Craysters

Magic for me is a symbolic concept, invented for fiction writers and magicians to make a living. I began following the words of poets who told me, very convincingly,that love was the only form of magic in the world.

And I believed them.

But, I was tricked again.

So I stopped searching, and a curious thing happened.

I woke up one winter morning, and my palms emitted a glow. The blood on my fingers burnt, and initially, it didn't feel like magic at all. It felt like fire. And ice. And a dozen other things that weren't magic.

So,
I caught hold of the first thing I could find- PEN.

And as my burning fingers mixed with my tears wrapped around it, ink spilled out.

Fiery ink.

It came out in jerks, spitting out words that made no sense.
But then, it began to flow, in rythm, in a quiet sort of way.
No hidden coins it openings.
No large men with letters.
No LOVE, just pure, unadulterated MAGIC.

Looks like finally magic found ME 🤓🙃

Journey to a Better person