Enjoy the Silence

This morning I woke up in an oddly nonprecarious state. My alarm hadn't gone off yet. All of the windows and doors were open for the cool air to move freely throughout my apartment. The cat was nowhere to be found, and when I pulled on my glasses, I had ink drying on my hands from the night before. My skin didn't hurt. My legs didn't feel sore. My mind felt perfectly clear. And not a single sound could be heard, even Tuscany's usual chirps fell silent when she hopped up to say hello.

It's an eerie feeling to wake up to an empty home after so many months without. But its not uncomfortable. There is freedom in the quiet spaces, sollace in the minutes I can spend making coffee and doing the dishes while it percolates where my neighbors have all gone to work, the birds have left the birch for other trees, and even the construction crew at the park (who I'm still certain were building a Trojan rabbit) have gone elsewhere.

I am a noisy creature by trade. I listen to pop music at loud volume to write articles, I put on a mix called Songs to Fight and Fuck To in the shower, (its an Erica Reyes mix in case you were curious), and when I'm stressed out or overworked my first defense is to put on the song in my bones and sing it as loud as humanly possible without going off key. And yet there is something about complete and utter solitude that makes me pause, beckons me to close my eyes and breathe deep just to take it all in, as if the silence is a vast perfection which visits only rarely, and must be cherished as much as possible before it slips away as quietly and unknowingly as it appeared.

The past few months have been a whirlwind of change. I've been diagnosed with a chronic skin condition that forced me to turn my already healthy eating habits on it's head. As a result, I've lost 18 pounds I didn't even know I had, and I may never be able to have alcohol again (sugars of any kind are my kryptonite). My roommate moved out rather suddenly, leaving me to rethink my personal quandaries as well as my entire financial set-up.

I have finally finished the first novel of the Sigil series. It stands as the second novel manuscript ever to be completely finished. I'm still not tired of it. I keep hearing Love Run's Out and I can think of nothing but Azazel and all I want to do is go back. Maybe by the third or seventh novel in this eight book series I'll get tired of him, but here were are three years later, and I am still as enamored with the world of the Sigil series as I was that manic day in my apartment when angels and demons sat on my shoulders.

I have also finally opened my Teen Wolf shop with my darling Manda, Patched & Smacked. The first line of engraved bracelets and handmade patches is up for sale, with new styles and pieces being added to constantly. I have sitting in my kitchen now metal that is just waiting to be hammered out, as well as professionally printed patches which will be up for sale by the end of the month. I look forward to adding necklaces and earrings into the engraved jewelry collection, as well as leather pieces for that hard rock/punk as fuck edge too. If you're going to Howlercon, look for us in the vendor's market. We're happy to take on custom requests too, be it patches, jewelry, or even your very own punk ass werewolf vest. If you can dream it, we can make it. 

Somehow among all of this, I have still managed to get into graduate school and even get something like a promotion at work. I have been accepted into Drexel and am waiting to see what Clarion thinks of me. Either way, I will be attending one of these top ten tech-info sci schools in the beginning of next year to start working on my Masters in Library Sciences. 

So what's next then? Hopefully some sugar-free/dairy-free baking experiments once I get comfy again, maybe an SD skin care overview for the curious few, new playlists I have had brewing for ages which will hopefully end up on 8tracks and not just as another sticky note on my desktop, some voodoo, more shop items, and for my next fic- nerd ass werewolf comedy. Stick around, its gonna be a wild ride. 

Creep and the Great Candida Cleanse of 2014

Today marks the first day of week three of Hell, otherwise known as The Candida Cleanse diet. I have spent the past month poring through everything from unhelpful medical articles to a bevy of youtubers and finally found help from a young man from Boston about ridding my face of SD or serborrheic dermatitis by actually getting the culprit behind it out of my body.

As it turns out, the horrible red flaky itchy burning hell that exists on my face, neck, patches on my hand, and tiny red dot that I glare at daily on the bend of one elbow, is all just a symptom of a large issue in my intestinal tract. Which makes absolute sense, as I have digestive problems that I wrote off as simply stress related that have since cleared up within the first week of the diet.

But the candida diet is no easy task. To get the candida or yeast out of your intestines, you have to go on rigid 2-stage 12 week diet of absolutely no sugars, no starches, no dairy. This means no fresh fruit, no breads, no potatoes, and absolutely no yogurt or cheese. Gluten and sugars are the enemy. The first week was the most exhausted I have ever felt in my entire life, as my body went through the agonizing sugar withdrawal coupled with carbohydrate cravings and a mouthwatering desire for all things dairy. I can smell a banana being opened from the over side of my apartment, and was horrified that I knew from across my parents gigantic kitchen the moment my mother opened a gelato cup by the smell of many many grams of sugar wafting my way. I eat a lot of cucumbers, almonds, and celery with almond butter. Also plain probio yogurt which you could substitute for sour cream and no one would know the difference.

The worst part about it is that the results are not instant. However, the facial creams for these conditions cause skin cancer and can't be applied where my case is generalized, as it could cause glaucoma and cataracts, such is the nasty nature of steroids. However, I can feel it beginning to clear up. I'm throwing everything at the wall. I drink Detox by Yogi, Echinea Tea, take an army of vitamins every morning and neem leaves throughout the day, and have a new facial regimine that actually takes the itch out and no longer gives me the urge to claw my face off on a daily basis.

