After the Dream.

Sometimes what happens to you "at work" affects you whether they try to keep you from feeling it or not.

Subject:	Dances With Archangels
Time:	10:42 am.
Mood:	depressed.

 Silver might melds into flesh in the form of longing dreams
"Come and visit me?" a soft whisper. "I come," the reply.
When morning breaks, all events fade save an impression
Arms and legs, the color red. A little bit more, his lover dies.

---

Yeah.. can't remember what it was about, but I'm sure it was better than yesterday's which I didn't post because it was x-rated. Now, mind you, x-rated is a good thing normally. It's just that I always end up watching everyone else. That's never fun.

Woke up sad this morning. Makes one wonder where they've been.

The Cook

Sometimes I think one of my altars is a cook. Or maybe I cook for people on "the other side". It's just that sometimes I know things about recipes my upbringing and formal education doesn't give. Take for example goose soup.

I have never had goose soup, but I'd gotten hold of a goose breast. Soup in of itself is easy, so I had the meat and vegetables in the pot. I asked myself, "Now, what should I use to flavor this?"

The instant answer came: white wine.

I don't cook with wine. My mother never cooked with wine. My people of themselves traditionally don't cook with wine. The aunt that got hoity toity also got too good to let little neices like myself into her house much to learn about cooking with wine. WTF with the wine.

So I checked and learned that white wine is used in dishes using poultry or fish. Particularly in some goose soup recipes.

And that's not the first time that has happened to me. It's just the most recent.

You can say that maybe I learned it off of a cooking show (that I never watched) or by some other means. That's the usual explanation for things like this, and sometimes it is true. Always search the information that crops up for you carefully.

However in this case, I can't explain away the way the answer came to me - like a white hot little voice speaking up out of the shared well of knowledge. Almost an instinct. The way some altars will speak to you, especially when they feel strongly about something, are only programmed for that task, or are incredibly shy.

So yes. Goose soup.

Dream

Subject:	The theme is getting old
Time:	2:17 pm.

Yes, I dreamed of the ex again last night. And it was another sappy moment, but thankfully I can't remember it today. *sigh* I miss the dreams I used to have where I was running from demons, fighting werewolves, or any number of interesting things.

So I shall post about my favorite astral fight instead:

T'was during the time of court when my shields were lowered and the whole universe finally figured out where I was.

Now, as I've said before, the problem with getting found when on the run is that a lot of people say, "Hey! She owes me money!!" and they tear holes in the fabric of time to get to your house and take debts out of your hide. I was fighting every brave upstart and ancient old fart from here until Sundry Tuesday.

One night as I stood in my living room just beside my body, I looked to my front door just as a traditional little bugger stepped through, as pretty as you please, without knocking. He wore the most elaborately embroidered kimono I've ever seen: red-orange with golden designs all over it. His hair was in a black little top not and the scabbard to his kitana, strapped to his left, was black and red.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

We bowed, he drew his kitana, and the fight began.

I awoke the next morning, memory-less, with face scratches, and wondering who won.

I still wanna know. I mean, it was probably him but c'mon!! Don't I get a slow mo' replay or something??