#and a little tree right next to the spot thats growing on an angle like something big was pushing it to the side

[cheerfullycatholic]

The car in the woods hasn't moved but it looks like it was moved

[luziflor]

Update (long post)

So I wouldnt say I was astral projecting today. Much more of lighly travelling up there and getting to some sort of inbetween spot between here and there, maybe?

Background: Years ago in my coven my mentor had us do a meditation exercise. We would visualize roots growing from where we stood, and tree branches growing up from us. It would lead you into a starry space, and she taught us to put up a ward and shield there. You would then travel into the tree to get to something that was supposed to be a personal temple, to meet with your deities and such. Not really the same as astral home. So im gonna like.... push it up there. Or something. Point is, I have a home thing already its just not really in the right location yet, but is close-ish maybe. Another problem i have with this though is that I used to be into thoughtforms. I had a few, and they had pet dragons. We had a lovely home with lots of wooded areas and a sea and everything. I could tell that one was strictly in my head at the time though, as I used to get severe headaches and even feel the energy in my brain severely shift. Thats a different story, but causes me to again question if im actually doing anything or just creating more thats only my brain (then again, ive heard of egregores being able to see egregores of others or travel to their homes.... ). Clearly, I have some things to work through.

About the home/temple that was already there - literally was created by 16 year old me after seeing an aesthetic pic on tumblr. Maybe I can find it again but I really doubt it. Anyways, the inside is light and dark blue marble. It has gold accents, and greek styled columns. The whole thing is really an old greek looking place. I recall I had a waterfall or something in there that would cause severe damage to a real house but I liked the look so it didnt bother me. There is a white greek statue of a woman in there but I could not tell you who it is. To the left there is an altar. The original was above a stone fireplace.

How its been updated: Same color scheme, theme, and random statue. The water feature was changed though, now its a small pond outside my house with a mini rock waterfall. Like for turtles. My altar is now a weird wooden desk bookshelf hybrid, that doesnt fit the theme at all. But its pretty. And I added a pet altar, it came to me as a wooden slab on metal legs or something, and it has wings that fold upward on it. Very cheesy but its a lovely piece, so I let it be. It has constant offerings of meat, water, and leaves or veggies to my passed away pets. I´ve also made it so they have a space where they can come and go as they please. I was also interacting with my deities and like uh hey guys u can make your own rooms if you want, just follow normal human rules. And I dont think any of them except Hecate did, and she did it immediately hahahah. But its not something I expected from her, though I am new to her as well. She made one that is kind of like a cave? And it had glowing amber light from the inside, and a gold metal accent piece at the top. She placed it very close to my altar but not rudely close. Apparently theres also a kitchen in there but its much more modern looking, and I got blocked from going in there (see below). I added new shields and wards, and a symbol appeared to me but its not related to any deity or anything. It came as I was setting up the shield and looking for sigils too. Its at a weird angle, a bunch of buildings mostly sky scrapers on a flat street. Below it are one line going down, and two lines attached to it with arrows or something going out. I would also like to point out that I huge painted ball python wrapped itself around my house, but it only came in images and energy I cant actually see it on the house.

Experience this time: Went in, established my being there. Looked around, was mostly the same as when I left it though some features such as my altar and water had been changed. Basically anything that worked with elements had disappeared really, or left behind a mild energy and base to build off of again. 

Welcomed in my deities to talk to them. Had a great meeting with Zeus, Poseidon, Lilith, and for the first time, Hecate (though I have interacted with her already).

Hecate was the first I greeted. She had her hair in a nice smooth updo, and looked like an oil painting. Im still working on visualization, she didnt move much  but I heard her speaking and felt the energy. She also had a golden bird metal band in her hair, which surprised me as well. Shes very nice so far, though i find it funny that she, mother of witches, had to put her room right next to my altar (which only has one side available). I thanked her for her work with me so far, especially as my oldest dog passed just recently, and I have another one whos young and sick now (he is much better today!).

