witchcraft confession

i was twenty four
and had a book on the Qabballah
which said
that the key to success with magic
was the establishment of a magician's alphabet.

i made one up myself
in a certain way so that the characters
had emotional and liminal resonances
with myself
rather than being symbols for the conveyance
of just a language of things.

i wrote it in the back of a book
without a key
so i would remember
and then set to casting spells all over the bloody place
like a four year old etching the white walls of a hallway
with a red permenant marker.

i think i was heavily affected
at the evidence
that something was awry
or even beautiful
after this point.

sometimes i was cautious to beat out time signatures
so if i did something awful, it was guaranteed to dissolve.

admittedly, i was either going completely nuts from this
but some of them seemed to come out automatically, usually
written down until i began seeing them in the world,
like the symbol for heartbreak etched in the concrete design of pine needles
laying on a deck.

i threw all my spellbooks into the ocean off the pier,
but admittedly I had been trying half the time
to save the fucking world
with a bunch of chicken scratch black magic
so i don't know what it means for the balance of my supposed soul
or if I am a male anymore,
certain things like this
based on the character and complication of the innane writings I was doing
with a nonstandardized supposedly magical alphabet.

that and someone wisely told me
"maybe it was something you picked up somehow while bored"
and I agree
somehow
reality seemed different
not caught in the segments of sane order
but affected,
so there is the inherent argument
for the existence of magic
especially through the disgusting example
of my girlfriend contracting an STD
and myself being clean until this day,
or other things like strange wounds beneath the skin
that ached like motherfuckers
though I gather that the rational explanations now
seem too boring
and more :la de dah:
than the idea black magic exists.

my Illuminati friend Erika knew something
about something else, but I don't want to be personal
she was the second person who spoke of cloud calling
but she, being from NY, professed that it was Southern black magic
so there is that realization
I guess, as uncomfortable as it is
being that I'm not all like "Fuck yeah, black magic"
though I probably dress like it these days
long after my alphabets disappeared into the Pacific ocean.