An Ending

For years, I believed that you did things because it was all you knew. I thought you showed me how much you cared when you sent me food, cat toys, clothes, books, blankets weighted specifically to help with me with my autistic anxiety attacks, because you didn’t know any other way to show me – and I excused that because of how far away from each other we were… Even stranger, in the beginning when I kept telling you not to do these things, because I felt I would owe you something in return (because everyone always wants something in return for their charity), and because I felt that anyone who buys me things was attempting to buy my love (because it’s happened so many times before) – you told me not to worry about it. None of that was true about US. WE were DIFFERENT.

When my illness became so bad I couldn’t communicate anymore, you waited for me to answer your texts – even when it took months, even when my answers simply never came. Of course, you took me to task for my negligence of you, but you were always been the first to admit you are needy and greedy – and I always assured you that wasn’t the case. I agreed that I was the negligent one.

When I was so sick, I simply wanted to die, and you would tell me I wasn’t allowed to die until you were ready to go, yourself, I told myself that you were being loving… the truth is, telling someone they can only die on your schedule is cruel, and grasping. It is not caring when they’re experiencing what I went through. It’s just more emotional torture added to the experience.

In exchange for all of this perceived care, you received from me acceptance, and excuses for all that you were. I accepted the things in your life, and the things about yourself, that were out of your control, beyond your power to change. I accepted those things about you over which you DID have control, and yet still would not change. I occasionally discussed with you what I thought about how your choices, and lack of choices, were affecting your health – spiritually, physically, and mentally… but I never thought of it as judgment, or a request for you to change… I accepted you, wholly. You were who you were, and that was more than ok… it was wonderful.

While you were going through your separation and eventual divorce, I dealt with your constant  criticism of my relationship with my husband, and your frequent oblique references to your ex, as if my husband was cut from the same cloth. I always told myself that your negativity towards R was because you were so hurt… I realize now that there were other issues you had with my happy relationship – one was jealousy… our relationship is significantly healthier than yours was, and I am happy with my husband. The other issue was one of ownership. Every time I mentioned a problem I had, your immediate response was to tell me to run to you, come live with you and be your only person… you never included my husband in your offers unless I brought him up. In your mind, I belong to you, and with you, and shouldn’t be happy anywhere else, with anyone else. When I look back on conversations where you talked about my husband, I feel very manipulated, emotionally. That is not something a friend would do. 

When you expressed an interest in my husband, I was open about it. I know what happens around you when you want things and have to be sneaky, and that is not what I wanted for any of us. When, to protect myself and my relationship with my husband, I laid your desires on the table, you were angry. Part of it is that you enjoy sneaky theft, but a larger part of it was your deep, abiding fear of rejection. Seduction works for you. Bluntness leaves you too open, too revealed. It terrifies you. 

Of course, you and your therapist decided I was a raping raper who pushed you towards things you swore afterwards that you didn’t ever say you wanted. You looked good from that angle… and I took the fall like a good dog. 

When I agreed to take a stronger roll in my own life and power, and in yours, I asked for one thing from both you and the Universe. I asked that I no longer carry the blame for those things that are beyond my control… and you failed to keep your oath.

I experienced something I did not understand, and I came to you for help. You laughed at me, and then you told me that what I’d done (even though it was something beyond my control) was stupid, and that it was going to cause you harm, and that maybe next time I found myself in such a predicament, I should take a moment to think about the larger picture, and all the facts, before I do something like that again.

In other words… you blamed me, and you chastised me. 

You seem to think you gave me information I was unhappy to learn. I was glad to learn what my power had done. I was happy to understand. What pissed me off was your attack of things I had no control over, your blame of me. It’s like yelling at cats for having hairballs or shedding. They have fur – to expect them not to have trouble with their fur from time to time is irrational, and to hold them accountable for their troubles is unreasonable and cruel. 

When I found myself in a situation where I was doing things, but didn’t know what was happening, or even WHY, and I came to you for help – you lorded your superiority over me, and told me, once again, that I think I’m just SO smart that I can do anything I want, because I’ll always find a way out of it. Except that you know that’s not true, and that’s not how I think. This is not the first time we’ve had this EXACT discussion… or even the 90th.

The truth is there are moments in my life where I am fully aware of everything going on around me, yet I am not the one in the driver seat… It appears to everyone else that I am in complete control of what is happening, and yet THAT’S NOT ACTUALLY ME. I move, speak, change the world, and everyone sees my face, my mind, my hands; everyone hears my voice. It’s still not me. I do agree that I’m fully conscious in those moments, where time and the multiverse seem to take a breath, before a sudden wave of power and will changes everything completely… and the epicenter is absolutely me, but I am still not the architect – and saying that I am is like saying I’m to blame for the sun rising.

It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I say this to you – you refuse to understand it. No matter how many times I tell you, “I wasn’t thinking anything at all – there wasn’t an opportunity for me to think, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t do this,’ or ‘Wow, the ramifications of this action make it inadvisable…'” – you STILL insist that because I was there, and the action happened through me, that somehow I could have stopped it, could have changed it… and that next time this happens, I should take control and make it NOT happen.

All this, while also telling me that one of my biggest issues is that I try to control everything (though of course anyone who consistently has their life turned upside down by a puppet master universe would OF COURSE have control issues) and that I should stop “insisting that the system behave the way I want it to,” WHILE you’re simultaneously telling me I should have more control over myself.

The final straw, I think, was that when I asked, you, no… BEGGED YOU to PLEASE attempt to see what was happening to me from my perspective so that you would understand why blaming me for this type of shit is so hurtful, ESPECIALLY COMING FROM SOMEONE LIKE YOU WHO HAS BEEN THERE, TOO… 

When I said to you that you do not seem to understand when I tell you with words, or when I write it down, or when you see it happen to me, but that you seem to ONLY learn by doing, so would you please ALLOW a flow of information to SHOW YOU, BY YOU DOING IT YOURSELF, and you told me I was asking you to be raped – more than that, you told the world that I WANTED you to be raped, that I insisted on it… despite the fact that both of us have been in situations where we were not in control of what happened to our bodies, and neither of us would EVER wish that on ANYONE, EVER… that accusation was just it for me. 

The moment you said that you were not interested in experiencing my world for yourself, I said, OK. I stopped asking you for what I needed, and tried, ONCE AGAIN, to explain IN WORDS what I go through, and you called it a lecture, and then you threatened me – and then you followed that with some incredibly passive-aggressive bullshit.

That was the moment I realized how toxic you are.

