Spike

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I didn’t ask
for your soul
nor your life
I took all I wanted;
silencing you with desire
your scarred fingers
held fast against the wall
Riesling blessed lips
tasted, devoured-
as my hands bruised
your beautiful wrists
against course red bricks,
and concrete
painted dark with rain, night,
and cruelty.

You pleaded,
not for release:
but binding
for red mornings
intoxication
euphoria
and Home
I listened as you prayed
begged, and raged
to your Gods
and mine
begging not for comfort,
but for Pain-
for soft lips
sharp teeth
and the promise
of palms dusted with salt
to caress the open wounds
of your tattered psyche

..as for me
It was my pleasure
to oblige you.

   Hey, I wrote that… I write so many things daily under more alias’ than there are kennings for some Gods (find me more than 10 kennings for Lodur, I dare you.)  And apparently,  Loki of a thousand names hates alias when used to hide myself and not allow the preconception s attached to my real name (Not some Larpitru bullshit) or every. single. alias I use to hide the multitude of things I am and do online.  From Alex Hildebrandt for op-editorials that keep getting publication on respected news sites correcting misconception on PTSD, to Eskandariah Damavandi, some random scholar on Persian history, down to Tyrriene, The Lokean, Ophelia, Raven, Fox, or one-shot names I create and discard to say what I feel needs to be said anonymously, and being a coward not to take ownership as I “touch and go” across the internet, where the only place I feel “safe” to feel the consequences of my words is within the very narrow confines of my “religion” or “faith” two words that make even the newest-found Odinist froth with anger.

There is no religion or faith, you live or you die. Your “religious faith” is a hobby if it is not who you are, unwavering, as an essential part of you and how you interact with the world.

And if I can keep a promise to write for a God, I would be less than human if I could not make and keep the same promises when asked for a friend who has brought me nothing but love and insight, tired as I am, for all the fucked up things I force myself to do.

I could write another post of my own insecurity and self inadequacies,  but it’s not like that. My friend, flesh and blood, pain and redemption with a body that ages and a beautiful mind that has survived travesties that would be horrific to describe that would cause anyone to question the salient nature of humanity to those who have endured less…

I am no great beauty or even particularly likable by most,
So how does one react when introduced to someone who unwittingly possessed both qualities? Treat him like others with derision or jealously?

No,
I befriended him and he allowed me to discover, long before Lokeanism was a “important issue” that divides our people through so many cracks and fissures,  a man who Knows Loki with the same devotion as the Sufi knew Allah, only without supplication and standing instead of falling to his knees in begging

Instead, with arms outstretched, and with the strongest of intentions,  even if unspoken that said to this man it’s a palpable sence that Loki may say,

“I have seen you suffer,  and by my scarred lips and eyes that tear in blood from the venom of other’s injustice- you are Mine by blood and all atrocity you survived and yet retained all ability to love more deeply and broadly than humanity at large could understand.

  They seek to exploit every flaw in your perfection and discover your every wound to encase in the salt of your own secret tears to make you as base and shallow as they live their lives; out of fears with dedications made with all-devotion to material success over intellectual curiosity.  So to deny Loki is to deny your nature, so arise you flawed mortal God and live, damn you.”

And so, without any other Heathen in his existence, entirely alone in this life with the existence of this maligned deity as part of himself,  somehow,  for absolutely no reason whatsoever he landed states away from his home living with complete assholes for friends of my own, I met him.

I spoke before about eyes, his eyes were the same as mine. Green/blue dark ringed.  Both filled with laughter and suffering, and marked clearly even without tattoos shown that Atheism is a myth he perpetuated to avoid the company of the foolish, thinking no other human had experienced atrocities or the blessings of such an entity that meant anything more than delusion, loneliness or wishful thinking.

And I was a “fresh” Gythia… a priestess in a parody of a faith that I could not see at the time was nothing more than an excuse for former Christians to “dress up”, drink until stupid,  and use the Gods to justify their own prejudices… but he could.

And as we sat outside in the storm with the bottle of Riesling between us, I showed him that with Loki also comes the blessings of Woten as his blood flowed between ourfingers and he pledged himself to Woten in kind.

No bullshit of standing in the circles created for us in kindness by Wiccans for lack of knowledge of our own history.  Two Germanics, in worship of the Gods that answer and care for us instead of an ineffable desert God who did not walk among us… our own ways and blood demand as “proof” of benevolence in the universe.

Instead of on our knees begging to God/s whose nature is to never answer… we were two who had the opposite experiences spiritually.

