For simplicity, let's just call her a she.
So this dark viscous and gooey blotch was given to me somehow, and I was supposed to safeguard it. She first appeared to me on a kitchen counter. I remember taking precautions so that she would not be harmed. After a short time, I looked down again and she had grown. Maybe now as large as a tablespoon. In time, I remember thinking that my blotch would soon turn into a child.
So I continued to guard my blotch. But then I had to move. Life is like that I guess. And my blotch became smeared. It was still there. But now I had two blotches. And some of it was sticking to my hands. I was making a mess. I had screwed up. I had not guarded my ward. More specifically, I had not warded my guard.
Now this part was not in my dream. But in real life, my blotch is still there. I have bunch of them frozen in the new farmhouse. And I bring the blotches into my body as part of a ceremony. And they become part of me I guess. Sometimes several times a week. But not this week because I am too busy. And the blotch can be very demanding. Some would even go so far as to say that using the blotch in this manner can become destabilizing. And I agree with that. Maybe. But then we would have to argue the semantics of destabilizing and if one thing the blotch has taught me is that it is better to have intentions than to play word games. Of course, we cannot help but to have intentions. We are intentions. I'm not sure we are much else.
I think that now would be a good time to stop.
