A Joint Before I Go.
Here's a little spell I wrote. I wrote it down note for note. Don't worry, be happy.
Butterflies, bees and honey.
.
I've been playing with magic for a while now. Consciously that is. Before I came from a world where there was no magic and I lived in a chaotic place. Now the magic makes my teeth hurt because I don't think I really should. I can let go of the magic, and leave myself drifting in the loneliest of places. So the question is really, why shouldn't I.
Butterflies, bees and honey.
A bee that stings twice landed on a butterfly. And the spell begins to decompress. Infinite spirals riding on a sensation. Memory flickers and the chaos butterfly makes it's presence known in the past. A sacrifice is made and a word places a ring on the butterfly's wing. The cruelty is abhorrent but by now I'm trapped in the slipstream of causality; the outcome is inevitable, the only question is who I'll be when I arrive.
Butterflies, bees and honey.
A short spell, and I can, perhaps, explain it. In terms of quantum physics. In terms of psychology. In terms of who and what I spent the night with. I sit here now with my mind reeling. Stars coalesce and my form begins to shift. Subjective reality alters and I begin to see what I've done. You don't exist until you read this and it's your memories of me that makes me what I am. Yet I'm not who you think I am. I don't exist any more.
I spent the night with two others. Later in the dark, as the singularity formed, I felt a third beside me. The honey transported me to another place and for a moment I was not there. When I look back I realise how I've destroyed your world. Yet when I wonder who told me this spell I begin to see a fourth and behind them a fifth.
Soon I'll begin to describe what I'm seeing. When I see who's listening perhaps then I'll have an answer.
So who uttered the words?