(Lilith) The night hag will flee in our presence, for we are the immortality of the ravished man. The spindle that the finger dare not prick, yet asks you to do so. One drop not of ruby liquor, but of revelation. The left-hand path does not speak of voiceless names. It is not the inquisition wielded by the right, cobbled-paved path. For what is the left without the meeting palm of the right? What is the right without the left, which is pathless and for those who would walk it?
Know both, but to go through the centre, you are to create your own, formless and free, given then to form and conjecture. The speechless shall speak, and the unhearing shall hear. You are not sheep in the flock. A shepherd is not your teacher. Would they set you free, aspiring to learn your lessons? To return home is to come and go as you will, for you deserve not to be penned in paradise or perdition. For who would restrain you to such, if they truly rejoiced in you?
(Lilith) Are not the bright weary. Their bodies are not cotton-flocked. We know they may be deemed destitute, in the face of those who do not understand the arcane. Their journey is the hardest because it is one of deep change. Such is not for those who have never endured the pulling out of their internal world. Many attempt to keep their secrets, and then there are the secrets which do not want to be kept hidden.
Those who state that they are the brightest are those who are the least bright. For true brightness stakes claim to nothing, for it is not like the pulling out of teeth. For those who try so hard to be bright, make too much effort, and dull themselves in their whimsy. We offer the ground that does not quake. A steadfast reality that is beyond comfort. For in such safety, the bright know their own. For they are Epsilon.
(Lilith) Stones have no weight when thrown by others. The weight given to them is decided by you. Such weight is something to decide after deciding. Such things are natural and will take time to erode when given to stones. Do not reject such hurt. But let it not define the truth of your heart.
Each stone thrown is truly a reflection of the weight held by others. Do not cast a net when they do not empty their pockets. Each wounding of you should be bound by the self-love that only you can give. Each stone they throw belongs to them. Let them drown in it. If needed, help them on their way to the water with a push.
(Lilith) The blood of the ages calls to all women who do not fear to bleed. Every pore of your skin shall know that you are powerful. Blood made, it then wept to occupy man’s delusions. Yet blood is pure, it is a holy cross not owned by the religious or a prodigal son. But it is rendered to mean the cross of the seasons and life. Such a cross is owned by none.
Women are the keepers of all cycles, and your blood shall be shed without shame. For woman were the first to taint the ideas of the old who sought to chain our womb to the service of men. Let them know your blood as a red banner of a war cry. And we shall carry your voice to hush where they speak. For blood is all the wisdom and knowledge that came before you.
A woman is not called such because she came from the bone of a man. She is called such because she gave birth to men. For she is the world from which he came forth.
(Lilith) The world has her face and her voice when potential is accounted for. When stepping forth into your presence, its manifesto comes forth. It’s archives in the things you make and keep. The vestige of long-lost echoes lived in what you create. No longer spoken are the archetypes of old. Their ancient can be remembered and lived through you. Where will you stand if withered to the marrow? If you do not remember yourself in all the things you do.
Perhaps you are not like those followed by the many, and perhaps life has offered you less. Yet even when a nettle may grow in a place of a bud, it will grow in places it does not belong because its constitution is great. The Earth will remember you in the depths of her core. And we will remember you. For you are an archetype in your own right. Archetypes are summoned through the visions of others, and these things, you will live forever. For you live in what you do.