If you suffer from SD or any dermatitis, here's what you should know:

1. Stop eating sugars and drinking alcohol now. 
2. Salt water and sunlight are your new best friends.
3. Drink echinea tea like its going out of style.
4. Ladies, your period will make you flare up like fucking hell. 
5. Don't freak out when products burn your skin. Everything is going to burn right now. Your skin is an open wound and its PH is completely off-kilter. Fucking water burns mine right now, but it will fade in a few minutes and if you use the right products, they will work.
6. Scented products are now the devil to you, and in fact always have been. If it says perfume on the list, toss it. 
7. Anything with calamine and tea tree oil are you best friends.

I had to stop using most of my PC products because they simply were not helping, and found astonishingly good results with this routine:

1. Anti-fungal shampoo, use as directed by your doctor or everyday if you feel you need to. I use ketoconazole shampoo, but you can use Selsun Blue for sensitive skin (look for the green cap)
2. Fresh Farmacy by Lush. (calamine based that has truly worked to take the burn/itch away)
3. Tea Tree Spray Toner by Luch (many good anti-fungal ingredients in this)
4. 2% BHA Gel by Paula's Choice. (this will burn like a fucker, but I swear to you it works. This will keep your pores from clogging, and has given me smooth skin despite the red patches)
5. Gold Bond Ultra Healing. (Teeny tiny amounts. The only thing I've found that keeps my skin moisturized all day long. 100% scent free goodness)

So basically thats what I've been up to for the past month. Expect posts about my adventure with Dermazinc, the supposed miracle product that should be in my hands tomorrow, as well as healthy homemade cheap as fuck popsicles. and other candida-free edibles. I will also be posting more Sigil soon, as I'm still plugging away at the first draft, new shop announcements, and forays into Camp Nano next month.
For my incessant bitching and moaning throughout the Hell Cleanse, you can simply visit my tumblr and tag track (or blacklist as you feel) Creep beats SD 2k14.

I hope everyone had a happy Summer Solstice, and if times are rough, just remember, Teen Wolf starts TOMORROW. :D

Confessions of a Workaholic

My name is Suzanne Lahna, and I am addicted to progress. I feel constantly the need to keep working, keep moving, keep pressing forward. For the longest time, this has been a habit I could deal with. I don't sleep a lot, I don't go out much, but I've been fairly content this way for the longest time.

However, in the past few months, its finally begun to take its toll. Now I am rocking a delightful new array of painful medical problems, all of which only have one common factor- stress.

I've known I had TMD or temporomandibular jaw disorder for quite some time, but about a month ago it really ramped up and made my life a living hell. It didn't progress gradually, like I always figured it would when I read about it at work. I was fine one evening, going out on a long night walk after a glass of wine and another finished deadline. When I woke up the next morning my jaw hurt so badly I couldn't open it to swallow pulverized frozen peaches. I ended up grabbing one jaw with each hand and wrenching them open with a sound like a gun shot. I have yet to go in for treatment because I have no idea how much it will cost me, and I really just hate fighting with doctors over my wisdom teeth, which have grown in without any complications. I have a big mouth, I just also have a tendency to clench my jaw during anxiety spikes and I normally chew gum like a fiend.

I still really miss gum.

Now I also have a skin condition known as soborrheic dermatitis, which I have apparently had all of my life but have never had a flare up of until now. The only known causes of which are hormones, cold and dry weather, and stress. My skin after a week of the new meds is starting to clear up, though today it looks likes its trying to take a step back.

Essentially, stress is now actually beginning to physically affect my life. Hence my not blogging for the past month. I'm struggling to balance it all out. I'm fighting to demand more of others, rather than picking up the slack in silence like I have been while my brain tells me I literally do not have time to take care of everything. This space will either be very quiet or very noisy over the next few days while I figure it all out. There is much to do and a great deal to decide on, but I know that once I find a groove I'll be even better than ever.

It's all about sunshine, deep breaths, and words that relax and excite in equal measure.

The Sunday Confessional

I confess, first off, that I tried to find a cool image of my tag for these posts on tumblr, To This Madness I Confess, but I am impatient this "morning" so instead you get:

CONFESSION #12

I don’t work out because I feel some drive to be healthy, I honestly do it because I love the feel of it. I love when muscles ache from being pushed to the limit, I love being able to physically alter myself just by shoving my own weight around. And I really fucking love the feeling of my core right now, so warm and buzzing, like a cat just slept on it for four hours.

I love moving, I love being active, and I love seeing what my body can do once I figure out how.

I am probably a little bit addicted to endorphins, but there are worse things in life, so I take what I can get.

CONFESSION #15

I get consumed by ideas sometimes. Its a happy consumption. I live for it, really. But often times others take it personally, when the truth is I’m not shutting them out at all.

I’ve just been swallowed up.

In these times I forget and forego all else. Responsibilities? Gone. Eating? Forget about it. Answering my phone? Not gonna happen. 

These are the moments when the creative regions of my mind seem to take over and halt all other actions that are not directed or used for the project at hand. 

And there is no personal company or romantic interest that can match their power or ecstasy. 

I am addicted completely and ardently and will chase their rush, their madness, their perfect clarity, until the day I die. 

