It was one of those incredibly vivid dreams when you think you are awake.
I had been asleep (in the dream) and woke up to use the bathroom. I came back into my bedroom and laid down on the bed. I was feeling a bit aroused and started to run my hands over myself. But when I tried to stop I couldn’t. I couldn’t control my body. I wasn’t possessed, but something was in the room with me and it was trying to fuck me. It was a demon. I never saw it, but it was there touching me. I thought of something Ms. Graveyard Dirt said about fucking spirits on Tumblr, that it is the “weirdest sensation ever.” It was like that. Erotic and frightening at the same time. Continue reading →
A storm brews overhead. I play music that removes obstacles and call to the spirits who protect and guide me. I smudge the room with rosemary. By candlelight, I trace the ægishjálmr in cascarilla powder within a copper vessel. On torn parchment I scribe my spell with the blood of a dragon. On one side I place a second ægishjálmr, on the reverse I cross my name over his four times. I anoint the sigil and fold it deiseal and charge it to protect. I add agrimony, rue, bay leaves, mint, red pepper flakes, and his hair and blood. I fold all this together in aluminum foil and form a small sachet.
The storm picks up. It is pouring rain. Lightning flashes outside the window and thunder shakes the house. I spit on a white candle and carve the word ‘PROTECTION’ on it’s side. I anoint it with oil. I set the candle in a silver holder and place it on top of the sachet in the center of the copper vessel. I light the flame. I feed it smoke and burn more rosemary. I call to my spirits. I cry. I release. I beg for their help.
The storm rages violently directly over me traveling towards him. Two black cats circle me. Spirits come. Energy flows. Kundalini rises. My spine tingles. My chakras spin and my aura glows. Then the storm calms and the candle burns out.