kalischild

I only know of a few of us; we are few and far between.

We are the hard children; we are the dead stars, solid and cold at our cores.

We are walls of black steel, wrapped around a soft, subtle silence. We are the Mother, cradling the corpse of an inner child that we smothered, a child we euthanized in the dark dawntime, to spare it the pain of your world. We are distant; in the absence of allies, our armor has become our identity.

Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations

We refuse compromise, we have no compassion for weakness, we respect only independence, strength, and passion.

We insist on wanting, we have no sympathy for those that need

Need is the weapon that the weak wield against us. Need is the confession that you cannot survive alone. Need is the abdication of responsibility for your self.

Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel

And Desire is the drive that pushes us onwards.

We despise our own weakness; when we find its dark, creeping weeds choking our garden, we root it out. Brutally. Dont try to save us, there is no child inside for you to save. We have chosen our path with wisdom, and open eyes; we are well aware of both the cost and the reward. There is no secret place within us reserved for you to find rest, or peace; we do not care for rest, and consider peace synonymous with stasis.

We do not slow down. We do not stop. We are the hunters of a deep, black Zen.

We have been running for so long that we are no longer running away. We only run, in a quest for more speed, more intensity, more life.

And here is the one-eyed merchant

The only limits we will accept are our own, and those imposed by Babylon.

And this card, Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, Which I am forbidden to see

We swim through the dark sea of a world shaped by insane rules, carved with the blades of the herds insecurity.

I do not find the hanged Man

We swim through this see and we watch the angels drowning. We would swim to save them, but we have learned over time, that the drowning ones will only pull us down; we no longer attempt to save the suffering.

Fear death by water


We would rather swim with the hunters, dark and silent, then drown as angels.

We swim alone, and when we meet others of our kind, we pass in the dark. Our respect is paid in silence, it is paid in the need for no words.

Fear death by water

We are like sharks, constantly searching, constantly moving. And we are like sharks; if we ever cease searching, then inertia seizes us, and we can no longer breathe.

Fear death by water

Do not pity us, as we do not pity you.

Pity is just the sharp, thin edge of need.

Infectious.