Encyclopedia of Slip-ways.... Mirrors

Mirrors are dangerous and not to be taken idely. 

DO NOT ever look into a mirror in the dark. 

Doing so can trap a fracture of your soul within there

Mirrors are doorways and a form of slip-way. 

The oldest story -  or one of them -  about mirrors is that the devil made a mirror.  All who looked into the mirror became warped in soul,  and would see the world as ugly.  The devil attempted to fly to heaven to warp heaven itself but the mirror broke. It shattered into a million pieces and fell back to earth. Some people got it in their eyes and others made mirrors from the pieces. Still others got pieces stuck in their heart: creating cruelty,  hatred and malice in mankind. 

It is also said that the Snow Queen -  Winter herself -  tried to re-build the mirror. She needed every piece and so would take people who still had a fracture of that mirror within them. 

An entity,  a spirit haunts all mirrors,  it is malevolent and terrifying and was created by the ammassed legion of spirits who passed violently before a mirror. 

Mirrors are not always so dangerous,  sometimes they lead to other realms or dimensions and sometimes... They reveal what you are at your deepest. 

Cats can navigate the strange pathways through mirrors. 


Scar xx

Encyclopedia of Slip-ways, Doorways and Half-Creatures...

Entry One:

Slag Heaps

And

Goblins. 

Slag Heaps are found in forests,  and particularly about Ghost Gums. They are recognizable for their vast size, a hill fashioned from the compost of the forest, pale stones and twisted branches. Mud too is deep within its structure. 

Slag Heaps are just one of the few Doorways into the Goblin Realm. 

To access the Realm from the Slag Heaps,  find one at half light -  morning or afternoon is fine -  and bring a blade just in case. Also it is useful to bring a pocket filled with five cents.   Usually though,  you will not need to use it. For most,  it is enough to stand upon the muddiest,  softest part of the Heap and this could be anywhere. So search carefully and once you find it, stand there and clear your mind. 

Eventually,  you will begin to sink. 

Once you sink below you will be in the Hallways of the Goblin. 

Goblins have rough skin and are alarming physically. They move easily through the in-between places of our world, through computers,  wall spaces,  attics,  basements,  the corners of your eyes and corners.  In ancient cultures they were responsible for.the theft of babies and leaving a changeling in their place. 

They love five cents,  socks and other nicknacks,  responsible for the lost things of our world and malfunctioning traffic lights and computers. 

Scar xx

A Small List of All Hallows Safeguards.

A small list of All Hallow's Eve Safeguards... 

- NEVER look directly into mirrors in a dark room,  it can steal fractures of your soul and wake the beings that dwell behind it. 

- Lady bugs are good luck. 

- Killing ladybugs is bad luck and will cause the building you are in to catch on fire at some point. 

- Gecko's are good luck and ward off the creep crawls Minor Grade. 

- Moths represent death and its really bad luck if you kill them.  Most likely it will bring death or disease such as neumonia or mild colds. 

- Never keep your back to a doorway,  a mirror or a room. Things move in the shadows where we do not look and can crawl inside. 

- Cats are un-luck. As are crows. Able to navigate the hidden doorways and slip-ways of our world.   Occasionally they bring good fortune and at other times they herald oncoming horrors. If you are often followed by such creatures it means that you are of-kin,  a familiar with associations to Loki and with similar attributes. Crows and cats also increase access to the in-between places. 

- Don't step on cracks in footpaths. They are slip-ways and can bring bad luck. 

- Beware getting shit on by a crow,  it brings terrible bad luck for a day. 

- Snakes are good luck. (pythons,  cobras and green tree snakes). 

- Green tree frogs are good luck and ward against demons. 

- The presence of any other frog inside your home means a demon is within your walls.  DO NOT kill it but remove it as quickly as possible. 

- Be careful of what you say. Fate listens and enjoys playing the trixter and on occasion,  the executioner. 

- Breaking a mirror earns you seven hundred years of bad luck. 

- Always leave five cents at your front door or around the house.  It appeases and feeds the gremlins. 

