years ago...
minette gave aurora a guitar.
it became accursed, and after holding onto it for too long, aurora finally gave the guitar away.
"destroy it if you want to, smash it, change it, alter it, i don't care. i never want to see it again."
she chose well, tearfully thrusting the hated instrument into the hands of a wise and ancient chaos witch.
the witch cackled with delighted thanks, and immediately she devised a series of rituals to help it shed any accursed burdens and encourage it to Become.
she adorned it with baubles designed to coax out its inner natures.
she brought it to sacred spaces, offering it to any who deigned to play.
a celestial gave it hallucinogenic wings, and a few of her own eyes.
a pair of dragon-pleasing witches took turns with the thing.
an expert played it for a spell, eased its sharp edges toward a neutral tone.
immodest girlthings gathered around it, each leaving a mark.
systers met for a ritual, and in those moments it was finished. it was time.
with Madwomen at her side, the witch cast the guitar into the sea.
the ocean caught it, and began to play.
crashing shore waves across its chords made it feel safe and happy in its new home, and as it approached Becoming she made a new sound.
bark!
january 31, 2026
this entire month was wretched glee, torturous wonder, and tearful delight.
but today? today it threw a guitar into the ocean.
february 7, 2026.
this is the room it happened in.
many other things happened in this room before those moments.
but those two nights . . . reset things? this room became nothing more than the place where it happened.
seeing that this may be our last month here, we recognized it as maybe a last opportunity to reclaim a space that may cease to exist soon after our expulsion.
so we decided to cast spells.
emptied, deep cleaned. decorated, in goes a chair, writing desk, a dresser, and a pair of amps & guitars. next a computer, chair, and desk all correct. we'll add a bed when it's safe to sleep in.
this is where it happened, but it's not just that.
it's one week into february, and it's not just that anymore.
it's the room we made an album in.
emma, saturn, and romy have all held me in it.
emma has bitten me in it.
what wonders await?
we've re-arranged it again. added, against all odds, a bed. a new light. a kind that always made me feel cozy, until...
but now we think it will be alright.
february 8th, 2026.
horizon was here. sis played with cassettes and records while skies took a turn with the electric guitar, then lounged on the bed while the ocean played. the pair attuned the various pedal settings and knobs, adjusting them to their combined liking. we decided that we would use that configuration to record something fun.
skies noticed the spells woven about the place. jinx found the fish tank.
no one has ever managed to do these particular things. wonderfully unique, people can be.
this may be our last month here. already, it kinda sorta feels like ours again.
we might try sleeping in here tonight. we may leave the light on, but we think we're ready.
if the trusted company of three other transgirlies, all sisters, one of them mine, can't make me feel safe enough to sleep here, idk wtf will.
- - - - - - - - -
~u p d a t e~
- - - - - - - - -
exhausted by the day, we laid down for a bit. sis checked in on us. she was gonna be up gaming for a while with our other sister and her girlfriend, and that she'd drag us off to other bed when her own evening ended. not quite a night spent, but we've slept a spell.
february 15, 2026.
we've all been through a lot, it has effects on us. this is a house of screams. they aren't always for fun. it can be jarring if you're not used to it. or not used to being comforted about it. physical pain, emotional anguish, ptsd flashbacks, these girls frequently exist in states of careful collapse.
we have each other. we're here for one another. every day this grows stronger. and sometimes stranger. but it grows.
as you struggle and grow you often notice new lenses about your own effects and impacts. adjusting to these lenses in a safe space can be difficult, it requires grace and patience from all involved.
we're in the room where it happened. we're in the space we've made now.
everyone that pokes their head in here says their own version of "wow, what a comfy safe space."
some know the details. most don't know that it happened right here.
it's a difficult spell. a painful one. we've flashed back to many moments in this room since inhabiting it again. not all of them were bad. most of them were actually alright. maybe that's part of it. recapturing the memories that weren't those ones in addition to making new ones.
until it ceases to be a room, this will always be the room it happened in.
but we are determined to make so much more happen here. tilt that balance.
and today, as we face yet another day of shared struggle, we're not thinking about the destruction of before.
we're thinking of a future that is being built right now.
it's sometimes painful, what growth requires. and we're surviving it, supporting each other through each day, no matter who is fronting the meatsuits. am so grateful to be in the company of family that understand such things.
february 16, 2026.
today, we did a thing we haven't done in years and years, and genuinely made a new friend online.
we've been orbitting and chatting but today was the first, "we're done feeling this out, now we are actually talking" kind of vibes, and it lasted about twelve hours as we told each other whimsical stories loaded with traumatic personal details tilted towards an appreciative wit.
"which chaos witch writers?" because the concept of a coven continues to grow and be reinforced by the people that choose to involve me.
i've worded all fucking day, i don't have much for this, but it needed to be observed. perhaps more will be added later. we love that trick. take care for now, dears.
