for 7 days is exactly what I am doing. But I am not doing one ritual at a time. See, I am doing 7 rituals, each once per day for 7 days, then I go on to the next set of rituals. I am otherwise following his directions exactly and while I’ve been accused of reinventing the wheel, my buddy doing these adds things to them-despite the fact that Damon Brand discourages that, even goes so far as to make it sound like doing that is a waste of time or might hinder the workings. So fck your wheel, you can have it, I like mine better anyways.

This is actually my favorite magic out of the entire routine so far. I am only on day four, these rituals are not really that long, I did pre-write out the sounding of the angels names and the words you need to say, to make it easier than flipping pages and so that I could devote my eyes to the sigils as I contemplate the foundation lesson of each. This magic feels amazing. By the time I get to saying the words and the angelic names or whatever is listed to say allowed, I feel like my entire body is vibrating. I feel good, I feel amazing, and boy I just might vibrate out of my freaking body lmao. I can’t even explain, how it feels when I do the motion, giving the gain of the ritual to all of humanity. Doesn’t even matter that I know no one but me will be effected, it feels great, like on Christmas, when I got nothing, but I get to watch someone I love open what I got for them, and how happy they are because, I get gifts that say I know you, I know what you are about.

Anyways moving on. If that sounded bat shit crazy you are going to love the rest of it. Jump forward to after I’ve spent 41 minutes in rituals, taken a piss break and had a cigarette. Now you find that I have becomes obsessed with the two Raziel’s pathworking’s books. Not obsessed, but for someone who can’t make pictures in their minds, gosh I love these pathworking’s. I already knew, that I was going to be working on this project for at least 49 days, but I have my kids two days a week. For sake of being sure I am able to complete the Success Magic rituals everyday, I have removed 14 days to cover when I have my kids. I’ve then added up the number of angels in both weeks and divided that by 35. This means I am doing pathworking’s for 5 angels per day, excluding Raziel. I hand wrote out the ritual, I follow it exactly, I pre-choose one request, basically almost exactly as their abilities are written in the book and then I begin. I do Raziel’s, the angels, then what do you know, you go back to the begging to end it… gosh that makes it real easy to smoothly move into the next angel.

I know I don’t spend long on the images. I can’t, I mean I can’t fcking see them. But, I can feel them. It only takes me about 2 minutes to go through the set of four. Funny story I can’t see them, but I am on day four and the last two days, I’ve gotten impressions of them. When I say impressions, it’s like if I were looking at the horizon, as far away as I can see; like a memory, just barely an outline of what’s there. But gosh, I spent over 2 years, doing exercises for those with anphantasia and still don’t even get after images, so how the fck am I getting impressions of these pathworking’s, and why do I get more details in each image, every time I do them?

Har-har. Maybe the point of this is to un-hobble my damned self. I have other points, but that most surely was the clearest when this plan was broached to me. It won’t complete the process, but if I understand, it’s going to jump start it. So from here we move on to Tristan Whitespire’s 84 genies. Interesting enough while they aren’t Djinn, I’ve worked with almost half of these, thinking they were Djinn, over the last year. I’m dong the same thing as above, following the ritual exactly, summoning and then making my pre-selected request, and going back through the ritual all over again. It isn’t a long and complicated process, it doesn’t even require fully opening the sigils given, but they do that anyways and to cover 35 days, I only need to do three a day. The entire process takes less than half an hour.

Then I move on the to 7 Occult Money Rituals by Henry Archer. All in all, not counting the first and last ritual, you need at least 16 days to cover these. I won’t be doing the last ritual as it is for gambling and the first ritual I did complete in a single day, so my log shows 4/17. Time duration is clearly going to vary as the rituals change dramatically, but with only 17 days needed, other than the one long 11 day ritual, I won’t be doing these on days I have the children.

So that’s the bat shit crazy routine and well, for me it’s amazing. I look forward to it each day since the first already and clearly I am going to have the Oomph to keep to it, as I did with the intensive in August. I am even proud of myself, as the intensive in August took me 4.5 tries to get going, but this one I only needed one good go and I was off. I know 4/49 doesn’t sound like much, but I already know I will do it. I also know I’ve got only about 2.5-3 hours of magic per day in this. That’s great, I won’t be rushed for time, I won’t have to worry about the side projects or any of that, nearly as hard as I did with intensive in August.

End rant.

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I don’t remember many things from the age of 4-5, but I do remember the entrance to my kindergarten school, but I do remember the name, Washington early education center. I was able to find it in google, but the school closed in 2018. It seems to have been replaced by Jefferson early childhood center.

I remember it was my daddy who took me to my first day of school. Unlike the other kids, I didn’t go to headstart or preschool, my mother was primarily a stay at home mom, something my parents argued about often. She wanted to work, he thought she should take care of the babies and well, for now she was at home. I only went to half day kindergarten, because at the time, it still wasn’t considered necessary and the children who were in all day programs, actually had to pay for that- it was almost entirely children whose parents both worked full time jobs. My daddy rarely would take me to school or pick me up but I remember he did both my kindergarten year and first grade year.

My daddy worked for Boeing, or Rockwell, prior to Boeing buying them out. I remember him telling me many times through my childhood, about how hard work paid off. He started at Rockwell, many years prior- making only .23cent per hour. For many years he was a machinist, but by the time a heart attack, major open heart surgery and agent orange cancer forced him to retire when I was 15 years old, he had been with Rockwell/Boeing for 27 years, had a base wage of $22 an hour and was the head plant inspector. My daddy took pride in a job well down, and was proud of himself and what he did. He had many faults, but there were many years of life that my dad chose to work 6 and 7 day weeks, because Saturday was time and a half and Sunday was double time. In today’s world, over 15 years since my dad’s dead and 19 years since his retirement, $22 an hour is still a damned good wage for the average person, but looking back, I don’t think I even comprehended, how well my dad was doing for the time.

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My daddy had our drive torn up, and replaced with a small pebbled circle drive, to make back out of our two car garage easier. Every home we owned, except the house my parents lived in on Frink Chambers when I was born, and the house at Green Meadows, always got a new circle drive. I guess my daddy knew what he liked. I remember watching the men work on the driveway from the front entryway. I was fascinated with the rebar and how they used the boards to form the shape, before pouring the mixture. Daddy also had our grass completely replaced, and I remember the big round rolls of new soil and turf being laid out. He had a particular type of grass he preferred in the yard, blue grass. I would lay in the grass next to him, while he would very careful hand dig out any crab grass that sprouted. I wanted to help, but at the time I couldn’t always be sure I was able to pick out the crab grass, so I watch him for hours before I did help. It was rather boring, but it pleased my daddy, that I was by his side, interested in his personal project.