- Always keep noise in the background,  silence breeds other things. 

- Be so scary that the monsters welcome you with open arms rather than teeth and claws. 

- Psalm 91 is an ancient ward against demons. 

See you on the other side of this nightmare season. 

Scar xx 

Just a Small Post-script to Lunacy: trigger warnin.

Where do demons go to rest? 

This night... 

This silence has no end. 

I see them now... 

The after-impressions the monstrosities leave in the air, 

Like the afterburn of a photo... 

Shredded clothes, 

Jagged teeth... 

Just behind me, 

Always moving... 

Fast as lightning. 

Some of the creatures i see clearly, 

Others through the cornees of my eyes... 

Others... 

Move in impressions. 

I seek my way further into the heart of darkness, 

I must see the true monsters... 

To see the abyss in its entirety. 

You think you know the darkness? 

The crawling,  shifting,  pulsing... 

Jittery-scritchy movements

And chattering and noises and white noise, 

In all the grey areas... 

The static,  the silence,  the noise behind the shower? 

That is there day or night, 

Always the creeping of distorted faces and creatures everywhere... 

Hiding knives everywhere in the fated hope that something, 

So useless... 

Will save us from beings that can be harmed by no blade. 

Inciting verses and symbols, 

Talismens and safeguards do not work... 

They are inside

And they are

Everywhere

And hungry

And murderous 

And here

Now

Now

Now here. 

The smallest of things can twist and warp, 

The smallest gears of the mind. 

A simple name... 

De Vermis mysteriis. 

And we bring the darkness through. 

Do you ever find yourself smiling upside down into a mirror? 

Don't... 

It traps your soul

And now all we say is this

Hahahahaha

Dont worry.. 

They are

Just getting me used to when these demons will ushur me sweetly into Hell. 

Doomed you see... 

Where do demons go when they're host is taken from them? 

To the Daughter... 

Do you need a rainstorm?

A thunderstorm has attached itself to me... 

Sleep Paralysis: Entry 01

There was a storm in my bedroom last night... 

In the darkest hour, 

Felt the chains bind tight... 

The pressure of a thousand fathoms crushing, 

Us down... 

The way the shadows warp, 

Even with the lights we keep on... 

How long we stay awake, 

The chattering in the darkness... 

Scuttling in the corners, 

Scuttles underneath... 

The white static noise, 

Deafening in our ears... 

The wind, 

Freezing that raged everywhere... 

The ravens that shrieked, 

Movement... Insects  on my hands... 

It doesn't matter if we stay awake, 

The monsters walk in the dark hours... 

Eyes sewed open, 

Eyes sewed close... 

Where do demons go when they are, 

Cast out of their host... 

They latch on, 

The legions... 

The feral hounds with their eyes, 

That burn apart... 

Us. 

More and more, 

You see the cycles of darkness we bring. 

Maelstrom in a bedroom... 

And we are laughing alone, 

In an empty house... 

We are never awake. 

Un-wake...

A tune unfinished... 

Drifts through these hours, 

Of hauntings and leviathans... 

I walked into the Between last night, 

To the place beyond the Long Pale... 

Somewhere near and far from the distance of day, 

The embrace of deepest night... 

Far past what has been left to us, 

This heart that is as foreign to us as a different planet. 

I travel through rooms that are all the same... 

The Arctic has seeped into the still places way below, 

These fingers grey and fractured... 

The cold has teeth, 

And this embrace has knives... 

As we pace in turn to the steps death stalks us, 

An endless dance... 

When Fate, 

Did you choose your fancy to bind these chains... 

The Marrionette you still manipulate, 

When it is broken... 

Still sweet silence, 

This deal struck... 

Of rules to a game we barely knew we were playing, 

These ghost s... 

These endless faces that haunt us in these half hours, 

Oh so sweet the addiction of darkness... 

We reap what we write, 

Not what we sew... 

And now you are to join their number, 

To become what was... 

A dream fading already, 

And lost. 

These hours slowly creep. 

Herre Fate, 

I do not want to dance anymore... 

