What Is True?

However, this year I have taken on the attitude that what’s dead is dead and everything I was meant to take with me is now a part of me without having to explain it.

Instead, I am choosing to preserve my energy and work with it as part of my creativity.

Responding to impulse and taste buds, I jumped out of my wooden chair.

‘I’m getting a piece of cheescake, you want anything?’

Intrigued, my best friend looks up at me.

With his eyes, he takes a visual stroll over the display of cakes and sandwiches.

He caresses the stack of books we’ve collected in the last 45 minutes.

The stack representing our subconscious attempt to recreate early adulthood passions and excitement for llewellyn books back before we knew a thing or two.

His eyes dart between his left and right shoulders before he looks back at me.

‘No, I’m good. Actually….maybe…a tea?’

Knowing our favorite tea, a hot cinnamon sunset by Harney and Sons with a dash of cinnamon and two table spoons of honey, I feel a smirk come upon my face.

I chuckle and put on my best rendition of the flirt.

‘Ochun in a cup!?’

He mirrors my expression and oozes over the stack of books as if Harney and his sons had materialized into a seductive and charismatic cult organization. 

Demonstrating his desire; he vocalizes the sound of his approaching pleasure.

‘Ochuuuun in a cuuuup!’

I roll my eyes, and nod my head while laughing under my breathe.

He’s always like this.

As I walk towards the cafe, I am aware of my body and the deprecating dialogue I can’t seem to ever escape.

At least, the weather understands me.

It knows how I feel about myself. It knows how others feel about me. 

This weather and I, had a thing or two in common.

We were both depressed, uncomfortable, and riding on the possibility of explosive expression. Our dark secret being that we both felt like an inconvenience, as opposed to the love and welcome that a bright and sunny day receives.

I am, somehow; always off kilter.

Especially, when it comes to the weather. 

I tend to embrace whatever comes at me never checking the stats and going with what is happening moment to moment.

Right now, what is, is that its starting to rain. Everyone resents the rain despite preparing for it. And I, resent their resentment.

Also, I fucking haaaate umbrellas.

Especially, on New York streets.

‘Sasha…Sasha…’

The baristas voice makes its way into my ears, separating me from the allure of my personal Hell. I turn my gaze away from the glass panels that cover this particular Barnes and Noble and look back at the barista.

‘I’m sorry, I’m always in a daydream.’ I say this as if she were somehow exposed to my inner world of doom, gloom, and shame. 

The barista shrugs her shoulders, and smiles to be polite.

Again, I am casually disassociating and caught in the moment; completely missing her outstretched arm with my best friends tea in her hand.

She just wants to get back to her washcloth.

Embarrassed at my inability to stay present, I open my mouth suggesting a brief smile of gratitude, quickly taking my cake and tea with me.

My best friend is buried in two books at once, absorbing information as he always does. With admiration, I continue to walk towards our table feeling my appreciation for his capacity to hold so much information and his hunger for continued study and knowledge.

I will never know why I am his friend.

I don’t know why he likes me or keeps me around.

I’m pretty ann-

‘Ochun in a cup…yaaaas!’ He says as his voice squeeks in excitement.

I feel his joy cover me, breaking me free of my intrusive, cycling thoughts. 

I place the tea in front of him and then situate my cake, sizing it up to see where I am going to start while wondering if I am going to like it. 

$7 pieces of cheesecake are usually a hit or miss for me. 

My bestie breaks my focus.

‘You know Padrino wants us to stop by for thanksgiving. Do you think you want to come with?’. 

Here go my feelings again, a fucking ouija board without a planchette. 

A part of me desires to connect with my spiritual godparents, another part of me feels resentment at their selective care for  certain godchildren, and another part of me just feels guilty about feeling any and all of this.

As I search myself, I hear my best friend closing his books. He slides his hand into the center of our table.

‘You don’t have to, but if you want to go, you’ll be with me.’

I feel my discomfort stirring and beginning to pour out of my cells. My scent gives me away; an aroma reminiscent of basil and thyme-of love and bitterness.

I sigh.

‘Yea, I know. I feel like I call too much attention and I dont want to be in a room with people who seem to be unsure about me.

Not seem. Are unsure about me.

My best friend raises his finger to his lips.

‘No, I don’t think they are unsure about you. I think they love you. They think you are to yourself, but they don’t think anything of it. You’re a classic child of Centella.’

