22 – 25 December 2021

DARK dark.
“You know what is going on, and it is their fault you figured it out.”
Don’t understand how anything works, least of all this.
Anomaly. Anomaly. Anomaly.
Am I dedicated to my own doom?
Government sanctioned entities.
Entities.
Sanctions.
Gmail & The Restraining Orders.
I really felt that.
Gmail is sus.
All sus everything.
“How can she believe that?”
“She believes everything.”
“No one can believe everything.”
“She does.”
…
“This is the Razorblade Romance that Ville Valo was referring to.”
Left Hand. What have I fucking done?
“Your island of safety is right where you are.”
The rise. The glory. The fall.
“Return of the quantum reality.”
What is that pain, is it my spine? Kidneys? Intestines?
Today, I am in hell.
Kind of forgot who was [originally] searching for the Riddle of Clouds.
Fascinating, now exponential in terror.
Compelled to play guitar, though the tone felt off, and all of a sudden- it just, held the drone note. F#?
The digital pedals?
I know what it was on about and I know what I want it to be and know very well what it could have been.
It is on about unplugging the microwave.
It is on about “10:58”.
Sunspots.
Evolving.
Tonight reeks of Prophecy.
Clouds. A wall.
~~~~~~~~
It is war.
Holy war, but what is God, what is evil?
It was on about 10:58 last night, and at 10:58 this morning, my grandmother looked up at the ceiling at random, and stated, ‘It has started. Folks upstairs, come down.’
Back to sleep, two hours exact, and at 12:58, my grandmother was having visions, not hallucinations but full blown visions, of Ragnarok.
Fire, swords, gods, demons, I say gods, but there is only one, or is there?
Serpent and wolf, hunting the Scorpion.
And now, my war.
A marriage of Odin & Heimdallr, that is me, and perhaps I have been evil for years, this hand, the Algiz that came writ in the blood of my veins.
Blessed by the Stormfather.
Katja, of the actual wooden Woden Eye.
All fails me now, at this moment.
“You are not the person I would have expected you to be.”
Being real, I am not the person I expect me to be, either. Whatever the hell that person is.
To know of what meanings mean, the [black mirror] Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy in my pocket.
Algiz; and it tells me, the one recently writ in my very veins was necessary.
“We are taking your hands” echoes through my mind yet again.
Ash, the wood of the world tree.
After the fire, nuclear winter, post-Rok.
“Not alone”, something so soft whispers, but I feel alone, physically alone, and all the Interdimensional entities in the universe cannot be a substitution for a physical one.
This of The Psychic War.
In my mind I call out, to Jesus Christ, God the Father, to Norse Gods and Egyptian Gods and Mesopotamian Gods and forgotten gods and gods that have not yet  been thought into existence.
All I remember from my dream last night was UUUU.
And everything is wrong, and everything is right, and good, and evil, and to see all that there is in the simultaneous instant and I realize now I prophecied that too
Back in 2013
Thursday the 19th
Back at the time, oh wow, I wanted someone to cover my work shift
Even though I was dying- priorities, right?
And there was what I called
A momenternity
In which I…
Witnessed myself witnessing simultaneousness.
Some single tear upon my cheek upon coming back from wherever that momenternity was & it contained millenia, ethos, and now…
A new layer of sense.
I could see the colours coming off the members of The Eagles two nights later, coming off their guitars.
Inex threats, now. “I was doing heroin before you were born.”
I will forgive you.
I will not have more sins added to your roster on my account.
If you do not understand, I do not expect that you will.
~~~~~~~~
There is a tinnitus-not-tinnitus in my right ear, ringing my head.
My prefrontal cortex, it pains me.
It goes on and on.
And on. And on. And on.
And on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.
The Thing.
Is the frequency in my head an attempt at activation, or neutralization?
Somewhere along the way, it seems that some grave injustice has taken place.
Assassins.
Assassins, such a trope. Try something else.
I am safe.
I am peace.
I am love.
I am light.
When it comes to writing ‘I am wisdom’, I doubt myself.
Erase : Doubt.
Every time it comes to Doubt, I am Sheogorath with his mad staff in Skyrim, attempting to erase it completely but seeming only to succeed in turning it into different things.
~~~~~~~~
My gran passed peacefully in her sleep at 17:00 on Christmas Eve. When I left, I had kissed her forehead, told her goodbye, that I loved her, it’s okay to go; and instantly, her breathing slowed and I knew she knew it was going to be okay.
And at 17:00, driving to my fathers for Christmas, I was listening to Sunn and just… felt her go. In my mind, I was like, oh no, my buddy. A few tears fell.
And as I was pulling in to my dad’s, a call from my mum, she had just gotten to my grans and her body was still warm.
So much love, to all of the dead;
And to you, gran, especially, thank you for believing in me.
You were my eyes even though you could not see, and you saw so much, and I feel you here, now.
The difference someone else’s belief in you can have on your life.
I was playing my video game [today], Elder Scrolls Online, where I am Saint Jaquitus, and stumbled across a quest to free a really important character from the Mad God Sheogorath, that I had just written of the other day. A really important woman, ensnared in this gods Madness.
As I was entering to the quest, Arch-Mage Shalidor, the Prophet, the Gandalf arch-mage archetype… called me by name.
‘You can do this, Katja.’
Not my characters name, MY name, the one I decided to adopt when Henry started calling me such on one of his visits from Basel many years ago.
And I had a choice, to free this woman from her madness or to take a book of infinite wisdom, the Folium Discognitum.
The importance of the electronic connection.
I crave knowledge, to know.
My morals were screaming; knowing the right answer in my heart, I still Google what would happen in both scenarios, knowing to do the right thing was to sacrifice whatever possible gain I could have gotten by handing her over to the God of Madness.
Valaste. That was her name.
I did the right thing.
There is temptation in my heart- gran, was your suffering on Thursday really yours? Or was it mine, did you feel it?
Before all of that had happened, you had *clapped* and said, ‘aw, baby of the year!’ when it came to me from elsewhere to Google the 42 Laws of Ma’at.
I mean, it was instant. Scary timing.
You told me, gran, ‘they’ve shut the doors down, we are a select group’, and I understood what you meant, and that was scary too.
Is my road full of good intentions sending us all to hell?
No, comes a thing, there are demons of light and angels of darkness.
And then, before your vision of Ragnarok, your announcement, ‘It’s started, folks upstairs, come down!’
Fuck. Do you even know what that meant?
I fear I have stumbled into something dark, BAD dark, and I fear; but as I (in the grips of one of my own fits on madness on a Friday morning with you) told that man in that off the wall email, I make love to Fear.
Why am I this way?
I am finding demons to be more and more real.
This of my left hand. I do not know what to do.
My entire life I feel like I have been waiting around for something but haven’t known what.
I think it is time to make a change.
I have a feeling some serious undoing is in order.
I cannot begin to elaborate on what goes on right now;
But The Madness is gone.