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Autumn Book of Dark Shadows

The Autumn Book of Dark Shadows

Opening Invocation   𐕣 Incantation XIII 𐕣 “Every season whispers. Some scream.” ⟬☾⟡⛤⟡☽⟭   Every year, as the August sun begins its slow surrender, I feel it again: the crack in the air, the rustle in the leaves, the scent of something older than memory. While others chase pumpkin spice and sweaters, I chase something far stranger: the portal between the ordinary and the uncanny.   From August 29th to November 1st, my days blur into ritual. Films become sacraments. Candles and soaps become spell components. Decorations transform my world into a stage set for the macabre.   I call this season not just autumn, but The Autumn Book of Dark Shadows – a living grimoire of the memories, obsessions, and enchantments that have shaped me since childhood. Each page is not written in ink, but in the marrow of memory, and every year, I turn to the pages again.     Page I: Autumn on the Farm     𐕣 Incantation XIII 𐕣 “In cornfields deep, where shadows creep, The harvest hides what the children seek.” ⟬☾♄✶♄☽⟭ ✎ “The shadows on the corn stalks were taller than me.” I was a child among barns, fields, and the hiss of wind sweeping through cornstalks. It was there that I first believed in dark shadows – not metaphorical ones, but entities that seemed to linger just beyond my sight. The farm at dusk was not peaceful. It was alive with something unseen: footsteps in the leaf piles, whispers between the hay bales, strange lights shimmering at the tree line. At six years old, I knew autumn was magical, but I also knew it could be dangerous.   Page II: Michael Myers     𐕣 Incantation XLVII 𐕣 “The Shape walks slow, yet never sleeps.He waits, he waits, he waits.” ⟬☾⛧†⛧☽⟭ ✎ “1978. Halloween. My initiation into terror. My first horror movie.” Halloween devastated me the first time I saw it. Free HBO. Eight years old. Alone. True story.   Michael Myers did not just frighten me. He rewired me. That pale mask, that steady walk – it was as if the shadows outside my window had finally taken shape. To this day, I sometimes half-expect to look out into my yard on a cool October night and see him, standing there, silent, inevitable. It was not fear alone that bound me to him. It was obsession. That film transformed me from a scared little kid into a lifelong adult horror devotee. ✎ “It was the Boogeyman.” Page III: Hocus Pocus     𐕣 Incantation VIII 𐕣 “By candle’s flame, the black fire burns,The sisters rise, the wheel returns.” ⟬☾☿✶☿☽⟭ ✎ “The first bell toll of Samhain.” 1993 brought Hocus Pocus, and with it, a ritual. Every August 29th, it is the first film I play. It is my autumn incantation, a spell to unlock the doorway into Halloween.   