Centella Ndoki, what Paleros call the ‘lesser spirits’ of afro cuban necromancy and to whom I am initiated. 

The Storm Spirit, Queen of the Dead, the Witch of all Witches.

‘What are you thinking about?’ 

I notice his hand is in front of me, again gauging my attention.

I can no longer contain my frustration.

I let go.

‘I don’t get any of this and I don’t feel like I am learning anything I’m supposed to. I am mostly there because of you. If it weren’t for you, they would not give me, Tania, or Marco the time of day but yet they always ‘need’ us. That’s not a blame, I just question the validity of all of this and my place within it. I am questioning my place in life, period.’

My demons begin to remind me of how much of a mess I am, how selfish I am to have said what I said and to assume I deserved anything. 

They continue to tempt me back into my comfortable hatred and anger towards my family which just so happens to be connected to my rage for being born.

I can’t even take my own life and end this; because, God….

This spiral makes me feel displaced, wrong, and stupid simply for fucking breathing.

I am nothing like them and even when i try to be like them, it still isn’t enough.

The fires in me are rising to an uncomfortable peak-

Barnes and noble fades away into the blackhole that is my mind, my thoughts are then swallowed up by silence.

This experience is like witnessing some sort of cosmic food chain.

For a moment, it is just me and my best friend in what feels like a bubble made up of soft clouds.

I turn to look at my best friend.

I wonder if he feels what I feel.

The shift in pressure. 

The quiet.

What just happened?

I watch as my best friends pupils dilate.

He inhales, his lips slowly parting.

‘Whoa…’

Curious and concerned, I lean in.

‘What, whats happening?’

‘You are a lot like Centella…’

My best friend looks at me as if he is looking past me and at me at the same time. 

He continues.

‘It makes sense why She chose you. You are dark, mysterious, hard to put a finger on. People can go crazy and obsessed if they spend too long trying to figure you out. People can feel this…and they are scared because they don’t know what it is.

Like you, she is very misunderstood and understood at the same time. It’s hard to explain.’

He bites his nail briefly, its clear he is deciphering some sort of code or message like he does when he is devouring books.

‘Most people can’t reach you because most people are not supposed to. They can’t until they are ready.’

He turns his head, I am assuming to receive more information.

My disappointment threatening the silence between us.

I want to be understood.

I want to be seen.

Wtf God!

‘Yoooooooo.’ He gasps as his hands wave with the zeal of a cartoon bird; his body communicates wildly in the ecstasy of revelation.

‘You are like chaos itself. Sasha…You have no idea what is coming for you. You have no idea who you really are. Sasha…

You have to get to know Centella better. Forget about our godparents, this is where She wants you. Shewants to teach you Herself. You are right to stay to yourself. Keep doing what you are doing, let hershow you.’

We hold each others gaze for a moment, though his looks more dazed and mine confused.

‘Sasha, its so beautiful.’

He looks away, clearly still ruminating on what he had seen.

Time slows down some more before it seems to snap back in place. 

My best friend resumes his study while I stare at my cake like The Oracle would jump out and tell me what just happened in this matrix.

I don’t feel beautiful.

Maybe, he was just trying to make me feel better. He is my best friend.

I cut into my cake with my fork curious and secretly grateful that I had something else to engage my mind with.

I can’t deny that something about what he said feels true.

I can’t put my finger on it.

I just know it’s important.

What is wrong with me?

One day, I will remember.

Underworld Whispers:

Over the last week, I felt the energies of exploring The Witch Trials dissipate while sensing another presence coming into form. 

Now, I still have a whole other piece I am dying to write around The Witch Trials, but I also have to honor the current because that is what is meant to serve me at a given time.

This presence felt more solid and regal, less erratic than the essence of The Witch Trials, and not at all like a sexy rebellion as that of Lilith.

The feeling and image I am receiving as I aim to describe this essence  is that of a less PG version of Professor Mcgonagall from Harry Potter, (for those that don't know who she is). 

There is this feeling of yellowed and torn dusty books, an over-seeing presence that looks wide and deep, and a feeling of a pointer being whipped at your desk accompanied by a sense of nurture in the undercurrent.

Hellhounds on my Trail:

A few years back, around the time I was beginning to realize my relationship was harming me on a mental and emotional level, I began to start seeing large black dogs everywhere. There was even the time I saw one clairvoyantly and thought I was imagining things; only to turn the corner and see a huge black ball of fur, almost bear like, and its owner not too far behind it.

