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{Spirit of Water}



...what the heck?
Ooookay, it published a broken one and this was... just... waiting to be published? Ugh. Well, I got it anyway. So, I'll be going back to my over-long story about what I been up to. But, first...

Okai, before I get into it, I did just want to scribble a little note in the margin here. I can't remember where I was but it said something about seeing too many people talk smack to Groot.

I can jive with that.
Too many hands on the job just creates more problems; I can take responsibility for harassing him on behalf of the community.


Okay, so. It's winter. I'm in the middle of nowhere. My girlfriend is gone. Life is weird. Now, in December, his Mom goes to Spain to visit his brother for Christmas. And, while we got the house to ourselves, I'm like, "Suppose I should start figuring out how to use all this plush, supple flesh to pay the bills." Ironically, this was an idle fantasy from when I was just preparing to transition and, kinda more distantly and deeply, something I've wanted for a long time. Started hopping on cam. Figuring out what I could do, what worked and just being a fascinating, hilarious person on the internet that's easy to talk to. I wouldn't even need to be naked, it's just easier.

And, like, I do get that I'm being kind of obnoxious right now but, I want you to really think about this. I'm the most interesting thing going on here. That's not me bragging. You're all engaged like CG is spiking the chickenfeed with valum. I'd have dissolved Congress by now. How the hell is it not time to delete that bloated obnoxious piece of digital media and figure out how to have us a clever institutional collapse?

So, yeah. Started getting used to things in my butt. This story ends with a f*kmachine.

But another thing happened around then. I happened to finish watching Madoka Magica and I was thinking about a story I can't put my finger on, at the end, then noticed on YT a PhilosophyTube video I missed from Halloween. 'Sex, Gender and Witchcraft'. Neat. Not much about magic, itself but she (now Abigail, congrats babe) recites the Witches' spell from MacBeth and it really gets on top of me. I bought Tarot cards and started messing with them, when the strangest thing should fall into my lap. Chaser's co-worker, with curious subterfuge, handed him a copy of Alester Crowley's 777. It contains an essay on Gematria, an absurdly long table of religious/alchemical correspondences that would be the backbone of his A.A. system. and a Gematric dictionary.

It's not exactly a reading book, but I started pouring through it anyway. I wasn't certain of much of what he was talking about, but I'd recognize ideas and was beginning to assemble something akin to his conceptual understanding. It was interesting, like it was written to me. There was an ironic tone that let me know not to take him or anyone too seriously. Not to get too invested in someone else's madness. There were already a few places I wasn't so sure about his bluster and maybe had better ideas. I start studying Kaballah and Astrology. Interesting cards fall out of my deck. I' really getting this stuff. I'd, in all my idle time wondering to myself, developed corollary concepts to what I was learning.

But, yeah. Crowley's problematic af. You can't inform me of things that are problematic, trying to catch me off guard. I'm Rank SS+ Woke. I'm on to you. Fascist.

And then one night, while I'm on cam, a familiar stray Catt carefully approached me. I knew it was her. I knew that all the times I'd worried she was miserable and alone with her self-loathing, I had been right. She would only be here if it were killing her to stay away. So much pride. All the things I had noted that, if she did come back, I would need to hear to consider it is what came out of her mouth. She just wanted to apologize, even if nothing else. I told her I would consider it but we would need to take it slow. We had to go back and unpack everything a few times, but she was able to own her part. She's slipped here and there, but she is receptive and not resentful.

We moved back to Minneapolis the first day of Quarrantine. I began developing chakra meditative practices and mapping them into the Tree of Life. Turns out this is quite similar to the Golden Dawn's 'Middle Pillar' method. Gotten quite good at it. I've gone to some wild places in meditation. Around this time, I begin studying the Tree of Death and using it as a method of intense personal inquiry upon the edges of madness in order to better understand the madness that is being.

If I didn't entirely believe in what I was doing before, though, I would.

I was meditating before a Tarot read one day and, it occurred to me, if all three of the cards came up as Minor Arcana Numbered cards.. I could check the Gematria dictionary. Sure enough. 4-5-4. I finished the reading, though it was inconsequential at this point. The 777 entry lists two Hebrew words; one, meaning sign or sigilium and the other more cryptic.