I had a red tricycle when we lived at the house on Green Meadows, but I received a white and pink bicycle for my 5th birthday, while we were at the house on Cardinal Lane. I remember watching my daddy put it together, it came in a box, and wasn’t assembled like most bicycles you buy today. Of course my new bicycle had training wheels, but it wasn’t long before I was having fits to have them taken off, I was certain I didn’t need them.

My daddy always liked grilled steak, better than most any other meal. I was out riding my bicycle, or trying to ride it, without training wheels, and large chunk of medium rare steak in was in my left hand. I was snacking as I road, until I once again fell off. I was not too big of wimp, except this time, I hit the ground and knocked out my loose tooth. I bled a little, but I wasn’t upset that I was hurt or bleeding, I was upset the tooth was lost. The drive was tiny little pebbles, and there as no way that my daddy nor I could find it. I searched for what seemed like hours, I understood I was going to be given $5 anyways, and while I didn’t understand that was a lot of money for a tooth for 1990, I was obsessed with needing the tooth. I didn’t wasn’t raised to believe in Santa Clause, or the Easter bunny or the tooth fairy or any of that. I reaped all of the rewards of such fictional characters all the while always knowing they were exactly that, fictional characters that gave me neat traditions and presents.

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A serious of extremely odd coincidences has lead to me finally understand, at least in part what it is I fear. I still don’t remember what I saw that scared me as a child, but now I know why I never look in mirrors, or black reflective surfaces, especially after dark has fallen outside. Now I understand what was watching me, as well as a being I’ve encountered many times over the years, that literally terrified me, had me hiding under the covers or walking around the house, turning on every light, double check the door was locked and that every window as sealed tight.

The trouble is I don’t know what to do with it. I picked up a grimoire last night randomly, on a whim, that I had no desire to work through, but do to a recent reading- piqued my curiosity about the beings I might find inside. Something similar guards my circle, myself and my magic and as such, I was hoping to find him in this grimoire. I did not alas I did find many things that astounded me.

Six months ago to the day, with the aid of my boyfriend, I finished creating a magical weapon, then charged it under the moonlight. I know the date I finished it, because I took pictures. The stone on top, I painted black. Curiously enough while it was just a rock, it’s a rock related to one of the types of stones that you are advised to choose from and use. It’s roughly the right shape and size even, so even though I epoxied it to the top of the staff, and then tied leather around it, creating a medieval type staff, I find it curious.

I got the message loud and clear, I read about the association with Azazel and suddenly it wasn’t so far fetched why these beings are in the background. The grimoire makes it pretty clear these are not for beginners, certain tools and procedures should be followed and only those worthy won’t be devoured. At one point or another over the last year I felt spurned to create and craft pretty much all of these tools, always telling the boyfriend I had no idea why I needed them, just that I would know when it was time.

Now that I know, I have none of them with me. I’m not really sure I want to dive into this current anyways. Things are going good. My magic is on track, things are looking up, my little side work is taking off and I am keeping myself busy earning money, being a mom and preparing the way for the future. Why would I risk everything now.

I feel like, in the end it isn’t as much of a choice as I’d like it to be, if I refuse to jump on the train now, it’s only going to keep circling back, demanding my attention and goodness knows when I deny things I should do, usually something way worse than any possible bad outcome happens. While the cards say take my time to decided, there’s a few weeks left before I have to, I already know what the answer will be. The only problem is now I can’t get the tools. I can’t create the elements I had ready to go. Even If I order in what I need for it, none of the operation can be done as far as charging them or any of that.

To jump in, I’d be breaking most of the rules that are outlined, I’d be doing it my way again, taking what I feel is needed and running with the rest. I’ve never had issues or even worried about operating this way, yet I pause here. Wondering if it can be done when I can’t get the things I need either due to financials or where I live. Do I care?

One might think this means the purview of this journal is now complete, I’ve got the answers I sought.

But I haven’t. I still don’t remember seeing these beings or what they did that scared me as a child, only that they did. Questions remain, and if I dive into this current, well the past is exactly what I would be dealing with, going forward. Being as such, and that I want to continue this project-I know there are other things I need to work through from my past, much like did today during my sleep and dream time with this thing, I can only say this journal is not complete as of yet, and onward we will tread.

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As I feel asleep, my consciousness shifted. I had been trying to project again, while I did not, I shifted to a point of view that I recognized. I was not in control of it, though I recognize it from it memories, it is a passive point of view. I was in the top right corner of the room, watching my body as I fell into a deep dreaming sleep. Within minutes I was watching my self sleep and viewing my dreams at the same time. Suddenly it made sense, how the point of view of my dreams is often outside of my body, yet I am inside my body actively as I dream. It sounds rather strange, but I’ve often wondered I had two views of every scene within my dreamscape.

I was in the bathroom, which is behind where I my head rests as I sleep. I could hear my landlord and his wife, downstairs arguing in real time, while I was dreaming. The wife was yelling at my landlord, quite literally having an emotional rage fit-and it was my fault. I’d not left my apartment since 6am, I haven’t seen either since last yet, somehow I told her a secret, that he told me last night and asked me to keep between us. As I came into this realization, and wondered how the fck I managed to share a secret without leaving my home, my perception shifted to inside my dream body. There was a woman clinging to my body, and having a pout filled fit. Their arms were wrapped tightly around my waist and their legs were wrapped around my right leg, almost like a toddler trying to get their parents attention, during a temper tantrum. I looked down, to the right and into… my eyes. I was looking at an exact replica of myself, just as I am today. As soon as I made eye contact, I knew who it was. I recognized the Shadow Woman behind my eyes. We have met before, after all.

I wasn’t angry, but I was very displeased. I had not yet decided if I was going to work with this current at this time. Despite knowing that one of them is in my circle, guarding me and my magic from the moment I broke free of the curses, I clearly had concerns. I looked directly into her eyes and realized that this was a test of my operatorship as well as a lesson. I was going to need to be crystal clear, and so I was. I informed her that she could drop the act, that she shouldn’t have acted without my permission or direction and that it would not fly with me going forward. I would not be walked on and my life would not be turned upside down, or I would walk. It’s been clear that it is in my best interest to work with this current, but that does mean that I have to, and it was going to be my rules, or it simply wouldn’t be. I will garner the major result I am still waiting on, with or without them- of that the cards have been clear. The path is supposed to be easier with them, but being me I doubted it, based on what I’ve read. I may have failed to follow through and pass this test in the past, but I would not today, nor would I going forward.