I find it interesting that when I won’t do my job, I’m a horrible person, and when I do my job, I’m to blame for the things that happen through me. You call what I asked you to try and experience “Rape.” This essentially means, when you asked me to take back my power, you were asking me to accept rape… and now you’re blaming me for the results… and telling me I’m a rapist because I asked you to attempt to view things from my perspective. What I hear you saying is that it’s ok for me to be raped, and for you to blame me, but it’s not ok for you to emotionally, spiritually, or mentally support me while I endure what you have asked me to endure.

All the gifts in the world don’t make up for you calling me a rapist because I asked you for understanding – asked you for something EVERYONE NEEDS. All the food in the world would not make up for you being ok with me experiencing what you consider to be rape, and also being ok with blaming me for the results. All the pretty dresses, all the plush toys, all the blankets in the world, don’t make up for you greedily telling me that I don’t get to die on my own schedule, but yours. All the visits to organize my medical care, all the offers to pay for various therapies, don’t make up for you lying to me about so many things, and then blaming me for not knowing anything. 22 years of friendship doesn’t make up for you continuing to blame me for shit I cannot help, while doing your damnedest to remain as pure as the driven snow.

That’s about as pure as the shoveled shit. You have betrayed me, abandoned me – every time I have become homeless it has been because of you and your choices. Every time I’ve moved across country, except for the very last, it has been to suit your desires – to either have me, or to throw me away because you found something better for a little while – and the one time I have moved by choice, and for my own reasons – the one time I’ve managed to maintain a stable life for an extended period – when you finally realized what you had chosen over me wasn’t going to work for you anymore, you began trying to emotionally blackmail me into changing my decision.

Do not reply to this post. Do not call me. Do not email me. Do not send me another single thing in an attempt to make yourself feel less guilty for who and what you are, and all the betrayals you have heaped on me over the years. I do not want you – in my life, in my power, in my future – we are not family, we are not friends… and I don’t care enough to even want to be enemies – because you’re not even worth THAT kind of energy.

I have forgiven you, accepted you, loved you… and you have lied to me, accused me, blamed me, betrayed me… and all of this, for the last time. I’m done with you.

 I’ve blocked your phone number and your emails. We’re done. I got help and removed my power from your family line, untwisted our fate, and separated our godhead. We are now two, on two separate paths. I have paid you what I owe, and washed my hands of all of it. 

Thank the gods we’re over. That was the silliest 20,000 years of my life. 

Beautiful Broken

His eyes were stag eyes. They went with the horns. His skin was tans and greens – natural colors, he blended into the surrounding wood so well that if you didn’t know he was there, you would never know. 
We were standing on the top of a mound in the center of the wood, looking out over the view of wilderness. I remember thinking, this is what it looked like, back when he was a God. There was a calm to him – a sort of zen-like calm that one only gets when one is assured of dying, over and over again, only to be reborn. Or perhaps it’s simply the prosaic calm of a faerie older than dirt. I can’t really tell, so I try not to think about it. Besides, he’s making me think about other things, anyway. 
"You’re so young to be so bitter… does it please you to be so angry at the world?" 
"I’m not angry," I say, my voice sullen and demanding that this line of questioning stop. Of course he doesn’t listen. 
"It must fill some purpose, or you wouldn’t hold on to it so strongly. Tell me what it does for you, and I will cease my questioning." Of course, when you’ve lived for more years than most species have been around, being direct is a privilege. I sigh, because obviously, we are going to have this conversation. 
"Let me show you, then." The flicker surrounds us. First snap, the medications. These four for mental reasons. These two vitamins to combat the side-effects of two of those four. This one because a fiancée cheated on me. Ah, and that brings new flickers – the fiancée, and all the other lovers, where we all went wrong, the fights, the lack of fight, the slow slide into painful oblivion… the druggies, the alcoholic, the two abusers, the first love who got addicted to black magick, the two covens that fell apart, the witch war. All the little proofs that life is hell, and no one makes it out alive. 
Finally, it’s over. He looks at me with ancient eyes. "You are beautiful, my broken girl, and you do not see it. All that pain, and you keep trying to heal others. Your illness is your strength – but because you’re not your version of perfect, you believe you cannot be healed. It must be the seelie in your blood, this drive for physical perfection. To me, you have already achieved it." 
I’m silent for a moment, then… "But I’m not seelie," I say. "I’m unseelie court."
He smiled, and as he faded away on the wind, I heard "Angels are a bit of both, daughter."
"Shhh… don’t tell them. They wouldn’t believe you." I laugh, and following suit, I fling my own self into the winds, to go where I wish… home.

Dinner (by Starlight) is Served

I paced the room, as I always do, like some kind of caged animal… back and forth, back and forth. I’ll look out the window, walk away, only to return and look again, as if I expect anything to be different. This time, I look out with a flash of victory – for the first time in over a month, there are stars. Hundreds. Thousands. Countless stars. Dinner is served. 

I may look human, but I’ve never been one – not truly. I wear a human suit, here, but my soul is of different make, and the blending of many kinds means the existence of many hungers. But, as you have said about yourself many times, I am not strictly Ubi. Or Fae. Or anything else… and because of this, my hungers are many – I did not lose the Fae hungers when I gained the Ubi, and I must feed both to survive, so I hunt in Astral for food that calls to both the unseelie and the carnal lusts, but I also feed here.

What exactly do I eat? A nibble of some causal shared lust here and there, offered up by a kind friend, and then the stars, and if I cannot reach them, the storm, the trees, the grasses. That part of me that hungers for the freedom of the night, the freedom of the sky, cannot be fed by any other way – only starlight can fill that particular empty space within me. Humans cannot fill it, nor animals – it is a thing of wild open spaces, vast reaches, solar and lunar emanations, and humans are none of those things anymore. That, and to the Fae, even the unseelie, humans taste disgusting – even when the Ubi lusts call for it, the Fae in me searches for better, and humans are, from that perspective, nothing better than junk food – that which one eats to still the hunger for a moment, but not a true feed unless the gift of a meal is offered freely with knowledge. 

Sometimes, the hungers become confused… the unseelie passions rule my lustful hunger, so that the more dangerous the prey, the more I want to fuck it – but I cannot feed the Fae hunger by such means.

When I saw the stars, I immediately began to gather up my coat, to dig out my shoes from the suitcase, to prepare to go out and feed. Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple, because I had begun to go through a classic human experience… my shell had come down with a cold. Of course, my healers were working on it, but while they can lessen the symptoms, and effect a cure in a couple of days, there are certain things that… make their job… difficult.