It is campy, yes, but it is also pure enchantment. The cobblestone streets, the black flame candle, the witches who never die. It all is Halloween, bottled into a perfect brew. And sometimes, I let myself slip into the fantasy that I am one of the characters, living in Salem, where magic is always waiting.   Page IV: Trick ’r Treat     𐕣 Incantation XXIX 𐕣 “Keep the rules, or blood will flow,Sam is watching, this you know.” ⟬☾⛓◯⛓☽⟭ ✎ “Sam is the keeper of the rules.” Immediately after Hocus Pocus comes Trick ’r Treat. The ritual is precise. One film summons the whimsy; the other locks in the dread.   Trick ’r Treat is not just a movie—it is folklore. It feels older than it is, stitched together from campfire tales and the bloodied pages of graphic novels. It reminds me that Halloween has rules, and that those rules are sacred. Break them, and you pay the price.   Page V: Decorations on Cypress Street     𐕣 Incantation XCIV 𐕣 “Gravestones rise, the fog rolls in,A haunted house, where fears begin.” ⟬☾⌂✶⌂☽⟭ ✎ “Spooky House, loud whispers, candle glow.” As a young adult, I claimed a house on Cypress Street and turned it into a legend. Every October, our ¾-acre yard became a theater of shadows. Gravestones rose from the ground, fog machines breathed like dragons, skeletons rattled in the trees. The neighborhood christened us The Spooky House.   There is a certain magic in creating not just decorations, but an atmosphere—a place where children screamed in delight, and adults lingered, remembering what it felt like to believe.   Page VI: Candles & Soaps       𐕣 Incantation LXII 𐕣 “Apple’s bite and pumpkin flame,Scented smoke, the spirits claim.” ⟬☾╎✶╎☽⟭ ✎ “Aromas are portals to another dimension.” If visuals conjure the world, scents are what bind it. Autumn arrives in my home through wicks and wax. Bath & Body Works becomes my co-conspirator. Pumpkin Clove. Ghoul Friend. Wicked Vanilla Woods. These are not just fragrances. They are spells that seep into the walls, lingering long after October ends. I burn them as though they are offerings to the season itself.   Page VII: Music of the Shadows     𐕣 Incantation III 𐕣 “Strike the keys, the violins cry,Ghosts awaken when echoes fly.” ⟬☾♩†♭☽⟭ ✎ “Every October has a soundtrack.” The days and nights are scored with soundtracks: Carpenter’s synthesizers, Goblin’s prog-horror riffs. But when I want to descend deeper, I turn to Midnight Syndicate and Nox Arcana.   Their gothic instrumentals are not background. They are invocations. They transform ordinary rooms into haunted cathedrals, backyards into graveyards, kitchens into candlelit chapels of shadow. Their music is the heartbeat of my October rituals.   The Final Page: Samhain’s Threshold       𐕣 Incantation LXXVII 𐕣 “On All Hallows, the veil grows thin,The shadows close, but call me in.” †☾⚰†⚰☽† ✎ “Nov 1: the book closes, but the shadows remain.” And then, as fast as it came, the season ends. November 1st arrives, and the veil closes. But not without residue.   Every year, as I walk