I woke then, and recounted the experience to a very baffled boyfriend. He wondered how I attracted their attention and well, between reading about them and studying their sigils and energy signatures a few nights ago, to the fact that Ranzael, has haunted my dreams for years, Azazel has followed me around, really I don’t personally wonder how I attracted her attention. I was surprised that my decision was assumed, and while I had somewhat decided, I still had time to change my mind and thusly hadn’t moved on it. I was worried that I may suffer again, if I proceeded and quite frankly, I am done with that. I knew if I did not work with them now, that they would keep coming back until I did, as they have for many years. This is the first time I’ve not found myself filled with so much terror, that I could not even face them. This is the first time I’ve stood for myself.

The coincidences and message are clear. I will need to be firm and crystal clear with them, I will need to be the operator, but many of these lessons I have already faced-the difference is now I am stronger. I will not fail them again and allow them to act without my permission or at my direction. I can avoid this for now if I wish, but I will continue to fear reflective surfaces, I will continue to see an increase in their activity around me again, scaring me- feeding off me, if I decide to walk away. I feared that as the experience can be rather traumatic, that I wouldn’t be able to handle it, but it is clear that is not case. I was concerned about being scared of their forms and the images, as I recall them from my past.

Tonight Shadow Woman showed me, that they can, as every other type of spirit that I have worked with can, take on a form that does not strike my heart with terror. She showed me, that they can and will enter my circle- they are not the wolves I am supposed to be wary of. I need to be wary as with all spirits, but they do not come just to scare me, they are here to teach me and make me stronger not simply harm me.

Coincidently, two days ago I pulled a quote a card, asking what would the outcome of my most desired result be working with the shadow people compared to the out come if I choose not to work with them at this time, and walk away. This is the quote on the card I pulled:

-When you meet someone better than yourself, turn your thoughts to becoming his equal. When you meet someone not as good as you are, look within and examine yourself.
-Confucius

It isn’t implying that I am a better person than he is, but I am much further along in my path than he is. While we discuss all of these things and many more, and he can even comprehend and explain better than I can, how I am able to do visual magic without being able to visualize, I often am explaining things, what I think and experience. It’s a higher level explanation than I can give anyone else in my life, but it’s clear he’s not at the same spot I am yet, and what a coincidence it is, that this quote tells me to look within myself, when the question was in regards to whether or not I should do this. I don’t need the tools, despite creating them or purchasing them on a random whim, while I was in Washington, all I need is myself.

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I was in my apartment but it was wide instead of long. I became aware of the fact that I was being watched. Even though I rarely leave my apartment, so how “they” had managed to installs cameras, watching my bedroom and I thought probably the rest of my apartment was beyond me,. I was only sure that “they” were watching me, and they wanted my magic journal.

My biological mother was in the dream and sleeping. (She passed away about 6 years ago) It was nighttime and I knew I had to act quickly, if I waited they would find a way to force my hand or kill me. I’m not sure how I knew it or suddenly had knowledge of it all. I’m also not sure what kind of work I was doing for these people, because they had given me a drop box for money. There was technically no way to get the money out, but I already knew they would likely accuse me of stealing so made sure I positioned myself to show I only dropped money. Then I took my journal and a few other things, but I’m not sure what they were. I tried to conceal that I was taking my things out of my room, but I was pretty sure if they had cameras in my bedroom, they might in the living room. I loaded my things up in my purse that had a real long strap and realized instantly I preferred when it was over my head and crossing my back because of the length, making it harder to knock off my shoulder or steal. It was not a purse I actually have, I never carry one, but I recognized it from other dreams. I had already realized that I would be unable to burn such a large journal in an apartment.

I was prepared to go out, when an older man, wearing a long trench coat, showed up and very forcefully told me about how their was money missing. . I knew there wasn’t, I knew I had made two cash drops and he was full shit. I’m not sure how he got in my apartment but I made sure I was clear with my words and did not get upset. I told him I made two cash drops, I knew about the cameras and he could watch them and see I stole nothing and aside from that I didn’t know what to tell him about the lies he was feeding me other than they were lies. He told me he had already watched the cameras and they showed me stealing the money. I knew it wasn’t true then and that they were definitely going to either put me prison, which wasn’t real like since they’d probably get caught altering the videos, or kill me.

So I stated what I already had word for word again and said, “I’m sorry o have an appointment and I am going to be late, we can discuss this as soon as I get back,” and I turned around and calmly walked out. I got to the top of the stairs and at the bottom where the landing and entry way was some box shaped thing that had been set on fire. (it was just like real life) I was not even shocked, I knew then they would have let me die in the fire to get magic book, and if I escaped they would blame the fire on me. Unfortunately it would like take off a few minutes after I exited the building which would make me suspicious but I didn’t pause to consider anything- it was simply fact. I made sure not to touch anything as I stepped around the fire, knowing they could plant evidence on it, but as long as I didn’t touch it, there would be no real evidence as I had nothing to do with it. I’m sure they expected that if I found it, I would put the fire out and then their would be evidence I had touched it and the entire scheme would be blamed on me.

I stepped out the doorway and looked down the road towards Riverside bar and the post office, it was around 4-6 am but still dark out. I saw one person walking up from the railroad tracks, I looked over at the unimart. I’d considered or even planning, walking down to the river and dumping my journal and magical things into the river and hoping it floated away and became so deteriorated that it would be useless, but as I looked around, I knew it I did, I would did. They likely had people or at least one person watching me and who was going to follow me. Instead o took off running towards the left and grammas. As I ran I wondered if I’d get there before they could grab me and if she was not awake, I’d I had to stand there and bang on the door, I’d likely be dead.

I realized as I reached the corner and started up the steep hill right before her house, that gramma and pap both usually got up early but if not likely one of them was awake. Sometimes they sleep in but rarely. As I got near, I saw gramma and pap not sitting on the porch, but at a park style picnic table with an attached bench. I cut across Dan’s yard and knew gramma could see me coming. I worried for less than half a second she’d think I was going to by weed and go inside, but then I was suddenly behind gramma.