Such as taking a long walk under the stars when it’s 4 degrees outside.

“You realize this will slow down the healing, that this is a mistake?” came the flash of red and black… always so quick to point out when I’m about to do something… foolish.

“Desire,” I sigh, “if not tonight, then WHEN? We haven’t seen stars in a month, and tomorrow the clouds will be back, and I will still be starving. I need to feed.” Wisely, the voice was silent, and I finished my preparations, and decamped from the house in short order.

There is a price to going so long without feeding, even when it’s because there’s no other choice. Thus, it wasn’t until I was nearly to the road, fully 5 acres away from my parent’s house, that I was able to finally feed. I had to get far enough away from all the metal – when you’re as low on energy as I am, even in a human shell, your resistance to cold iron, to the metals of man, becomes significantly less, until it interferes with even the natural functions like feeding… having to walk so long in the cold was going to come back to bite me in the ass, later, but for now, I walked under the stars, until finally, that part of me that fed on starlight released, opened, relaxed, and from one moment to the next, filled – like gravity, like grounding, the energy from starlight simply filled me, the moment I unclenched that starving hole within me. I took time to revel in the feeling of the night, sharing that appreciation with the elements that fed me as a form of thanks, and finally, I turned and walked back towards the house.

The glittering snow, the glittering stars, my glittering eyes… all at peace, all full and happy, that trapped, caged, pacing part of me calmed… for a while.

It was totally worth it… Even if, the next day, I woke without a voice, for my pains.

Not So Simple

Started talking to an old friend yesterday. It’s been over ten years. Ten years and I have not much to say, because there’s just not much to tell… or maybe it’s just that I don’t know how to say it. But I made the effort. I told her what little there was to tell. That I have a son being raised by my parents. That I don’t work, but I do Work – though it’s not really the same thing. That I have a diagnosis of Bi-Polar with psychotic features. 

That part hurt to say. Especially as I don’t believe it, not completely. It’s just not that simple. 

I told my doctor recently – when you’re raised in Haiti, it’s a normal part of your culture to be a Horse – for Gods to ride you for your people. When you’re raised in witchcraft, you grow up believing in magic, and in unseen things. You grow up knowing about psychic gifts, and they are as real and solid an experience as the things that normal people can see and touch. 

In our culture, in this country, the majority do not believe in magic. They don’t believe in psychic abilities, regardless of what physics tells them. They don’t believe in the unseen. Even the Gods, even their Christ, is not completely real to them. If They were, if He was, they wouldn’t behave the way they do. 

So the DSM-IV tells psychiatrists that my experiences are a form of schizo-affected disorder, regardless of how practical, orderly, and functioning I might be. The fact that I sense emotions and sometimes thoughts, the fact that I "hallucinate" weather three days before it happens, the other myriad experiences I have that cannot be measured, are normal for me, but because they are not normal for the society I live in allows psychiatrists to label me as abnormal. Instead of God-touched, I’m crazy. 

What can I say to that? Nothing. There is, unfortunately, no convincing a doctor that there might be a different view when that doctor has made up her mind. 

Saying it, like I agree that a label belongs in me, hurt – even if I stated afterwards that I personally think the diagnosis is nonsense, and just a way of saying that I’m more psychic than sometimes I can cope with. 

Knowing what my old friend might think hurt more… after all… psychic is often an excuse – a way of denying reality… a part of the psychosis. 

I didn’t lie. 

I just didn’t say that it wasn’t that simple. 

Perhaps I should have. 

Selling Time

 When I walked in the side door closest to the larger bar, there was a moment of flickering time… just an echo, two times running concurrently. There’s really no way to explain a moment of non-linear time to someone who is only aware of one layer, but it’s a lot like the echoes in the movie "The Matrix" where the programming is suddenly altered, and a temporary glitch appears. They must have had a rough night, and are cleaning the bar. 

A snapping sound, and everything shifts again, the echo fades from mind and memory. The warehouse has been set up with a stage on one end, several sets of double doors at the other which had been clearly spelled to allow denizens to walk through them comfortably… not everyone is human-shaped, and some can be quite large. There were two bars – one large on the right wall (if you’re facing the stage), one smaller bar on the left wall – an upper loft that looked to be set up for dancing (wait, they dance, too???) and tables scattered everywhere like dandelions in a field. Not all the chairs were chair-shaped. A woman with four arms was cleaning the larger bar, and a band was either setting up or leaving… it being obviously after-hours and empty as a ghoul’s tomb, I was betting on the latter. 

The woman looked up as I began to walk towards her, but her arms continued cleaning glasses, wiping counters, the movements sure, obviously the product of long practice. When I reached the bar, however, she paused, and gave me her whole attention. If she does that with everyone who comes to her with a drink order, her tips must be astronomical, but I’ve only been here once during business hours – and we sat by the other bar. I know her well enough – through business I’ve gotten to know everyone who works here. 

"Lady Voice – a pleasure. You are… just in Time."

She smiles slightly at the quip, and I can’t help it… it’s such a silly thing, but I grin because she greets me this way every time I see her, but I had noticed the flickering… the spell was definitely getting rather low on juice – I should have been here days ago. "My apologies for waiting until the last moments, but it could not be helped." 

"Yes, I know it was a hard season for everyone. You’re entitled, every now and then, to a break, Lady. You and your Sister… you work too hard sometimes. You should come in sometime when you have no business with us – come in to relax. At least your Sister knows how to play hard, too." 

My smile flashes again. "Perhaps I will, some day." 

"Your Sister told us once that you knew how to sing? We have karaoke nights… you would be welcome, here. And I’m sure that there are those who would enjoy the chorus you sing through other throats…"

I flinch slightly, inside – partly due to the idea of listening to tuneless drunks singing bad karaoke, but mostly because of the oblique reference to previous events at The Angel. 

"Yes, I can sing. I can even possess up to five people – six on a good night – and sing through them at the same time, but… power wedded to voice… and I can’t help that when I sing… I’d bring down the house, and people would die." I give her a sad smile. I haven’t sung for over a year.. not even in my head. Things unravel when I sing. 

"What would it matter, Lady? Most of us are dead already… and the ones who are not are Powers in their own right. If they can’t handle the heat, our protections can." 

I pause, really giving her offer due consideration. A night out with Desire, perhaps even with my Sister? It might be fun. And if I practice in public my skill of singing through other throats, the skill would get stronger… and I wouldn’t have to listen to tonelessness… much. "All right. I will," I say. "But… I remember the last time I was in here just to cut loose… someone picked a fight with me over my blood-status – picking on the novitiate, the interloper, for status. I broke the rules that night. Is the interdiction over, then?" 

