If we could, which would we rather see?
Age-old distillate, infant tears of the earth,
Or gem-like crystal of the inner walls
Harboring them like some fair reliquary?

Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish is to dream again
My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I`d give my everything
Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
Oh how I wish to dream again
Once and for all
And all for once

Wolf my name forevermore

I wish I had an angel
For one moment of love
I wish I had your angel
Your Virgin Mary undone
I'm in love with my lust
Burning angel wings to dust
I wish I had your angel tonight

Last night...

Last Night, I sat with an ederly gentleman at the Local Denny's.

He apperently sits there everynight. He sets up a chess board. And sits, he will read, or doodle. But sometimes people sit down and play with him.

The waitress told me he usually has regular students from the local college show up to play him. And his son comes down ever sunday from Tulsa to play.

And some nights the servers play.

Some nights...no one plays.

But he is there, Every Single Night.

So I played him. From 8....

Till 2

We talked. we played. We...were.

Around 1, the talk went towards religion. He is Church of Christ. But, as most old guys are, he was pretty...philisophical on the point. Faith that is.

He asked me where I stood on god.

And I answered.

And he asked where I stood on heaven and hell...

And I answered.

He asked me about sin, and what I thought of it.

And I told him, all sin. EVERY bit of it. Comes from one thing.

Thinking of people, as things.

ALL of it, every sin, crime, slight, or anything. Stems from thinking of people, as things.



A little while later, he asked me what I would do if instead of having to take a leap of faith, I saw undeniable proof, with my own two eyes, that Jesus existed.

I thought on it, telling him full well that I needed to think a bit and to just continue playing.

I thought about who I am, How I treat my faith now. Which...as it stands is less a religion and a guideline of life. Which is WHY I am a witch.

And...I realized something. And I told him what it was.

If I ever saw Jesus, really saw him with my own two eyes, it would be like a fever in me.

If I thought there was an almighty Christ/Jesus/Lord who gave two fucks about people like the bible says. That Watched us like a father, loved us like a mother....

There would be no room for "Well, there are two sides to every aguement you know.." Or, "Well, we have to respect the other faiths."

You would not see me just...being NICE and telling myself it would all turn out ok, not with that flame burning inside me like an unforgiving Sword.

Christians dont sacrifice people. They dont burn people at the stake. Not any more.

But you see, THAT is what true faith is. Sacrificing yourself, one day at a time, over and over to the Flame.

Living it. Speaking it. Knowing it. Being it.

Breathing the Soul of it.

Because THAT is faith.

Everything else...is just being nice.


And when I saw evil, or sinful. There would be no standing around with my arms crossed saying "Well thats a tricky debate"

There would be no debate.

There is no debate.

Then I realized. I am that way. I am on fire. I am a Light of the Goddess, as her child. She is my Mother, my father, my love.

MY soul MY Blood.

This is my path, and I walk it. And it only works, because even though the Goddess does give two fucks.

And she does Watch like the Father, and love like the Mother.

She doesnt lay down laws, she doesnt restrict.

she says one thing. "Harm None, Do what thou Wilt"

Read that again.

Read it a third time.

Think on it a while.

Its not just what the words mean by themselves...its more.

And when you get that...you know WHY I am so on fire. WHY I will help ANYONE who asks.

And you will know why MY sword in MY heart is Ever sharp. and ever sheathed.

So Mote it Fucking Be...

"This I Choose To Do"

"This I Choose to Do...

If there is a price, this I choose to pay. If it is my death, then I choose to die. Where this takes me, There I choose to go.

I Choose.

This I choose to do."

Witches live on the edges of things.

Balance.

The Balance is key. When your mind is balanced, like the fulcrum. You become the pivot to all things around you.

One side goes up, one goes down.

The center experiences neither.


I am me. I am of the trees and of the Shadows.

I tell the hills what they are, every day. I hold them in my Bones. I hold them in my Heart.

I am A Witch of this Land. It tells me who I am everyday. I am in its Rocks. I am in its Streams.

I make my Hat of the skies, and my Cloak of the wind.

And I walk in the Midnight.

Edges. Of time, of space, of land, of love, of spirit, of life...of death.

Because edges are where the push of simple WILL, can change the course of it all.

A full moon can only wane. A New moon can only Wax.

But a Half moon...

Well....you get the Idea.



See you on the Edges....

When I was younger, my dad and I used to talk alot.

He was in the Navy during the first part of my life, and continued to hold para-military carreers long after that. He also went to college in the down time, he was a history Major.

When I was 8, I got to stay with him for a longer time then usual. He was working for complany that protected factories when union workers went on strike. He was a Tac Team Commander, and he used the things he learned in history, about the greeks, and the spartans and how they used their sheilds. He taught his men how to work as a unit, using techniques severel hundred years old.

And when I was with him, he taught me. He taught me how when you are on the line, your left arm protects the man to your left, and your right strikes out for the man on your right. How each man is neither the weakest or the strongest link. The chain as a whole is not measured link by link, but together as one.

I listened as he spoke. And he would have me hold his big plexiglass sheild. I could barely lift that thing then...

He taught me about the Agoge, about The Commanche Warriors society, about all the ways soldiers had taught their young men how to become soldiers the world over.

He taught me how to use the terrain around you, he even cited the battle at Thermopoli. He told me how to use the elements, nature, weather, animals. Anything I had to overcome my opponents.

He told me about honor, discipline, justice. Brotherhood. I didnt really understand it. But I Remembered it all.

He showed me how he and his men would advance as one, and retreat as one. How each and everyone of them was important, and had to stay vigalant.

And I sat, legs mostly under that sheild, listening. Trying to memorize everything he said. Every block and move he demonstrated.

I imagined all my life what it would be like to be on that line. To train, and fight with other soldiers I knew and trusted. And to feel that rush I felt so long ago holding my fathers sheild.

When people say the movie 300 is a great movie, or a collection of senseless violence. Or whatever they say.

Its different for me.

It always will be.

And it always was.

You know...sometimes I would like to live in a box of text.

You cant make text ugly, by swooping an "r" wrong. or jumbling it together. You cant make it uneven and not sit on the page right.

When I write...it does. It just doesnt sit on the paper right. Like it doesnt wanna sit and be still. Its lead or ink. And it wants to move.

I tend to doodle sometimes.

And text...you cant type so fast other people cant read. You cant jumble your words up so that you are intelligible. You can just lay it down like so much rail-road track.

Whereas when I talk...I am too fast. Or too slow. Or I just bow out.

Box's of text may be cold and empty.

But they dont judge, they are fair.

Sometimes I wanna live in a box of text.