My poor mind is still going back to the overstuffed sofas, fireplaces, plush carpets, music and art of those times. The warm and bright lighting… The conversation.. Good times. Times before cell phones and internet.. Times before distractions. Times when we had to talk and interact.
Past times. Times that will never return due to age, technology, change… Time.
Time that has rendered us a blow that lands harder and cuts deeper than any death. Memories erased leaving just traces of something you once knew… Did we really once hang out in garages and cafe’s? Did we really go out into the world untethered, with no way to call for help except our mouths?
I watch those wild magical things fall away in the form of bodies. Loved ones. But it brings a thought about… what kind of world would those special people be living in now anyways? This world is killing imagination and magick. One has to really look, carelessly, at a sneak to find the magick now and we all stand alone. All alone.
Who would take care of those magical creatures now? Those beautiful birds who could spin creation with their hands.. Who recognizes? Who sees? Who cares?
Yes my loves… it is better that you would exit now. Remember this world as it once was for decades upon decades before now… Before the keep up and the social butterfly.. before the sell out and the sold. Before all that was abnormal became the norm. Its best to see that the nether was where we always lived anyways… best to go home when it’s time.