"We’ve been buying time from you for months now, Lady. I think I know what class of person you are by now. You don’t defend yourself nearly so often as you defend someone else – and they have learned you are not an easy meal. Plus… you know the rules now. And you need a break every now and then. Too much work will give you pain."

I nodded to her – because she’s right. I haven’t had a break in months – and everyone needs time to just cut loose… However, I remember that fight. When the demon pulled out claws and tried to make a physical issue of my status and that of those who chose to sit at the table with me, so he’d look more impressive to his own little gathering, he nearly broke Truth’s arm… so I pulled off a glove, slapped his face, and with the touch, vaporized him down to his atomic level. One minute demon, the next not even smoke. It caused… a little bit of a stir. But they don’t call me out on my blood status anymore, and I don’t take off my gloves or the torque around my neck that modifies my voice, unless asked. 

"Now… to what I came here for. The box?" 

She pulls it out from under the bar. I’m sure that’s not where it’s kept – more likely, she’s got an undetectable rift under there, coded to her… wait… do her kind even have DNA? Probably not, but something. The rift would probably take the arms off of a person not authorized to gather what lay within it, at any rate… if they could afford me, they could afford the best protections… and in some situations, they had to have them – even when the rules are clearly stated, demons can get pretty rowdy.

That’s what this little trick is for. I sell them little chunks of time – so they can rewind trouble to before it starts. Had they been buying time from me when I ablated that pipsqueak of an imp, that bar-fight might not have ended in an interdiction. We really did trash the place… demons get a little snippy when you demolish one of their friends in such a frighteningly sudden way. And I really did take him back to his component parts. It took a major time shift and the exploration of several untied timelines to get him back.. which was fun for me, but irritated his Lord. Bullies are expensive. 

She lays the box on the bar, and we pull out our keys. It’s a puzzle-box, and requires two keys and a complicated code that requires all six of our hands to open… and no. I’m not going to explain it to you. 

When we’ve got the box open, the interior glowing with golden luminescence, I remove the glove on my left arm, and draw out the dagger kept inside the flesh of my right arm. Very carefully, holding my left wrist over the box so I spill nothing anywhere but into it, I slash my wrist. My blood is human-red, true, but I also bleed light. Golden liquid light. .The red is startling – candy-apple red, with sparkles of faery-luminescence – the gold tends to drown it out, but in the odd light of the bar, pitch dark but seen clearly, the glittering is obvious even when I wed it to power, as I did at that moment. What poured down my wrist was more than blood. It was liquid time. Concentrated Gift. I sang it into being, sang through blood and bone, Voice silent, mind running the show, but careful, so careful, to protect her and anyone else, the building, while still pouring Gift into the box…

When it was filled with Power, I bound the spell, and the box closed itself away. Sweating a little, she carefully took it off the counter, and put it away. I guess even when I’m controlling it, and you’re expecting it, the Voice is a little hard to handle. I know she’s shaking because she’s exhausted, suddenly… the expenditure of staying whole, in spirit, flesh, and mind is tiring, even with my help. I smile a sad, apologetic smile. She shakes her head. "You’ll still sing for us?" 

"I don’t know. I don’t think I should. The torque does help, but…" I don’t know why I still have this need to protect others from my power… most of them might even be able to handle it… they’re not weak like imps… but I’ve yet to come across someone I didn’t need to protect from that Gift that wasn’t a God. It’s exhausting, protecting people – and I don’t think I could do the full crowd of the Demion on karaoke night. I shake my head sadly. 

"Come anyway. Sing through others. No Truth-speaking, but come anyway." 

I nod again. It’s noncommittal. I could be-spell every demon in the room with my Voice. I could take them apart piece by piece, and they would love me for it while I did it. I don’t sing, any more. It only brings me pain.

We don’t discuss price for the spell – it’s just not necessary. I’m well-paid to bleed, and I know it, and they’re always good for it, so I don’t worry about it. I leave it up to my Goddess, my God, my Crew. We say our polite goodbyes, she a little less shaky than a moment before, and I leave, the way I came – out the door, and then into the draining colors. It’s time to go home again, home to the one person I cannot damage… the other half of my Self.

ADDENDUM: When greeting my God and Goddess this morning, and mentioning that I would like to be able to sing once again, my Goddess gave me a white flower with many petals… you could call it a Lotus-Rose, because that’s what it looks like. It is also not true white, but cream-white like a magnolia or gardenia… corpse-white. If I put it in my mouth, it will dissolve on my tongue and… reduce the sonic backlash that causes all the problems… for about four hours. 
My Sister… Do you want to go singing tonight???

To the Reader

 I know you’re out there. You cruse by me, following the yahoo link to the facebook link to this journal…. you read my mind placed here just for you, pen to paper, vision to vocals… and I don’t mind… I like that you are out there… but… 
I just have one little issue… 
I want to know your thoughts on my little compositions. You read but never speak. 
I work hard for you. 
Where’s my sugar?

Going With The Flow – Magick Styles

We live in a world of duality. Day, night; sun, moon; dark, light; good, evil; black, white; God, Goddess; male, female. Everything that is, has its opposite. But it’s not quite that simple. While looking at the broader picture, it’s easy to think that opposites have nothing to do with each other, but we live in a very complex multi-verse, and the subtle truth is that everything is tied to its opposite, just as the Earth is tied to the Sun. When you look at a scale, with day on one side, and night on the other, slowly sliding into each other, in the middle, you cannot find a place where one definitely becomes the other. They are connected, but even more than that, all opposites are each other. Day IS Night. Sun IS Moon. Light IS Dark. Look at the Yin-Yang symbol… As one well sinks, the other rises, in a never-ending process.
This being said, it becomes obvious that the energies for spells are always available. Protection can be done anytime you like. Love spells, money spells, healing spells, bindings, banishings… all these energies are available at all times. If it’s an emergency and you have no other options, whatever the moon is doing in the sky, you can find the energies you seek for your spells.
However, outside of emergencies, there is something to be said for going with the flow.
If you’ve been practicing long enough, and you know yourself well enough, you’ve probably discovered that you tend to be more in tune with some energies than others – and that aligning yourself with those energies that are more readily available, and more in tune with your own nature, makes working spells much easier – and conversely going against the flow, your spells are more likely to fail, or worse, backfire… and the effects are significantly strengthened when you are going against the flow outside and your own nature on the inside.
Perhaps I should explain better.
I am not a LHP. I am always very careful to make sure that what I do, in all areas of my life, is constructive, compassionate, and healing. I’m not perfect – I make a LOT of mistakes – but I try to clean up after myself, and not make the world an uglier place than it can already be. However, even though I have a strong set of ethics, I have noticed for a very long time that spells to banish – breaking bad habits, uncrossings, removing impediments, healing that is based on undoing – and anything that needs a little chaos – these spells, these energies, are very easy for me to tap into – even during the waxing and full moons, whereas constructive magick – protection, prosperity, love, healing – these things are a little more difficult for me, even when the phases and energies around me are leaning the right way. I once read a quote: “When the water stinks, I break the dam. In love, I break it.” It is, quite simply, in my nature to break things – to such an extent that I can, when aligned with my own energies, go against the flow of the universe. However, when attempting to do the opposite – that is, heal during the waning times, it goes spectacularly wrong.
So, I have learned over time to go with the flow. If someone asks me to cast healing and protection for them, if the moon’s not right, rather than working against the flow of the universe AND the energy within myself, I wait… and I am careful to tap into external energies to power those spells that are alien to my nature, drawing them directly into my spells without touching them.
So… what’s your flow?