I don't suppose a truce would be to your taste? 

Though knowing you... 

Youd enjoy luring me in with such a chance. 

You staked your claim over me years passed, 

And till death shall we part... 

This monstrous game, 

Shall go on. 

Here is a riddle... 
Here is an impossibility. 

A long time ago she wandered far away... 
She found her way to a forgotten sea shore, 
Felt the call of the darkness... 
The labyrinth that binds her mind. 

Long ago she decided to leave... 
To walk into the ocean, 
To let the eddies and waters erase and carry away. 

My bunny lies over the ocean... 
My bunny lies over the sea, 
Please won't the waves... 
Bring my bunny back to me. 

Endless miles she was swept away... 
Until something heard, 
Something saw... 
And came for her. 
It dragged her down... 
Amidst the lights that rose up, 
And now she slumbers deep below... 

Open your eyes, 
Be you... 
I see a reflection of you in every image, 
Movement... 
Distraction, 
Book. 

She sleeps... 
She always sleeps, 
And i cannot wake her... 
I cannot wake you anymore. 

The Slink-way Carousel...

11.23 p.m.

 

You step out into the night,

and in the darkness...

a carousel,

there sits.

Like a universe in faded and broken lights...

A tune creeps amongst the shadows,

winds about the gilded flashing mirrors...

Nestles into your ears and close to your heart.

 

You breathe out,

breathe white against the dark.

You draw near to the strange music...

The faded patterns and a cold,

broken laugh that suddenly rises amidst...

The flash of a fractured face...

A wicked grin,

upon a face of shadows...

Click-clicking claws,

swiveling eyes.

But still you draw near...

You step up, 

and you notice for the first....

The way the tune is beating,

how it catches and repeats, 

you press your fingers against a delicately carved spire and beyond....

Amidst the colours,

eyes the colour of flint glint out at you,

a pale skin and a savage smile beaneath a Stage Masters' torn hat...

As the creature spins into view,

and sweeps its' hat off in a theatrical bow to you...

His teeth seem to lengthen and twist as he grins from beneath that bow,

and then he is beside you...

Everywhere like the shadows,

as surely he ushers you on with a wink...

 

'Trail my way night-child...' he whispers in a voice of madness.

'Come to my tinkering-lounge.

Sit down, sit...

and perhaps we shall palavar,

mayhaps we shall dance...

maybe we will perform a little galavant of Fate.'

A slamming bar tune fills your ears,

as the man guides you round and round the carousel until...

Louder,

the thundering bar tap-tap evolves into,

a broken piano...

An old dragon sits there...

and he plays,

he jives...

He slams those keys down as smoke drifts from his nostrils,

to coil above the keys...

The dragon smiles at you,

as the lights seem to dance... 

and the madman twirls you around

 and forces you into a silently floating carriage...

Led by ten gold steeds.

As the dragon continues to hammer away,

that jaunting melody...

The madman crouches down beside you,

grins...

and then pulls out a blade from his tattered coat.

He balances it by its' tip upon his palm,

flips it...

A silver lighting his eyes,

before he offers it to you.

 

'Play our music,

dance our game...

Carve yourself a soul if you would deign too,

upon this merry-as-Hell carousel of ours...

But do mind the rain.'

You take the blade from him...

You do as he suggests,

you carve a mark of soul...

Upon the nearby wall.

Thunder deep as bones of the earth,

and light as silver as that blade scorches apart the star-filled sky...

Clouds form at the speed of sound.

'Watch them coil...

watch them murl.' the madman sings.

The dragons' banging tune rises into the mayhem of the storm.

It shivers.

It mists,

then it pours.

The tune becomes inseperable from the rain...

As a final flash of silver lightning,
Blinds the world...
The world returns,
The lighting flees...
Into pure onslaught of Rain,
Stealing the Dragon away with it...
and the piano stands empty.

The carousel emits a warped screech...
A warped shudder,
and then the madman is beside you again.

The rain pours.

Ten of the carousel lights flicker,
and then burst...

He holds out his hand to you,
and helps you to your feet...

