brightlotusmoon: (Pixie Model 2)
Hello from the LJ user formerly known as BrightRoseFox.
Due to a complex thingy involving problems with emails and such, I have changed my LJ name, my yahoo name, and my gmail name.
Everything is now BrightLotusMoon.
If you know me well enough, you know why I am now BrightLotusMoon.
So, yeah. Just FYI.

Dear Lovelies:
Not only am I feeling so much better, I truly believe I am worth everything that people say I am. I've been getting messages, emails, phone calls, and comments from friends who have told me what I mean to them. I've been amazed and heartened and lifted and joyous.
I may be a moonlight witch, but I can't access the magic of the moon without accessing the magic of the sun. And the moon is always there, her power full constantly.
I feel bright and powerful and in full bloom, like a great lotus blossom beneath the full moon.
brightlotusmoon: (Snow White Ruby Blood Dragon Witch)
Seizure happened in the kitchen. Jupiter meowed and rubbed against me while I crouched. Adam came in and gently lay me on the floor. My eyes were open and blank. Adam touched my face and reached for my mind, and I spasmed and gasped and blinked. I asked why I was on the floor. Adam helped me up and stood me against the large freezer. My memory is swirling. Alicia is holding me. Earlier, Adam said he told his boss, a fellow animal lover, that he needed an extra day to care for his wife. I rolled my eyes and said that was not necessary; that I was fine. Never mind. It was so dark and so white equally braided as order and chaos magics. I was spinning at ninety-nine percent light speed and thirty-five miles an hour. The world was elsewhere. A few seconds lasted a thousand years. Adam suggested I go upstairs and rest. Jupiter is suggesting a cuddle. I am thinking coffee and clonazepam and baclofen. I am made of light and love and pure order-chaos magic in its simplest form. I can give myself the right strength. May be that I can regenerate. As brightly and intensely as a Time Lord. I always shine enough for everyone.

brightlotusmoon: (Snow White Blood Red Light Pale)
Another bizarre, color-based fantastic dream last night.
I was walking through a small town full of colors of all kinds. I had my handbag on me and I wondered if I could practice any magic with my cosmetics. However, the eyeshadows from the previous dream were gone.
An older woman came to me and said, "I know what you need. The powders you were using are limited. But these are not. I give these to you as my gift, freely, with no expectations. They belong to you."
She handed me two eyeshadow cases. I recognized them instantly - I own them in the waking world: Too Faced Exotic Color Eye Shadow Singles in Poison Orchid and Midnight Mist. I frowned and stared at her, realizing that her eyelids were painted with a blend of the two. I asked, "Are these stronger?"
"Oh yes," she said. "They heal and harm, create and destroy. Use your finger or a shadow brush. Wear them blended on your eyelids and you are immune to anyone who tries to use magic in a negative or destructive way. Swipe one on each wrist and your own magic will be increased. Wear them any which way you wish and you will be stronger. There is always power in color. Do you wear the red lipcolors that the Art Goddess gave you?"
I tilted my head. "I don't know. I own many red lip shades."
She smiled. Then you probably do. Do you know the names Provocateur, Hot Mama, Pretty Woman, Ruby Slippers, Stiletto Red, Wild?"
"Oh!" I said. "Oh, yes! Buxom and It Cosmetics and Too Faced and Tarte! I always feel drawn to them. Um, pun intended?"
The woman laughed, and her dark blue eyes glowed. "These eyeshadows are Too Faced and the names are no coincidence in this dimension. You come here very often in your dreams." She peered closer at me, nose to nose. "You are wearing Tarte Maracuja Concealer and It Cosmetics Concealer. One day, you will see the true complete beauty, and you may not use so much."
I smirked. "Are you a psychiatrist?"
"Sort of," she laughed. "Empathic witchcraft has advantages. You use color and cosmetics as both enhancement and costume. That is perfect and good. But you must remember that you, as you, are always beautiful."
I took a very deep breath. "It will take a while."
She reached out and pressed her palms against my cheeks. "You will know. You are loved."
It seemed as though she were about to walk away, but she paused and looked at me again. "The Too Faced Lipstick in Stiletto Red and the Tarte Lipstick in Wild. Use them to draw your personal magical symbols where you need on your body, when you come into this dream dimension again. You will understand why once you walk through our town."
I nodded. "And the Too Faced eyeshadows?"
"Oh, you know how they work!" she laughed. "You could even just open them and point them at the sky when you need to destroy your monsters and horrors. Midnight Amethyst and and Midnight Sapphire are designed to work in moonlight, sunlight, and all elements."
I realized that nothing was enigmatic anymore. I started laughing. Behind me, a gateway opened. I stepped back, waving at my companion. She held out one hand, fingers spread wide, and passed a golden-silver stream of light to my hand. I laughed loudly, and the gateway gently wrapped around me and pulled me through. It took a while for me to wake up. I suppose I could call it dream limbo. Light and shadow, color and negative space, filled with serenity.
I will go back. It is my town, after all.