CONFESSION #16

I really just want an evil boyfriend. I thought this desire would go away if I talked to someone about it with someone, and really, its only gotten worse.

Not at all ashamed of it, just figured I’d warn guys, if you’re for some reason interested in this muscle-building 5’5” lady of creep and madness, I hope you’re older and morally ambiguous and actually intelligent enough to conquer your life and have a shot at conquering mine.

Gods, the challenge of that, the ecstasy of it, and the idea of someone being gentle to you who would otherwise be vicious to all others…

I’ll be in my bunk.

No Moral Compass Pointing North

The past week I have spent taking a break on the mountain top where the beautiful and brilliant Manda Marie resides. Here the air is crisp, the people are few, and the energy is so peaceful I feel lulled into perfect harmony such that I fall asleep with ease every night. Clear air to clear thoughts giving my far greater mental clarity. We have laughed, we have cried, we've fought with others and drank wine on the kitchen floor to keep a watchful eye on the cookies while they baked. 

I see and feel Kaijana far more closely once again, and with it I know my wants and desires greater than ever before. I know I want my next lover to be someone older, I mean well so. I want someone who is confident and sure of themselves, who knows what they want out of life, and will do what is necessary to get it. I'm tired of coddling others. It feels as if I'm always waiting for men my age to catch up and rise to my level.

 I know now where I want to go in the immediate future, and what I would be happy with. It's a little unnerving through, because I truly don't care about letting go and shedding my self of the world I am currently in entirely. If I could get up and go tomorrow, I would. I will put myself first, wholly and perhaps even selfishly, but I feel absolutely no guilt for that. I will do what I must, and I can't control how that affects others, so I resolve to stop worrying about it. 

Oh Lord, I'm sinkin in
The earth is rising and I've
Lost my feet again
I reach for my roots but they just
Slip, slip slip
From my
Grip, grip grip
And the mud and the grit
Is stealin my hard-won breath

Oh Lord, where do I begin?
Shall I confess the story of my sins?
How do I would step
On the heads of my
Family and friends
I don't believe in kindess
I'm sickened by righteousness
And I'd sell my soul for a devil's son
Whose smile shines only for me
I'll fight dirty for my place
But my niceties dig deep
And tear away my dreams
Oh they slip, slip slip
From my fingertips
And the quick sand
Swallows my screams

Oh Lord, what must I become
Must I grow claws
To dig myself out
Shift into another beast
To set myself free
I will shed my skin
And trade my charity
For something more fitting
Of claws and teeth
Sharpened for violence
And a smile made for war
Oh Lord, it would seem
The only way out is to be
The monster my mama
Always said I truly be
                              -l.c.

I have no moral compass, pointing north. But I have southern longings in me, and I will go wherever they may lead me. 

Looking Back and Moving Forward

First off, allow me to deeply apologize for letting this space go quiet for so long. Alas, I never do anything halfway, so when I lose control of my life, I tend to do so completely and thoroughly in every way possible. Eating junkfood, extraneous spending, not working out, and generally slacking off in literally every area of life save for writing fanfic, which I am here to tell you has currently swallowed me up for the past few weeks.

I'm not sure if daylight savings time has simply rebooted me to set me free, or if ranting Manda's ear off about it all day got it out of my system, or if my current state of zombie has simply dulled the portion of my brain that contains my creative madness. Either way, I woke up this morning feeling groggy and awful and slightly anxious, so more like myself than I have since the plot bunny consumed my mind. 

Here's what been going down in the interim.

Writing. Fanfiction, and lots of it. I haven't touched Sigil in weeks. I tell myself to, and then I don't, and its awful and the anxiety builds and reminds me Hey Asshole Its Nearly Mid March And You Aren't Even At 50K What The Fuck Have You Been Doing? I need to be chained to this novel and not allowed near AO3 until I write 1k a day. Which is really a pitiful amount to shoot for. My cat could write more. 

Reading. This is how you know its been bad. The latest novel in my favorite series came out, and I managed to snag a copy for my Kindle until I can afford a nice touchable version. This mobi file currently sits two pages deep behind a sea of fanfic that is so thoroughly twisted that I seriously cannot even tell you about it. Go on my tumblr if you wish, otherwise, just know I read and ship very bad awful things. If I felt guilt over anything I might feel it for this, but thank the Gods I got rid of that emotion years ago.

Listening. Ghouls by the Scientists gets stuck in my head in equal amounts with Everybody Loves Me by OneRepublic, and Strictly Rude by Big D And The Kids Table, and Arabella by the Arctic Monkeys, and Bring the Noize by MIA. I have been listening to everything under the sun. A lot of time spent on 8tracks listening to mixes based around my favorite Teen Wolf characters or just badass mixes. Currently, I am listening to the same Hole cd I first heard when I was think 8.

Nommages. Lots of no good very bad things. Pizza. Potatoes. Chips and guacamole. Manda was great about being  my food fairy while she was here the past week or so though, so I don't feel too bad about a bit of junkfood habits when our main meals consist largely of delicious vegetables. Vegetarian cooking is the laziest thing in existence, and if I had the money to afford their protein substitutes in order to keep on track with my muscle-building plan, I probably would just to eat dinner in 10 minutes or less. 