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Dorothy & Toto

The Oz Dossier – Declassified Files from a Tornado

Opening Brief     The briefcase arrived unmarked. Corners split, tape frayed, its cardboard skin bruised as though it had tumbled through more than a postal route. Inside: onion-skin pages, mimeographed reports, memos stamped with red ink, and a case number I’d never seen before – OZ-01. Someone had filed Dorothy Gale and her companions not as fictions, but as witnesses in a contested investigation. Not as bedtime characters, but as participants in a world we were never meant to see. I was eight-years old when I first held The Wonderful Wizard of Oz in my hands for the first time. The pages smelled of dust and ancient magic. When I was twelve-years old, after a multitude of reads, I realized the book felt like contraband – like instructions disguised as story. Now, decades later, here was a file suggesting that what I felt as a child might not have been imagination at all.   I’ve chosen to share excerpts from this dossier. Whether they are satire, forgery, fantasy, or proof, I cannot say. All I can do is place them in order and annotate them where my own memories overlap.   Exhibit A: Kansas – The Point of Departure     Recovered: Document K-17: A weathered farm ledger, water-stained and singed, cataloging livestock losses during “The Great Cyclone Incident.” Marginal notes in another hand describe an untraceable roar “like something alive in the sky.”   Locale: Kansas is flat, endless, and quiet. A land where horizon swallows sky, and storms build without warning. Dorothy’s home sits isolated, a small farmhouse whose shadow never touches a neighbor. Life here is plain and bound by routine: the dust, the chores, the small family circle. But it is also fragile, perched on the edge of calamity. The sudden cyclone that uproots Dorothy marks not just a natural disaster, but a rupture in her ordinary world. ✎ “Our farm is so boring. Nothing ever happens …then the whole world got ripped up. I was scared, but part of me thought …maybe this is what I was waiting for?” Analysis: Kansas is less a place than a threshold. Its emptiness magnifies both the loneliness of childhood and the sense that something larger, unseen, waits beyond the fields. The cyclone is not merely weather – it is the instrument of transition, sweeping Dorothy from the ordinary into the uncanny.   Kansas thus serves as both anchor and contrast: a reminder that the “real” world is vulnerable, and that journeys into wonder often begin in silence, dust, and dread.   Exhibit B: Dorothy Gale – Missing Person     Kansas County Sheriff’s Notice, 1898“Subject: Gale, Dorothy. Age: 12. Missing since cyclone event, whereabouts unknown. Presumed deceased or displaced.” Amended Report, 48 hours later:“Subject returned unharmed. Claims extensive travel. No physical evidence provided. Recommend closure.” ✎ “I underlined “missing.” I knew what it felt like to be somewhere adults couldn’t follow.” Analysis: Dorothy is not the innocent farm girl we imagine. She is the perpetual wanderer, the child who vanishes into absence. Her “home” exists only because she has left it behind. The official reports treat her return as a bureaucratic footnote, ignoring the truth of her journey and the magic she encountered along the way. Her journey reminds us that identity is formed in motion, not in place. Every step along the yellow brick road challenges assumptions about safety, belonging, and choice. Dorothy’s resilience is both learned and innate, teaching that home is not a location, but a state of self-awareness and agency.   Exhibit C: The Scarecrow – Field Notes     Botanist’s Log, Report No. 22“Specimen found upright in cornfield. Cranial cavity appears empty of seed, yet subject speaks in riddles and philosophy. Local farmers suggest fire hazard, not miracle.” ✎ “I thought he was dumb until I realized most adults just ‘sounded’ smart.” Analysis: The Scarecrow is not brainless. He is un-programmed. A blank slate who speaks truths others cannot hear because they are bound by education and ego. His “lack” is not deficit  – it is liberation.   He exemplifies the idea that intelligence is relational, not solitary. By observing and adapting to the world around him, the Scarecrow reveals that true understanding often arises from collaboration and attentiveness, rather than abstract knowledge alone.   Exhibit D: The Tin Man – Maintenance Log     Factory Recall Notice, 1931“Model T-1N Series: Subject to corrosion at chest cavity. Recommend removal of sentimental functions. Substitute metronomic regulator to prevent emotional interference.” ✎ “I remember the first time I felt hollow, and how that emptiness thudded louder than my heartbeat.” Analysis: His tragedy is not absence, but regulation. He shows that true emotion sometimes requires rebellion against what limits it, and that even the hollowest vessel can overflow with empathy. The Tin Man’s yearning illustrates how desire shapes purpose. Even in a mechanical body, longing animates choice and action. His quest for a heart is symbolic of the universal drive to connect, feel deeply, and transcend limitations imposed by circumstance or design.   Exhibit E: The Cowardly Lion – Theatre Program     Playbill for “Trial by Roar”“One-night only performance. A lion stands accused of cowardice. Will courage reveal itself under the lights?” ✎ “I trembled during my first school play, but the applause made me braver than I was.” Analysis: Courage is performative and internal at once. The Lion embodies the universal struggle to act despite fear, and reminds us that authenticity is its own kind of bravery. His fear also teaches that vulnerability can be instructive. By confronting his insecurities, the Lion becomes a model for embracing imperfection as a necessary step toward growth, showing that courage is inseparable from self-awareness and reflection.   Exhibit F: Glinda the Good – Internal Memo     Memo, marked CONFIDENTIAL“Subject Dorothy must complete journey unaided. Only at conclusion may power of return be revealed. Failure to comply risks compromise of Emerald Directive.” ✎ “Why didn’t she just tell Dorothy the truth?” Analysis: Glinda teaches that