He leads you to the edge of the carousel,
as the world is dark and water before you...
You turn once more,
to gaze at the faded splendor...
Of that slink-way carousel,
then you look at him.

The madman grins magnificently at you,
and removes his rag-tag hat.
He drops his hand inside...
and after a brief struggle,
he yanks an umbrella from within...

'I bid you well,
dear night-child,
dear hoot...
and I hope to see you again very soon.
Let this carousel remain tucked away in your heart...
A glowing illuminance,
To light the dark.
We are here in the corners,
where your eyelids blink...
and now always,
your soul shall be engraved here.'

The madman offers you the umbrella,
 with a last smile...
and a wink,
and then promptly pushes you out into the street.

The rain plummets,
yet swiftly the umbrella you lift...
and hurriedly race to reach your porch.

The hour upon your watch chimes twelve...
As you turn one last time,
to look.

Far away now,
the carousel sits...
twinkling like a mini universe,
and even as you watch,
it shrinks further
and further away...

Fracturing into the night,
and emitting one final gasp...
Of golden lights and a haunting music,
it disappears.

Is gone.

But there still...
Haunting your heart.

Hey there dear ones,
It's been such a while but my computers been evil.

Four days ago, before the rain began, the door to Eternity opened in my mind again. It brought with it an impression, sometime around midnight that if I stepped outside into my street I'd see a carousel a-lit with lights waiting for me.

These words came to me after that.

I hope you have enjoyed our,
Slink-way carousel.


Miss C.L.Scarlett xx

 

 

Sleeping Universes Out Way...

 

Last Words of

Tom Whitman:

 

'Imaginareum.'

 

 

 

 

'I'd hoped to hear the chords played again one day,

Without them I am lost in this nothingness...

Wandering after far off music,

in a desert of ashes...

If the tune had a colour,

it would be a mixture of pink and red...

Constantly afraid of it fading away,

terrified of the silence that may come...

My final memories are pulling me to the end of a black alley.

There's a door in the darkness,

I struggle to find my way through the door...

I can hear it clearly now,

The most beautiful melody ever created by man...

I enter the room,

and there forever remains...

that change from G to E minor.'

 

 

 

 

We are haunted by these shadows of ours...

the world that sometimes,

is more real to us than this...

This now.

Autumn leaves are falling in my soul...

and he has come back for me,

to take me far from here...

he was always waiting,

but now I go far away...

I must,

and until then...

I bid you,

Farewell.

 

Miss C.L.Scarlett xx

 

 

 



La Forteresse...

 
 

La Forteresse...

 

Lat Infinita.

 

Welcome back...

 

to

 

ilmaginareum Macabrett.

 

 

 

 .......

 

 

 

Today we invite you...

dear Sir and MadMadam,

to walk our boardwalks...

by the light of our bloodthirsty moon.

 

Shortly you will reach a place...

where someone,

will be waiting for you...

If you please,

do venture on...

 

 

 

 

Make haste,

for the night has teeth...

and the creatures listen,

beneath the waters...

of this vast and vast ocean,

dark and fabulous...

 

You walk forward,

through air that brushes its' chilling fingers...

against your skin,

wind so sharp...

that it carves patterns upon your face,

the way the boardwalks groan...

and shift,

the small whisperings beneath...

the strange echoes,

high up in the dark...

the walkway winds,

and curves...

 

In parts you venture through fog,

so deep and blinding...

physical and shifting,

that it suffocates your mind...

your lungs,

throws shards....

 through the rivers of your blood,

where faces grin out through the white...

those you have lost,

those you have forgotten...

long past where we no longer go,

where the dust gathers in worlds...

and the centuries where we have closed our eyes.

 

You follow the boardwalk as it drops...

just below the waterline,

and the fog c l e      ars...

 

You see the great creatures,

that slip and writhe beneath the waters' surface...

near where your feet slide,

the colours...

the glint of teeth,

trails of darkness...

coral,

and hands...

reaching up about the mould-ridden walkway,

the currents that swirl about your ankles...

the salt that clings to your skin and throat,

gentle waves and a brightening sky...

of eternal blue,

endless horizon...

