I Feel The Sunshine – By Silenced

The book this crept from is available for free online.


DEAR ELLIS, or should I call you LS? Or Eris?

Discordia? Loki? Coyote? I don’t know anymore.

It has been so long since I cared to see your face.

More that I was content to know that you were out there,

somewhere in the deep, somewhere in the now. Beyond what

pittance of awareness I could muster.

 

This is how people feel when they are in the presence

of real power. They know that they don’t know shit, and that

fact scares them, inspires them, infuses them with a terrible

certainty and determination to ride shotgun on the long hard

road to who-knows-where. It makes them defiant, too.

I have been so long from you. Wrapped in the

pleasantly smothering embrace of family and career. It strikes

me as something of import that I implicitly want to keep you

from my children. I wonder often why that is.

I wonder.

 

Is it perhaps that they are being raised magical?

 

Perhaps as such they have little need of you. At least for now.

It should be said that I am afraid of you. Yes, my love, there

is fear in me at what your intimate presence in our lives

would do to my children. That is part of your allure, your

promise, and your price. I paid it happily for a long time, and

now I am reluctant to do so again.

 

I know what you cost.

 

I miss you, and though we dance on occasion, I

accept that such dalliance is too few and far between to

overly affect the LS web, as these days I only fight the battles

that find me.

 

Why is it MY job to concern myself with everyone

else? Or the world? Or reality? Or anything?

 

It is a silly and petulant question to ask of course, and

that too I understand. Destiny is everything and nothing.

Time gives no shit about fate, nor does fate concern itself

with time. Now is now.

 

What is the point of what we are doing? Ha! As if I

even comprehended the extent to which we all move and

ripple through reality. We have started something, and have

no idea where it is going or what we will reap from it.

Is everyone capable of a higher understanding? Does

it matter? Won’t our baser selves win out using the weapons

of greed, avarice, and excess? Who cares about sacred

mountains when we can have cellphones and fossil fuels?

My own culture has been found lacking, as it has for

every human who has walked with heavy medicine. My world,

from the Stone Age to the Information Age rewards the

selfish organisms, so we push against this seemingly natural

law, and at the end of the day isn’t every act of LS magick a

sublime union of survival and community in the face of such

horror?

 

Yes, of course it is.

 

This is why you are important. Give it long enough

and you’ll be a god simply because nobody will remember

that we invented you.

 

Paper-thin people and the paper-thin walls they build

around themselves, that is our world. I have to respect it

because that is how human beings have always crafted

Consensual Reality. It is in our nature to seek comfort and to

hoard in excess. We are selfish creatures, and we build

cultures, economies, and belief systems to support this kind

of behavior.

 

The marauders are the freaks, and maybe in a

different time or culture we would be the shamans of our

people, unless no matter where you stick us we end up the

sorcerers on the fringe.

 

We want more for the world than a ceaseless back

and forth of resources and control over others. We just want

to be free, don’t we? And because of how the world is, we

seem to think that setting those who control us free is the

path to take?

 

Isn’t that what we are doing?

 

We imagine ourselves waking up the Sleepers. We see

ourselves as the bringers of wonder and terror to the huddled

masses of soulless suits and soccer moms, don’t we?

Be honest.

 

When we tag the LS and use the sigil we are imagining

a cavalcade of stereotypes who will be affected by our power,

and by increments we seek to change the world.

 

Problem is, the world is the world. People are shitty

to each other, and no matter how much magick we throw at

the problem we are still human beings. Deep down we know

we can’t win.

 

My point is that this isn’t about winning. It’s about

fighting. It’s about stepping up.

 

Without people like us the human race becomes a

depressing tragedy of inequality and atrocity. We need

shamans, healers, and sacred clowns so that there is an

equilibrium with the aristocrats, oligarchs, and tyrants.

It all comes back to that, and goddammit, I am so

tired.

 

I am bloody and beaten and broken.

 

But there are people around me to pick me up.

People who lift me out of the mud and put the fire back into

my hands. This isn’t about you and me, Ellis, and I see that

now.

 

 

Survival and Community.

Magick is Real.

Let’s fucking do this.

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