I smiled because I knew it was a message from Hecate. 

I acknowledged her efforts to get my attention, but I did not think to approach her simply because I’ve only ever been curious about her.

I didn’t want my curiosity to be a sign of disrespect by assuming she would want to connect with me. 

On a deeper level, I did not feel worthy of her assistance and did not want to be a disappointment at that time.

More recently, her approach has been increasingly more firm. 

At first the outreach started with me hearing the introduction of distorted winding and descending guitars from Children of Bodom’s Banned from Heaven off of the album Hellhounds on my Trail. I hadn’t listened to this band in years, and so I spoke back for an answer around what this incoming stream of ear candy was communicating.

Being that I have been sensing that I have been approaching a crossroads that affects me on all levels (one that was given to me as a part of a prophecy some years ago), I decided it would suit me to finally approach Hecate and ask what it was that she wanted to show me. 

As I am considering my path forward, there was a sense that I would somehow shoot myself in the foot if I did not ask for guidance about my considerations, and so I honored the notion.

Once my nerves settled, connecting with her was fairly easy and it had nothing to do with skill, but because the invitation had always been available even if I had been in denial of it.

Initiations Past:

It brings to mind my first ever invitation into the dark through an older practitioner and friend who is a devotee of The Morrighan. 

One day I sat in her kitchen expressing that I felt it was best to offer my seat to people on the train because it was the right thing to do.

The energy in the room slowly shifted, as her body felt more dense, all of the energy came down at once like small, dull raining daggers; enough to feel it but not enough to permanently injure me. 

Without restraint, she said, 

And that is your problem, why you have nothing to show for yourself, why people run all over you, because you don’t believe in yourself and you put others first. Do you think these people would think twice about you? That they care about you? This isn’t about not loving others, it's about loving yourself first.

I remember sitting there at 19,  and feeling conflicted because I could feel the love and concern behind her voice, but I could also feel my inner child wanting to maintain her blissful ignorance.

What Hecate shared with me on Samhain night was nothing I didn’t already know, but it was in the transmission of her presence that I fully understood why it was so important that I connect with her and heed her suggestions before taking any more steps forward. 

The outreach was about my heart and the dangers of going down the right path for the wrong reasons. 

Hecate’s concern was around my anger and impulsivity, how certain beliefs and conditioning have affected my ability to channel my rage appropriately and how this translates in the magical world (as a survivor of narcissistic and sexual abuse).

I could feel her warnings move through me from soft concern to sternness and direction.

With humor she spoke to me of boundaries as she showed me how she works her gates and permissions and how she doesn’t allow just anyone into her domain because they believe they are special or important.

Hecate allows them in because she trusts that they are responsible and ready to work with her and in her realm at the right time.

She also said with a hint of a smile, even my bitches are well-trained as a metaphor for the placement of her hounds and how a dog's bark is a warning and command for respect before an attack is initiated.

As I write this, it makes perfect sense as to why my roads would close every time I came to a peak and at every peak, there is some form of attack to pull me right back into that same pacifying ignorance.

Annihilation vs. Apotheosis:

Some days I sit still and aspect with the deities I am working with.

Other days, if I find I am more on the tired side, or if I am still getting to know the deity, I’ll use my cards.

Her messages to me and where I stand were very fluid and clear.

Side note: I am learning that my clairaudience is developing strength. Yay me!

My spread communicated that I was coming from the energy of Justice and that where I was going is the energy of The Devil. 

Now, back in the day this would have been alarming for me. I would have closed the communication and went right back to my bible screaming psalms all over my house. I would have made sure to grab holy water from my local church to cleanse myself and my home top to bottom because the interpretation would have been that I was going to hell for doing something or being wrong.

This is what reading Tarot looks and feels like when we have not developed methods of working with our shame and trauma; we read from our pain lens and come away with ungrounded messages that force us back into our comfortable discomfort.

The Tarot I used to commune with Hecate is the True Black Tarot.

It is one of my favorite decks because the artwork is simple and gorgeous; and it gives me the same feeling as if I was scrying into a black mirror.

The symbolism spoke to me through the placement of Light on each figure.

In the Justice card, the light forms a halo around the character's head as if all of her power is centered around her upper three chakras. 