Then was Lilith. When i first saw her, she was old and cranky but none the less friendly to me. Just kinda like a grandma with a temper. That had been in winter. Now as it is summer here (or spring? guate is weird), she came to me as a woman who had to be 19-early 20s. She had light olive skin, and swamp green eyes with slit pupils. She had brown loose curled hair that was every so slightly frizzy and very full. She was full human, but this time her body was super limber and a bit long like a snake. She was in a plain white dress, but it was like you could feel that her abdomen had a very specific shape that was like a snake. She was lovely, very kind, and patient with me as always. She is sweet but definitely has a jokester and teasing energy about her. After I left her, a huge californian king snake wrapped itself up around my shoulders just to chill, and I felt his scales moving across my shoulder. I havent held a snake in years, and I know for a fact my old cal king has died.

Next was Zeus. He is so much like a father figure to me, and he was very cheerful. Unfortunately because I havent really met up with him in a very long time, he looked to me like the animated Neptune from Little Mermaid. Yeeaah, sorry man. But he was fine none the less. We have a good relationship, he was glad to see me reaching out to them again. Even though I could not see him as he is for me, I could feel his energy. For me he is very hearty, and big. Its like santa clause with an attitude problem. (sorry pops)

Finally, Neptune/Poseidon. This one has been confusing for me as he presents himself to me as both. First it was more of Neptune, but now more of Poseidon. While Zeus is more like a father to me, Poseidon is the one that has all of my interests or is coincidentally related to weird things that happen to me. While Zeus has always been like a father, Zeus and I were more detached to begin with. But Poseidon was always the sweet uncle who related to what I liked and taught me valuable lessons. Today I saw him and felt him at the time, but once I was recording it in my journal I forgot almost everything about the experience other than it was super nice. 

There was some point where I had looked down, and noticed I had on partial armor in the color of gold on my legs and on my lower arms. Then I saw light dusty blue fabric draped over my arm, and more detail came from there. I was somehow wearing a stereotypical greek dress, but also bits of gold armor. I looked into a mirror and also saw that I had on a golden crown which felt a bit much in my tastes, but it was lovely so I kept it anyways! 

I saw my old dog Molly in there, though we didnt interact. Muffin, my recently passed, was there too. And I met up with her, and while I cant for sure say it was her it was good to have a few moments where I felt like I was playing with her again and hearing her weird snorts she makes when shes happy. My physical body had started crying after that. I could feel her bones again, if it was her shes happy but needs some serious vetting, which is probably the case anyways. Hopefully the offerings and me getting more experienced will help as time goes on. 

In my pet altar, I opened the drawer and found pictures. The only one I could really make out was one of my passed kitten, Possum. Possum had been a soul mate of a cat for me, ive never felt a connection like that before. And when he was passing away in the middle of the night across my whole house, I woke up for no reason not feeling tired at all. Then something told me to go outside because I had to go get him. He died a few hours after that, and im broken hearted to this day. 

At the beginning of this whole thing, I created an athame. Its based off of the ones they sell here but I have yet to actually get my hands on. Its made of metal and stone, and the tip of the handle has a tigers head. This one is a regular athame but I was immediately moved to make it into something to defend me from malicious spirits as well. I immediately slipped it into a knife holder that happened to be around my waist.

I was going to the kitchen, as my deities had left, there were no pets running around in there (maybe Muffin, but I had been interuppted in the physical world so our session broke off), so I was lonely and wanted to explore. I immediately felt blocked from going in there, and a black figure flew out at me. I felt just about nothing from this experience so I dont think that part was real (and I will go into more detail about this in a second). I grabbed my knife, stabbed it in the head, and the spirit was passed out or whatever for a second. I took it outside and realized I could removed the black around it, it was just cloth. It was what appeared to be some sort of white teenager, but the look of him really made me feel like he was not modern times. I dont know. Ive never seen him before either, and again, I didnt feel any panic from this at all. Only when i got blocked from the kitchen.