I said something to the effect of I didn’t want to interrupt but it was an emergency and I need help. Gramma asked what I meant and I said I know your not going to believe me, but they are trying to kill me. I started to give a brief overview when two woman walked up. One had short black hair, and was about my height and slightly heavier than me. The other I did not get a look at for some reason, but I backed up towards the door, worried that anyone could be working against me. Gramma had somehow moved to her chair by the porch door and I was on the porch. The woman handed my grandmother a small gun in a thick carrying case, similar to John’s plier holder.

Gramma handed me the gun and asked the women, if they had made sure they were not see with it. The lady said she was certain no one knew they owned the gun or saw them bring it. I realized then that gramma had sent a text before I had even explained what was going on, she heard me say they were trying to kill me and sent the message and they came right away. I almost wanted to have the gun where it could be seen, to make myself seen as more dangerous to any of them following me, and realized right away that it was likely stupid as then they would send people with guns.

I wanted a cigarette so went out on the porch but was worried. The gun was a revolver, I was worried because it didn’t have a safety but I didn’t want to leave it in the carrying case and wanted to have it where I could whip it out at any time, but I also didn’t want to accidentally shoot myself. I realized I’d left my laptop and all of my recent journaling and magical notes, were on my computer-but for some reason, they only seemed to know about the physical journal, that I used while I was in Washington State.

Something spooked me so we all went inside. I sat on the floor of the living room wondering if it was even safe to be there or sleep. The woman with the short dark hair told me she was going up to bed, all three of us would sleep together and she needed to borrow one of my pillows. I wondered how three of us would fit in a full sized bed comfortably but at the end of the day, it likely didn’t matter. She left and I sat there a minute. I was surprised, that even though I was only three blocks from my apartment, there had yet to be fire truck sirens. I wondered if they put the fire out themselves, either knowing I had not touched it and had just walked by it, or not knowing that I hadn’t touching it, but still hoping to incriminate me. I knew if however, as long as I lived, anything they accused me of would be impossible to prove, unless they planted evidence that it had been me, as I had not done anything.

Suddenly I was back on my couch, looking at my lamp. It was turned on, the lamp shade was not on it, just like it is for real. I realized immediately I was probably in a dream or it was likely a trick of some sort. I wondered how they managed that tried to very quickly roll off the couch. I couldn’t get up. I tried one more time.

Nope I am not doing this game of false wake up. I know how it goes and I will fight to wake up and get out of bed over and over, five, ten sometimes even twenty times and half the time there is someone standing over me, and it always terrifies me and then I fight even harder. (I believe most often Razanel the shadow person, wearing a long hooded cloak/robe) I wasn’t going to play this game, so I just laid back and closed my eyes. I should banish, but other than my own energy hard to do in the moment. My nightmares and a few things, like shadow people, are well know for not being banish-able. You don’t get rid of them, you can integrate the archetypes and kill them, but banish? Not as far as current or past documentation I’ve crossed. Not as far any shielding I’ve attempted or protection I’ve used.

If I couldn’t banish, I knew I should summon an entity that could protect me. My first thought was angels, then thought about the spirits I work closely with. The decision and all of that thinking was more like instant knowledge than thinking. There was no point in calling on something if I wasn’t fairly sure it would come or help was another thought I had during this false awakening dream state. I found myself calling out to Azazel, I called his name three times in my mind.

I did not feel the shift towards awake. Nothing changed except I opened my eyes again after calling Azazel’s name three times, and took a minute, wondering if I was truly awake or if it was the same trick. I clamped my eyes shut and focused, trying to remember the things that I know I can use to distinguish the real world, from the dreamscape. My bedroom was dark and the door into it was open. I was still spooked but not feeling terror. Throughout the entire experience, I never once felt terror like I have in the past.

I laid there a minute, reaching out with all of my sense and wondering what time it was. The lamp that was on directly In My sight and the everything I could see, was just as it had been in the two false awakenings. Atropos jumped up to snuggle me then, and the warmth of her body and solid feel of her feet, spoke to me, she was real and not a dream. Sometimes dreams have physical feels just like this, but with people, food and things, I’ve never had a pet feel so real that I wasn’t sure if they were a dream or real. I got up and shut the bedroom door, despite knowing it would make it warmer on my apartment. I checked the clock and it was only 8 am.

I had already gotten up three times to pee, and at 5:30 I still wasn’t sure if I had slept at all yet, I thought remembered being awake the entire time I laid here but when you trance for a few hours, it can be difficult to tell because hours pass line minutes and it doesn’t feel real, though you don’t have the waking up experience. It just feels like a few minutes past and you didn’t accomplish whatever you were trying to do.

I was surprised, that this second encounter happened, so swiftly after the first. I wasn’t aware that this was going to be a quick process, but either way- I believe I handled it well. I never reached a state of fear or terror, despite being uncomfortable and knowing that I would normally be scared, and unable to react or take control of the situation. While I’ve never been one to play the blame game, and always think we should own up to our wrongs, when we can- because we are all human and all have them, there has been more than a few times I’ve played scapegoat for someone else, or been blamed for something I did not do or even think of doing.

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I was in my ex-husbands house. For some reason he was not being his normal self to me. In my waking life yesterday I noted that he wouldn’t address me in court, and still nearly three months later the man will not even look at me when he picks up our children-He makes a point of parking where he will never look me in the face, and always has his face buried, quite obviously in his phone, until he believes I can no longer see. I realized as I walked up the stairs back to my apartment, after delivering the children to his vehicle, that he’s still butt-hurt, that I am not longer his. That to see me doing well and thriving without him, likely even pains him and reminds him of his loss, despite the fact that it was his own doing.

At any rate, I dreamed that I was in his home, but it wasn’t his current home. I’m actually not sure where it was, but he was babysitting several creatures for a female friend. I was curious, as I love animals and then I saw the big black snake. I immediately thought of @DarkestKnight 's encounter a few months ago with Damballah. I’m a little scared of snakes, so even though I knew what was about to happen, I was not thrilled that he quite literally dropped this snack around me, and told me to go let it outside for a time to get fresh air. I hurried towards the door, and through the garage, that now reminded me of my childhood home on Green Meadows, not even connecting that he’s so deathly afraid of snakes, that irl this summer, he had my son kill several of them, because he couldn’t. As I am quickly walking this snake is hissing and scaring me. But it’s not a normal snake sound, it is quite literally words. The snake keeps saying “Please stop touching me.” I get just outside the garage and I don’t want to just drop it on the concrete, afraid to hurt or anger it, but it lounges at the skin under my chin and bites me- forcing me to literally drop it on the concrete. As we neared the destination, the snake was no longer black, it was tan with diamonds.

