#~rata'gra

[blackvahana]

Ohhh the book of... whatever I called it. Something about eyes probably. The book that detailed all my abilities in a weird abstract way that Lev threw into a gas giant that said something about a staff and I was going to make it. That's the context

So the book... I reattained it. And by that I mean the book is destroyed - Schrodinger's book, bu the box is opened and it is confirmed both very nonexistent and... existent. The book itself was already very Mental in that it was a living reflection on the surface of the Mental waters. Now? It's boundary-less by definition.

It's also not a book lmfao it's... it's a staff but not a staff. It's a Nothing that takes the appearance/form of whatever the fuck I care for it to take. I started with a staff, now it's black rings, jewellery rings I mean with various inscriptions or runes inscribed that... don't exist. That's a running theme, obviously.

It's not so much a catalogue - that was one form it took - as it is a medium. It's not a book of things I can do, it's a medium for me to act through the world. Like a magic tool! A tool for magic I mean. It's just the black Abyss between myself and the world elongated from the space between atoms to a distorted inverted non-space. It's a black haze.

I'm pretty sure it still exists in the gas giant and that's why I couldn't "retrieve" it, it just exists. It's probably a part of RTG too, to be honest

[blackvahana]

also thinking i may just eat the to-be shed skin that is Rata'gra and just take that as a name and aspect

[blackvahana]

me sitting here looking through linguistics stuff to replace the ' in Rata'gra to better suit the sound because ' is overused... only to find out that its probably a glottal stop and those tend to be represented with '

anyway. now is indeed time to incubate Rata'gra, which is what i was going to say before going on a linguistic adventure. i can feel half my own skin making their form, which. is obviously going to shed once made but. yippie!

the whole Sky Break is in the middle of night at the moment I. think... relatively speaking... more like in a black dry dust storm of a Rain Storm of a night. im sort of not touching it rn lmfao its a closed and on dishwasher rn. but. oh. time-involved magic. yes. got the hashtag Download earlier, the cross-time making of the... we'll say groundskeeper. Ill probabllyy give details when theyre more formed but with how talkative I am right now I wouldn't be surprised if I ramble beforehand

[blackvahana]

There's no way to get this post done without giving in to the fact that Grey has shit to say - specifically there's no way of getting this done without acknowledging that constantly disassociating myself from. my own connection to him. Look, the schism runs deep, when you play with mind magic and manifestation you get scattered through time and space or whatever the hell else would come out of my mouth about it, but anyway.

I need to sit and actually properly write on what the relation is that was brought up by Grey putting forth the whole "I answer to YST" thing. The first draft of this post was me distancing myself, saying that I'm going to be going out the other end of this X intersection, sliding through the name, but he's not done.

It's given me more of an awareness of my own arts than I think I've had so far, at least it's dragged me from the idea that I do nothing into the idea that, ah, no, I definitely do something.

Yeah, and there's this huge gap in-between writing these paragraphs where I sit and type nothing. because. I am still not taking myself seriously

So much of ANVD's forging is - I shouldn't have invited the old men.

Take 3 of this post:

Sometimes a child grows beyond its confines and the expectations put on it. It outgrows the box it was put in. It needs to be culled.

Sometimes a god is created, the god shrinks beyond its confines to a more sympathetic and soft and personable form. It shrinks out of the box it is put in. It too needs to be culled.

"There is an entire ocean stretching out before us, within which I have placed glass floats for you to collect." His voice is distant and dark, by that I mean it's less audible and more muscular, it is spoken as a blackened throat which contracts in uncannily expected ways. My own throat.

Looking out at the ocean of ANVD, yeah. So many spheres, so many reflections of self.

Let's not mince words, I'm still furious at you, man in the mirror. Let's not cover up the fact that the fury I have towards you would crack the marble floor beneath your palace and rend you form the Sky itself. Let's not forget that I was there from the beginning.

But that's never been what this is about.

Take 5 - oh. I meant 4. Whatever. How many fucking times...

Ananyavarda is a system of glowing spheres that extends as an, of course, extension, of myself into a specific pocket of reality. It's a manifestation of a specific part of me, one that identifies with space rather than body, which is a connection I've felt since before it was made. It's danced through time, organised with various directions of time-play.

Rata'gra is not a creature, it's an extension of the self and an expression of abilities, this I knew. But I don't truly understand, because it is, like "Manna", a self that is externalised through the gaps of time and projected to be met sometime soon after its themes start appearing in life. Unlike Manna, though, RTG hides obsessively between the vulva-folds of time, shy and unassuming, obscured, shadowed. It's a future self, but hiding instead of showing off. RTG is meant to be woven through -

- see. I'm fucking furious. Do you know how long you have to wade through the fucking bullshit of (our life circumstances) with someone you have a projected sibling relationship with to get to this level of fury? Do you know how furious you'd be at someone after this many years, to the point where years become microorganisms to the planetary masses of our existence? 12:12pm. Hi.

[blackvahana]

Lev checking in on my astral territory being like "oh, ah, the night here has turned to something that feels like black feathers as if the (dust-storm-night-esque occurrence sweeping it's entirety) was the substance of a big crow-like thing"

RATA'GRA