When I had egregores, I had a nice home for them. But in the upstairs I would hate going to because a black figure would come up to me. I would feel panic and even feel this in the physical realm sometimes. It is not around me anymore I dont think, or if it is, its only kept in my mind so its something personal I would assume. He was banished long ago, I changed their house, and didnt see him ever again. I questioned that experience at the time but it felt more real than the one I had earlier today. I dont know. 

Long story short- met up with the deities, Hecate had to put her room next to my altar, new guards up, snake things happened, might have killed a spirit but maybe nah, maybe hung out with my deceased dog for just a few seconds.

[exper-i]

original content wtf

this is a rather cliche horror story thats trying to disguise itself as a humorous telling in the beginning, but i had fun and thats what matters

Most plants, as a rule, are fairly good things to have around. They create oxygen, they’re a nice green colour, they have pretty flowers on occasion. They grow along the back fence so I don’t have to talk to my back neighbour who decides that every time he locks eyes with me he has to enter a long-winded conversation on his kids, whom I really do not care about in the slightest. Keeping me from having to see him is really one of the nicer things plants have ever done for me. Some plants produce things you can eat. The ones that produce poison are generally pretty avoidable-- you don’t eat them, they won’t make you puke. You don’t touch poison ivy, it won’t make you itch. Pretty straightforward.

Suffice to say, plants are, if not pretty good, neutral at minimum. I like plants.

There is one plant, however, that I do not like. If a plant could be evil, this is one I would give as example.

It sits, squat and unpleasant, on the left-hand corner of the tiny front yard my house possesses. Other than this plant, my yard is very pleasant. I’ve cultivated its tiny space carefully with bushes, flowering plants near the door, and even a maple tree I’ve managed to squish into the right-hand corner. (I did most of this under the impression I could put enough non-grass plants down in order to prevent having to mow. It did, but in exchange I have to trim them and I’m no longer entirely sure which is more of an ordeal.) The yard is perfectly presented in order to balance being pretty with being manageable. Most people think it’s nice.

The goddamn palm is the only thing I cannot control.

It was there when I moved in, and judging from how it resists every single attempt I make to kill it, it will be there when I move out. Or die. Probably it’ll outlive me. And I could respect that resilience, leave the plant to its own devices, were it not such a pain in the ass.

It’s ugly, first of all, and completely unkillable. Short of hiring an excavator to remove it, I have done everything imaginable to kill it. I have poured bottles of plant killer on that thing’s roots. I have cut its leaves to the point that any less annoying plant would have given up and wilted on the spot. But this one? This plant stays exactly where it is, regenerating after anything I do to it as fast as any plant can possibly grow.

I don’t know what it is, actually. I’ve checked books, searched online, posted pictures of it in botanist’s forums, and all I’ve ever gotten was a shrug. It looks like some kind of sago palm, but not quite. It sits on a massive, fat trunk, with the triangular layers of bark palms have coming off in oddly thick spikes. The trunk is too big for me to theoretically get my arms around-- if I wanted to do something like that, God forbid-- but short, only coming about three feet up. It’s oblong with a bulge in the middle, a little like an egg. The leaves at the top are almost exactly similar to your average palm leaves, but they’re a bit too spiky too. Especially around the base. The tips are sharp and the base of the leaves has protrusions that have actually drawn blood before, gotten shoved into my hand when I try to prune the tree. Getting them out is awful-- and they’ve made me bleed even while I was wearing work gloves. There’s more spiky protrusions around the top of the trunk, in between leaves. It’s weirdly oily when I touch it; even if the gloves weren’t necessary to prevent getting stabbed, I’d wear them so as to not have to touch it directly. I’ve never gotten a rash or anything from the plant, but I’d rather not risk it.

Here’s the thing, though.

So it’s July, right? Hot as hell out, middle of summer, drought, all that. It hasn’t rained in weeks. Everything in the yard looks terrible. I feel bad for it, but I’m not one of the guys that waters their lawns in the middle of a drought warning because I’m your general law-obeying citizen and winning some hypothetical lawn contest really is not that important. Everything’s looking pretty brown, or at least sad, except the palm. Of course. In fact, it’s looking better than ever, the trunk getting even bigger and rounder.

