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Taiania · Posted 07-04-2011, 12:22 PM

I used a little job attraction pouch before. It's a little green blessed pouch with a hair from your head and a coin in it. You carry it around until your prospects improve then bury it . It's simple but it works.

Now onto a long post. Today I want to talk about personal experiences. I'll start as it's only fair. (Warning, these may be long and contain bad language. They also contain themes younger readers may find distressing. )

Let's start with : The good.

The bad.

This one for me is almost as bad as it can possibly get. When I was in college my aunt and cousins came to visit. I'll remove their names but , there was a little girl we'll call A (she was ten at the time) , a boy we'll call J (Nine) and his little brother O (Who was six). They were playful and fearless as little kids usually are, though it was harmless. Though I live far away from them I was their best friend. A even calling me her other sister. We were a close family. One night, as we were leaving O sat on my nan's stair-lift, gave me an oddly calm look, smiled softly, and said "Bye." An unusually short and calm goodbye from a boy that spent most of his time bouncing off the walls. I thought nothing of it and left. The next morning we got a call. O had been in an accident. He had fallen into the mechanism of the chairlift and cracked his skull. His brother and A were distraught and in shock, so they came to my house. We tried to sooth them with kind words but me and my mother knew the truth. My uncle, a paramedic, had revived the little boy twice but it was not to be. He died that day, watched over by his mother and father. You may be asking why this has anything to do with paganism. Please read on.
I spent the next week in a haze of rage and depression. Asking the gods why. It felt so meaningless. Then they gave me a little something to help me understand. They reminded me how the lift used to put on the emergency brake if a towel so much as brushed the mechanism. This wasn't right. I soul searched pushing out my anger towards the press that hounded my grieving family and found an outside influence.
The inquest found no fault with the safety of the machine so it was deemed a freak accident and purely accidental. There was a "Ghost in the machine" or more a malicious spirit. It is as close to what I would call a demon as could be and it had stolen a life. I cried at O's funeral and watched them return the small coffin to the earth. A rush of ivy leaves covered the mourners as he said goodbye to me. The worst part of all this is the being got away with it. It left a deep scar on my heart and it knows it.
My nan blames herself, but I blame myself more, and our family is nowhere near as close as it was any more. I can't tell my family what I know and I doubt it would help them if I did.
So, as a bitter sweet ending for you all I'd like to tell you that he still visits and plays tricks, still says hello once in a while and is happy.

The ugly.

Well that's mine. How about you?

Taiania Resistance agent		The good, the bad and the ugly.	#2083
	I used a little job attraction pouch before. It's a little green blessed pouch with a hair from your head and a coin in it. You carry it around until your prospects improve then bury it . It's simple but it works. Now onto a long post. Today I want to talk about personal experiences. I'll start as it's only fair. (Warning, these may be long and contain bad language. They also contain themes younger readers may find distressing. ) Let's start with : The good. Well this one's short but fun. On an afternoon off from school me and a friend were chilling out. Suddenly I had an urge to walk north. Feeling like we had all the time in the world we went for it and walked the way my mind told me. We ended up in local woodland, near an avenue of trees. As we wandered through we saw an archway in the hedges at the end. It was bright and sunny beyond the arch unlike the dreary day that we were standing in. We went for it, ducking under the archway and finding another part of the forest, cris crossed with badger paths. It was beautiful, the flowers in full bloom, birds singing and butterflies flitting. I remember them most as they were red but their wings were edged with iridescent blue. Fully energised we left in a better mood than we'd been in in months. The bad. This one for me is almost as bad as it can possibly get. When I was in college my aunt and cousins came to visit. I'll remove their names but , there was a little girl we'll call A (she was ten at the time) , a boy we'll call J (Nine) and his little brother O (Who was six). They were playful and fearless as little kids usually are, though it was harmless. Though I live far away from them I was their best friend. A even calling me her other sister. We were a close family. One night, as we were leaving O sat on my nan's stair-lift, gave me an oddly calm look, smiled softly, and said "Bye." An unusually short and calm goodbye from a boy that spent most of his time bouncing off the walls. I thought nothing of it and left. The next morning we got a call. O had been in an accident. He had fallen into the mechanism of the chairlift and cracked his skull. His brother and A were distraught and in shock, so they came to my house. We tried to sooth them with kind words but me and my mother knew the truth. My uncle, a paramedic, had revived the little boy twice but it was not to be. He died that day, watched over by his mother and father. You may be asking why this has anything to do with paganism. Please read on. I spent the next week in a haze of rage and depression. Asking the gods why. It felt so meaningless. Then they gave me a little something to help me understand. They reminded me how the lift used to put on the emergency brake if a towel so much as brushed the mechanism. This wasn't right. I soul searched pushing out my anger towards the press that hounded my grieving family and found an outside influence. The inquest found no fault with the safety of the machine so it was deemed a freak accident and purely accidental. There was a "Ghost in the machine" or more a malicious spirit. It is as close to what I would call a demon as could be and it had stolen a life. I cried at O's funeral and watched them return the small coffin to the earth. A rush of ivy leaves covered the mourners as he said goodbye to me. The worst part of all this is the being got away with it. It left a deep scar on my heart and it knows it. My nan blames herself, but I blame myself more, and our family is nowhere near as close as it was any more. I can't tell my family what I know and I doubt it would help them if I did. So, as a bitter sweet ending for you all I'd like to tell you that he still visits and plays tricks, still says hello once in a while and is happy. The ugly. I don't know whether this could class as the bad too but her we go. Over my time I've seen many spirits, some good, some bad and some that couldn't care less if I was there or not. And some, well they were terrifying. These beings we shall call imps. They are corrupter's, they spread a type of darkness through people. I'd like to mention that they are neither good nor evil. They have no real intent. They visit in dreams and one touch can leave you slowly turning into one of them . They are coal skinned humanoid creatures with no hair but pointed ears. They walk on all fours and have long claws on their hands and feet. These beings are also genderless and keep their human eyes. Luckily when I encountered them they didn't touch me. I spent the whole dream curled up, shivering and shrieking for my life. Well that's mine. How about you?
		Posted 07-04-2011, 12:22 PM