#laespeaks

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This blog does not update often, however if you do like the type of posts here feel free to read them.  -Lae

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Oh we have a witch blog oops.

-Lae

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So close to getting my crow tattoo for my birthday I am pretty excited to turn 21 solely because of it. -Lae

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On the one hand she is of simple wisp, Her breath of the pungent bitter air, crisp. Body of trees, bearing the sweetest fruits, Winding down firmly, the harshest of roots. Her inner workings were far more vexing, Ill-tempered with curses, shouts, and hexing. But sturdy arms cradle, a mother’s hand. Crusted with those fallen, blood on demand. Her orders are clear, and her humor dark. Curved fangs with a bite far worse than her bark, Watching, those tiny winged blinking eyes. Collecting whispers, her night full of spies.

Coaxing those who she takes to, she then cries Through her domain, both the seas and the skies No patience, not for trinkets so minor. Possessing a palette for things finer.

Once I was claimed, though not of purely steam For I am more solid, and less of dreams. Yet she, she is both, and does understand. Both the work of wisps and  the work man.

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A few nights ago my significant other woke and told me in great detail of a dream he had. In it he said someone, male, was chasing us with a large shard of glass with violent intentions. We fled to a field where the treetops were surrounded by crows and once there followed several cats deeper into the woods in order to escape him. 

He then forgot most of the dream that morning, so I re-told him what I could remember. I think it is possible it is a message from my goddesses....

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I'm pretty excited. Today a girl I work with said I look just like a faerie today. Pretty much mad my night haha. -Lae

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I want to talk more about my Goddesses and I don't at the same time because I'm waiting for the fucker who comes over and says "You can't do that" and I don't know if its even worth the stress. -Lae

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I rearranged my altar. It wasn't working for me, it was a focal point in my bedroom. I didn't like it, they didn't like it. It was too much. Now my special items are close, on a shelf, blended in. They look like interesting knick-knacks until you open them or look very closely and know what you're looking for.

I think it is better hidden. I know where everything is, and so do they, and well, thats the point of it right?

I'd still call it an altar, because it is my space and it does serve that purpose, but it isn't a table with candles and bowls, and that is ok.

-Lae