Us Both, people so damaged without any chance of normalcy in a society where the myth is that all children are protected from atrocity- we were proof of survival against the base nature of humanity; marginalized and perpetually insulted further by life and humanity by loving too deeply despite our silent, ever-bleeding wounds that continue to afflict us.
And… in this, we were both Loki’s own, when at the time my “other” patron was the Mad King who people revere as “Sane” by their human minds who cannot reconcile…

That insanity, wisdom, and divine kindness can possibly coexist.  Since most in Heathenry only seek the aspects to which they feel “comfortable”.

So, I brought him to Woten… and he claimed I “saved” him… in the sense that he believed my existence and the link to Woten mutually justified our respective experiences of abject horror in a country lied to be “civilized” by simply hoping the innocent wounded would all “die away” by falling to that which harmed them would end us, we would end ourselves,  find the only means of expression or assusgement of pain would be to return the violences inflicted upon us, or allow our intellects to die to addictions.

Which is how America cares for the broken. We are your shame in flesh, and those that still endure despite the instantaneous discomfort we invoke without intention via our intelligence or psychic pain.

For the qualities this man has been hated, he is loved by better intelligences than humanity can provide and through the “lies” he claims to tell… he has never yet been able to lie to me, despite his most fervent attempts.

I did not know this ability went both directions, nor do I know how.

As I write, I feel like a “liar” myself since my entire modality in English as I write now comes from a combination of Persian poets and Jacqueline Carey novels as a way to showcase a prestigious vocabulary developed in compensation for only being to think in abstracts of emotions, colors, and diagrams.  When I communicate, I am doing so in a way that is alien and so prone to misunderstanding that no matter how many “words” I learn, regardless of language, I cannot clarify or focus into the means to express myself clearly without losing nuance of meaning… and for my efforts, I get assassination from those who see my strange hair and visible tattoos they do not ask to understand that explain my history and self and label me “insane” and “pretentious”.

I only say these things, for, without doubt they also apply to Loki of New Hampshire whose eyes see with more clarity and less naivety than my own.

Last night he clawed through his own full life without anything more than inuition to help me… when I am a person who can scream through all conventional channels to meet slammed door and “lost” calls to have given up entire from finding any relief from my own afflictions, instead to turn into a “courageous coward” awaiting the next interrogation to destroy me, family to disown me, or humanity in a rise of contrite offense send me waves of death threats for writing something that *might*  provoke change of heart or minds in a laughably small part of the population of this blue marble in the vast uncounted reaches of space.

Bracing myself, hoping I can give enough of myself to justify my existence to myself as nothing more than a thinking mind with no foundation in self esteem other than an artificially imposed belief in my own, surprisingly difficult to achieve,  genius…. since as a child my emotional and speech impediments made me nothing.

And he called me.

“Calm down”, he said repeatedly.

I was calm. It’s easy to act “calm” when taught by Sufi if I choose to, but “acting calm” is not the same as “internally wailing in futility”
The only other person to see through me once is now a deranged old Asatru woman with nothing left I’ve seen to her soul but bitterness towards those who would love her without cloying supplications.

And through this living, breathing human being came the words of a frantic God who knew I could not be reached by “holy visions”, but that I needed proof that I was more than just an empty glass vase meant to hold flowers of spiritually,  both intoxicating or toxic, regardless of how I am affected.

“You are a human being, Ren… the Gods are nothing more but people. What. The. Fuck, Ren.”

“What?”

And after some banter of him trying to figure out what was harming me, remembering now how Loki in a dream tried so fucking hard to protect me, he sought to figure out what is harming me when I have been trying to do likewise,

“I DO NOT APPROVE OF HOW YOU HAVE ALLOWED THIS SORT OF AFFILIATION WITH TYR.”

“… As if I have choice, he’s a God. ”

“Bullshit, you have every right as a human to not be used and harmed, and you have as much right to go to Him and tell HIM you are not going to allow yourself to be harmed and discarded like convenient tool for His objectives.  Tell me, Ren… what is Tyr’s kenning?”

I replied, “The unsmiling one.”

“WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU FELT LIKE SMILING?

“So, what can I do about it? To me, it seems you have an advantage in communication with Gods than I do.”

“I would fucking punch him,”

“…That would work out well for you…liar, like you would or could as human or God?”

“The Gods are human. They are the essentialness of humanity, and no more or less than your worth as a human being of compassion. That dream was unacceptable,  you are bleeding out for your eagerness to prove yourself brave by harming your psyche, ”

“True.” Contrary to popular belief,  I find lies abhorrent.