Not Right

“You’re on Facebook? What do you think so far?” My old room-mate is even less personable and socially oriented than I am. Which is saying something. He’s more a hermit than me… and spends WAY too much time alone. So I’m surprised.
“I don’t know – all these strangers I’ve never heard of keep saying they’re my friends. I don’t even know them”
“Well, to be honest I kind of think Facebook is the world’s best time-waster. Which is OK when you’re practically a shut-in like I am. I have no car, and most of the people I know are really poor – and far away. So I was surprised to find you there… You don’t have a lot of spare time on your hands, being in a truck all the time.
“Seriously… I didn’t know what I was in for, when I joined Facebook. You’re right about a bunch of strangers trying to be your friend, but… I only let people I know be my friend. If I’ve never spoken to them, with one exception, I ignore their request to be friends. The exception was someone who I was playing a game with. We decided not to fight against each other, but instead to team up. That’s why I say Facebook is such a time-waster – there’s lots of games to play, and when you’ve got no life, like me, it helps pass the time. But I’ll tell you something… I have friends on Facebook that I went to High School with. I have friends from Delaware, ten years ago, on there. People I haven’t spoken to in years… you know I don’t keep track of people really well – I’m too much a loner, and when it comes to friends, I’m apathetic about it at the best of times… but… well, I have two friends from High School that I talk to nearly every night. And a friend in Farmington who I haven’t seen in five years, but I talk to him every week. And a friend in Delaware… it’s been ten years since I saw him last – and we hardly spoke on the phone, not even once a year, some years… and now we’re redeveloping that friendship, we talk every evening – these long, roving conversations that last all night. It’s wonderful. I’m getting my friends back, and it’s made me really happy. It helps me feel part of the world again – I’m socializing.” I grin, even though he can’t see me over the phone.
“Yeah… I’m going to socialize with my bike, instead,” he says.
I pause. “Wait… You’re going to soc… Damnit, M… I keep telling you that’s not what the exhaust pipe is for…”
“Really? Then why is it so warm?”
We laugh… And yeah, we both know…
We’re so not right.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

To Trevor With Love

Kat: This is what that blog is normally like:
Trevor : lol
Trevor : i dont “blog”
Trevor : so comparing isnt really anything to me
Trevor : i dont trust the internet
Trevor : itd be my luck id get a stalker or something
Trevor : i like to leave a little mystery
Trevor : that and it it gives people something new to talk about when they hang out than being silent because they all read about it online
Trevor : lol
Kat: You can sign up for his newsletter. I get his articles in my inbox every day.
Trevor : just my half cent
Kat: I blog… but… I still talk in person, too.
Trevor : i noticed that you didnt blog about me!!
Trevor : you blogged about kristi and scott!!!
Trevor : lol
Kat: hmmm… when did I blog about Kristi?
Trevor : the friend who was seeing fairies
Trevor : however after making this comment i dont want you bloggin about me cause i know you and i could see it now
Kat: Oh… but that wasn’t a blog, really, so much as a request for info… and it turned out that she wasn’t seeing fairies, anyway… she was seeing ghouls and when the flooding was over, they disappeared.
Trevor : today im gonna blog about my homo homie trevor who bitched that i didnt blog about him
Trevor : LOL
Kat: lol
Kat: I’m not that bad.
Kat: lol
Trevor : i know babe im just kiddin
Kat: You made tea come out my nose.
Trevor : LMAO
Trevor : found it that funny huh
Trevor : could you picture me saying that
Kat: lol

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Charting the Landscape: Warning… REALLY LONG

A friend recently asked to watch me work. For some reason, we think due to the fact that he was on a cellphone at the time, he was unable to join a conference – so I’m putting everything down on paper, so to speak… and emailing him the link. Since no one else has seen me work unless I’m working on them, I figured I’d share the background… the stuff I don’t say is going on, so you can really get the idea of what it’s like living in my head and working with my gifts.
I recognize ahead of time that this may confirm your belief in my complete lack of sanity… then again, when has an oracle been exactly sane. I do promise that I get my lack of sanity honestly, and not through any kind of drug use. And I also would like to point out that I take the medications my psychiatrist insists on me taking with absolute regularity. It doesn’t seem to help, but then that’s possibly because psychic abilities are not a symptom of mental illness, even if they might be a product of them.
You should know that the whole time I was working with him, and the whole time I was talking with my other friend, and the whole time I was working on putting this out there… there were bells. I swear to Gods, I heard bells playing music, like from a freaking clock tower when the really fancy ones chime the hour and play a musical piece. It’s starting to drive me a little nuts… I’m not sure who’s doing it or why.

So. Here you go. May it educate you and bring you joy – or at least lessen your grief and/or skepticism. Oh, and… the actual work work doesn’t start until half-way down the page. Sorry, but I wanted to show you the inside-my-head view as well as the on-the-page view. Blessed be.

Like I said… It’s REALLY LONG

Possible Conflicts – Flock vs. Quicktime


Hey, I’m checking to see if I got a problem with my browser fixed… would you mind saying something?


i dont mind a bit

lol how are you?

im ok tired but ok


ooooo… I think it’s fixed! YAY!

I’m tired too… haven’t been to bed yet. lol



oh my!


Got addicted to Bloodlines.




Oh… if you start having an issue between flock, quicktime, and the facebook chat app… uninstall and reinstall both flock and quicktime. That will fix the problem. You have to install quicktime using internet explorer.