Gentling breeze,

and you see...

Rising higher from the water,

the boardwalks end...

Upon which rests,

a tent...

a pavilion,

resplendent...

and yet as quiet all about,

as the way the earth turns...

The door is open,

shadows lie within...

and a sign angles its' crumbling way by the door.

 

 

ilmaginareum Macabrett

Presents...

As an honoured guest,

Of...

La Forteresse,

we give you...

 

De Saint Louis.

 

You step through the doorway,

and find yourself...

in the smallest of bazaars.

 

You glimpse faded colours...

Bones worn away,

heady scents...

Curious delights,

volumes etched with dust...

At its' centre,

perched amongst the shadows...

sits a being.

 

His face is a mask,

that both laughs and screams...

and he has a presence of dust,

of things that time has rubbed away but not destroyed...

an eternal enigma,

shadows surround him like a cloak...

and way back there,

somewhere in the dark...

feathers or leaves shift,

the weight of something heavy...

a deep fire.

 

 

 

He lifts his head...

and his eyes dance a dark dance,

as he inclines his head to you...

Briefly his wolf-like teeth flash out to you,

in a grin as fleeting as the lightning...

 

'Writing a story,

is like writing a song...

creating a symphony.'

the being laughs.

'A stage waiting...

to be filled with the light,

we weave into images...

That we channel,

into notes of fire...

that they can taste,

hear and see.

This is now the teaching you must learn...

to attain the eternal laugh,

the backwards grin...

The jesters foolhardy.

 

 

This is how they taught us the way...

If the horror comes for you,

open the door...

run and dance to meet the monster,

stare it in the face...

get right up close and good,

and scream laughter at it...

Often the darkness finds ways,

to get inside...

to find a way in no matter the light,

you have held to...

To live in such a state,

is not possible...

For eventually,

all of what is your heart shall be torn apart...

by their hunger,

their spite of all creation...

all that was good,

all sanity...

and reason,

until everything is warped.

The only way...

is to reach an affinity with the chaos,

to balance the line...

Some choose to wear the Darkness upon their face,

to take up the knife...

to pull on with glee the mantle of madness,

anger...

the Dark itself,

as the mask it is...

You parade the mask,

take on the terrifying humour...

To ensure the demons let well enough alone,

to sub-exist in the labyrinth...

You must become the epiphany of balance,

 So that to the Darknesses that plague you...
You are one of them.

The time will come...
when you will set that mask on fire,
grin as they see the true light that your illusion of darkness...
hid,
that they would see the Dark...
and accept it as a part of you but separate,
what will one day...
be let drop to the ground,
while we run and shriek away...
Faster then than all the winds of the world,
where we take back those arms of the Heavens...
that enabled us flight,
that let us unshackle these chains...
and see the true power,
we held...
What we abused,
and distorted...
Now we are flight,
and we are the storms...
the deep rumbles,
the centre of this universe...
its' engravings,
its' turnings...
Its' pulse.
So we rest in this stead...
and pull out the blade,
shatter the reflection that leers at us...
and set these sails alight,
as we seek the shores...
That have always held captive,
our hearts of stone...
and breathed them living again.
Eternal.
Remember my words...
The words of,
De Saint Louis...
and turn the tides.
Go back now...
and open your eyes.'

Lat Infinita...

...La Forteresse.

Into Forever...

...Into this Fortress.

 

 

 

  Much love to you all... Something is changing, can't you feel it? Hopefully, I will be permitted to write to you again sometime soon and if not then for Autumn's first breath.

 

  Miss CLScarlett xx 

 

 



The Twenty-Three Seas...





Black water trails paths,

 down the walls of this house...

burning grooves in the wood,

and seeping its' arctic mist into your mind...

into your moods.

 

You hear the ocean heaving beyond...

the fragile walls,

listen to the scratching of wind...

against the windows,

feel the heavy cold...

deep within your bones.