“Do you have ANY idea how much energy it took to balance my own negligence towards you? Do you not think that THIS is not difficult for me to accomplish? You want proof I exist outside of dreams and morphine, is this enough for you?”

And then as if taking turns and fully co-lucid, every thought I suffered in silence, unwritten and even those never discussed outside my husband and Myriad was laid out point by point before me in harsh clarity in between my friend’s reticence to be so blunt with me; not knowing enough to realize the worst cruelty I can experience is polite lies, as part of Him, Myself,  and every other person loved by Loki spoke…

“I love you, I fucking mean it, I am not going to allow you to exist to torture yourself for some implied “Greater Good”, stop trying to prove youself, stop trying to justify yourself in being used.  THE GODS ARE PEOPLE. They die, the lie, they can hurt, and they can love… And you are not worthless. Tyr is not more than you, I am not more than you… please just stop this direction of challenging the world to cut you down. You have been cut down so many times you’re seeking it every time you achieve something worth pride or happiness.”

As the hours passed, it became apparent if I am to be helped- it needs to be via the friends who know me best as we mutually brush the ashes of our own proof of survival from the wounds of one another.

This fucking beautiful man who makes me self conscious in my physical imperfections that, oddly, despite the mental roller coaster of severe and unmitigated trauma of 4 fucking hours of surgery to wake up and told “Wow. That was much more intensive than anticipated… we had to take your last ovary, which was likely only one source of pain in adfition to a pound of scar tissue we had to filet from your [implied incorrectly performed] hysterectomy.” Are being corrected in ways he, who has not seen me in years, my husband, and therapist only seem to possess the ability to see as I blame strange hormones for removing the reins to my own thought processes

My husband wants sanity that is not mine to give or for him to ask anymore than it can be demanded for a pig to fly… but he’s everything Loki could do for me to keep me safe, and how can I be safe if I will charge into websites as “E. Damavandi” insisting their God is dead in front of the most violent people currently in existence?

But I digress,  the conversation turned a thousand directions like two struggling pine martins… he asked me what I found in Canada, and I never fully answered. Well, honestly, I found both the cruelty and mercy of Tyr…

And promised I would attend college…

…Where then I met Loki who asked me to protect the life of the person from the dream two posts prior to this.

Until it was realized both of us were only able to recognize the instabilities and secrets of the other by sharing the same ones.

Realizing that we both need the help of others and eachother to stop our bleeding.

Then, the next night, same time, my best friend called me, no less a mess than I am.

…and wouldn’t you know it if I didnt use many of the same sentiments used on me to help him.

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11 Responses to “Spike”

  1. An Andromedian Says:

    Some things…

    “Religion” is christianity.

    People that can’t understand you aren’t supposed to understand you.

    The majority of communication is non-verbal.

    Communicating is gardening.

    The Gods are people, but they aren’t liars, because there is no such thing as lying or liars. There is only gardening.

    You value what “society” thinks too much, and it’s causing you pain. “Society” is a farm and it’s “citizens” are the animals…What is a farm animal’s value based on? Aren’t farm animals able to live without people? Didn’t they do that before they were farmed? So what good is a farm for animals?

    Do you know what you want?

    Odin said that there isn’t a point from running away from battle because you will eventually die from old age.

    Life is gardening.

    • Very profound, and thank you for the links, I’ll check them out immediately.

      My only question is this…. I thought I was able to resolve the issue with Tyr; *and I do owe a tattoo to Him*…

      But it is very evident Loki isn’t happy with Tyr regarding me. As of yet, neither is angry at me…but I go to send my sketch for the Tyr tattoo-and lookie there- it looks literally in the photo (not my crummy art) that Tyr is resting on a giant penis… smh.

      On the bright side, the second tattoo I submitted to my artist for Loki weeks ago she first said would be ‘impossible’, she’s already nearly finished the sketch!

    • I want what I’ve always wanted: Happiness and knowing I’m going to leave this Earth better than it would have been without me if I can.

      What else could most want? 🙂

      • An Andromedian Says:

        “Happiness” is a vague term and a fleeting feeling. You will never find “Happiness” because it doesn’t exist, but you can find *Satisfaction*…

        So what *Exactly* do you want out of life? Start making a list.

        You say you want to make the Earth better. Are you sure you want “The Earth” to be better or “The World” to be better, or are you just talking about “Your World” and “Your Life”? Or “Your Heart”?

