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December 2010

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Dec. 27th, 2010

Conflictions.

I was, perhaps, conflicted. I sat on the couch, television singing in the background, un-noticed. It wasn't a waste - other were in the room with me. The previous night I'd sought to dive within, meditate, but it was left un-done for the comfort of talking to companions directly. Was I losing myself, I wondered, or was it simply the season of winter, which always seemed to bring the world to a restless halt? And then there were my daily works, my passions, what I strive for in daily life, left collecting dust upon the desktop. I'd left them aside for months, work to do piling up. Where was the passion? I longed for it, but couldn't find the spark. Perhaps, on this snowy winter's day, I'd find it sitting in the snowbank somewhere. Out the door and into the cold, eyes flickering between the physical and ethereal worlds - both were still and silent as stone. Perhaps if something was out there today, it would then be easy to find.

Dec. 26th, 2010

The ending of the year: Dear Beloved.

The house was quiet. Birds crowed in the background, and I opened the laptop into my secret realm. 19 minutes - despite plugging it in overnight, it seems it didn't take the charge, and so little time was to be had to write the thoughts of the Butterfly Mask. 21 minutes - sometimes, I wondered if I could charge it with my hands, but I always knew that wasn't true. It was December 26th, the day after Christmas, and so my thoughts began to drift away from the holiday madness and towards the end of the year. Was I Christian? No, but to me, Christmas was more about the family and the exchange of love by one means or another. Maybe Jesus was a mage before this world lost its magic, or maybe he was just really good at card tricks. Who could ever say? None of us were there over 2,000 years ago.

A year gone by. In the year I'd gone from a follower to a leader, from the shy soul behind the Butterfly Mask to the out-front projection that may or may not hide behind it - perhaps both. I'd gone from being unsure of my path to knowing precisely what I'd be doing in the next year, where I'd be going, give or take what Fate and circumstance decide to dish out. I couldn't know whether someone on the road would take my legs off the next day or not, after all. A cup of hot cocoa with a candy cane tipping out over the edge rested in one hand as the ink and quill formed in my mind over the imaginary paper, in this day and age replaced by the cold, glowing screen of a laptop. The letter that would never reach the eyes it belonged to etched itself across the page.

Dear Beloved,
It seems the spirit of the holidays never found you, or perhaps in your lifetime, it never has. You're a spiritual man, one who loves the magic of nature an the technology of man alike. Yet you never let the radiant soul within you shine through, despite knowing of it as I do. You've kept it locked away for a lifetime, fascinated by it but fearing it like man is both fascinated and frightful of the tigers of the wild. I don't just mean in your soul practices, but, too, in your every day waking life. You take to your working days as an unhappy mundane. It is times like this especially that one needs to use their knowledge and power of the otherworld to face the day of this world. Let the chaos energy of the madness of the shopping season and the darkness that people carry with them bounce off of you and into the void. But no matter what ways I've put this to you, you shy away. You live in fear of it, and so cage yourself. I cannot open this cage for you, but I fear you'll continue to delay opening it, fearing the 'tiger' within. Perhaps the next step is intervention, yet still I have faith in you as I ever love you. Find the keys. You cannot wait for that imaginary moment you think will be perfect to dive within your own soul. Now is that moment.

Listen to yourself and look at your own dry tears.


Birds continued to crow in the background. The winds of early winter whipped through the drafty cracks. 12 minutes. My mind shuffled of resolutions, but forever I concern over the resolutions of others. Perhaps that was my resolution - after becoming a leader, I left myself behind. In true leadership, it takes a balance, and so I resolved to worry better of myself in the next year, within and throughout, my soul and my waking life. The time to meditate and dive within had risen once again as winter-Earth slept. 

Even the Butterfly Mask must migrate, recover, and discover.

Dec. 20th, 2010

Hear the voice through the Butterfly Mask.

There is little I'll say about myself, while there is much I'll say about what I've seen. I am otherkin, I am therian. I am the alpha of a pack of those with like minds - are there 5? Are there 25? Perhaps you'll never know. I will never use their true names here, nor will I only speak of those within my circle. Not all things I say will be kind, and likewise not all things I say will be harsh. This is a voice of true thoughts with no reason to deceive or warp their meanings when it is only a mask telling the story. The faces in the icons that shall come will never be mine, or my art, though all credit shall be given to the real hands that paint them.

I welcome otherkin, therians, and those we call mundane alike. Skeptics and believers, people of all faiths. Have you found me? Are you listening? Even so, my voice is here.

Hear the voice through the Butterfly Mask.