 

The rain has been falling for a millennia now...

and we have long forgotten the feel,

of warm skin against our own...

the brilliance of the afterglow of day,

forgotten a breeze that does not claw at our cheeks...

wearing away memory,

and time...

into distance.

 

 

 

Often we sit...

upon the dark rocks that surround,

this ever raging sea...

Feel the salt clogging our lungs,

the wind that ravages us with taunting fingers...

the agelessness of this land.

 

A long time ago...

we sewed within ourselves,

a flame...

a glim-light,

to light up the darkness of our souls...

and so we sit and wait,

wait for this oncoming storm...

as the land grows colder,

and our skin as the stones...

 

Our only reflections are captured beneath,

the tidal rock pools that scatter the beaches...

and cliffs,

we see ourselves...

only as a shimmering of water,

movement...

endlessness,

then briefly...

gone.

 

 

 

Can you tell us...

the truth behind what curses us?

Why we wait...

 

Can you sing to us...

can you unravel,

 the symphony our genes create?

 

Where do our glim-fires rest...

when we are centuries-past dust,

and rested well between the bones of the earth...?

 

Can you tell us these things?

For in one way or another...

they have been lost to us,

in the quiet...

in the whistling wind,

that brings change...

and sight,

but forgetting.

 

The strength to be alone...

and yet not.

 

We whisper everyday to the shells...

to the creatures of the deep,

the wales that travel skies far above...

and the small ones that live,

beneath us...

We tell them our stories,

what might be...

and what has,

and what will...

 

 

 

Aeons before,

we learnt that there was a way to come back...

and a way to see beyond,

to open the right door...

and see the path out of our labyrinth,

What we forgot...

was that the labyrinth saw,

the labyrinth heard...

and it came for us,

but...

that is a song we shall never sing,

not ever again.

 

Now we dwell in the timelessness of this ocean...

this land,

ever-stormy...

ever-colder,

and always we wait...

 

 

 

We watch the night patterns that scour the skies,

the dancing of the planets...

the illumination that fills the depths of the sea,

the figure...

shadowed and tall,

who always appears in the first three minutes...

of the third hour of the morning,

the hour we know as darkness...

Upon the sea edge.

 

 

We hear the song the dunes sing into the world...

and the brief memory,

like the most Brilliant of stars...

of seeing the universe,

melt into us...

into our forever,

until we are...

consumed.

 

 

 

 

 

 Hey there lovely dreamwalkers...

 

     It just so happens that at long last, I am twenty-three years old tomorrow...on the 23rd of the 2nd month. For humour and disbelief's sake, I have placed below a list of the many significant facts about 23; for those who also have this number in their lives...

 

 

  1. 23 is the most commonly cited prime number and the only prime number that consists of two consecutive prime numbers.

2. Two divided by three makes 0.666 recurring

3. The Hiroshima bomb was dropped at 8.15am - 8+15= 23.

4. Charles Darwin's Origin of Species was published in 1859 - 1+8+5+9 = 23.

5. The Sept. 11th attacks: 9+11+2+0+0+1 add up to 23.

6. Each parent contributes 23 chromosomes to the start of human life. The nuclei of cells in human bodies have 46 chromosomes made out of 23 pairs. Egg and sperm cells in humans have 23 chromosomes which fuse and divide to create an embryo.

7. Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times.

8. Kurt Cobain was born in 1967 and died in 1994 - 1+9+6+7= 23, 1+9+9+4 = 23.

9. The Knights Templar had 23 Grand Masters

10. The first morse code transmission - "What hath God wrought?" - was from the Bible passage Numbers 23:23. In telegraphers code 23 means "break the line"

11. "W" is the 23rd letter of the alphabet. It has two points down and three points up. Half of W is V, which is the roman numeral for 5.

12. The "W" on your keyboard is right between the 2 and 3.

13. E is the fifth letter of the alphabet, and also the most commonly used in the English language. Half of W is V, which is the roman numeral for 5.