Trust me.



ok i do


I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it… I think what happened was that my computer glitched (as it’s growing every more fond of doing lately) while quicktime was updating… and so the install was bad and the errors spread.

This chat applet is the only thing I use quicktime for, so the error only spread to flock – thank heavens. lol




Your computer is newer and faster than mine, so you should be fine.


ty for the information



Do you mind if I post a copy of this chat on my blog?



i dont mind at all


TY! 😀:D

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Hey, I’m checking to see if I got a problem with my browser fixed… would you mind saying something?




Hi… how’re you?


busy. whats up


I won’t keep you, then. This brief conversation was enough.


okie dokie ttyl love


You helped. 🙂:) TY very much, and bright blessings…

So there you go… checked and double-checked… Not sure, really, what the original cause was, but it’s truly fixed now. Time for bed. 😀

Telepathy, or Precog?

Phone conversation w/ S.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m cleaning out my truck so I can work on the stereo. Hey! There are symbols in here!"

"Drum symbols?"


"Won’t B need them?"

"Yeah, I’ll drop them off at his place later today."

"Wow! Why am I seeing a gig? It’s at night, and there’s a band outside. It’s outdoors."

"Am I playing?"

"It’s a party. It’s too dark to say who’s playing. "

"Did I tell you about Saturday?"


"I’m playing a party on Saturday. Good job!"

"Hah!" I grinned.

I’m feeling rather proud of myself. For once, it’s not weather! Although there were stars, so maybe I was supposed to mention the good weather. It wasn’t windy that I could tell, or cold… but it was just a flash. I’m not sure why I saw it, honestly.

But here’s the question… did I pick up on it because of the conversation, did I pick up on it telepathically, because S was thinking about it, due to the discovery of the symbols? Or was it a precog event? If it was telepathy, it’ll be the first event in quite a while between he and I – we work hard to shield ourselves from each other, to give each other our space. On the other hand, if it was a precogged event, being as when I’m awake I usually just precog weather three days before it occurs, and this was not one of those instances, and being as this was a vision rather than a dream, which is where I usually precog things other than weather, and those dreams usually offer proof of a resolution to a problem I’m dwelling on a lot during conscious periods, this was definitely an unusual occurrence.

So… what do you all think? Precognition, or telepathy?


"I’m thinking of dying my hair."

He’s leaning up against the air (I’m pretty sure people pay to see that in places – it’s a sight to see…) staring at his (of all things) nails… I think he’s trying to look casual. Human. "Oh? What color?"

"Colors. I’m thinking of streaking it blue and green. Forest green, not that ugly psychedelic eyesore green. And maybe some auburn highlights… But definitely blue and green."


"No… that’s the Picts. They painted themselves blue (or maybe tattooed… no one is really sure)… well, the warriors did anyway… and maybe the priests. I’m just going to paint my hair. And it’s a different blue, I think."

"You’re a priest."

"Noooooo… I’m a tool. There’s a difference. So?"

"You’ve got Pictish blood in you… you can paint yourself if you like."

"You’re not a Pict deity though. And I’m not painting my skin. People’ll look at me weird if I do that."

"I rather thought that was the point."

He’s probably right. I hope I get it done before my mum arrives from KY. (And no, the irony of the abbreviation is NOT lost on me.) I’d do it anyway, but the added joy of irritating her to the point that she pisses herself will make the ecstasy of having green hair like SEX.
Am I bad?

Um and Oops

M just pointed out the high amusement factor of a comment I’ve made recently, so…
Here’s the brief conversation on the subject of one of my more unfortunate (and rather disgusting) gifts…

M: you can see peoples kidneys? lol
M: even if it is See
Selket: Yeah. Like I said, it’s kinda gross.
M: lol
M: it does sound a little gross
M: is exclusive to kidneys or can you See other organs as well?
Selket: I can see all the way down to the insides of bone – I’m good at seeing illnesses – which kinda sucks.
M: ahh then its not as funny
M: someone who could just see kidneys, but not anything else really would make me laugh a little, though i would feel sorry for them
M: i think it was the randomness of suddenly seeing "I can See kidneys" that got to me lol
M: i hope it works as well on the other people reading
Selket: The first person I ever diagnosed was when I was 16, and I told my parents our dog had cancer… they laughed at me (which is really nothing unusual)… when I was 19, they put her down, because it had metastasized and she was completely riddled. They still insist that me telling them never happened… but they’re like that.
Selket: you know… I met a woman about a year ago in my psych’s office – I took one look at her and just KNEW she was schizophrenic…
Selket: That’s the first time I’ve seen a mental illness in someone’s brain…. but a few months ago, I met an elderly woman who is in the first stages of senile dementia. She went straight to her doctor after I talked to her, and she’s doing really well.
Selket: Well, my caseworker overheard the woman and I talking – I like crazy people… they make me feel sane, so I struck up a conversation with miss schizophrenic to pass the time. Anyway the woman was telling me about her diagnosis, and how she thought it was incorrect. I told her it was definitely correct… and then I went to talk with my caseworker, who confirmed my diagnosis. So… two confirmations from two separate sources… I was rather proud of that… being as I’d never tried that before.
Selket: But once you turn something like that on, you can’t really turn it off (or at least I haven’t figured it out) so every time I go to my doctor’s office, I get a bit overloaded… "This person is depressed, this person is an addict. This person is… etc.." Drives me nuts.

My Definition (Re: Feathers vs. Leathers)

So that there is NO misunderstanding…

I do NOT define Old, fallen Gods that have been demonized by the Christian church as demons.
Nor do I include Man’s Adversary (as described by the Hebrew book of Job), who has also been demonized by the Christian church – their utter lack of scruples, and their complete neglect of even a basic understanding of their religious roots have long been an issue with me – in that group of unsavories. That poor being was assigned the sad task of torturing us to see if we really did love "God," and when he didn’t want to do it anymore, that particular God got pissed – the fact that the Christians have decided that a job title is a name, and have warped the description of the duties of the title-holder is not HIS fault.
I do not define that which is truly GOOD (and therefor appears, to my own Sight, to be so internally) as Demon.
I do not define that which is truly EVIL (and, once again appears to be so internally in my eyes) as Angel.
There are those who appear to, on the outside, have feathers, but are not Angels by my definition.
There are those who appear to, on the outside, have leathers, but are not Demons by my definition.
When I say I prefer feathers over leathers, what I mean is the internal being of such entities.
You may be human, pixie, dragon, elf, demon, angel, god, or any multitude of other beings, and I will see your appearance outside and/or astrally to be what you are, but I will see your insides, too, and I will know you to be demonic or angelic.
This is my definition.

