Back from vacation (however short it was)
May. 5th, 2008 07:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lightrobber'twas a fun time. Dug myself in agricultural dealings, wandered around the fields and woods just being, breathing and existing.
The city screws you over and I'm glad I took Ai's advice and rearranged my working schedule so that I had five days off work and university (national holidays be blessed). I would have gone insane if I had not visited the country and my grandparents.
Because. When I return home, the time starts running differently. I look at the world differently. And I realise how petty and insignificant are the things some people like to indulge in so much.
Back there, I don't need to put up a facade, I don't need to pretend to be worse than I am (for that is exactly what I do, especially in front of a certain type of people); I can be the way I am because everyone in that small town has known me since childhood. Everything is so simple there - you are who you are and you belong there for who you are. No lies, no pretenses, but a little bit of old magic weaving through the everyday life.
It's the place I'll keep returning to. The place I'll fight for no matter what. The place I'll struggle to keep even if I have to abandon everything else. My land. My home. My calling, perhaps.
Now, if only I could get rid of those irrational fear attacks and paranoia of being watched, followed and having my life in danger when I'm outside my house in the dark hours of the night... I might have attracted a wandering, vengeful and restless soul during the years when I practiced black magic. I always think of facing them, questioning them for one last time - for their reasons - and releasing whoever it is that follows me in malice, but I fear the encounter and always put it off until next time. And then it always is too late and I'm leaving the place.
But I know the perfect day to close all dealings with the evil; I only need to arrange another four-five days long vacation to find all of my old tools and do the parting rites.
Although... it's not as much of a ritual as letting the soul(s) go to the afterlife and burning what's left of my tools, lifting the oaths off of them beforehand. Taking back the words spoken in hatred for all humanity and hoping I can fix the damage I've done.
For that's all there is in the end - only hope.
The city screws you over and I'm glad I took Ai's advice and rearranged my working schedule so that I had five days off work and university (national holidays be blessed). I would have gone insane if I had not visited the country and my grandparents.
Because. When I return home, the time starts running differently. I look at the world differently. And I realise how petty and insignificant are the things some people like to indulge in so much.
Back there, I don't need to put up a facade, I don't need to pretend to be worse than I am (for that is exactly what I do, especially in front of a certain type of people); I can be the way I am because everyone in that small town has known me since childhood. Everything is so simple there - you are who you are and you belong there for who you are. No lies, no pretenses, but a little bit of old magic weaving through the everyday life.
It's the place I'll keep returning to. The place I'll fight for no matter what. The place I'll struggle to keep even if I have to abandon everything else. My land. My home. My calling, perhaps.
Now, if only I could get rid of those irrational fear attacks and paranoia of being watched, followed and having my life in danger when I'm outside my house in the dark hours of the night... I might have attracted a wandering, vengeful and restless soul during the years when I practiced black magic. I always think of facing them, questioning them for one last time - for their reasons - and releasing whoever it is that follows me in malice, but I fear the encounter and always put it off until next time. And then it always is too late and I'm leaving the place.
But I know the perfect day to close all dealings with the evil; I only need to arrange another four-five days long vacation to find all of my old tools and do the parting rites.
Although... it's not as much of a ritual as letting the soul(s) go to the afterlife and burning what's left of my tools, lifting the oaths off of them beforehand. Taking back the words spoken in hatred for all humanity and hoping I can fix the damage I've done.
For that's all there is in the end - only hope.