14. The average human physical biorhythm is 23 days.

15. The Titanic sank on 4/15/1912; 4+1+5+1+9+1+2=23.

16. The tilt of Earth’s axis is roughly 23 degrees.

17. The pattern of DNA shows irregular connections at every 23rd section

18. Humans have 23 vertebra running down the main part of their spines

19. Blood circulates the body on average every 23 seconds

20. The average circumference of a human head in inches is 23

21. The Harmonic Convergence occurs every 23,000 years.

22. Geosynchronous orbit occurs at 23,000 miles above Earth’s surface

23. 23 Annunaki aided in the seeding of life on this planet.

24. April 19th as in 4-19... 4 + 19 = 23. April 19 is the date the Battle of Lexington, Waco, and the Oklahoma City Bombing.

25. Asteroid researchers measuring the rotation periods of asteroids reported that none were found with periods of less than 2.3 hours. A rotation period of less than 2.3 hours would cause them to be torn apart.

26. B.C.E the politically correct term meaning "Before Common Era", or more to the point, before the supposed birth of Christ B, C, E: the 2nd, 3rd, and 5th letters of the alphabet

27. The most frequent numbers in the Book of Revelations are 4 (the powerful beasts), 7(seven seals, seven churches, etc.), and 12 (12 apostles, etc.). 4+7+12=23

28. I Corinthians 15:56, Paul said "The sting of death [23] is sin and the strength of sin [13] is the law [10]."

29. The address of the Freemasons lodge in Stafford, England is 23 Jaol Rd. In New York it is on 23rd street.

30. There are 2,300 stones comprising the Great Pyramid

31. There are exactly 23 characters, numbers and letters on the face of all U.S. coins

32. On December 23, 1805 the Federal Reserve Act passed in congress. 

  Just some facts to make you feel so much safer hehe...all I can say is that this year may be interesting....

 

  Much Love,

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

 

 

All my thoughts have washed away...

my only desire is to see the other side of this coin,

to reach a place where time stands still...

where there are no time pieces ticking,

no eyes perceiving...

no moods influencing,

peace...

and the endlessness of the sea,

one day...

One Day.

 

Lat Infinita.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 



Frozen Aeons...

 

 

The whistling silence,

It bores holes in distant places...

Deep beneath our earth,

the grey warrior sleeps...

We feel these battle-torn rivers,

overflowing their banks...

To seep ice through our halls,

fog through our mind...

and we only ever dream of monsters now,

something waking in our bones...

Claws ticking and nicking the slow hours away,

spinning tunnels of depth...

Where we seek blindly for the door,

A way out...a way out...

See the ways,

we have already lost ourselves to the nothing.

Sleep, scream...spin,

Doesn't it just make you...

want to laugh and laugh,

these ghost-hours away?

I hear it coming now...

This storm of death,

the approaching darkness beyond this empty plain...

The dread that grows more viciously,

for there is no place...

not anymore,

to run...

to hide.

We look at those 2D images...

That dart their way about us,

doing this and that...

unaware of the darkness,

breathing down our necks...

Wake up,

wake up and see.

I see only death waiting...

out there,

Out wide...

The sun has gone,

and we have plunged beneath...

Frozen aeons.

 

Miss CLScarlett xx



ilmaginareum Macabrett

 

 

Our first symbol,

given to us this year...

was the blue Kingfisher.

 

We have always believed in signs,

in happenings...

slip-ways and symbols,

that there is a pulsing heart of the world...

the great puzzle box of life,

that manoeuvres us...

and changes,

press the right surface...

and a new world will unfold.

 

We see the connections...

feel the press of all their spirits,

against our skin...

the energy of everything living,

bolstering us up...

at one point we were something like angels,

but a kind of the seas and wild storms.

 

Your mind traces the dark forests that surround our home...

and eventually their black and twisted branches,

etch upon your mind...

an eternal mark.

 

 

We found the fallen kingfisher...

the pale one and I,

in the deepest part of the forest...

near the place where once we died,

and saw the white stones...

felt the mist,

his claws...

their claws,

the thousands of claws.

 

It was only distant now...

and hear,

the kingfisher...

as a symbol of Totem,

the kingfisher represents the unseen...

moving forward,

enlightenment...

and was also considered a messenger for such creatures,

as water nymphs...

even the gods.