When I say that I am prejudiced… When I say that I AM a racist bitch… this is what I mean.
If you are evil, whatever form you may take physically or astrally, I will see your insides, and you will have red eyes, burned skin, black and leathery wings, claws, and sometimes hooves. You may not appear to be so to the naked eye or to those with Sight, but I will know you for who and what you are, and I will never trust you or believe you to be anything other than what you so deeply are. Nor will I believe that I can redeem you. I will fight tooth and nail to protect others from your influence.
If you are good, whatever form you may take physically or astrally, I will see your insides, and you will have golden shining eyes, skin of light, and feathery wings of many and varied colors depending on you personally. You may not appear so to the naked eye or to those with Sight, but I will know you for who and what you are, and I will fight tooth and nail to protect you (and work with you) because you are worthy of my protection, my love, and my trust.

As many people as there are on earth, there are nearly as many definitions of what it means to be a demon, or an angel. Now you have mine… and I hope this clears up any misunderstandings regarding my previous post.

Bright blessings, all my angels…

To Slap or Not to Slap

Just out of curiosity…

I’ve found that my previous path of Wicca is ill-suited to guardianship. Keeping things balanced, cleaning up messes… sometimes you have to hurt to heal, and Wicca (for the most part, at least as I understand it) does not allow for that.

I have recently been having troubles keeping my temper around those ultra-fluffy head-cases with their noggins so far in the freaking clouds they wouldn’t recognize reality if it reached into their arses and ripped their anterior ends out by the throat..

The urge to slap people with a wooden mallet grows daily in leaps and bounds.

Anyone else ever feel the need to force-feed life-lessons to the nut-jobs, or is it just me?

I’m actually rather admiring of my restraint – So far, I’ve managed to contain myself… mostly.

Is God a Taoist

M sent me this link… I have tried over and over to explain what I learned when I met God face to face, and what I continue to learn… 
This is the best explanation I’ve ever come across, and it’s certainly better than my limping attempts. 
My suggestion… read the whole thing… and please, let me know what you think… I’d love to talk about it some more.
Bright blessings…

Angels, Wings, Etc.

This conversation with a friend of mine happened over several days, and is a little choppy, but it talks about what angels are, how to tell if you’ve got wings, mentions a few other creatures that have wings as well, and has a few links that explain a lot more. Oh, yeah… it’s been edited heavily, and my friend’s name has been removed and replaced with his first initial.

S – Did you know that an angels eyes change color with his mood – they do that a lot. Ever seen a red-eyed angel? Creepy. Mine sometimes change color depending on what I’m wearing… but other times they don’t… I did get really pissed when someone threatened a friend and my eyes went red – but that was a long time ago… I don’t usually get that angry.

M – So what other stuff besides nephilim have wings?

S – Angels, demons, dragons, faerie, winged cats, some vampires, pegasi… tons of things have wings…

M – What things that have human forms, or am i human with astral wings?

S – Well… here’s the thing. You’re in a human body. You may be otherkin (non-human soul), you may be human. There are some humans in human bodies who have wings – they might have wanted them so badly they created them with the power of thought and belief (this tends to look like the wings have been tacked on and might fall off very easily), other humans with wings have actually been granted wings for some reason… usually has to do with doing something truly noble and good, or something deeply evil. Posessed humans have wings, if you know what to look for.

M – Is there any way to tell?

S – Otherkin souls, if the soul has wings, the human body will react, even though you don’t actually have physical wings. The back shows two odd bumps on the shoulderblades, and pain in the neck, shoulders, back, and if they’re large enough, all the way down to your ankles. The human body wasn’t made for wings, and doesn’t react well to having all that psychic weight. There is only one way for another person to tell if you have wings… if they have the Sight, and your wings are out, they will see them. But if you never open your wings, no one will ever know if you have them. Human made wings are always open.

M – Well you never noticed them when we were doing sheild work so i would guess that they arent human made.

S – Have YOU ever seen wings on you?

M – I didnt ever have the neck pains before i was 15 or so… umm, i didnt really think about them but then i sortve imagined which is usually how i see stuff (so someitmes i have issues knowing whether im seeing it or making it up – not that theres always a difference) and i saw wings pop open, kinda gold but more particles than feathers when i looked closer, and i smiled.

S – When you saw your wings pop open, what happened to your back and your chest, your neck, your head?

M – I felt good, thats the best i can explain it. i was sitting on a chair – in my head i sorta heard something like wings snapping open when it happened

S – Did you feel any movement in the muscle groups associated with wings? (the muscle groups seem to be the same for us as for avians)

M – just a few moments i was thinking about them and i could feel stuff in my back moving while i was sitting down and not really moving – it was a little lower in my back than between my shoulder blades… what can you teach me about angels?

S – Wouldn’t it be better to learn about them from them personally? I mean… I’m just a nephillim… my understanding is notably skewed.

M – Well, i dont really know anything, or how to contact them.

S – Well, here’s the information I can give you… There are tiers, a hierarchy, of angels… each group has a different purpose. Those different groups are called Thrones. Each Throne has a different appearance, attitude, set of gifts, and job to do. There WAS a war in heaven, but not the way the Christians depict it… one of the angels felt so sorry for humans and their plight, and wanted God to explain why this was so… other angels agreed with It’s pov (angels are unisex, most often appearing as male, but neither male nor female, and most are assumed to be sterile, though I don’t think that’s true or I wouldn’t exist)… Anyway… there was another group of angels who basically said, hey, who are we to question the source of all creation and it’s purpose for creating the earth school? So a bit of a schoolyard scuffle broke out, and those angels who really felt sorry for humans, decided (with god’s permission) to come down here and experience what we go through… The goal is to help us balance karma and get out of this place. The reason I’m here and NOT a demon is because I agreed with both sides, and since I wouldn’t just pick one, instead of becoming a demon, I ended up becoming human instead, or a nephillim.
Guardian angels are actully the lowest Throne. They’re sent down here (without taking physical form, rather like demons in that aspect) to work with humans and guide them. But guardian angels and guides are slightly different… a guardian angel will advise, but will not pick up the pieces when you ignore them and fall flat on your face… instead it will sit there, shake its head and say I told you so… guides will help you pick up the pieces and heal. lol Angels are inhuman and they have no sympathy. BTW… the devil (satan) is not evil, in spite of what everyone says…. the bible says "No unclean thing can dwell in the presence of the lord." And yet, in Job, the devil goes before God and ASKS permission to test Job. It’s a play in the old testament of the bible, but it shows the hebrew beliefs about the adversary – a widly different veiw than what the Christians have to say. But anyway, the book of Job pretty much says that A) The devil is man’s adversary, not God’s… B) the devil cannot test us without God’s permission, and C) The devil works for God, and can view God, therefore is not unclean or evil. I feel sorry for Lucifer because that’s one MAJOR bad pr job. If more people would just read the friggin book, especially Job, they’d realize that demons exist with the permission of God, and for God’s reasons…
This site is relatively accurate, except for it’s bit about the fallen ones…

M – i always wondered if i had met an angel – it was at my grandmas furneral. it was this little old lady, and when she came up to me it was like… i was suddenly at peace, comforted. then she told me that she used to be one of my grandmas friends that would quilt with her. i never saw her again.