The makeup in this photo:
Too Faced Exotic Single Eyeshadow in Poison Orchid, Midnight Mist
It Cosmetics Hello Lashes Volume Growth Mascara
It Cosmetics Vitality Lip Butter Gloss in Ruby Slippers
Tarte Maracuja Creaseless Concealer

Front facing smartphone cameras with anti-shake technologies are so freaking awesome for disabled people!
brightlotusmoon: (Snow White Blood Red Light Pale)
Why is it that, in most dreams where I am in physical danger, I am unable to scream or move quickly?
My last dream involved a bad fall and crash at the top of the stairs, while a large group of people were downstairs having a small quiet party. Something supernatural was with me, something insidious. I grabbed the stair ledge and pulled myself up to a kneeling position. I yelled my husband's name, but it was only a whisper. I couldn't call for help, not with the shadowy creature surrounding me. I was moving so slowly. It felt as though nobody was in the house but me, me and the cats.
And abruptly, I realized that nobody was in the house. Adam was at work. There was no party. The cats were all downstairs. It was only me and the shadow entity. I struggled to call on my internal resources, my spirit guardians, but even my psychic voice was muffled. I was not afraid. I was determined. I was badly injured, and I only had myself, and my powers to create weapons and defenses were drained. I stopped trying to stand. I knelt there and mouthed words, calling on the water in the bathroom, the air circulating around the house, the earth under the house, the fire downstairs used to light the gas stove. I pulled in all into me, and with a desperate burst, I unleashed it. The shadow creature shrieked and vanished.
Without any warning at all, the house filled with presence again. There was that quiet downstairs party. I whispered my husband's name again, struggling to turn it into a cry. Someone must have heard. Adam came up the stairs and found me, sagging against the door of the bathroom, my nose bleeding. He spoke to me. He half-carried me to the bedroom and helped me lie down. He brought damp towels and tissues and water with electrolytes. I managed, somehow, to tell him that a negative spirit had entered the house and stole my strength, and I pulled all the elemental power I could to drive it away. He was very proud but also puzzled, since the house was supposed to be powerfully shielded and guarded. I was crying but I didn't mean to cry. It was just a reaction without intention. He stroked my hair and curled up with me, and me took my hand and fed me energy and power and strength, and he said, "Go to sleep, my darling. I'll be monitoring you through our psychic bond and everything will be okay. I will strengthen the wards." He needed to check on our friends. He would back be up soon.
The dream ended there.

It has been something of a recurring thing: My slowness in dreams. My exquisite agony in dreams. My whispering words in dreams. Sometimes I can barely walk for the pain in my hips and knees. Sometimes I can only speak with thoughts instead of physical words. Sometimes my body is wrapped in a floating translucent shell and it is the only way I can move. In my dreams, the pain is so much worse than in reality. But I have access to weapons of all kind and I feel safe, even if something horrible grabs me.

When I was a child, I had flying dreams every night. Even astral projection. Like my father and cousins in their younger years. And if a harmful person appeared, I just waved my right hand fiercely, shouting "Shoo! Shoo!" to make then disappear.

When I was a child, I dreamed of dragons, of ancient tortoises, of unicorns mixed with white tigers, of phoenix birds with feathers of every color. Dragons have never been dangerous to me. Even if some were, there were always other dragons who were benevolent.

It is why I always bristle when I read an article comparing chronic pain to dragons. The only way I can see such battles happening is dragon against dragon. And I am a human amalgam of dragon, phoenix, tortoise, unicorn, white tiger, and fae, wrapped in the skin of a moonlight witch.