 

Now.

 

A small experiment if you Please...

 

We are delighted to welcome you to...

 

iImaginareum Macabrett.

 

 

Turn off the music...

Listen instead to ours,

focus in on my voice...

come just a little bit closer,

now sit...

 

Feel the shadows coil about you,

the wooden, creaking floor beneath your bare feet...

The smell of this place is insatiable,

is it not?

The scent you have always followed...

beyond where your dreams led,

something like musk...

oak,

salty air...

Such a dusty,

ancient smell.

 

The tune you say?

We have no name for it here...

though it has played throughout our many lives,

but what we do know...

is that the longer you listen,

the more you become...

hypnotised.

 

 

 

Hear the rasping, soft hiss of drums,

the chanting, echo singing that rises about...

the tapping of bone against claw,

against bone...

the thudding of thousands of feet,

a million drums...

beating,

hammering...

rusking,

tapping....

slamming,

shuddering...

each beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat....

into your mind.

 

Tap, tap...

splinter,

tap...

tap.

 

Now...

take care dear fellow,

for many have become swallowed whole...

by our music,

for it is a leviathan...

the same as our many others.

 

I want you to imagine something for me now...

if it would trouble you not,

for we are a jester court of dreams and nightmares...

the arts of shaping blank space,

into palaces...

skies,

planets and universes.

 

Imagine the world...

as a single dark globe.

 

 

Towns and cities...

people and beasts,

are lost to our memory...

and a million hundred years of dust,

shift and moan in storms across this expanse...

of world.

It is silence,

absence...

lifeless,

dead.

 

Now...

you are floating down towards its' surface,

you feel your toes dip into the dust...

it feels like nothing,

less than nothing...

a thousand particles finer than air,

opening about you...

you sink past your legs,

your stomach, your neck...

your mouth,

and finally you are swallowed completely...

you sink down,

further and further...

miles down,

Everest's down...

sea abysses further,

the world blindness and deafness about you...

You sink for months,

until finally...

you reach its' end,

you fall into bitter cold...

and the softest of glowing blue lights.

 

 

 

You land a second later,

falling to your knees...

and sitting up.

You are at the very centre of this dead world...

in a circular room as small,

as a cupboard.

The blue light emits from a single grey candle...

at the rooms very centre,

and the room is so cold...

that you can no longer feel your fingers,

your toes...

your heart.

You glimpse your nails turning blue,

as you look to the candle.

 

It is then that you see,

beside the candle...

a very large crow,

as dark as the darkest of darks...

its' eyes are the same silver,

of the candle.

 

 

 

It cocks its' head and stares at you,

seeming to smile or glare or weep.

 

'There is no hope left in this dead world,

but in yours...

in your time,

perhaps.

Here is the riddle I shall impart to you,

that may definitely or may definitely not...

save your world,

from just such a fate.' the crow cried, laughed and shouted.

'Six more of something will come,

then two must die...

and something must be given,

and another thing taken...

before a choice,

must be made...

and a sacrifice done,

before an end will come...

only eyes that are unhindered,

will see the truth of the end...

or else all shall be lost,

and the world as this.'

 

 

 

Come back now dear friend...

from the deep depths of that cold,

dust-filled world...

come back to the warmth of our tents,

take this drink...

warm yourself by our fires,

for travelling so far is bitterly cold upon the soul...

what little you may have.

You have performed excellently well,

upon your first visit...

to,

 

iImaginareum Macabrett.

 

We do hope to see you again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey there Darlings,

 

    2015 is here, to be very un-melodramatic. So many strings tie me to what will come from this year, and still the silence persists. The second symbol of my year was the wasp, which apparently represents new beginnings, creation and productivity. I helped the wasp - which was caught in my house - to get back outside. Two animal rescues in two days....maybe I'll get to rescue a dragon tomorrow.

 

  I hope your year is filled with freedom and something like happiness.

 

Much Love,

   Miss CLScarlett xx