Actions. Manda took me running and for the first time my knees didn't feel like they wanted to die and my lungs did not actively try to strangle me. I need to get in the habit of going more often. Its all about pacing, which I suck at, but I can't get better at until I try. Otherwise, my workout schedule has become so many shades of fuck, I haven't even started on the Old Ones line, and I don't think I've seen my jaguar in days. *headdesk* 

Inner-words. I want desperately to move forward with every once of my being. Every morning and every night I long only for the succinct and firm knowledge that I have done everything in my power to advance myself in every walk of life. The fear that I'm not doing enough and that I'm screwing up is one that rides my mind painfully and completely, but I'm determined to shake it off by lifting weights, swinging hammers, making words, and doing my damn job well. This morning I thought all the way back to my screwed-up childhood via listening to Hole to realize just how far I've come already, if only to quiet my anxiety at least a little bit. I want it all, and so I need to give it all right back. This simply becomes very difficult to do when my attention span flits all over the place like a feather on the ocean shore in storm winds. 

Expect words on Wednesday, a new blog layout, new and beautiful shop photos, and maybe a new tarot spread post. 

Also me trying 1000x harder at this thing called Moving Forward.

It sort of feels like pushing one of those linebacker hit thingies filled with cinder blocks, forcing me to dig in and heave and throw all of my effort into gaining every single inch. 

But I know the end result will be deeply satisfying. 

Life Lessons (a post inspired by Manda Marie)

1. Don't listen to fucking assholes. Just don't. Walk away. Make them run away if possible. Then have a peach cause you are one.
2. Don't fucking apologize for shit that you don't feel sorry for. Cackle maniacally. Throw back your shoulders. Hold your head high. Think murder. And walk. When they ask why you aren't sorry, continue to cackle like the glorious beast you truly are until they run away with their tail between their legs.
3. Be yourself. Even if it's terrifying. Especially if its terrifying. 
4. Making out in your kitchen is always a good idea. Making out near your glass of wine is not. Or next to your altar of bones and the slain bodies of your enemies. 
5. There is a time for being nice, and smudging your house from the negative energy that shitty people bring into it is not it. 
6. You are under no obligation to defend your personal beliefs or emotions. You have every given right to politely tell them to get the hell out. Or not politely. With a weapon of some sort.
   -I prefer a personal item of said asshole and random chanting in a preferably made-up language.
7. When someone tries to get you down, just imagine yourself rising about them. Six feet above them.
8. You don't have to be any type of gender-associated thing that anyone or any post tells you to be. Even mine. Be a tree, be a werewolf, be a goddamn unicorn. Anytime you hear the words "You don't have to be," just stop and sing your anthem as loud as you please. Or just howl. 
9. There are zero negative consequences to cutting or dying your hair. Snarl aggressively at anyone who suggests otherwise. Maintain the posture of a pissed off jaguar for maximum effect. 
10. The answer to every situation you are not currently 100% okay with can be found in bad puns and snark. Dramatic and awkward conversation? Make a bad pun. Intense break-up? Make a really bad pun. Really shitty moment with people who pretend to care for you, but are actually just fucking assholes with shitty selfish intentions on your person? Snark, sarcasm, and more bad puns. 

A necessary list be you human or abominable snowman. I hope these help you lovely monsters of all shapes and sizes to navigate life a little bit easier <3

You Know That You Were Born For More Than What Machines Provide

"I command the darkness to leave this space
And out, and out, these demons will race."

I command the sage with a wide blade of banishing, hurling it forward as the smoke billows in my hands. I am not quiet. I am not polite. I get angry and vicious. My voice is sharper than the blade I wield, for I know that belief and demanding are the only ways to get anything out of life, and the matter of smudging my apartment of negativity is no different.

I move from room to room, no space or object or entry is left untouched. I tell the mirror that it is not allowed to harm my self-love, and command the shadows to take flight. When I'm finished, the sage branch does something I've never seen before. It pops in an orange glow of a spark, bright like a flash, and its like the pressure equalizes or a window has been thrown open full of clean spring air. I breathe and feel the exhaustion, but its the satisfied kind, the sort of heavy breathing I once felt upon finishing a day of hay work for a local farm or walking four miles to the factory. The ache is a pleasant sort of thrum, but there is no time to rest.

The sun is setting fast and I need to catch it before it does.

I kneel before the altar with a new blade in hand. The banishing has done its chore, and now the summoner must finish the job.

At first, its difficult work. The line is far and I'm tired. At first it resists and I find myself speaking not in words but in sounds, the snarls and growls of an angry cat demanding obedience and submission. Finally, just as the sky turns orange, it does. Not with a force like a blow, but a caress and a whisper that races up my hands holding the knife to the sky. Not a shiver but a heady embrace, taking me in and pulling me close in the sinew and spaces from deep within, as if there are unexplored spaces between flesh and bone that hold something I have not yet tapped, something waiting to stir that only now rears its head.

It feels like a miracle and a battle cry, the divine and the war path.

Its like coming home.

Its never done this before either, but it recognizes me, whispers my soul's name and pay's homage to my presence there. The line is no longer a din of noise, but a singular voice in a quiet but raging river of life, one that does not try to drown or fill or destroy, but a presence of movement and possibility. One that is not malicious, is not threatening, is not dark or light or good or evil. It simply is. It is calm and it is pleasant, and it is honorable, and it is pure.

