27 February 2008
Peacock Dreaming

So, last night was.

I spent much of yesterday physically pulling myself, with the help of the service slut and Rose, out of the muck of my soul. It was nasty. By late night, I realized that I needed to spend some serious time in the center of *I*, to get some truths under my belt about how to move forward concerning two oaths I have sworn, and received in turn.

For those who don’t know, I have this ridiculously heavy ass collar that was forged for me by a spirit worker who I respect greatly. Its function- to keep the manifested spirit inside a body present and unable to harm anything in the physical realm. Not the body its manifesting inside, not anyone outside it either. Plus, to not be able to move from the circle where it was locked in place. This was originally forged to deal with one very specific being, and it served its purpose for that specific working to a T. It is an ensouled item, and thus has its own awareness which is amusing to live in a house with sometimes. Nothing like a different ensouled item that lives in my house, but that is not my tale to tell. Yes, this collar is in my will.

So, for the first time ever, I wore the collar myself last night. I had known since I received it that it would allow me to do what I did last night (force me to stay self-possessed until I took it off), and it was interesting to realize that for the first time last night, first time in years, I had no jewellery of any sort on as soon as the collar came off. None. I am still devoid of any jewellery. Everything I was wearing is now on my bedside table, and will stay there at least until tomorrow.

I needed to be bare. I need to be bare. I need to go into conversations today with an open heart and an open mind around oaths, and that includes removing items tied to oaths that are not inked into my flesh. And yes, oaths owed to a dead man- 2 months down, 10 to go. Oaths sworn to Bear very much in tact.

Back to me, rather than the universal *I*, I laid down to sleep. My sleep schedule had gone nocturnal, I had not eaten beyond a nibble a day, and had stopped doing much of anything. This stopped last night, breaking fast with tasty green beans and horseradish garlic mashed potatoes. I laid down to sleep at 1am, a shock as I’d only been up since 4pm.

Right hand masturbation is mine. Pleasure, simple, yum. I can not cum for fun with my left hand. Its reserved for magical working, which surprises me not one bit as I have this big ass tattoo on my left palm of a pentacle, 2 points towards the fingers, that faded physically as the ink rejected, but stayed elsewise. As I lay there, in that space between sleepfulness and waking, it came to me.

More accurately, Melek Ta’us, The Peacock Angel.

I’ve met other deities before, but this was, I’m not sure how to describe.

Have no idea what I am talking about?

Also, a peek into this Feri stuff that keeps popping up in my universe over the past 2 years that is yanking harder:
(where the personification of god as youth, blue man, wears peacock feathers in his hair as connection to Melek Ta’us)

His claws dug into the heart of the planet, spinning gold, spinning iron. The tips of his eye-feathers dusted the heavens with a smile, for I could feel the heavens smiling and opening up their thighs. Its eyes were lit with blue flame behind black iridescence, cold, but inviting. He called me forward to masturbate upon him, and in time I did, after weighing the world out with the eyes on me, the waves on me, letting my gills breathe deep and know this was good.

When I stood afterwards before him, I was as tall as he was, and my claws dug into the heart of the planet, spinning gold, spinning iron. The tips of my fingers as I stretched dusted the heaven with a smile, and I could see the heavens laugh at this. But my eyes were my own, ocean gray, and I kissed Melek Ta’us on his cheek/side of his beak and left him to his ways. He bowed his head then stood taller then before, and I shrank back to my own size as I made my way back to my flesh that had been playing out this dance on its own terms, left hand to my twat, while I was gone but was still present.

My brandings are many symbols. They are 7 waves each, each time my body being pulled down, each time my hands always above the waves to pull me back up. Never unable to come up for air, but knowing that I can breathe underwater. Every 7 years I have had a breakdown, and last year was no exception, and in its magical numbering it is a reminder of this. Every 7 years we replace our cells, and mine reset. It is lined up with the 6th brand on my right arm, my 13 strikes towards manhood. Each wave has an eye in its crest, and the imagery was pulled from the artwork of Argus, the giant who slept as Io fled from Hera’s hold, whose thousand eyes were removed from him for having slept and put upon the peacock. To be always vigilant. Vigilance, awareness, and signal clarity. Hands above the waves, let my body see what I can not see, grant me 14 more eyes, let me know what needs to be known so that my work might be done.

Thus I am not surprised, 6 weeks later, to have peacocks at my door.

But I can feel that blue flame still, not inside, but just… near. And I think on this, and keep my eyes open.