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Witchcraft Table

The Charm of Witchcraft: Why Magic is Just Another Religion

The following article is a delightful account of my intrigue and exploration into the world of Witchcraft. It is a positive look at what many people consider as “evil”. I am in no way endorsing nor denying Witchcraft. For me, it’s just another serendipitous stop along the rail of the Hot Mess Express!     Introduction ✎ “If religion had a quirky cousin who liked tarot cards, houseplants, and the occasional crystal, it would be Witchcraft. And honestly? That cousin sounds kinda of fun.” Over the past few years, I’ve wandered through grimoires, blogs, and personal accounts of witches and witchcraft. No hoods, no curses – just people who believe in magic, rituals, and the power of intention. What struck me most? Witchcraft is basically a religion… with just a little glitter, a lot of personal flair, and maybe some lavender-scented incense.   The glitter isn’t just aesthetic; it’s a metaphor. For those who practice, witchcraft adds a playful, mindful layer to everyday life. It encourages focus, intention, and connection with the world around them. And yes, it’s fun to imagine casting a “spell” on your Monday coffee cup to make it taste just a little better!     Reframing Witchcraft   ✎ “Magic isn’t about dragons and curses – it’s about making your own life a little more intentional.” Forget the Hollywood version. Witchcraft is fundamentally a belief system. It has ethics, practices, and a moral framework. Magic is less about changing the universe with a flick of the wrist, and more about changing yourself. Your mindset, your habits, your awareness.   Think of it as spiritual engineering. Want a better day? Light a candle and set an intention. Want to connect with nature? Observe the moon phases, the seasonal cycles, or even the way your houseplants stretch toward the sunlight. Want clarity? Shuffle a tarot deck and see what the cards reveal – then maybe chuckle if a cat decides to nap on top of your deck.   Personal anecdote: As an adult, my first brush with witchcraft was in Key West, FL. My BFF, Barb, and I were wandering the shops of Duvall Street, the heart of Key West, when suddenly, I saw a tent-like structure across the street lined with colorful scarves, dusty vintage signs and shimmering crystals. We crossed the street and found a medium who, for a mere ten dollars, would do a Celtic Cross reading of the tarot cards.   As the lovely woman laid out the cards, she could tell I felt scared and she simple said, “Calm.” Just like that, all my preconceived notions of the occult left my head. My reading? Well, as for most, that is personal but I will say the woman taught me that what she saw and spoke was up for extreme interpretation. She also taught me that, “One day, you’ll remember.” And years later… she was right.     The Joy of Rituals and Tools Rituals aren’t scary—they’re intentional acts with tangible tools. A few common items you might encounter: ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽🔮☾₊‧⁺˖⋆   Candles: Set intentions, mark phases of the moon, or just make your space feel cozy. Tarot cards: Not fortune-telling doom, but prompts for reflection and insight. Crystals: Physical reminders to focus energy or meditate. Oils and herbs: Aromatherapy, ritual baths, or simple mindfulness cues. Moon and seasonal cycles: Timing rituals according to natural rhythms. ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽🔮☾₊‧⁺˖⋆   These practices make abstract ideas tangible and create a space for reflection. And yes, some of them are funny when you’re a newbie: trying to meditate with a crystal in your pocket and finding it slipped into your shoe.   Personal anecdote: I have always been attracted to crystals and the practice of drawing on their energy for personal growth. Crystals do have an end date for their usefulness but I learned all you need to do is place them out in the sun or a waning moon to “recharge” them. How simple is that!   I choose the night under a waning moon. I carefully placed about ten or more crystals on an aluminum tray and took them outside into my backyard around midnight. I laid the tray in the wet grass with care. The sky was clear and the waning moon was bright. I was at peace and couldn’t wait to get back my newly revived crystals the next day.   The following morning, as I stepped outside to an upside down tray and most of the crystals gone or hidden in the grass, I quickly learned that raccoons like crystals, too!     Why Witchcraft is Positive & Educational   ✎ “At its heart, witchcraft is less about casting spells and more about casting light on how we learn, reflect, and grow.” Witchcraft teaches patience, attention, and respect for cycles – moon cycles, seasons, even personal growth cycles. It encourages responsibility: if you intend to do good, you try to do good. Other benefits include:   Mindfulness: Observing rituals, herbal preparations, or simple candle lighting. Connection: With nature, community, or oneself. Reflection: Journaling, tarot, or intention-setting acts as a kind of daily self-assessment disguised as magic. Creativity: Rituals encourage imagination and playful thinking – important for personal growth.   A Thought to Ponder: Even if you don’t believe in “magic” per se, there’s value in using symbolic tools to focus your mind and intention. Actually we do it all the time: daily journaling, wearing a crucifix, brewing a nice tea for sleepy time. Given the parallel, skeptics might just admire the practice of “magic”, if just from afar.     Addressing the “Witchcraft as the Devil” Myth   Let’s tackle the big pink elephant in the broomstick closet: the idea that witches secretly consort with the devil. Historically, this myth arose from religious fear, political manipulation, and a dash of creative storytelling (thank you, 15th-17th centuries).   Reality check: Most modern witchcraft is entirely secular or nature-based. It does not involve demons, hellfire, or goat sacrifices. The “devil” association is cultural folklore, not

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