And it does not ask for sacrifice, or pain, or servitude. The voice fills my head like the pleasant sounds of waves underwater, the cascade of perfect movement, the push and pull, a rhythm older than time itself, asking only what it is I desire.

I ask to never doubt my beliefs. I ask for the strength to do what is right. I ask for vision that guides me in the direction of my dreams without straying for a moment, without taking two steps back.

I ask for everything.

I want it all.

I feel the spaces between stirring, shoving against the edges of the insides, like the gentle headbutt of a house cat, but far greater, far older, and far more powerful. She rears her head and roars proudly, a great thing of black and gold and white, neither purity nor darkness, but simply life and all it holds. Life is what pours from the shadows within, moving from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my toes as perfect and true as the water, as wild and free as the raging river, as boundless and deep as the rolling seas.

Promise is what it brings.

House Guests and Hammering

Sorry this space has been so quiet my darlings, I assure you that the blog is a bit slow because everything else in my life right now is anything but.

I am just days away from releasing the new shop line, I've increased my reps to almost double in under two months without my workout routine, and I've been running around like a madwoman trying to find time for my loved ones, like the amazing Manda Marie who came over to visit for a few days. She was kind enough to take all of these photos with her wonderful camera while I attempted to write articles.

OH YEAH I SHAVED MY HEAD

And sort of joined a gang...

The top brass says Las Lobas and the bottom copper says Honor

Every photo in those rows was found on tumblr :3

On this wall you can find ska music posters, and now an alto sax fingering chart, as I've taken up playing it again

my lovely altar with its latest additions: the Strength card from my last reading and a reiki-charged Gratitude candle

Shells and reef fossils from my trip to the Keys last summer, with blue obsidian and my bottle of holy water

Lets play I Spy, find the Mace in this photo

SO CLOSE TO LAUNCH I CAN TASTE IT.

Thats it! I will try to have my usual words for you all on Wednesday, and I should really start posting music on the regular, seeing as I have and listen to SO MUCH OF IT, and its a pretty constant force in my life. Check out my 8tracks widget to see what I've been mixing up lately, otherwise keep your eyes peeled for more words, tunes, and magick <3

Mid-Week Words

Journal, entry dated 2/5/14-
The only way to prove it is with progress and success.
Honor the mistake as much as the victory. Take time when needed, but don't waste it when it is not.
One word and one swing of the hammer at a time.

from the Sigil of Azazel-
Eve was stubborn to the point of foolishness, and cunning to the point of something which most would regard as slightly less than human, though as Azazel exhaled the smoke from his tired lungs, he wondered if that trait was learned over time. He was crushing the still burning end of his cigarette between this thumb and forefinger at the thought of it, the flesh of his finger tips turning black and sizzling while it extinguished.

David may have been doubtful, and Phenex may have been hesitant, but Azazel was not. From the moment she surprised him with an elbow to the ribs and took off like a hell hound after a fresh death, he knew that Eve Spellmeyer was the single most infuriating and terrifying human being he had ever met.

B. I. T. C. H.- My personal encounters with gender double-standards

                     

I've been happily single for about a year this month, and since that time I decided I needed a change. I didn't like the way my ex had made me think that I needed to move my life in a certain direction, and I hated that I wasn't doing a single thing for myself. My life up until that point, for the better part of three years, was about doing what was right for everyone else, which was a stupid fucking move, since none of the people I was sacrificing my personal happiness for were putting me first either.

Since about this time last year, I made the decision to stop giving a shit. I quit a grocery store job I had had for a grand total of three days, because they were unorganized asshats who didn't get back to me about job training until three months later, and by that point, I was offered a choice. I could do more articles for my writing job, or stay at 25 a week and work part-time for Price Chopper to pay the bills.

I gave my notice the next day. I didn't care what the manager thought, I didn't care what my parents thought, and if my ex was still with me at the time I'm sure I would have gotten a huge ass lecture about poor life choices and unnecessary risks.

That decision was one of the first I made to stop playing nice and biting my lip and do what I want to do what makes me time. I decided since that day that I wasn't putting up with anyone's shit anymore, especially since these people I was playing nice for were not even attempting to do the same for me. I became dominant and assertive, which is a huge step for me, as I was raised to believe that every I tried wasn't good enough, and that I should get my head out of the clouds and Be Realistic.

"People will kill you, over time. They will shave out every last morsel of fun in you with little, harmless sounding phrase that people use everyday. Like, "Be realistic. Can't you just for half a second be realistic?" Now, what that really means is "See reality my way, or die!
-Dylan Moran

Since that day, despite the times to follow being the best of my life thus far, I've taken a lot of shit for it. And every time I see others talking about the issue, I tend to want to scream, or snarl, or a combination of the two. The truth of society today is thusly that if a woman becomes dominant over any and all aspects of her life, there is a delightful derogatory term to go with it. If you take charge of a situation and refuse to let others belittle you, you're a bitch. If you decide to have an active sex life that you take charge of in a direct manner, you're a slut.

