Oh No, Not Again...

I shared something deep and meaningful in apology the other day. The topic was raised by something someone said before me, something about not wanting to be here. JOB 10:19 If only I had never come into being.

I’ve known about this bible verse since school. It has always resonated. I ask myself the question, baring this in mind: Would I like to live my same life again? Exactly the same life.

Totting up the pros and the cons, the answer would have to be no. There’s been loads of magic, don’t get me wrong, but the bad times outweigh the good ones, I feel. I couldn’t bear to go thru all this agony again. Granted, it’s made me the person who I am today, and today I feel fine, great even, a warrior like, but the process to becoming one involves some rare stunts dude! Involving sharing a bed with rats and tarantulas sometimes! Could it get any more painful? And that was the easy part of the trials and tribulations which have made me…

I’m torn if I’m honest, because saying that I wouldn’t live this life again makes me feel like a pessimist who’s had a boring experience. The psychosis in later years takes the boring part away. I was too busy thinking on my wits to be bored, or depressed. I’ve probably been more mad than I have been sad. These days I tend to be more morose than lively, as I’ve calmed down all my anger and don’t do hatred. What I’m left with is indescribable joy and a peace beyond all human understanding, which are both under constant threat from the modern world, the flesh and the devil. It’s super difficult keeping hold of certain commodities once you understand how priceless they are.

Love. Hope. Joy. Peace.

They don’t teach you about these at school. Or university for that matter. I had to virtually lose and recover them myself to discover their true worth. It was harder than a death in the family when I embarked on my pilgrimage to reclaim my love and hope towards the end of last summer. The experience left me emotionally drained, depleted almost, I dropped everything including alcohol and nicotine and was left physically hobbled in a state of sober, irrational humour, laughing breathlessly at things I had never previously found funny. Most of this was nerves.

The situation of me laughing at nothing was starting to grab people’s attention and they began ringing the police, saying I was responding to unseen stimuli, in a vain attempt to get me hospitalised. My laughter is a dangerous game in pubic, it is commonly hated by the bitter snitches who can’t handle it.

In my more paranoid days, I believed that the sound of laughter released secret spy creatures from weaponised cameras to investigate the origin of the sound. Just as laughter occurred, I would see little beings appearing in my peripheral vision on cue. Seriously, just as screams of anguish affect us enlightened ones, our ripples of jovial happiness affect the dark side.

But don’t let that stop you giggling! x

2nd 1st Kiss

The first one was in a different lifetime ago, in a place far, far away. But it definitely happened. I still remember it to this day. Kind of, anyway. It’s more like indistinct snippets of an ancient dream. Vague. Unclear. Wispy. It did happen though. Must be at least decades ago. Maybe as many as ten. Ten decades ago. Can you imagine that? Ten decades ago? My past life, thinking about it, was perhaps more. We’re talking witchcraft here, we’re talking warlocks. Going back centuries, really, when both were innocently persecuted. And you know what, we formed a bond. That’s all I know. We formed a bond that would outweigh all the savagery of times. They gave it, we took it. Bloodthirstiness, murderousness, mercilessness...we took it as one. And it took us. The cold venom of the age stole our lives. Worse than that, it took our dignity. They killed our livestock, they burned our villages, they enslaved our children...but they could never erase the memory of our first kiss together. Witch and warlock. That was a monument itself in the wild blue yonder of the heavens. It took place upon a hill, in the sunset...and then here I was...here I was in the modern age, in the same situation, with someone special, nothing but déjà vu rippling through my soul. I certainly wasn’t a warlock, and the special person who shared my first special kiss certainly wasn’t a witch...but...but...I couldn’t shake a worse for wear suspicion that we were actually witches and warlocks, meeting again, reuniting, re-gathering and regrouping, coming together again for a second encounter in a different dimension. We were students now. Students. Young and free. Our keen minds growing. Aching for each other.

And this was something far more spectacular than the memories made of the persecution we faced. Can you imagine having been lovers, experiencing the passion between us, and then the utmost fear we encountered which brought our souls together for all eternity after we were murdered? That second kiss was electrifying as our lips touched after Art class, bringing us back to all those decades ago, recognising each other’s touch and smell and reigniting the passion we’d once shared. It awakened all our senses and made us question humanity and the evil acts which are still upon us in the modern era. We rose above those evil acts.

They say that love can drive a person insane. It certainly fuelled the war between our persecutors, and subsequently ended our lives. I guess it changed the face of the planet. However, at the same time, love has been the driving force of change for the better, giving us hope and something for us to look forward to. Marriage, a home, children’s parties. Finding each other again has taught us more about life than anything else ever could. It has taught us about how the way the world works. Our eyes are now open to just how beautiful and horrible every single person in this world is capable of being. When we are with each other once more, we find ourselves questioning peace and hatred. So much beauty and so many monstrosities...Love is perfect – the one thing in the entire universe that is entirely perfect. And being such means it must hold everything within it – both good and evil, both beauty and ugliness, both peace and war. Which we were once victims of. Love is the single power in this universe that is perfection. It is mutable, multifaceted. Love is whatever we wish it to be. Or rather, love is whatever we make it to be. Understanding love and what it allows for is arguably the most important lesson a person can learn in any lifetime. It is the one thing that every single human being in the world longs for. Love is what drives us to act. It drives us to create change, to become different people. I say different and not better, because, the truth is, love doesn't always turn us into better individuals. Were our persecutors in love with us, perhaps scared of us and what we had together as a pair, because that was something special, a fucking unbreakable bond which was not of this world? Is that why we were once destroyed? I recognise, in a sense, that even our persecutors, or rather sociopaths, wanted to be loved – even if only by themselves. Romantic love is by far the most dangerous of loves, but for this very same reason, it is the most powerful. This was a force that undeniably scared our persecutors, leaving them with a need to extinguish us. It has the ability to change a person to such an extent that afterwards, that person is often not even recognizable to him or herself. The problem with love is that it doesn't offer a definition. Sure, we experience it, but most people never come to truly understand it. We find ourselves falling deeper into ourselves as we wonder how is it possible to have such a connection between witch and warlock...student and student...and wondering is it possible to love the same one soul for all eternity? The answer is easy: The memories we made and continue to make help us to be the people we have grown to be. We wish to be no one else. We are entirely happy within ourselves.  Our history and what’s happening in this age may bring tears to our eyes from time to time, but we know that without tears every so often, even the smiles will lose their meaning. It’s all about smiles and cries. Together we can face whatever this cruel world chooses to throw at us so go on and do your best but you will never break our bond and for as long as there is air in our lungs we will protect each other and will never give in to your demands or threats. You as the evil persecutors are the weak individuals with no idea of being loved and bonded so in my opinion you are the losers in all of this.

We met up in the corridor after class, and we shared our second first kiss together. The walls melted into the sunset again, we explored each other’s bodies and souls, and we knew there were better things to come. No matter what, we were one. Always and forever. One.

 

witchlovingwarlock productions 2016 (collab)