Then, why do my dreams cripple me? The only reason I can think of is to teach me to use the insides, the powers coming from my spirit and not my body. My body is very important and vital to me. But perhaps not so much in my dreams.

And I think this piece of art, beyond anything, is one of the greatest ways I can understand myself. Every time I look at it, I weep. I even have that same cane. I know Shinga and I barely know each other, but she knows chronic pain. She knows what being a warrior means. She was in the US Army and was badly injured and treated so poorly during therapy that she has severe PTSD. She is disabled badly. She knows battles. And I want to hold her and hold her and tell her what this means to me.
(Note: Please please refer to Shinga before borrowing or using this image. Please use the Deviant Art link. This is her work. Copyright Shinga. The only reason I displayed the actual image was in case someone can't click on the link.)
brightlotusmoon: (Snow White Blood Red Dragon Witch)
Aww, I remember writing this last year and people being very amused.
Bright eyed, bushy haired, bright colors, babbling due to painkillers and happy muscle relaxants and healing gemstones and all that weird pseudoscience silliness that I believe in despite my atheist agnostic upbringing.
I've been pagan since I was a teenager, so hah. Polyagnostic polytheist pantheist eclectic witch who will believe even if proven completely wrong. Even when my parents insists that it's just my brain and that psychic powers don't exist, I will agree because that is true, too. There are so many truths out there. I love quantum everything.
See, I follow the Discworld concept: Even if a deity manifests in front of be and insists it is a great god, I will tell it "That's nice. Just because you exist doesn't mean I believe in you. I believe in my Higher Brain smushed with my Subconscious, which you possibly came from. But since you are here, let's party anyway. Red wine?"
I firmly believe that Man created God, and the Universe created both Man and God, and all gods everywhere sprang fully formed from Man's brain because Man's brain is more complex and extreme than we can ever conceive. The universe is bigger than everything.
And I have also always believed in All The Gods, so whenever someone asks me if I believe in God, I always ask "Which one?" which leads to confusion and people thinking I'm, like, evil or something and must be saved or whatever that means. *shrug* I don't care. I like what I like and I don't want to push it on anyone because my faith is mine and your faith is yours.
I just ask that you please please do not attempt to convert me to Christianity because nope nope nope. I am half Jewish, I know that Christianity is a Jewish heresay, I know Yeshua was just a man who explored various believes including paganism and then returned to talk about it, and that he wasn't part god, he was just a very good orator. So, no. I am who I am and if you leave me alone I will not roll my eyes and facepalm at you. I love you all, I always will... but I can love everyone without being bothered by proselytizing. Love is love is love is love. There is no wrong or right, there is only love.
brightlotusmoon: (Fae Dragon Alien)
Here, we have the ultimate expression and meaning of the winter holidays.

I have been singing "Soft Kitty" to myself for a while. There is technically only one reason to sing that song, but I have at least three, all of which were mentioned by Penny in the episode where Sheldon had to care for her. I have also been attempting to sing it as a round with myself.

Seriously, though. Yesterday was the beginning of the six-day Roman celebration Saturnalia. Yay Saturn, blah blah blah. I'm going to leave a little tiny something for each Greek and Roman god, be it a physical offering or a psychic offering. And then when Winter Solstice and Yule come around, more offerings to Gaia and the rebirth of the Sun God.

Also, once more for clarification, I am not Wiccan at all and never will be. Wiccan is a very specific, very young religion, which took bits and pieces of old pagan faiths and mixed them up until Gerald Gardner felt satisfied. Wicca has unfortunately become the main path new pagans turn to when they have no idea what to do, and such become "fluffy bunny" pagans, focusing only on the "light" and "good" stereotypes of magic and witchcraft, which is very cute and laughable. Unfortunately, Wicca's reputation has mostly been taken over by fluffies, I think; I haven't paid much attention. Any Wiccans here want to set the record straight, please?

I am eclectic pagan with firm faith in polytheism, pantheism, natural magic, elemental magic, personal magic, chthonic magic, shamanism, animism, and humanistic paganism. Which is funny, because humanistic paganism would probably cancel out the magic part, but there are a few humanistic pagans who practice magic with a scientific bent, like my husband.