                      

I've been called bitchy, I've been called toxic (which I automatically respond with I'M RADIOOOOACTIVE at the top of my lungs) I've been called a slut, and I've even been told that I act as if I don't want people to love me. I've lost quite a few friends in the past year or so because I refuse to give up the assertive ground I have fought so hard for that actually gives me the courage and fortitude the live the crazy life I do of hammering metal and smacking keyboards for a living.

For the first time in my life I know who I am and what I'm capable of, and I am un-fucking-stoppable. And if being dominant and assertive makes me a bitch, than it is a title I will accept with pride.

"She was born out of ocean breath. I reminded her;‘Stop pouring so much of yourself into hearts that have no room for themselves Do not thin yourself Be vast You do not bring the ocean to a river’ "

— you are oceanic, Tapiwa Mugabe

On Forgiveness, Patience, and Trust

Many will call me a nice person, but at times, I don't see it that way.

I don't play nice. I'm not a nice friend. I will tell you what you need to hear, rather than what you want to hear. I will call you on your mistakes, just as I call myself out on my own. I'm protective, blunt, and at times painfully honest. 

I am not a nice person, but I am a good person. 

The two are not mutually exclusive. 

Forgiveness, patience, and trust may sound like totally different concepts, but for me they all come from the same place, and are found in the same manner. I don't trust easily, I don't forgive easily, and my patience which was once in abundance is short now. My time is the most precious thing to me. I keep healthy to have more of it, try to eat right so I have enough energy to make the most out of it, and I truly can't sit still for longer than a few episodes of a show before I have to be doing something, even if I am in pleasurable company. I'm lucky that the people I hold close understand this, and don't mind me sketching shop items, writing books, or even just sanding metal while we curl up and watch something.

 As such, I don't take the time to deal with unnecessary bullshit anymore. This is not to say that I don't forgive, or trust, or have patience at all, I do. But just as anything else is with me, it must be earned. I don't take time out of my day for anyone, in fact very few people will ever see me face to face, because there are only a few souls whose company I enjoy enough to pry myself from working on my shop or writing my novels. While that may be odd for most, here is a concept that shouldn't be. 

Forgiveness, trust, and patience must be earned. 

Don't give them out to anyone, because not everyone you meet is worthy of it, and that's okay. It is okay not to forgive people, it doesn't make you any less of a person, it makes them a shitty person for not getting their crap together. It is okay not to trust people, and doing so before you truly get to know a person is 9 times out of 10 not going to end well. Last of all, patience. Give patience only to those who are going to earn it by making the changes needed in their lives. People who constantly screw you over, hurt you, or generally make your life worse in any way without doing anything positive for it, are not worth your patience. If a person doesn't impact your life in any positive manner, you are allowed to not trust them, not give them your patience, and not forgive them. 

Patience is a necessity to positive and loving relationships. Trust is necessary to learning the truth, and keeping someone around to figure it out. Forgiveness is vital when its earned. When someone starts to move in a path I approve of, I forgive them, whether its been a month or a year. But forgetting is just plain stupid. Don't forget, forgetting the past just about dooms you and others to repeat it. I don't forget my mistakes, I honor them. 

But honor is another word for another time. 

Light and love always,

your friendly neighborhood Creep

Mid-Week Words

from the Journal, entry dated 1.29.14-
I was reminded as I made a complete and utter mess out of myself that I should go with my instincts, because nine times out of ten they will not lead you wrong.
That's what I love about witchcraft. The teachings of responsibility and the importance of knowing yourself.
The year is off to a trudging start, but I am proud of myself regardless. Ideas flow and consume, are born and take flight every single day.

from L.A.P. Book 1, opening chapter-

"Lily, you can't do this. You have to walk away. They will kill you, please, you don't want this Lily. You don't."

He was already on the pleading stage of bargaining as my heart beat raced. His voice usually resorted to begging when my heart beat raced too quickly from resting to holy shit active. This was a normal fear response for someone with my condition. I was not supposed to operate heavy machinery, or drive within a few hours of an episode if possible. I followed the rules. I also went out hunting for monsters every single night.

This was not part of the rules. 

The Sunday Confessional

So one of my big things about blogging is that I like it to be personal. I think there is a lot of power and personal growth to be found when sharing little intimate details about our lives, both the good and the bad. You should never be ashamed of enjoying things, and you should never be ashamed of making mistakes. All moments in life are beneficial in their own ways, for the simple fact that both good and bad work to help you grow.

I've gotten into the habit of every so often posting little confessions onto my tumblr, and I've had it in my head for months now to do a Sunday Confessional post, where I share a few choice ones with my audience here. I hope that, if nothing else, it helps you learn to confess your own truths, be they humorous or dark, unto yourself in order to find what you're truly made of.

CONFESSION #4

I haven’t changed the batteries of the one analog clock in the house for at least eight months, and will challenge anyone who tells me to do so that every reminder puts this off another month, but still, I always hear the clock ticking. 

Its not a biological clock. Its just a clock. It is not for children or marriage or romance. Its just a clock. A clock of words and jewelry, of books and beauty, of exercise and witchcraft. It is a clock of things which are necessary for my happiness, and the reminder that I have great longings in me, and thus must go to great lengths to achieve them. 

The clock is 48 novels and metal working and a Masters in Library Sciences and the ability to bring my body to its peak. 

And when I stop, even for a moment, for an hour, I hear the ticking, and it will not stop until I get moving. 