I return inside, the bite not really hurting, but seeping a yellow, yet clear colored substance, that makes me immediately think of venom. I ask the ex-husband, if it was a poisonous snake, and even though I was most certain it was not, the ex-husband did not answer that question. Instead he talked about how the woman who owned the snake talked to it often and was trying to teach it words in our language. I was like well that’s strange, because the snake kept telling me to “Please put it down, it didn’t like me.” He confirmed that the first part, was indeed something the woman had been teaching the snake to say, and we discussed how I was surprised that I could understand the snake tongue to an extent, because even though it was our words, it was still spoken in snake. It confused me, yet it didn’t as I often am able to share thoughts back and forth with dogs.

I’m not sure how we ended up in the ex-husbands car, unless he was taking me home, but instead we ended up at the mall, walking into a very fancy restaurant. He led us to a table and was talking about how he just wanted a drink. One of the kids was clearly a bit sad, and I knew it was because they wished that there dad and I were still together. I told him to not be so sad, because look, mom keeps saying someday she hopes we can converse friendly, without being close like friends, but for your sake, and it does seem nice that that’s happened doesn’t it? Their dad immediately shifted, clearly put out that this was not going where he wanted it to. He pulled out a revolver and pointed it at me, upset. In the end I was holding the revolver, and instead of unloading it like I’d planned, I noted that it had a weird mechanism and battery system that very slowly engaged as it spun around to load the gun, then the batteries quite literally plugged themselves into the bottom of it. They looked like nothing more than double a batteries. I didn’t like holding it, as it had no safety and while it was putting itself together, it was difficult to determine where you were pointing it, or if you were pointing it at yourself even. I was even pretty sure that while it couldn’t be fired while it was loading itself, it would fire immediately after if the trigger had been pulled during the process.

We were still waiting for a waitress, and while the ex clearly wasn’t going to heed my dislike of this particular gun, and my fear that it was unsafe to have around our children, and particularly his girlfriends baby, he finally revealed we were just at the restaurant because he wanted a drink. I was like “Oh, well I don’t see anything in here, but I know these dream malls pretty well, if you walk out the main door here into the mall, there will be vending options to either the left or the right of the door, do you want me to go and double check though?” He declined and lumbered off towards the direction I had pointed out and me and the kids were left there alone waiting. After some time it became clear he’d left us, so we started searching for the parking lot we had been parked in, to see if he truly had left us, or if he’d just decided to go shopping.

After a while I realized we probably needed a way home, and I saw that there was a bus stop downstairs. The children and I walked down, to find that all the terminals, were covered in water, though it wasn’t deep we were going to get wet. I approached one of the gates and realized I didn’t have tickets, nor did I see where they were sold, so I asked if I could purchase the tickets there. The lady was really a downright jerk, telling me I was clearly dumb, no I could not. I said “Alright, where can I purchase tickets?” Her response was to tell me “In the store.” I took a deep breathe, “Mam, we are in a mall, that I have not bee in, for about 10 years, I’m familiar with public transit, just not this public transit and theres about 122 stores in the mall above me so, could you kindly, indicate which ones I might be able to purchase bus tickets from.” I didn’t get an answer the kids and I walked back up the stairs towards the mall and when we reached a waiting area, they sat down, so we could try to figure things out. I asked them to call dad, and tell him I needed help getting them home, because I was not sure what to do at this point. My son told me, that his dad had replied that I should look up L and L, a taxi service in a nearby town. I was a little annoyed, that he would expect me to be able to pay for a cab, when he dumped us.

A teen-aged girl walked up and sat down in a nearby seat, after swiping one of my bags, that had the Amtrak label. I turned to face her and pretty well told her how rude she was, and it was mine and I didn’t intend to be sitting here while she napped with my blanket. She clutched it tightly and repeated in a baby like pout filled voice about how she would use my blanket to take a nap. I snatched it out of her hands before she could open the pouch and told her exactly what I thought about her behavior. I was then approached by an adult, who explained that there were quite a few of them traveling through and they’d been watching me, impressed with how I handled things. I turned back to my children and asked them to once again please call dad, and ask him to come get us. The daughter got the same response, that my son had. I was quite annoyed but pulled up the app for the taxi company, and immediately noticed it looked like Uber. (Not an app I’ve used, so whether or not it really does look like uber I have no idea.) It was harder to navigate than Uber, and had moving images that quite literally showed where the drivers were in the local area. It was cartoon like images but they were still three dimensional. I didn’t like it at all, and if it wasn’t a legitimate taxi service, and it was all random for hire locals, I wasn’t sure that Uber wouldn’t be just as safe, and maybe even cheaper.

Somehow we ended up in the back of a taxi. There were two men sitting up front and one was in the back with us, I sat next to him, trying to figure out how I would get us from the place where they would drop us off to the ex-husbands. My apartment was within walking distance of the drop off, but the kids home was not. I finally realized I was quite literally taking all of the space from this guy and pressing him into the door of the taxi. I apologized and asked if I could pay them extra, to take me off the route and about 2 miles up the mountain. The one took a $5 and tossed it in the glove box, assuming that was roughly what I would pay extra and so that was theirs. The told me they used to do stuff like that, so no big deal. They pulled up near my apartment, and had us all get out. I told them this wasn’t the location and that it was up the mountain, but it wasn’t far, the first left and I was willing to pay. They said we’d have to walk then, and I was upset because if I could walk up the mountain with my asthma, I would have done that instead of agreeing to pay extra.

Suddenly I couldn’t find my kids, and I was alone. I walked up and down the street, looking and finally found the daughter, but she had no idea where her brother was. I heard a bunch of kids playing up a set of a stairs and opened the door and took a look inside. They were all younger than my son, but they were swinging across a big open hole, that seemed to go on endlessly. I had fits, at how unsafe it was and someone could die, scared that my son had fallen in and no one had noticed. I went back outside and found the taxi guys, well two of them. I made it clear that we had an agreement, and gosh they better help me figure out where my son was, before they found themselves implicated in kidnapping. I realized when I got into the taxi, that all of my things were gone. I wondered, why the hell I didn’t take my purse with me, that was just dumb, and the third taxi guy was missing… Then I was standing in a park like area, and the daughter was sitting on a bench, and the son showed up. He was all proud of himself and what he had been doing, though he apologized, he began talking about sexual acts and it feeling good and I was… angry, that he had worried me for a freaking girl.

