Chronomancy for persephone

Another fun little thingy from the past. Chronomancy in this day and age sure is a shit ton easier than before.

The practice of soul retrieval is an easy enough exercise, but it takes great patience and many tests of skill to master it.

Memories are crucial for this to work, combined with sensory triggers to slip the psyche into the right frame of mind.

Suspend disbelief for a bird’s eye view of your mindscape as landscape. Suspension of the anima/us can be seen to be achieved by the poised ascete.

Just sit there and empty your mind from your self. Silence is transcendent, the path of ascension. Or so I’m told. I wouldn’t know, that’s not the way I know how to follow.

If you’re anything like me, hyper stimulation is my meditation. Think of it like the escalator to heaven.

Here, let me show you the back way through the service elevator. This treat is on me, by way of my master (all access) key.

At the end of the scene, your disbelief is free to return to regular duties.

Are you ready, Orpheus? Do you remember me? Kalliope Veign, the muse who reigned as the modern mystic mother.

Remember the lessons I gave in the wyrd ways the waves work when you manipulate the music and move…

(Pro tip: this works all the better, only so long as you were an active record keeper.)

Erasure of face, name and place. A blank space remains, a bland girl narrates.

Witch final fantasy 7/8 takes on Morpheus?

17 February 2019 @ 2:05 pm.

A fade out transitional force, wiping out the memory this former Final Fantasy of kool. What does K look like now she’s a fool?

K is petite because she is short. Her banana shaped body looks like a 10. Straight up and down, and yet with and without a waist that bulges in the middle (legit there is a 2 cm difference in circumference between my waist and hips/bust). Lumpy space princess is my doppelganger.
And surprise surprise, cankles aside, 7/8 length capri’s are actually ideal for my 157cm (5’2″) tall form; my footprints are also small as I wear size 5/6 feet, (when you were sleeping, I remembered what I had to mention and then quickly, promptly, forgot again?) depending on the brand, so I tend to wear either a size 5 or a size 6.

12 houses, 12 signs, 12cups of wine. Raise your chalice, dear Alice, doublet down and goblet up. Return the door knockers, and there are too many cups. Don’t over do it, for 1 is enough.

When I wear the avatar of the final fantasy, I come to recognise a bunch of otherwise specific symbolic sets constellate and reposition themselves before me. It’s really quite mind blowing how quickly I can change the tone and direction of a scene – I move off at supra-syncretic speed, and you can’t help but succumb to the force of gravity.

The essence of my quintessence is ultra magnetic. I supersede wavelengths, I am the intuitive navigator. Today, I have decided to take our expedition party along an experimental route, I want to experiment along the time lines.

How do you feel about going back to the days when even the Archelon and the Archemyst were young, brazen, and so naive they thought themselves exempt from the blade..?

Come with me. Press your brow against mine, close your eyes, and hold me. Breathe in time with my breath. Feel our hearts fall in rhythm with each other. Yeah? Okay, good. Now – FALL.

Yeshua and Asherah kissing in a tree –

OMFG, GET OFF OF ME!

Khone and Anikesh… bright blush at see… where is the sure? No philistinas… I have lost my bartine’s brotzman? Song of my hole.

Egocentric self-absorption is sown and owed me through hyper space,

suprasternal conjure appearances, too, though I feel completely unchanged


WOLFGANG – SHE IS MY CAIN

She is my drug / She is my vein / She is my life / She is my pain / She is my wheat / She is my grain // I can abstain / Though I know / It’s so plain / She is my cain // Upon the night / I see her eyes / Her tears are my skies / Her heart beats my life // I can’t refrain / Though I know / It’s so plain / She is my cain // She is my night / She is my day / She is my sun / She is my rain // I can’t complain / Cause I know / She’s my bane / She is my bane


PET! OUTSIDER! SANDMAN OF PHONICS!

My left and my right, you are beside me again. The sound of my spirit, and the scratch of my imprint. He who carved my destiny into my bones. The names of my men who held on to me, she who was with them for she loved them. I am she who wailed with their hearts, in search of their souls, to bring them back home.

Metatron the writer, Sandalphon the musician and Shekinah the singer.

We are one. When four are three permeate home…? Tread wearily, my dears. I know notae the contemporary guardian statute ars memori…

I can see the throne approaches us now… dumaht make any sudden movements. I’ll take it from here.


Post, post reflection, how’s that for inception? I didn’t realise we’d be exercising chronomagic in a blog post of chronomagic?!

Hahaha, I out do myself.

Remember to first pathwork so you can planeswalk your way into this existence. Persephone, bringer of death, the first name you spoke through me. Bhairavi, the moon speaks to you too. Prosperina, Venus, Pluto, Poseidon nearby too. FFS, YOUR MAP. JUST REMAKE YOUR MAP. LAY IT FLAT.

Stand tall, warrior. Life star number 6. Stellar Selene, scream your yttrium sword into existence. Set and Karma down the river dharma. Remember you called for them, and wrote on their sails through the sunset. They’re ready when you are, little seidkona. Ate ingenue, ergo sum.

Fiat fiat focus fiant.

Orphic mystryl, kite minstrel kestrel.

Roger that, 15 April 2020.

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