A million little flashes of memory that I may never have context for, or may never fully sort out.

A thousand questions that may only lead to more questions. Endless inquisitive thoughts unfolding into more “what ifs” and possibilities.

Realizing this, realizing that I may never even know with full certainty something as simple as my kintype’s actual name (let’s just say that Devious in particular is a nickname) or full origins.. it’s discouraging.

But I like to think of it as.. an endless adventure. 

You are discovering a totally different world, a different existence, slowly and surely. Perhaps it is long gone to you, only persists in your faded recollections and as imperfect alternates. Perhaps its true state is unknown even to you, at this point. 

But instead of thinking of yourself as... a displaced amnesiac, desperately scrambling for fragmented and blurry memories of a life long past... perhaps it’s nicer to think of yourself as a historian; an adventurer and scholar of their own past lives (or psychological worlds, or astral planes, etc., depending on one’s personal beliefs). Slowly putting puzzle pieces together of a wonderous and neverending story, if one minds the reference.

In this age, it is often said that one cannot hope to see the world fully understood and explored in its entirety in their lifetime. And yet, we learn new things every day, about our own reality.

Jesters or clowns? What’s better? Why?

Spooky energy rising, cursed occurrences appearing....