I woke up, but soon fell back asleep, and was in the same area. I still had my kids, but I was no longer trying to get them home, and the town was still not laid out anything like it is. We were at a house and with a group of people. I’m not sure what was going on but there was essentially a bad group of people going around killing others. There was a man leading them, and I knew who it was. I ended up facing him several times, and while I wasn’t scared, I knew he would quite literally murder anyone in his path. I conversed with others and we finally decided we had to get in our cars and leave. I got my kids in an SUV, that had the keys in it and followed a lady, around a circle drive and then a back road, that would lead us into town, that was supposedly a secret way. I recognized the street we were merging onto then, despite it being significantly different from how it really is.

I wondered how we had ended up 20 miles away in such a short drive, but then it was my turn to merge. I merged too wide and was in a McDonald’s lane, instead of the road. I was going back towards the road since it was clear, when I realized I was hungry. I asked the kids if they were, and told them I was going to get a chocolate milkshake, something I never do, but asked if they wanted one as well. The daughter told me she only wanted French fries, so I went through a list of things, making sure she really didn’t want any of them and she added chicken nuggets to it. The son only wanted French fries, even after I went through the list to double check. I ordered our food and then we were standing there waiting at the window, instead of in the car. She handed me the milkshake and a few things, but we had to wait on the rest. The scene shifted so that we were inside, but it was still a take out style window. The young woman behind the counter was cleaning things and said something about she’d check the food, as she prefers to cook it till she knows it’s good, and not follow the timer. She did call out that the timer still had 3 minutes and 58 seconds to go. I saw a bag of food sitting on the back of a couch nearby, behind the counter. I knew it was probably ours, and that the lady had forgotten since, we had only received my milkshake.

The counter was then littered with trash and I saw a strawberry milkshake, that had been untouched, but forgotten. I asked if either kid wanted it and the daughter was like “really mom, you’re going to take random food, when you don’t know who touched it or what germs might be on it…” I explained that I could tell it hadn’t been touched and braced myself for her to ask me how I knew, as explaining that I could feel there was no one’s energy on it, was probably not going to go well. Instead I realized I was back in the little community area, where the killer was on the loose. But I was on our side of the house, and not the bad guys. I had Styrofoam containers of food for the bad guys, which I took to the fridge, which was right next to the door, that led into their half of the house. I put the food in, knowing when they saw it, they would know we were here. I didn’t want them to be hungry, but knew as soon as I did this, we had to get back in the car and actually leave.

I slammed the fridge shut. Wtf I didn’t mean to do that, but it was like something took hold of my arm and I quite literally slammed the fridge door as hard as I could. I opened it again, to put in the last of the food… hoping that they weren’t here, to hear the door slam. I slammed it again and the door to the other side opened. The lead murder was coming at me and followed by two others. I ran out and yelled to my kids, and the few remaining people around to run. I’d made the same mistake the first person had earlier, which had drawn their attention to us, and now there was no avoiding them. I tried to make it to the car, but knew as soon as I saw it, even if I got in and locked the doors fast, I didn’t have a chance of escaping. I told the kids to run and hide. I was then standing next to the murderous guy, looking at a rack of tools, and trying to find some sort of blade to kill him with. He was literally right next to me. My son pointed out a small blade, but for some reason I picked up the first one that had caught my eye instead, despite it being smaller than the one my son pointed out. It looked like a blade for a skill saw. I turned and stabbed the man. He was still coming after me though, and chased me.

The man never actually hurt me, though he tried. We went in circles, with me stabbing him, certain with my medical knowledge I had hit his heart with the first stab, but somehow, instead of dying he kept coming after me. I knew that if he caught me, I knew I would die. So I kept stabbing. Finally I had blood spurt all over me and my hands were slick with it, and the blade was as well. He went into some sort of berserk mode though, and instead of become weaker, he was suddenly stronger, and the pain from the wounds I had inflicted, no longer affected him at all. He didn’t feel it. I knew he was even more dangerous than before, and ended up tackling him, and somehow brining him to the ground.

Naturally he was taunting me the entire time. There was a revolver nearby and he picked it up and made a taunting claim about how he could just me with it. I snatched it and put it out of his reach. Suddenly, I was on top of a woman, and not a man. I held onto his hands and tried to figure out where to stab this guy to kill him. I was certain I’d hit his heart several times, I felt like I was looking at his true form, that of a woman, despite the fact in my mind it was still pretty much a guy to me. It never crossed my mind to try to shoot him, but it did cross my mind to keep everything dangerous out of his reach. Now that he was a woman, wearing nothing more than a very thin see-through white nightgown, I even tried stabbing him in his girly parts. I was worried that when the police came they were going to think I was a vicious murderer, that just kept on stabbing out of anger or hate or rage, but I knew the truth was, as long as this man lived, people were going to die.

The man smiled and told me how it turned him on when I stabbed him down there. In my mind I was thinking about how perverse that was, though I wondered if he meant it or was just trying to goad me. I finally realized there was only way to get rid of this man. I had to slit his throat. The idea was appalling, but I’d already stabbed his stomach and his vital organs and yet he lived and if I wasn’t holding him down, he’d still be killing. I made the decision and moved my blade to do so, wondering if I had the strength, would I be able to do what I had to do, or would I just die like the rest. The man seemed to know what I was about to do, and for a minute, he tucked his chin to try to prevent it. I held the blade to his neck and looked him in the eye.

I knew then, he wanted to die. He was fighting, but he was letting me win. I had no idea why, but I sawed, somewhat gently at this throat, knowing once I hit the jugular, it would be over soon. At first it seemed like I was just sawing into skin, and despite the fact I was killing the man, I didn’t want it to be anymore painful than it had to be. I pressed a little harder and finally saw blood seeping out of the wound I had made. He told me he could feel it then, I had done it and the life force was seeping out of him. I knew this to be true, but still held him down to be sure he wouldn’t try for one final blow. The blood didn’t spurt, like it normally does with a wound to an artery- spurting with each heart beat. Instead, it just seeped and I held the mans hands, much more tenderly. I knew he would be gone soon, but it struck me, that he and I were not really that different.

I told him about how we were kinda like best friends. He seemed puzzled and I said think about it. We are completely opposite, yet we’ve been in this fight against each other all along. We knew each other so well, that we could have been the best of friends. He told me that he would live on within me, and give me power. I kept seeing a beautiful blond girl’s face in front of me, instead of the man dying in a woman’s body below me. He told me that I was right we could have been best friends, except for one thing. I remember him telling me that one thing, and it was a surprising thing, as it was something I’ve done on occasion, but not often and I don’t think he understood the reasons when I had done it. I just maintained that well, we are all human while we are here, aren’t we? I knew then that he was gone, and I woke up, unable to remember what that one thing was.