Her body is pure white which for me speaks to dissociation with the physical and mainly being a vessel for a higher force or cause. Her wispy nature, which faces sideways, has no personal sense of direction because she is given direction and executes when called. Even her stance is accompanied by a scale and a sword, tools outside of herself that give her purpose and power, without them she is sort of in limbo, kind of like the Warrior archetype needing a battle. What happens when there is no battle?

The Devil card feels fuller, more alive and more present. Though her finger is placed over her mouth as a sign of secrecy; she is covered with gold around her body as I perceived red as well; she is facing forward as if to confront you. The radiance of her wings, expanding or contracting representing being unapologetic about our authority and how we choose to show up or not to show up, becoming the embodiment and mirror for truth because through our presence others as well as ourselves are made aware of our own illusions through our every day encounters. Here we choose to stand firm in our convictions when those illusions ask us to conform to the comfort of what is known and controlled. Her having four arms also speaks to me of releasing attachment to our ideals in the sense that there is always an advantage in every narrative you deal.

Without getting long-winded about the title terms of annihilation and apotheosis:

One is focused on destroying the ego for enlightenment or oneness with God while the other is focused on becoming a God through egoism.

What Hecate was alluding to is that while the path of the Ego is a necessary one for me to step into after many years of abuse and dysfunction, it is about how I enter this path that determines the direction and growth of my Soul.

The purpose of this decision is not to claim access to worldly power (aka materialism), but to break the chains of conditioning rooted in psychological forms of control such as being raised to be self-sacrificing and conditioned to accept emotional abuse that has taken us further away from our self-respect and sovereignty.

Instead, we choose to confront those illusions and to rise to the truth of our own learned helplessness, accepting the part of us that needs to learn healthy ways of being more selfish, and to stop making ourselves wrong for our own desires. 

Sometimes, this means seeing empathy for what it is instead of what our conditioning makes it to be. Some people associate empathy with enabling behaviors, but true empathy will swing at the knees and offer you water to drink so you can learn to stand up on your own and for yourself.

Hecate shared with me that power without heart is harmful to the Soul and to the collective under that Soul whether it be light or dark.

Technically, these terms when focused on in a linear fashion are baseless because balance calls for the permission to explore the imbalances.

There are doors in the Underworld you never want to open and Spirits who are more dangerous than you can conceive.

You are the first and the last gate.

Magic is Simple:

Magicians, (or anyone that falls under the umbrella of energy manipulation) use tools mostly for pleasure.

Open any beginner witchcraft book and they will tell you the same thing.

Tools are teachers that guide in discovering how to reveal and cultivate the foundation already present within you. 

Tools are the perfect assistants to bridge the gap between the ethereal and the physical.

All that is needed is to know oneself and to have a healthy gauge on the power within and the responsibility of holding that power.

From the clarity and stability of the inner foundation, the magician learns to channel and direct their energy into what is important to them based on their personal values, morals, and ethics creating a sustainable and palpable connection from the spiritual into the physical.

Essentially, the set up of tools are a mirror offering of what is being called down in from the Spirit which then reflects back into the life of the magician.

What is started in a private and sacred space is carried out, by the magician, into the environments they inhabit, activating and awakening soul lessons and gifts for everyone involved.

If discovering magic puts you in a corner out of fear of karma, what  you are saying is that you are afraid of your power.

You, as the magician, from the empowered knowing of being a  creator, are the beginning and the end of your karma.

The ‘three-fold law’ takes new meaning from this awareness.

All magic begins from your essence.

I love how an old friend of mine put it to me years ago:

You know, I never understood the purpose of certain powders until I thought about it. I felt it was really stupid to have things such as 'car crash powder'. But then, I wanted something really bad and really fast and knowing I ran the risk of harming myself, I started to think: How -do- you create a powerful spell with faster results? Take that car crash for example, the impact of that crash in the designated area leaves an imprint like how mediums can pick up on energetic memory (psychometry). Said item has stored energetic memory, that allows for you to utilize the imprint towards your efforts. Because of the nature and origin of this powder, it can be used to draw your desires to you faster. I guess it's not so dumb anymore, and it works, after months of applying for a job, I was hired on the spot the next day.

In other words, energy created from that impact can be directed to initiate positive or negative change regardless of the initial condition because the essence is the same. 

The greatness of the impact can be used to call forth your intention faster and suddenly; albeit chaotically-so be wise and create intentionally from start to finish.

