September 23rd, Year 22

The time has come for me to explore a structured darkness. If I am to be queen of my own kind of Underworld, then I must behave as such. Mine are the hounds, the chains, the horrifying beasts, and the strict command.

I live inside a tornado, where I see myself quickly ascending. I am thrown against concrete, when I have come to believe that I will reach the Heavens I held in my eye‘s view. This scene repeats itself, because I have not learned to step away from it. For this reason, tonight saw me amongst a group of women who claimed to know secrets that were once common knowledge. Modern witches with firm feet, not to be seen rising with the aid of a magical room. And while I wish I could say that I walked away with half an answer, broken in three but still of some use, I did not.

I made sure to listen closely for a reveal, but instead there was chatter about men who were good for nothing, but sexual gratification. They spoke of the glory of a wine-soaked mind. They argued over who would bring what dish, for the Samhain celebration. And when my lack of interest was noticed by the group of rotund women, they remarked that I was withdrawn because I do not trust feminine energy. They suggested I let them bathe me, brush my hair, and shower me with affection. I nodded submissively. Some other day I will allow this, of course, I said. Then I left with the same longing I had brought with me.

I will remember that no good can come of a coven that advertises itself in newspapers, and badly designed websites. I will also remember that I promised to go to another gathering, because the Catholic faith still has a hold over me, which means I must be loyal to my masochism.

September 23rd, Year 22

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