I know desert plants are adapted to deal with drought, but even the hardiest of cacti show that they suffer with astronomical heat and no rain for three months.

I guess it’s better to have something healthy than nothing healthy.

When I go out to prune it, the dog, Hestia, bothers to come with me for once. She usually just gambols around the front yard and enjoys her lack of responsibilities while I do yard-work, but I guess she’s curious. She watches as I grab one of the palm’s leaves, careful to avoid the pointy spots, and inspect it. It’s been leaning down, looking as if it were wilting, though without losing any of the green colour. Hestia stays a decent distance from it, behind me and with her stubby ears pricked in fixated attention.

The frond is drier than usual, lacking the slightly-sticky texture the plant usually has. Must be because of the drought. So the stupid thing is suffering. Good.

I give it a sharp tug, just to see what happens. What happens is the leaf starts to pull away from the trunk, but the second the base separates, it lets out this nasty, pungent smell. I drop the branch immediately to cover my mouth and cough. Even Hestia back off, scrunching her nose in distaste and chuffing, and dogs are never ones to avoid things that smell as putrid as possible. It smells like rot-- not the earthy kind of plant rot, not the kind you smell when you come across a decomposing tree. It’s flesh-rot, something putrid that’s been sitting in a damp corner and decomposing for a few days. It’s maggots and miasma and madid.

The plant must have caught something and started rotting internally.

If nothing else it makes getting rid of it much more of a priority. Out of something-- curiosity, determination to finish a job, masochism, I don’t know-- I grab the leaf and yank as hard as I can. It pops off reluctantly, another wave of the putrid smell following after it. I drop the leaf to the ground in favour of bending over and coughing, trying my best not to gag. After a minute or so, the smell lessens. I rub at my nose with a forearm and stand up once my head isn’t solely consumed with the stench of rot.

Hestia’s there, sniffing hesitantly at the leaf, her big Rottweiler body all bunched up as if she’s prepared to make the fight or flight decision at any second.

“Pretty fuckin’ weird, huh, Hes?” I cough out at the dog. She glances up at me if to agree, then resumes her sniffing. “Don’t roll in that,” I add on as an afterthought. That’d be even worse than the time I had to de-skunk her. She shows no indication of listening to me, so I’ll just cross my fingers.

This is a problem, more so than just if my dog’s going to smell like a charnelhouse for a week. There’s not many ways to get this plant out of the yard. I don’t have the money to call a landscaper and I don’t have any friends who own backhoes who could dig the stupid thing out. If it’s rotted, with that smell the plant must be sick, and I don’t want it giving whatever nasty infection its got to anything else in my yard, if it’s not too late for that.

The problem ets considered for about ten minutes as i stand, hands on my hips, glaring at the plant as if that would make it understand and regret what an absolute inconvenience it’s been to me.

Glaring at it does not make it grow feet and walk, pinnate leaves bowed in shame. Guess it’s all up to me. My neighbour has a chainsaw, I think. I can work with this.

Thirty minutes and one social interaction with the guy next door later, I’m equipped and ready. Nate did, in fact, have a chainsaw. Couple that with my work gloves and I’m ready. The rotting smell probably is going to be even worse as I cut the tree down, so while I don’t have a gas mask or anything, I do have a facemask left over from painting. That and some Vicks smeared under my nose should be fine. It’s no plague mask or air freshener, but I’ll take menthol over decomposition any day.

When I walk out in the yard, warfare gear equipped and ready, something’s different. I can’t immediately tell what it is, but something’s not right. I order Hestia to stay near the driveway to avoid an animal getting close to a running chainsaw, and she obediently plops down in the middle, watching me attentively. The thing that’s wrong with the yard is immediately obvious once I get closer to the tree.

The leaf is gone. The one I pulled out. It’s just completely not there anymore. What sits in its place is a pile of brown, sludgy goop. The smell pervades my paint mask protection, but it’s tolerable. The urge to poke the pile of goop is strong, but squashed with the thought that I might have to throw out my sneakers if I can’t get the smell out.