S – That does kinda sound like an angelic encounter…

M – i think she gave me a hug

S – Yeah… there’s NOTHING like being hugged by wings.

M – i started crying at that point, i’d been trying to not to in front of all the people, cause i’d been crying alot anyways, but when she left it sortve felt like it had been released for a little while and i stopped. so what are the different thrones of angels?

S – Archangels, cupids, guardian angels, seraphim, elohim and mercurium, malakhim and here’s a site that mentions a few other thrones and what each throne does.

M – i had this friend from my online game, guild wars, that i have since cut most communication with cause it was starting to be an unhealthy relationship, but she was a rather interesting person

S – You know why I spend most of my time being invisible?

M – she thought that she had a angel for a boyfriend, and some other stuff she didnt really explain
you have a lot of people youve helped somehow, and they want more and more?

S – Because so many relationships of mine are unhealthy… people for some reason or another LOVE to cling to me.

M – i like clinging to you, but i have my own reasons for that, mainly cause your intersting and you can teach me alot

S – You’re not too bad… but I think that’s because whether I get online or not, sometimes I just… don’t feel like talking to anyone (I’m very reclusive), and so (please forgive me because I AM sorry about it) I do have a tendency to, when I don’t feel like dealing with people, ignoring them completely and deleting all their offline messages… sometimes this goes on for months on end… which means that no one gets very close.

M – An Angel does not question or contemplate itself, it simply is… thats from that site with the angel list

S – Yeah, and it’s quite true. Some sites will tell you angels have free will… they don’t.

M – i didnt think they did… Aren’t they sposed to not have emotion?

S – Angels are servents… a bit robotic… they do their jobs, they ARE their jobs, and they NEVER think of going against their nature, they never question their position, or anything. They have no emotions. This is why the myth of the fall is just that… a myth. There can’t be a war and a fall unless God orchestrated it.

M – so is a nephilim the thing that comes out of an angel and a human having sex?

S – Kinda… some nephillim are created that way, but God changed it’s mind and doesn’t approve of that way to create them anymore… nowadays, ever since Noah, the only way to create a nephillim is to take an angel and have it incarnate as a human.

M – that site’s interesting – it says that when you feel a breath of cold air sometimes brushing against you its possible that its an angel – is that true?

S – No, that’s not true… Angels are very warm… the heat goes UP in a room that an Angel is in… not to the point of being uncomfortable, but it’s noticable. GHOSTS cause the cold chills.

M – sometimes that friend thought she was an angel or something along those lines – she said she had wings a couple times. i connnected once with her to make a pain in her shoulder blades go away, she said it worked, but then almost every time i got on she would say she had a stomach ache or somethign like that and ask me to help her… and a couple times she said she was choking or stuff like that, so i started wondering if she was crazy

S – That doesn’t sound very angelic… Angels actually prefer the relationship to be the other way around… they’re more interested in helping you than getting help FROM you… they’d rather help themselves.

M – yes i didnt think she was really an angel. i dont think she acutally came out right and said she was – it was mostly just hinting

S – Did you ever see her wings?

M – she did say numerous times she had wings, no i never looked at her auric body. i dont normally – ive only looked at yours twice

S – It’s always wise to check. The proof is in the pudding, as they say… if someone hints that they are angelic, demonic, or something similar, or even comes right out and says it, always check. If you find that they are lying (and there’s no way when someone is convinced that they are telling the truth to disuade them, I promise) disconnect from them immediately and I would recommend not connecting with them after that… just because there are some people who insist they are something they are not because they have serious psychological problems… usually coupled with extremely low self esteem. People like that will use you to confirm their belief, and use you in other ways as well… and that’s really not healthy for you or them.

M – i stopped talking to her after a while, and i didnt connect with her much after she started doing the stomach ache thing – even if she was telling the truth, it was very high maintence… so your a nephilim?

S – I don’t really know for sure, to be honest. According to some, yes, according to others, no. I call myself a nephilim because they don’t have the shiniest record (having been the whole cause of the flood and whatnot) and I don’t want to get a big head just because I’ve got a set of wings on my back that occasionally comfort people but mostly just give me a lot of back problems and headaches.

M – well i know theres something about you thats definetly different… i probably wouldnt have kept contact for so long if i hadnt felt something different from most people

S – Yup, there is. I’m crazy as a bedbug.

M – most interesting people are though – if you arent even a little crazy it takes alot of the fun out of life… hey, i dont have wings do i?

S – I don’t know… I never thought to look… and now, I couldn’t tell you for sure because my eye is kinda messed up. Remind me when it’s clean again and I’ll look for you. Did you know that I’ve met at least one human being who didn’t start out with wings, but managed (through a LOT of hard work, energetically, spiritually, and materially) to grow a set and keep them? That actually gave rise to my own personal belief that if you really want to be an angel, you can become one… it’s just a long hard road to get there.

M – ive never really thought about myself, at least in those terms – i just kinda acepted that im here and i exist

S – I can probably tell you if you have wings or not (but bear in mind that lots of things that are not angels also have wings)… When you hit puberty, did you start having back problems, especially between the shoulder blades? Did your back itch constantly?

M – so are things with wings something a little more than human

S – Yes. The pain and the itching would probably have started about a year after you entered puberty… most wings begin coming out at around the age of 15 to 16.
Do you have a continuous feeling of weight on your back?
Have you ever run full tilt down a very steep incline without tripping, slowing, falling, or fear?
Do you feel that your aura is larger than a normal aura, and have you ever discovered yourself to be going too fast only to feel like something very heavy on your back suddenly slows you down?
Has anyone who really has the Sight (that is, they have given you sufficient, believable, replicable proof) suggested to you that you do, or might, have wings?
If you answered yes to most, or all of these questions… you have wings.