My body aches, weary,

my friend I love you so, but your gravity

Aches my body, weary.

I give in to it, my friend

Sinking deep into coziness

Darkness caressing, a sheet of light sneaks past.

Selene, oh brightness, find me.

Lift this body, breath levity into my sick lungs.

Wash me over, glitter my darkened room.

Oh patient, oh kindly.

You waited up for me, as you wait for him.

Darkness can wait, it simply must.

The plane through which Sidereal and celestial bodies are linked is accessible innately (at least in my case), but it's really best for communication. Mirrors act as a medium or conduit that can interface between the human bodied Sidereal, and their celestial counterparts on a much greater and deeper level. They're better for highly charged spell work, in my opinion. And since my mirrors directly face my window, which perfectly faces the moon, she can always interface with them.

I know a few things for certain: I am a star, I am an archivist, and I am a wishing star belonging to a constellation of other wishing stars. I am the right hand, and dedicated devotee to the moon, and as such, I'm granted privileges and abilities related to my position and status, through our relationship. I am a deity with dominion over death, passion, and whimsy (amongst a couple of other things). And for the time being, the moniker Sirius a feels correct and appropriate.

Be still of mind, sound of heart. Savor long the lingering taste of your sweetest dreams, and listen hard, lest you miss the whispered call of your deepest, whimsical wishes. ܀⊹*٭✩

.. but still haven't figured out how to metabolize being annoyed with people 💀 Or negative feelings.

. My fixation on the death of stars is an extension of a lifeline grapple I've had with death as a concept. The idea of it being one I've, for a long time, found frightening. There is a part of this vessel that still does on instinct. An idle process I cannot control.

. However, I have begun to embrace it. An inevitability. And in part, it is the comfort of knowing that when this body goes, I will persist as a star. As Sirius a. However, death is not evaded in this. I am celestial, I am deific. I am not immortal. Sirius a is well into its (my) life. Sirius a (I) will die eventually.

. However, as I've said, this is the natural way for all stars. I am privileged to experience it, even more so as my death will come with a grand display, one I am proud of. But that brings me to my original point: Death conceptually is very closely interlinked with who I am. What I am. I am not a harbinger, nor am I a killer. I am an advocate. Perhaps an aspect, however my designations and duties do not allow for me to enact any tangible change upon life and death (managing wishes is well enough on my plate, thank you starling).

. I am of death, just as I am of knowledge. Of whimsy, or knowledge, or of wishing.

As a star, I feel very fortunate for my friends and close loved ones. I have given up much of my vulnerability to them time and time again, and have found that they seem to know me before I ever have need to explain myself.

Many of them are aware, to some level, that I am celestial and Sidereal being. Granted, a few of them aren't entirely aware of the fact that I am a star, but I have been called "cosmic" and a "star/celestial thing" before by friends who aren't fully in the know. And I cherish the acknowledgement dearly.