CONFESSION #7

A friend of mine, or I suppose an acquaintance now, told me not too long ago that I acted if I didn’t want anyone to love me. Its a phrase that stuck with me until I could manage to suss it out for myself.

Its not that I do not wish for someone to care about me, I just don’t expect them to. 

After a fairly fucked up childhood, and a string of further fucked up relationships, and even very old friends leaving and now continuing to talk shit about me (which is lovely, see how far that gets you), caring and loving is not the outcome I expect anymore. 

If you run the numbers, I get used more often than not, and the caring and the loving is just a fucking ruse to get what they want. 

I can count the people I genuinely love who love me in return on one hand, and some days I question even that. 

Edit- FYI, I’m not ashamed of any of this. I’m only ashamed that I had to open Google to properly spell ‘ruse’.

(it sounded stupid and French-like okay, don’t judge me)

CONFESSION #11

I can figure out how to engrave malachim by combining various metal stamping patterns. I can outline 8 books in a series and make it fucking compelling and badass. 

I cannot for the life of me figure out how to successfully tie a stretch cord to make a simple goddamn bracelet for Eerie Enchantments, and my last attempt left my hands so covered in super glue that I cried while getting it off.

If you can teach me how I will seriously be forever in your debt and basically make you whatever you want in my inventory. 

/Creep How Did You Even Survive This Long?

*whispers to the voices in her head* ;’I dooooont knooooow’

Thanks for reading!

Light and love always,

your friendly neighborhood Creep

New Words for the New Year

I know its been ages since I've composed one of these, and while I am wishing everyone a happy New Year, to me getting the year started off in the best way possible means sticking to good habits, and one of those is posting in this lovely blog of mine on the regular, and to that point I give you the very first Mid Week Words of 2014.

from the Journal, entry dated Jan. 1. 2014-

Its a beautiful day to ring in the New Year. The sun is shining, the crows are chuckling, and the kitchen table is full of new merch for the store, setting in epoxy just waiting to be blessed and photographed. The moon is even new. Its as if for the first time I can remember, my pagan calender of old and the Gregorian of common use are actually lining up together to start again.

from the Sigil of Azazel, chapter 8-

He did not even bother stepping out of the car when he pulled the luxurious machine into his personal parking space at the MDA Apartment Complex in the heart of the Loop. Azazel simply took a breath, pausing to breathe in deeply, and when the air was leaving his lungs again he was standing in a subway station not far from Eve's school. It was as worrisome as it was enraging. The commander of the Ward had a sickening feeling that it was the same line Eve would have taken home this evening if he had not interfered. There was a stench in the air that humans would mistake for trash or decay if they could smell it. Azazel followed it into the darkness down the track. Here there were no lights, only the underground darkness of moldy, rat infested subway tunnels. 

“Kochbiel?” Azazel asked the darkness, and the darkness answered.

“I am here, sir,” the darkness spoke, a ball of golden light taking shape to illuminate his blood-stained figure. There were other ways to see in the darkness, but they were beyond the capacity of the soldier’s mediocre family line. He was not the most powerful, Kochbiel, but he was smart and he was trust worthy, and those were qualities far more rare and valued in the current dwindling state of his kind. His skin held just enough color and tone to pass for human, and his pale blonde hair was cut close to the scalp, to keep from helping the enemy or hindering himself in battle. His eyes were the inky black pools long ago accustomed to frequent total darkness that could occur at any moment, and often did, in the impoverished regions of their country beneath the dirt. Kochbiel had fought by Azazel’s side and under his orders since the very start of the civil war. 

“I moved the body out of sight here, but I knew you would want it handled yourself, sir.”

Azazel nodded, taking the light from his hands, holding the incorporeal orb aloft to see the remains. And they were just that, the remains of what little was left. 

2013- A Year Of Words

Its 2am. I wrapped up my latest deadline sometime around 6pm. I emptied my bank account at the ATM for rent, with just enough left over to buy my favorite stuffed mushroom caps, firewood, and two bottles of wine for tomorrow. I came home, I ate, I hammered things, I made a fire and wrote for awhile.

Then a video by one of my favorite Youtubers Olan Rogers made me cry.

 Actual tears in large numbers streaming down my face, which actually hurts when its 8 degrees outside and the air inside makes my skin dry up and everything hurts, but it gave me some thought, and it was quite a bit that I haven't actually considered. It may seem odd because New Years Eve is tomorrow and I know everyone gets drunk and makes New Years resolutions which most will never actually carry out, but the day has honestly never meant very  much to me. My life moves with the pagan Sabbats, so my new years is Halloween, which makes sense because it is one of the last harvests, and every day after gets colder and then we all huddle up and wait for the snows to thaw and the earth to wake up again.

So I didn't actually realize until Olan was making cry talking about how the life he chooses isn't easy or one that gets you a ton of money, that the New Year is dawning in the next 24 hours, or what that means to most, or even what it means to me. And then Olan talks in detail about being completely broke between jobs, but he loves it, he loves it so much that the rest doesn't matter. And thats me with writing.