I forget my main point... but I wish everyone a Happy Hanukkah, Blessed Yule, Io Saturnalia, Merry Christmas, and Blessed Solstice. I am one of those people who just won't care what you you believe in or worship as long as you don't shove it at me, attempt to convert me, or proselytize at me. And oh, yes, that does include paganism, Wicca, and other nature-based faiths. There is a reason I am so eclectic.
brightlotusmoon: (Pixie Model 2)
I don't think I want to leave my house without psychic witchcraft protection all week, because within the next few days there will be scary things everywhere, and I don't give a fuck how plastic and fake they are, I still hate them. And I will bring a pillow to press against my face and I will threaten to beat anyone with my best cane if they try to get in my face with scary costumes.

*loves Samhain, hates Halloween*
*is so close to the realm of the dead anyway that there is absolutely no need to dress up and pretend anything because the veil is close enough to touch*

I don't know if anyone wants elaboration on that.

I will say that I nearly died several times during and after birth: my three months premature birth happened at two minutes to midnight under a waxing gibbous moon and an evening star. My personal magic is more orderly than chaotic. That is, it is a gentle and static magic rather than a wild and intense magic. Both are needed, both must be braided tightly as a unit, but I can only work with one at a time, or there is pain.

I may discuss more if there is interest.
After my post seizure post-ictal state soothes, and after I rest, and after I sleep.

Any discussion of blood, gore, zombies, decomposing corpses, hideous death, and living dead will be met with silence, side eye, eye-rolling, and growling. (Vampires are okay, as long as they appear human.)

The harvest is coming. Time to drink cider!

I was recently given a private reserve skin cream on Etsy that the
owner, a fellow witch, picked out the name "Moonlight Witch" from my
list of possible names. It smells and feels amazing and makes me feel...
well, at home! Plus, I feel more comfortable and charged up when I do
pagan rituals under moonlight.

Moonlight Witch Gypsy Body Creme reserved for Joanna:
Cocoa Butter, Shea Butter, Olive Oil, Grapeseed Oil infused with powerful extracts of Blue Lotus Absolute, Dragon's Blood Resin, Amber Resin, Coffee Extract, Coffee Grounds, Coconut Flakes, Frankincense, Myrrh.
"She walks the path where moonlight shines, for it is there her strength she always finds."
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
Well, gods damn son of a wild cat.
I stepped outside, stared at the moon, opened wide my mind and my arms, and got blasted by a wave of energy that surged through my entire body and brain for over a minute before spiraling into the soil under my feet. My head and torso actually snapped backward without my control.
What the hells do I do with that now? My skin is almost electric, and I am not sure I can describe what is happening inside my head.
Things hurt and do not hurt simultaneously. Everything is all wibbly-wobbly.
I need time to process this.
I am totally fine, just full of a weird witchy wibbly wobbly weirdness.
It feels like a wild creature crawling around and investigating all my systems.
Magic is funny like that.

Okay. I have meditated, grounded, and stored.
I went out barefoot into the dirt near the front yard's maple tree with pentacles embedded in its Y branches by Adam and me when we first moved in in 2005. I held my hands out to the tree while watching the moon, and I gathered energy, letting the tree wrap its own power around me, and I cycled it back, boosted by the pentacles in the tree, my ouroboros pentacle pendant with amber in the pentacle's center, and my amber bracelet on my weak left wrist. The power of a tree circled around my wrist, calming the tiny muscle spasms. I thanked the tree and went back inside to the back of the house.
I went out back near the garden for a clearer view of the blue moon, my toes digging into the long grass. I took a long breath and recited a private unrehearsed incantation, asking the moon to grant me strength, confidence, magic, love, kindness, and wisdom.
The magic electric wild creature has calmed down and is now quietly exploring my body and mind for a place to curl up. What a fascinating thing!
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
Just me and my Little Pony. I am adorkable.
Seriously, though, Lotus Star helps me stay calm. I charged her with a personal witchcrafty quantum magic meditation ritual thingy. Every time I hold her, comb her, or even look at her, I allow my amygdala to slowly reset itself to calm and peace, no matter how temporary. That's all I need sometimes. Everything is fleeting yet lovely.
(I also did the same to my Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle dolls, but since this G3 doll is so different, I gave it different properties. Fluttershy helps me sleep; Twilight Sparkle helps me dream. It works out well.)
I'm going to make sure I have fantastic dreams tonight.

