The Great Witch Kabo will now relax in her personal thread. This is that thread

Yes. This thread serves no purpose other than for my dutiful diaristic diatribes. And an exposition of my vast, truly vast bubble pipe collection. Some of these models predate the invention of bubbles as You (you) humans know them, did you know that? Yes yes.

Comments

  • Here is how to pronounce "Kabo"

    Learn Japanese, and then speak the word "Carbohydrate" with your newly acquired, vintage, pre-owned, authentic, hand-made Japanese accent. Now discard the "hydrate" what you are left with is my name. Or what I use as a name in your world by any account or measure. "Kabo" is short for Tatarucingan Kabodoan. That of course is not my real name either. It's Sudanese for "Foolish Riddle", which you know, I could well have used that as my nom de magique when I got here and saved myself a lot of trouble yes I could've, yes I could've. Oh well, you live and learn. Or you live and don't learn in my case. Once you hit 6000 or so years old you start to lose information about as fast as you get new information so you just essentially, fundamentally, in a general sort of way, remain at an equilibrium. A mental state where both sides of the hourglass are frozen peas froze in peace. Oh, listen to me ramble.
  • You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
    I get it, "types", hee hee
  • Touch the cow. Do it now.
    they forgot Comic Sans Woman
  • I think in my experience--my limited experience! If I had to levy just one complaint against what they call mankind / humanity (all of You that is to say), it would be that you have not figured out yet that there's no space beyond space where the search for truth and inner light ever ceases. The search for meaning is I suppose I suppose what you'd call the meaning in itself. Envision your being as a column of masks: when one is broken, another supports it beneath. So it is forever in both directions. We are all, to someone, heroes, villains, saints, and devils. Hm, aha, yes, and witches. Witches all around.

    To be a witch of something is to know that something's bones as if they were your own. I am a witch of many massively multiplying myraids, but the first title granted to me by The Neverqueen was Witch of Idleness. Not an insult as you might ignorantly intuit, but a title to tamper my timbre. Idle hands are the devil's playthings, but witches sit perpendicular and peculiar to such concerns as angels and devils. My hands went idle with the sin of inaction, but my mind met many others in the Neverset, that is how I became a witch in the first place. To be idle is to neglect all else in service of maintaining the inner statue. It is neither a good thing nor a bad one (all you humans seem to love categorizing all that exists as one of the two), it simply is. Sometimes to be idle in a flowing river is all one can do.

    Let's be more literal for a moment, yes?

    Rivers, you've heard of these things? Let's play at potamology. Every running stream seen by man only scratches the surface in a real and literal way. Underground rivers underneath ravines undulate rarely-seen until recovery. That's the truth of the matter, and I've visited these rivers beneath the groundwaves and I've seen the blind salamanders and the white fish. I'm a witch, so I can do this. Perhaps someday when the plague is over and the sun rises high on a world without fear, I will take you all on a journey to the center of the earth. We can walk in a cave with a ceiling so high that the sky seems finite, finished, static, simple, fairly flimsy by comparison. The rock will twinkle in the light of our torches. How magnificent it will be, I do think so I do think so.
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