Take this information and envision spell work coming from the center, which is you.

Allow manmade complications fall away for a moment as you continue to read through this post.

If you are an aspiring practitioner, unless you are seeking to get into the realm of Spirits and Deity work, you can choose to reframe and start with this notion.

The Modern Day Witch

There is a saying that another friend of mine used to love to remind me of back in the day. 

As a person with an open heart who had no concept of boundaries, my friend, a fierce fire sign, used to remind me that not all witches make themselves known.

Let's be real, when we think of witches today we are no longer seeing hungry old ladies eating babies, we are not seeing hags stirring pots, we are not thinking of Charmed or any other theatrical rendition of The Witch.

The first thing that comes to our mind now is probably social media.

The aesthetic of the witch, long time practicing witches, baby witches, and witches from every culture.

My aim during these next three weeks is to go layers deeper than our practice and connect to the essence of what we as witches and women represent.

A Woman Asleep...

The most dangerous witch is the one that does not know she is a witch.

She is the woman who does not know her power, the curious one fiddling with her magic; ignorant to the laws of the Universe breathing and functioning through her. 

It is her, and her alone, provoking the elements with her limited perspective and lack of openness.

She is unaware of how much space she actually takes up simply for being born female.

The witch with or without tools, the everyday woman starts out as an unconscious weaver.

She creates from shadow and in this space is the power and potential of the seven deadly sins (and their cousins) to attack at any perceived slight, real or imagined.

The pain she smiles through festers inside of her and manifests in the environment as passive aggression, first as a slow drip until it becomes an all out war.

She feels justified to blame other women for the space she does not take up and the power she is too afraid to own; and in that delusion seeks to take and or destroy that power in others.

As women, this is done through the negative current of gossip and manipulation which is rooted in fear, envy, and a general lack of self awareness, control, and responsibility.

These types of witches engage their magic from a space of deficiency. This is a part of unfolding narrative of the sister wound; generating power by bonding through unresolved trauma and low self-worth.

The unintended result of this form of witchcraft is always a shakeup and breakdown of everything that is false in every participant. 

It’s the destructive yet positive force of Darkness asking for all of us to wake the fuck up and get our shit together.

To realize we can generate this power ourselves instead of harvesting it from each other and come into a space of collaboration instead of competition.

The Real Witchcraft of 1692 Carries the Same Essence Today:

When we look outward into the world around us, we are quick to deflect and avoid our discomfort with the way things are by witnessing the uncomfortable situation, turning to our loved ones, shrugging, and ending the conversation with: Well, history always repeats itself.

We make society's unresolved issues a problem for someone out there to handle while we sit comfortably behind our laptops pretending we give a damn (or saying the right things to appear virtuous).

We serve our causes from a place of pity and the idea that history is either only in our textbooks or being made on our screens.

We miss the events directly affecting our lives and the change that we have the actual capacity to create in how we treat others living their personal Witch Trial.

When you look at people, when you observe an environment-

What do you see?

Where does your judgment ( and your 'right' to judge) or distaste come from and where does it lead you to?

If we are so determined for history not to repeat itself, what are we doing by our actions right now, at home for example (inwardly and outwardly) to correct it?

Do our behaviors line up with who we say we are, or is it time to reflect on which parts of us are a talking head?

The medicine of the Witch Trials allows us to and heal and make peace with the unconscious magician; witnessing how it is their own hysteria that is the Spell in the overarching story.

It is the unconscious build up of that negative energy in one place, like a wild fire, setting the stage for transformation and forcing everyone to take a long hard look at where the villain really lives and what has been created from that space of ignorance.

When the fire dies, there is a new space created for us to choose to be wiser with our power, though the impact of the event is still felt, and the essence is the same.

Every day, we get to choose what we do with that Essence.

I don’t remember when I abandoned my power.

If it happened in segments like brick and mortar, or if I one day decided to just stop paying the light bill.

Even in the times I have felt my own electricity, I am unsure if I have ever truly relished in its intensity.

The Divine has always been here with me-

Though, I like a dog and its tail,

Kept seeking to bite down on the palpable, yet intangible existence of and within myself.

I have traversed darkness many times, lusting-

Alchemizing said lust to find gifts that in my ignorance I had perceived to be ‘lost’.

I buried my self-respect along with my tools to eliminate the space between myself and others while knowing very well it would not change a thing.