brightlotusmoon: (Default)
The thunder, oh gods, it is glorious.
I did something I probably shouldn't have done, and drew power directly from the storm. It's fantastic. It's fucking INTENSE. It rolled through me and swirled around me and crashed into me and left me breathless and shaking and vibrating. My fatigue is completely gone, my pain is barely registering. It's not just the Soma. Eventually I'll let the energy out back into the earth, but for now I'm having fun. My teeth are humming. The rain is splattering on the grass outside the sliding glass door and it feels like a chant.
Now I understand why Adam loves storms, loves drawing magical energy from storms.
Gods, I love being a witch.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)

I think the following passage is my favorite part, since I know a lot of witches who believe that you need to go through initiations and rituals before you can actually be called a witch, which I think is insulting to those of us who have practiced witchcraft (even if we didn't know it) all our lives:

"No one else decides if you are a witch or not; you decide yourself. Once you decide, you are, because you always were. The notion that someone else decides whether you have supernatural powers or not comes from hermetic/religiously based magic mentioned in the previous paragraph, from snobs who believe one should only be allowed to use magic if one has a high IQ or an “acceptable” way of thinking, and from certain people who believe that such things only run in families, kind of like in Harry Potter. The basic fact of our non-Wiccan witchcraft is that magic is an inborn talent of all human beings to develop and use as they see fit. If you choose to go the mystery school (hermetic)/religious route, more power to you. But you do not have to, and never let anyone try to convince you that there is only one way (that being the hermetic/religious way)."

I like to think of magic the way I think of art, writing, singing, cooking, and most other crafts, talents, and skills. Anyone can do it. Some are better than others. Some are born with an innate gift that takes their natural ability far beyond the average artist or practitioner. A magic practitioner (witch, mage, sorcerer, wizard; etc) is no different than a painter, a writer, a chef, a sculptor, a singer, in that the ability to apply the craft must be learned, studied, practiced, and continuously polished as one goes. There is always room for improvement, even among the masters. Just because a singer is born with a fantastically natural voice and can sing rings around legendary recorded music artists doesn't mean she can get a record deal with the snap of a finger -- she still needs to visit producers, go to auditions, practice with teachers, study music itself, and learn everything she can.
I'm a writer. Further, I am an aspiring author. Yes, I've been writing naturally since the age of five, I knew how it all worked when I was very young, and I astounded people with my poems and stories. However, I'm not an author yet. I have a lot of work to do. Yet I can still call myself a writer because I practice my craft every day, hone my skills, and produce good work.
A person can have loads of talent and a massive natural gift, but if nothing happens to nurture that talent, it just goes to waste. Just like magic.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
In my dream last night, and in some waking moments during the night, I saw Luna's aura: pale shades of gold, blue, and violet. And I experienced different musical tones and physical sensations from each. What is fascinating about this is that Luna is the first animal whose aura I have ever actually seen and felt and paid attention to. Perhaps because whenever I meditate and concentrate on my own aura, I also see pale shades of gold, blue, and violet, as well as ivory white. Each with their own musical tune and physical feeling in my body.
(Rose tells me that gold, blue and violet mean God/dess Center, Healing, Peace, and Spirituality. This does not surprise me at all.)
I'm not going to read into any of this much; I'm sure it just means that Luna and I connect supremely well, and maybe it was "fate" that I saw her in that shelter room, went to her, fell in love, and almost without thinking twice went to fill out adoption papers. I really couldn't stop myself. When I went to Luna's cage to look at her, I could have turned around and chosen any one of the dozens of other cats in the dozens of other cages. I in fact had looked at all the cats in all the cages, and sent my mind out to them, asking each cat if we could connect, and none of them sent anything back but the intense desire to be somewhere else; however they didn't connect with me on that certain level. But when I got to Luna's cage, I saw her standing pressed against the bars, purring. She squeaked at me and reached out a paw, and when I touched her she licked me and nuzzled me and purred and purred. I was certain she was doing the same things to other people who came to see her, but there was something else: A nagging, nudging feeling inside my head that was pushing to get stronger. I could have picked any one of those cats. But the feeling in my head was strongest with this one. I wanted her. I needed her.
Luna has apparently been proving this every day since I brought her home. It brings tears to my eyes. I can't explain how and why we connect, but we do. So well.