There are things to attend to that are probably nastier, anyways.

Getting the palm down comes first, then I can experiment with poking tree sludge.

The chainsaw takes a bit to rev up, but after a couple tries it’s running healthily in my arms. I glance back at Hestia to ensure she’s in place, still, no danger, and she is. Her hackles are starting to raise distrustfully, but she’s in place. It’s fine, I don’t like the noise much either, and I’m the one with earplugs in.

I hoist up the chainsaw, angle it to what I think is proper, and set it to the palm.

The blades bite in slowly and with effort. I feel it’s making a noise more laborious than most chainsaws would, but my knowledge on them is limited. A couple wood chips fly off the tree’s bark, and what’s underneath is white and fibrous, paler than any tree I’ve ever seen. It reeks. It’s the same contaminated smell the leaf gave, only it’s more subdued than the leaf. There’s little doubt it’ll get worse the deeper in I cut.

I frown, resolute and preparing to squash my retch reflex, and re-angle the chainsaw to make a v-shaped cut.

There’s a very small noise, just barely audible over the chainsaw’s grinding.

A pop where three things immediately follow.

The chainsaw’s grind changes, like it’s suddenly experiencing less resistance.

Hestia starts barking furiously.

Something thin and pointy reaches from inside the tree to bend over the chainsaw blade.

The third one takes my immediate focus. I lean forward, squinting a little. The chainsaw’s still running, but held completely still now. Another little brown thing pokes its way out of the tree, also balancing delicately against the flat of the chainsaw blade.

“What the hell?” I ask it.

There’s a pause where the world seems to quiet down entirely as I notice a thin crack spreading up the length of the palm’s trunk. My mouth opens to ask something, I don’t even know what, and then the crack bursts open.

A cloud of putrescent white bursts out from the trunk. I drop the chainsaw on instinct, just barely avoiding vomiting into the mask. Teeth gritted, I back away, not even minding the chainsaw still running on the grass. Hestia continues her furious barking and I hear her rush over to me. I try to tell her to back off though the coughing and tearing up, but she ignores me. There’s shapes in the dust, growing clearer as it settles, and I reach for the chainsaw. I don’t know what anything is, but I’ll feel much better against a troupe of amorphous collie-size masses with a chainsaw in my hands. Coughing furiously and squinting, I reach out. Hestia stops barking, settling instead for the muffled growl meaning something’s in her mouth.

I lay a hand on the handle of the tool, and something spindly and pointy presses down on the back of my hand.

I look up as the dust settles. A greenish spider the side of a medium dog scuttles towards my arm. The scream is involuntary, loud enough to be heard down the street, and I immediately fling my arm back and move over backwards as fast as I can, still screaming. A seemingly endless amount of the giant spiders are swarming out of the palm tree, scattering in all directions as I glance to a way I can get away from them. Scuttling backwards only makes me trip over my own foot, landing heavily on my back only a few feet away from the palm. I curl up, trying to put my arms over my head to protect my face if nothing else, screaming. I feel Hestia stand over me, fearless in protection, and the tiny spider-feet I’d felt beginning to crawl up my leg are plucked off in her jaws.

My screeching is joined by someone else’s alarm-- probably Nate’s, checking on me. Whoever it is, they get pleaded at to come help me, save me, pull out a flamethrower or something.

I don’t know what he does.

I don’t know what anyone does.

All I know is that I wake up a couple hours later in a hospital room, Hestia sitting next to me, and with nothing in their IV drip that can make me stop hyperventilating.

I hold onto the dog and tell anyone who comes in to see me that I’m not going back to the house.

They tell me that’s fine, but I need to calm down.

Once I get out of the psych ward and get cleared to go to a hotel without supervision, they tell me my house has been fumigated and put on the market for me. About ten other people on the street have also put their houses up for sale at nicely discounted rates.

For a real estate manager who’s good at spin, it’s a blessing. For me, I move to an apartment.