I’ve traded the Divinity within me to find solace in the notion of divinity erected by the same forces who have stripped me and those like myself of any sense of Sovereignty.

To say it is because we are women with magic between our legs is to pull back only one layer atop many that conceal the golden thread of the True Divine-

This thread is the point of contact we are kept from.

It is the source of Truth under layers of injustice-

It is the threat of Liberation.

If I even have the chance at recognition, a moment of reconciliation that leads to the illumination and ownership of my magic-

Comes the opposite force; a mass revelation of what it really means to have Sold our Souls.

Ensuring conformity is only an attempt to avoid confronting the Sin they themselves have created.

That is what Hell is.

A hall of mirrors demanding your submission to shame that is not your own.

Its very existence held up by the accusations maintained and festering within the Sinner themselves.

You are ‘The Witches Mirror’ in which the past, present, and future is revealed.

Awakening a mistrust that is felt on every level and in every body.

A mistrust that is deadly or enlightening depending on the heart condition of those who receive you; pointing back to all of the ways we have misplaced ourselves.

It is your arrival at the practice of wholeness that reverberates through the cells of every living thing both complimenting and threatening all that exists within it.

Hello October!

Welcome ‘spooky season’!

This is the time of the year where ‘the veil gets thinner’ as they say.

As a psychic medium, it seems everyone wants to engage in chatter with me these days.

This is absolutely an exaggeration.

I am not that interesting.

But, I would like to sleep like a normal person ; p

Boundaries are a current practice for me, especially in the Spirit, which is fitting considering the season of exploration I am consciously walking into.

A little backdrop: In May of this year, I had an encounter with Lilith and followed the suggestion to devote myself to her mysteries for a year.

Upon entering this connection, I learned very quickly that she is a whole different facet of the Divine Feminine.

Her teachings can be easily missed if you are not connected to instinct and intuition. Then when you have this baseline, she ups the ante and begins to tinker with all of your feminine shadows. 

You will also find this is a kink for her because every time you are confronted with some juicy, dark detail of your life, you will also find you are turned on by it-and she invites you to accept that turn on as well.

Sexy, Sexy. : p

Lilith is such a powerhouse and has a very layered approach.

Just now I received a vision of a snake shedding its' skin.

Love and respect her and she will reward you with your hidden treasures.

Which leads me to what I feel is a B-Side of walking her path.

Engaging ‘The Witch’.

At this moment, I have been invited to go back to the Occult roots I began to traverse in my early teens when I felt the pull and circling of the feminine and to start asking deeper questions around why I stepped away from the practice.

In my recent ancestor work (who seem to roar when an injustice has occurred around me) there is an inward call to reconcile the damage that has occurred between my pagan ancestors and those who have felt justified to divide and conquer in the name of Christianity aka Patriarchy.

This is a theme that continues to manifest itself in my current life (it is actually quite explosive) and I realize that it is time to put my big girl panties on to merge the spiritual with the worldly now that I have deepened my relationship to myself and my Spiritual work.

What I am finding is that this internal conflict, or sacred wound, is part of the answer to creating this something bigger that has been living inside me for so long and that connects personal desire with a vision for the whole.

I have subconsciously believed I was unworthy of protection or protecting myself and my space, I also believed that I did not have it in me to be an activist. (I still struggle, it's getting better though).

As impassioned as I become about the injustices I witness and now speak to and as inspired as I am by my own internal compass, perspective, and values;

Even with all of this fire (albeit not properly channeled over the years), I often suffered from a wild case of ‘imposter syndrome’ not realizing that this sensation is a part of the larger picture my life has been desiring to form.

If I would have come into the acceptance of my own power sooner,  I would have been able to see how life has indeed held up a mirror to how I was meant to show up in this world. 

and might I add, smoother for my own nervous system... : /

The details have followed me all the way up until this moment of realization.

So you can say Lilith has offered me a big bang of sorts ; p

This ecstatic and emboldened resurgence of empowerment has gifted me more space to allow a fresh approach for my inner muse to truly shine

…and to stand in it.

This next sequence is in confronting the part of my collapse that I have always avoided (or been dumb to) until now.

Just because Eden was a form and/or example of an existence did not mean that life outside of Eden was barren.

Lilith created her life from the nothing they said she was.

She understood that she was the fertile ground her life would grow from.