Coming at’cha every Sunday at noon Eastern Standard Time EST – here’s more creative content craziness from Jennifer Weigel…
You speak of my magic use as if it were some insatiable entity unto itself. You attempt to place your values upon me, to box me within your own ideas of what I should and shouldn’t be doing. You tell me I tread dangerous waters, making such pacts with otherwise unknown entities, that only evil can come of this. You label them demons and devils, and label me with them. You say I cannot help but lose myself in this. That I will become addicted to these desires. How can you be so sure? Who are you to judge? Who are you to say?
I forge my own path. I utter my patron’s name, the low guttural hum emanates from my tongue and lips and through my ears, sending a familiar charge through my body, my breath, my being. The tentacles of raw unyielding power flow through me. The energy courses through my veins and grants me total autonomy over the forces that bind and tie the universe. It bends to my will. It fulfills my desire to make manifest my own destiny. This is why I exist.
He / she / we be. Outside of gender. Outside of species. Outside of body. Outside of self. Between and betwixt… Behold! We are one and all with the power, and the familiar energy sustains and encompasses us. Our patron has granted the will to see, hear, touch, and feel the beyond, and we cannot help but hunger for more. We define our universe unto ourselves and ourselves unto our universe. We are in complete control. We are the embodiment of potential. We are limitless. We are eternal. We are!
Patronage hath no depths greater than the endless unyielding waters of the unknown and unknowable… We fish for ultimate power. We become fish now. Fish. Fish are one and many. Fish define fish unto fishy fishiness to swim eternal in the fish-dwelling recesses of the deepest darkest crevices of the psyche, to nibble upon the incomprehensible detritus of the sea of knowledge. Nom nom nom… Fish eat or are eaten. Fish are chums.
Shallow sighs. Blubbering banter. Unseen dark waters rise to feed upon the endless unyielding power within and without. Not one, not many, not fish, not… puppet mastery in and of brains and being. Thoughts race by without pause. To eat and be eaten, they are one and the same. To be whole. Who-le… Who-hole? Falling further into the depths. One with the darkness. Nothing more. Nothing less. Nothing else.
Beyond knowledge, life, death…
Beyond being, self, individuality…
Beyond awareness, everything, nothing…
Beyond all… Beyond… Be yond…
(Image features Reversals mirror image Wicked selfie in witch hat, as seen previously in AI Dreaming.)
Weird Wyrlds 
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