        You can’t make “The World” better if you don’t know what *You* want…

        You think low of yourself because of the circumstances of your birth, so you seek to please others without care for yourself, all the while being oblivious to how much you are wanted and desired and deeply loved…

        You give yourself to Gods, but your friend was correct in that the Gods are *People*. Really powerful and advanced people. The Gods can’t save you Raven, they can guide you and in the end, they want you for themselves. Yes, they are not altruistic, they *Want Us* for themselves which means they have their own intentions…

        Remember Odin said “give to get”. Like *Always* attracts like, you need to already have what you seek.

        But how can you “Get”, when you have nothing to “Give”?
        But how can you get what you want, when you don’t even know what you want?

        How can you give, when you don’t know *Exactly* what you want to receive so that you can gain it so that you can give it out?

        Start making a list. 🙂

      • The difficulty in spending 3-4 in intensive training in Sufism is the elimination of typical “wants”. Knowing I survived homelessness with no lasting consequences, was able to eat, bathe, and continue my education while having no more possessions (even now) that cannot fit inside my car makes “wanting” an alien concept.

        My childhood wasn’t all bad. My grandparents were rich so I did not lack for any toy or object I desired…and then my mother would destroy anything I cared for materially.

        Between these two extremes- I learned not to care for anything that doesn’t think or feel. I care for my husband, my close friends and I wish them to be content.

        I want the Heathen community to embrace academia and vice versa eliminating the bias that monotheism holds on having their gods as a capital “G”- where ours are lowercase. I would like to write a book- but I am honestly too volitile emotionally to handle events to promote it.

        In a way, I am a displaced lecturer- If Academia wasn’t full of nepotism and allowed for broader areas of expertise and research while still allowing me to exercise my right to free-thought without having to “stand on the shoulders” of others to justify my thoughts as “just as valid” as obscure, dead men- I would have found a university by now.

        I believe seeing more accomplished PhD’s as patients in the same psychiatric facilities I was in treatment. (who earned them many decades prior to this one.) In addition to seeing so many people who hold the credential of “PhD” via nothing but nepotism and extended plagarism has enbittered me.

        My only “secret” goal- which is no secret- is I would like to write a book on the amazing things I have seen in my life- but seen through the perspective of a fictional character- making that fictional character “real” a la’ the premise of the book “Sophie’s World” both incorporating theoretical sciences, obscure Heathen (and other traditions) as well as actual things I have seen/experienced but with the removal of “me” from the picture…as a thought experiment to see if I can.

      • An Andromedian Says:

        You will get what you want, and more.

        Don’t worry about the current system. Nothing lasts, and it’s on the way out anyway. Focus on your future.

        You are a HERO….

      • LOL

  2. An Andromedian Says:

    You said that you learned Reiki when you were younger, you may want to look at these links. Please don’t be bothered by the tone of the articles, there is a story as to why they are that way.

    http://www.lipstickmystic.com/reiki-is-crap/

    http://www.lipstickmystic.com/more-on-why-reiki-is-bad-and-how-to-undo-ties-to-reiki/

    http://www.lipstickmystic.com/a-healing-crisis-equals-massive-psychic-attack-you-reiki-idiots/

    • Yes, I learned Reiki, but I have never done it alone on anyone other than myself or a lover…and even then it was more “my own thing” than Reiki- and it was diagnostic rather than curative. Such as “Is my ankle broken? Let me put my hands on that sucker and feel if I need an ER or it can wait”

      …and I wasn’t even accurate then. 🙂

      I only achieved two levels, and when invited to “Reiki Shares” I saw more “energy vampires” than “healers” in the room with me…and despite the claims of those who used to insist they could “train my healing abilities (for a few hundred dollars)”

      I am not a healer.

      I cannot deny my attunements for Reiki I and II were pleasant,

      HOWEVER= I can honestly say, with support of those who know me:

      An agoraphobic has little use for Reiki- and when I do go out and interact with others- even under the mantle of “Clergy”- I do not use what I was taught.

      What I WILL do, if I need to? What I could do before Reiki- I will put my hand on a person’s shoulder if they are suffering to get a “better idea” of what they feel.

      I don’t have an opinion on Reiki one way or another. I tried it, but I never referenced it past that post of attunement because, well, I honestly forgot the symbols and it’s not part of my daily life experience. If someone says “I’m sending you Reiki” I take it with the same regard as “I’m sending you prayer.”

      Just another kind sentiment.

      • An Andromedian Says:

        Please don’t take this as me being pushy, but if you can, do you think you can get checked out about the Reiki, just in case?

      • I can do my best, my Braucher offered to bless our house, I can also ask him to do a “sweep” of me as well.

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