The "Holy Ones"; Consecrated catamites kept by the preisthood.

Know what a sign is, I'm on to something but not sure about 'catamites'. The Wiki entry described, basically, twinks the aristocracy in Rome and Greece. Neat but not paydirt. But, then, it was a Hebrew term. How would THEY have understood it. Looked up a goddamned 1909 Hebrew to English Lexicon of the Old Testament.

Jackpot.

"These wreched beings were preists or temple-servants of Astarte at Hierapolis in Syria; and having been emasculated and wearing a female dress, they wandered about through the cities and villages and bearing with them an image of the goddess. They were courted by females and gave themselves up to unnatural lusts."

And here, at the end of this strange little path, in this old ass book written, with the barely contained contempt of someone who was very f'king obviously jelly, my people waited for me and my Goddess, Astarte, called me to her service. Astarte correlates with what we'd recognize as Venus, though was the Goddess of War as well as Love. And it all clicked into place. My birthchart and it's remarkably close alignment of Mercury, Jupiter and Pluto... in Libra, ruled by Venus. The passions of my reason, of justice and of ultimate truths. Great gifts, but all curses until I balanced the scale for myself and embraced my sacred feminine.

And, as I looked upon the duty she tasked me with, in the foreboding light of this sleepy, young Apocalypse. I began to think of chaos and collapse and disorder.

One day, walking the couple blocks back from the store with Catt at around 1 in the morning, there's a dude that keep going back and forth and trying to get a lighter or whatever out of whoever is around.

Eventually he comes up behind us and mumbles indistinctly. A moment. And he speaks up, asking for a lighter. She says she doesn't have one. I'm satisfied the question is answered. We keep walking. He keeps jiving about some shit. This is going to be a problem. We keep walking and be starts becoming irate that I didn't talk to him. I give him some additude, let him know this don't fluster me and tell him I don't owe strange dudes a damn 'Hello' at 1 in the fuckin morning. We go up the steps as he's shouting in front of the building.

I'm just about to put the key in the second lock and then I hear it.

"Fa***ts"

Oh, f'k no. Not in front of my house. He's gonna know not to come back here.

Back out the door, "What the f'k was that?"

Ranting about [slurs] not respecting him and saying 'Hello'.

I reamed him with the intensity he'd probably gotten from his girlfriend, last time he had one. Thing about people out on the streets is if they think you look out of place, they maybe see if they can get you flustered. I'm sure you bring the right kind of energy asking for a cigarette with some people and they're liable to hand you their wallet in a panic. Serves em right, anyway. It's the racists that get all f'ked up and freaked out.

I dunno what was up with this boy, though. Just got his dick tied to it, I guess. Should have figured out I'm not the mousy little qu**r he assumed about the time I started yelling at him like his damn mother. Stomping all around the yard acting like a damned fool. Feigns like he's got a gun in his back pocket and bae just calls him right out. Then he's coming up the steps with... perhaps a penknife? Literally, if he had anything, I couldn't see it. Lean back and wave it away like a fly, 'Get that shit outta my face.'

Something's gonna have to give. He isn't walking away from a couple of trans that told him to stuff it and I'm not scurrying into my apartment to hide from the big scary black man. Finally he decides on his play and snaps a peice of brick off the ground and flings it at me, but I just turn and it tags my back a little.

I turn again. Scary look now. He look concerned.

"You MOTHERF'KER"

I tear ass after him and he leans down for a second round. I duck that shit and try to go after him... but then wardrobe reality sets in. Ballet flats and big stompy boots are not ideal for chasing after a motherfucker. He's gone anyway. I managed to catch some damn nasty road rash slipping on the sidewalk.

Didn't call the cops.
Didn't say anything untoward.
Baby did start trying to turn an AIDS comment he'd made back around, but I stopped her. Not even then. Not ever. Not us.

The next day, George Floyd was murdered by the Minneapolis police.
Unless you're really into Government slapping you with it's sweaty, slimy, smegma glazed dick. Then it was justifiable.

Okay, there might be more parts to this than I was figuring.
Guess how far I live from Lake Street?

NOT FAR

Λιλιθ Απολλύων
High Priestess of Astaroth in Darkness
Prophet of The God-Emperor Dio Brando