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This entry is a mixture of a working from last week, I don’t recall which date, as I only jotted down brief notes for recall purposes, and todays early morning working. Most of the time, when I go into ritual, I know exactly what to expect, what I am going to be doing, who I am calling upon and what purpose I am going to fulfill. Other times, the purpose may clear, but the mechanics are not. Even more rare, is the ritual that I have no idea who it is I am going into the ritual space to call upon, or what it is I am going to be doing. This cumulative entry was the product of exactly that. I knew what I wanted, I thought I knew what I needed, but I had no idea what I needed to do, or exactly who it was I was about to call upon, for either working. I simply knew it was time.

Things finally came to a head. I was emotional and I realized it was time. It was time to put this ridiculous fear behind me and face what I’ve been avoiding most of my life. First I called to the familiar that Azazel gave me, and asked for their protection and aid as I was about to proceed. I then called out to Azazel. From Azazel I moved on to Belial. As Belial entered my space, it became clear that I next I was to summon the demon, who I credit with the life I now live. The one who secured complete and total removal of a toxic relationship for me, who threw me through the wringer, and turned my life upside down, in order to right it. As I moved to call upon Abaddon, Belial indicated he was already here. Being the difficult one I am, I told him that was fine, but I needed to go through the motions anyways, I’m human after all. He chuckled at me and told me that they expected no less from me, then stepped back so I could do me.

I was truly fearing what I knew was to come next. I’d been feeling the fear, at the back of my heart and mind the entire time. The moment was here though, and on I went. As I called to the next being, or the hive mind of the next beings, my fear faded away and my confidence broke through. I found myself in negotiation, on behalf of myself, the boyfriend, my children and innocent forum members. We eventually reached an agreement, and I did something I rarely do, and sealed the agreement with blood. I moved onto the next being, one of the same race, and once again found myself negotiating terms. My offering in exchange was more of the target type, some quite specific and others rather vague, but essentially whoever was responsible for the current circumstance surrounding certain recent events. Naturally I had stipulations around the boyfriend, myself and the children, as a few of the targets are rather close to the four of us, others would not affect my day, in any way. I then moved on to the next being on my ever revolving list once again negotiating terms, and offering specific targets, which I quote from my roughly jotted notes: “eat them alive.” Finally, then one I’d been waiting for quite some time to appear, yet had not. These terms were rather unexpected, but I can see the necessity behind them. They would come to pass, whether or not I agreed. I once again had stipulations, but agreed that when it was time, I would guide my son to a very similar path. He already senses theses beings, whereas the daughter does not. As much as it troubled my mind, I knew my son would eventually find this path, whether I liked it or not. I negotiated when this would happen, and stipulated he would not be troubled by these beings, nor approached a day before his time. If this is how it’s going to be, it’s going to be on my terms. I dismissed the beings, and climbed into bed, expecting nightmares to run rapid, yet they did not.

10/30/20- Once again sleep alluded me in the early morning hours, prior to the arrival of my children. I decided if this was how it was going to be, I should at least use the time wisely and reach out to Legba, who has indicated to a friend, that I should do more work and have less fun. Hmphs. I was a little put out at that, being as compared to most, I do a lot more work with spirits than normal. It’s not uncommon for me to call upon spirits of several currents, all within one night, roughly five days a week. I was put out, but when the rage subsided, I knew what he meant. Too much forum time without a purpose, I spend hours chilling between the forum and mindless phone games each day. I do it for a reason though. The reason is quite frankly with the amount of work I do, I’m high risk for loosing myself, or becoming delusional. The forum bullshitting and mindless phone games, keep me right here in the now.

I realized that it was almost time, for a working that’s been delayed roughly a month and half. I was told quite clearly to wait. I comprehended why I was waiting at the time I was told to wait, but I expected, that somewhere a long the line, the details for how to proceed with the working would reveal themselves. Yet here I was, the early morning prior and that had yet to happen. The spirit I’ve been waiting to show himself, still hasn’t shown up with the plan, yet I knew he was integral to the upcoming work. Tired of waiting and unable to sleep, my defiant little soul sat down and summoned him into my space. Somehow, I was no longer terrified of this being. In fact, I argued with him for almost three hours, about revealing the plan to me, right now. He refused, telling me that I would know, when it was time. Well if that was case, perhaps, it could be revealed to me, exactly how I could obtain something I saw in a future time line during a journey. It was an exploratory journey, rather than a soul retrieval journey, and while a lot of it confused me, at one point, I entered what I believed during the journey to be a future time line. I encountered the boyfriend, and as I realized this was our beautiful home and life, and told him about how I was projecting, I was baffled at his lack of surprise. I couldn’t imagine how we got here, and knowing it was unlikely I would get answers I could understand, I asked him. “How did we do this baby?” He blinked and told me that “We didn’t, You did this.” I did this? How was that possible. I’m not well off, and while my needs are met, I do have credit issues from the past, and well he’s young compared to me. I stood there baffled but asked none the less, if he knew how I did this. His face looked blank and my heart fell. How could I make it happen, if I had no idea how I did it, how did we get there. Maybe it wasn’t a future time line. Maybe it was an alternate time line, that I would never be able to obtain.

I was Rather frustrated, with the spirit I had summoned into my space, as a woman who prefers to know the agenda and plan things out, I taunted and teased and even dared him to show up in the one space where we could come to an agreement, that would be undeniable to my mind, that it had occurred. I wanted to know what the plan was for the ritual and goddammit, my terms are I want that life. I want that time line, a few other minor conditions about the safety of the boyfriend and my children, and I agreed to something I never expected, but only if it came about in a way that wasn’t going to be detrimental to myself, or these three people important to me. I knew all the while, that it wouldn’t happen, that my space was not going to be invaded and that when I did nap while my children were here, I would left quite alone in my dreamscape. No surprise when that was exactly what happened. But there was a surprise, as the early morning hours grew near the time for my children to arrive.