Feb. 2nd, 2007 08:32 pm
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
This is a lovely, lovely, soulful poem that every pagan should read. I find that it speaks most clearly to the Druid in me, since in the philosophy of Druidism, nature itself -- including all elements -- is one of the most powerful deities known. Slightly different from witchcraft, which is less a philosophy and more a practice. Many pagans who see that I'm a witch and a Druid scoff at me for it, since apparently you "can't be both witch and Druid." But this poem speaks something for everyone, I think, and it doesn't matter who can't be what and why I can't be two things at once.

Catechism For A Witch's Child
When they ask to see your gods
your book of prayers
show them lines
drawn delicately with veins
on the underside of a bird's wing
tell them you believe
in giant sycamores mottled
and stark against a winter sky
and in nights so frozen
stars crack open spilling
streams of molten ice to earth
and tell them how you drink
a holy wine of honeysuckle
on a warm spring day
and of the softness
of your mother who never taught you
death was life's reward
but who believed in the earth
and the sun
and a million, million light years
of being
© 1986 J.L.Stanley
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
Oh yes, and this:
While I was waiting for my lunch order at the local deli, a woman next to me pointed to my pentacle pendant with the moonstone and asked, "Hey, that's a pentacle, right? Are you a witch?"
Carefully, I said, "Yes, I am."
"Oh!" she said. "So isn't this, like, a Wiccan holiday for you? Are you going to dance naked around a bonfire?"
I blinked. Slowly. I sighed. Quietly. I smiled. "No," I said. "I'm actually not Wiccan. I'm just pagan."
She looked confused. "But aren't all people like that Wiccans?"
I stood very still, smiling, all the while thinking I will not beat my head against this wall, I will not...
Then I said, "No. Paganism is an umbrella term used to describe thousands of varying religions, belief systems, and practices that are not among the mainstream monotheistic religions like Christianity, and that usually involve worshipping nature and/or multiple gods and/or practicing magic. Wicca is a pagan religion. But just because I wear a pentagram does not mean I'm Wiccan." (Yes, I really said it like that).
She furrowed her brow. "Okay. So, what kind of magic do you do?"
I stared at her. "Um, just magic. Elements and spirits and stuff."
I must have caused some short-circuiting in the poor woman's brain. She said, "But I just saw that episode of 'Tyra' where they had white witches and black witches..."
I sucked in my breath. A talk show? Oh gods, no. "Um, that's not how it works," I explained, while my temples began to pulse. "There is no such thing as white magic and black magic. Magic is neutral. It all depends on the intentions of the person."
"But the witches on the show sounded like they knew what they were talking about!" she insisted.
I nodded, slowly. "Yes, because that is what they personally believe. It's not a representation of the entire pagan community. Frankly, I think people like that give paganism a bad name."
My lunch order was ready then, so I excused myself and paid. As I took my bag and started to walk to the door, the woman stopped me and asked if I knew any websites where she could look it all up. She wanted to "get it right and make sure she knew how it was supposed to go."
With relief, I gave her some websites off the top of my head, and told her to have a nice day, and hurried out. My head was starting to hurt. I was also not about to try and explain why I was a Druid and eclectic, as well as a witch; that would probably confuse her even more, and horribly.
I think I just lost all respect for daytime talk shows. Sorry, Tyra.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
If you've never had an astral body, or applied magic, etc etc... you may not get this (and if you think it's bullshit I won't fault you either).
My wings actually got cold for a few minutes. Very intensely bizarre. Invisible psychic appendages aren't supposed to feel temperatures, are they? I don't think it's physical cold, like cold hands, maybe more like a spiritual cold. They felt temporarily iced up or lacking circulation. My back is tingling.
Adam is in Albany, NY right now. He'll be home on Thursday. I may call him and find out what happened to the dragon statue. I need to meditate with it for a bit. Jinniyah's asleep in the back of my mind. I don't want to wake her; I might try to find one of the others. Dragon guardians can be temperamental when woken up from naps.
I performed a quick check on my aura and general energy, and I'm getting cooler colors than normal. I'm normally gold, violet, blue and green. The shades this time are... pale. Chilled? I don't have the best words. I've never experienced this before, so I'm at a loss.
Next time I see Charlotte or Lena, I'll ask them to take a look. Maybe it'll have gone away by then.


brightlotusmoon: (Default)

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