I know I'll get published one day. We will get to that point. It may take time, because I do need to pay the rent with my other writing gigs and I have others hobbies and am actually looking to put more time into those and add more because clearly I am a crazy person, but its not just about publishing for me. I love writing because I love the physical and mental of act of invention. I love being in the rush of that perfect moment when I figured out why Eve is immune to Gromory's pheromones, or why Lilly can see ghosts, or how Serenity's innocence actually nearly destroys her. I love watching the characters come to life and living with them in my heads and going about my day and thinking about how this reminds me of them or something they would do. When I have a shitty day, I often think about how Finn or Azazel or Vincent would handle it, and laugh.

In the beginning, there was only the copper scraps. And we said Yeah, Blessed are the copper scraps for letting me smack tons of tiny stamps into them. 

And no, its not easy, and yeah, I don't make a ton of money. I barely get by on a whim and a spell, and I'm considering, as I'm pushing to get better at engraving so I can launch the Malachim Mysteries line at Eerie Enchantments in time for the Spring Awakening, even applying for a possibly better job just to make things slightly less stressful.

But despite my home being chillier than I like because the noise I made upon seeing the latest heat bill was not that of a human being, I'm happy. I know it doesn't make sense to most people, which is strange to me because this is the only thing that ever has to myself, but I am mentally and spiritually and emotionally at a place of gratitude and happiness and passion that I have not felt in years. Because I managed to live for the first time on the written word and my own sheer insanity alone, and that's a pretty damn beautiful.

Though my shift has been underway for some time now already, I hope that everyone has a safe and happy New Year's Eve tomorrow (yes it is still December 30th screw your clock laptop), and wish you all the best of luck. Though honestly, I will tell you a secret from someone who has had probably what someone would describe as a long string of crappy luck in most areas of life, luck is not necessary. Only you are. Change happens only when you do it. Don't ask yourself what you want to see different in 2014, just ask yourself how badly do you want it, and you'll know then where you'll be in another 365 days.

I'll be hammering metal and keys, dying my hair, and living in and for the words as I always have, and always will.

From Beneath It Rises

It came forth not with a flash but a roar of thunder, subtle but growing until its crescendo of a slap against the skies of my soul. 

The shift begins, and the pressure shift is a sensation and excitement like no other.

Not all of the change is perfect happiness. There are hard decisions to make and sacrifices to be made, and I can already see one of the small forks on the trail ahead. But I'm ecstatic for the simple that its happening. 

Change is good.

Change means I'm living, and they are all changes in the right direction.

I throw myself headlong into this shift with all of the force of my passionate soul.

Reflections of Jaguars and Sea Serpents

I woke up this morning with a terrible head cold from a terrifying and exciting dream of magick and monsters lurking in the shallow depths of a flooded parking lot. I was chased, I was powerful, but I was free. It was as horrifying and dangerous as it was thrilling and amazing. Its downpouring outside and I wonder about bodies of water and portals to hidden worlds and take notes on mythology and things to look into for a possible story idea or ten.

I also look into the reflection and see my beautiful animal guide gazing back at me.

I'm sitting on my couch with my new laptop in hand, movers for the apartment across the hall going up and down the stairs making Tuscany jumpy, rain pitter-pattering on the skylight overhead and grey skies choking out what little sunlight we get this time of year, and its not sad or lonesome, but actually instills a great sense of awe.

This same time last year I was nervous and timid and so very, very afraid. It may not show much in my blogging updates, as I tend to speak only on subjects I feel strongly about (usually strongly upset about, but its that sense of anger that pushes me to speak my mind so often), but for a very long time I was simply petrified that I wouldn't be good enough, that in every relationship I had to try so very hard to cover up and hide so that the person I was with would never see me for the wretched human being I truly was.

I don't feel that way anymore.

This past year has not been easy. Leaving my last relationship was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, to truly grow the hell up and put bills and rent and all of my life's needs in my hands only, is not something I felt confident in doing. But here I am, 9 months later and I'm still going. And though things are tough financially, spiritually and emotionally I'm not just getting by, I'm thriving.

I know I am not where I want to be. Sigil stands as of late last night somewhere around 36.8k, and its probably going to take somewhere from 90-100k to complete properly. Its a hefty urban fantasy with a great deal of world building as well as cultural history to convey properly the history and lives of my demons. The shop could be better, and I could be fitter, I am simply prone to distraction and like to believe I am a better multitasker than I truly am. (Read as- I cannot actually write or create as quickly with Netflix in the background as I can with simply music)

Despite how little I have accomplished physically, I've accomplished a great deal emotionally. I am happy, for the first time in a long time. I don't feel angry more often than excited, or lonesome more often than warm. Of course I have my stresses and there are still days where I question the base natures of my sanity or general lack there-of, but they do not outnumber the smiles and the laughter. For the longest time when someone would ask me what my goal was, I would tell them it is just to be happy. Now I can say I simply want to gain knowledge and skill to be successful in the passions I live for to create a life of my own that satisfies me to the marrow of my bones. 

For that to happen, I need to get crackin on the shop, bang out Sigil (maybe I'll shoot for a first draft by Mabon?), and perhaps find even more gainful employment. It certainly does not hurt to look. 

I tend to fall quiet in the colder months, so this little space of mine may be void of my presence from time to time, but rest assured the silence is here is merely myself working elsewhere.  I'll try to keep posted as I move along, but the great shift is upon me now, and though I have truly have no idea what it brings, I am elated to see where it takes me.