I know a lot of people think that when we hear spirits, that it’s quite discernible and audible. Sometimes that is the case, but more often than not, it almost appears as impressions, or even thoughts at the back of your mind, that if you don’t recognize as something you wouldn’t think or that the language use is different than your normal though process, you wouldn’t even pick up on it being something else. It’s often not literally hearing voices. In fact for me it rarely is. Sometimes I wonder if this is because I am a thinker with words. I can’t make pictures with my mind, so literally almost all of my thoughts are in sentences. I do so much thinking, that while it can be hard to discern at times, my thoughts from communications, often it is so blatantly not my own thoughts, that its rather unbelievable. If you’ve never felt like you could be crazy, wait till a spirit adds thoughts rather clearly to your own, and you will be most certain that you have lost your shit. Well, I lost my shit. Rather suddenly how I got there, to that beautiful little house and cozy life was revealed to me. Not in detail mind you, but what I needed to do, to lay the ground work. It’s going to take a lot of work and determination, but suddenly. I could see it. I don’t know all the details, or what growth will occur along the way, but I know where to begin, and essentially a plan to begin was laid out in front of me. I know I’m going to have days I don’t want to, that I have no motivation and it just seems too hard. But it’s using skills I already have, things I already excel at, it was so obvious that it blew my mind. Thanks, I needed that, truly I did.

So once again, I went into a major ritual tonight, with no idea who I was calling or what I was doing. I only knew it was time, I’d been waiting for a month a half, and now it was time to begin and take the next step towards making this life what it’s meant to be, instead of what life destined it to be.

Whether or not I share the notes for that idk. It’s got a lot of cryptic details to remove the personal aspects and thusly, doesn’t feel like it would be a productive contribution to this journal at this time.

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Just quoting myself here, I feel like I want this someday, and it’ll be harder to find when I do. :rofl:

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I keep putting off writing in this journal, because most of memories from here on out, are not as fun as the previous. I’ve had one on my mind for over a month now, and while it’s not the worst memory in the world, I just haven’t felt like sharing it for some reason, though it oddly enough is not the next in line, but I suppose since it demands attention, attention it will get.

I was in the first grade, my teachers name was Mrs. Glenn. I walked out the side entrance of my elementary school, which was where t-1 and first, and 2nd grade entered and exited the building. I was surprised to see, that it was my daddy waiting for me, and not my mother. My daddy usually worked till 3pm so he was not the one who would normally be waiting for me.

I got into the car and could feel my daddy was upset about something. I remember the the deep color of the interior of his Cadillac and the quiet drive home- it was only maybe a ten minute drive. When we arrived, my daddy took me into a room alone, and told me that my parents were getting a divorce. He was on his knees in front of me, crying. He told me he didn’t want it, but my mother had fallen in love my younger sister’s pediatrician. I wasn’t sad, but he was. I cried with my daddy, because I could feel his pain.

It wasn’t long before everyone I went to school with knew that my parents were getting a divorce. One of my parents set up counseling with the guidance counselor for me, and while I knew everyone was talking about what a scandal it was (1991 divorce where I grew up in Oklahoma was still quite a scandal) but I just detached myself from it. I didn’t feel any hurt or pain, though I did feel awkwardness. I was embarrassed as I was already made fun of for several things, but I remember telling my guidance counselor that it was a good thing, my parents wouldn’t be fighting over my daddy’s drinking anymore.

It wasn’t long before my mother moved me and my sister to a small two bedroom house on 3rd street. My daddy stayed in the house on Cardinal Lane for a while, though I remember the furnishings getting sparse and him purchasing what seemed like a giant tv. I don’t remember much about the house from 3rd street during this time period, but eventually my daddy bought it from my mother and purchased her a different, larger house so I do have later memories of this dwelling.

It wasn’t long after we moved out, before I would find myself in the car with my mother and sister well after dark and bedtime, every night she was not working. My mother would drive up and down the street that my younger sister’s pediatrician lived on. I still recall his name, and his red hair- but since I am not sure if he’s still around, I’ll leave his name out of this.

One of these nights, my mother got pulled over by the police. They told her to take us home, or they would put her in jail for neglecting her kids. Sometime shortly after she received a restraining order from the Pediatrician, and was told she could no longer mail him long love letters multiple times a day, and that it was all fantasy, in her head and the doctor had never made any advances on her. From what I remember of the doctor, this is true. My sisters medical visits were much like my children’s today are, short and too the point. But over the years I have forgotten that she worked in the hospital while I was small, so perhaps there was something I didn’t know.

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Alas, I don’t really want to go into details, as I would need to recap 13 years of an emotionally, verbally and mentally abusive marriage to do so and explain it well…

I came to the realization with the help of a spirit friend today, (After he let me have a total meltdown due to everything in the near future falling apart) that the current struggle is because I have to face this, in order to truly let it be in the past.

I’ve hid from it, I’ve ran from it, I’ve fought it and I’ve hurt and I’ve cried, and I’ve set it aside- hoping it would just walk its ass away and disappear.

Shame, that’s not how shadow work goes is it?

Nope. I have to face the worst next week and hope for the best, so that I can truly file the 13 most painful years of my life, into a file and label them part of my current past life- as something that wont haunt me anymore.

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I missed my first week of first grade. My daddy was moving up in his company- Rockwell (Boeing today) and had the opportunity to take the family with him to Denver Colorado. I don’t remember if we drove out then flew back, or flew out then drove back. Because he was taking four of us, despite the fact that at the time young children could fly free, he used both of his plane tickets for one flight, instead of making a round way trip for one person with them.

I remember looking out the airplane window, and expecting that people would like ants and buildings would look like toys, but that was not case, everything just looked like it was further away than normal.

In my six year old eyes, (Remember I was born 10 days before Christmas, so I started kindergarten the year after I turned 5 instead of the year I turned five because of regulations around birthdays and when children can enter the public school system) I remember in my six year old eyes, that Denver was the most beautiful place I had ever been. My daddy was in meetings all day, so my mother took us down town for sight seeing. I vaguely remember seeing mountain peaks in the distance, and walking through an area where the road or sidewalk was constructed with pebbles, rather than concrete. I remember seeing benches and trees, and there were squirrels that would come right up to you!

I don’t remember much else from the trip, but I do remember my first day of first grade. My mother walked me to the door, and all of the other children in my class were sitting on the floor in front of the teacher. I must have been at least a few minutes late, but it could have even been near the end of the day, for all I can remember. The teacher was holding a book and knew my name.

I was nervous as I approached the group, my mother was gone but I scanned the little crowd and as I got near…I farted. Everyone laughed. I stood there wondering why the laughed, I didn’t know farts were funny things, and thought they were laughing at me because I looked funny or something was wrong with me. Mrs. Glenn, hushed the students, and told them it was a natural body function, then continued reading the story.

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