Does not feel right in this moment to go back to the routine.
…not quite Phorzhicoan anymore, am I? Something else…
Just feeling a bit faint, a bit warm in a hot flash sense. So different in my youth when it really was more of a singularity in my approach, feed, and departure. I like drifting among groups of happy people and casually drawing out the essence of human fun–dancing, laughing, chatting, sweetness of joyful living. Phorzhicoa feeding need not be in dark, lonely spaces, but can be in the midst of the action, as long as some semblance of an exchange is met to dampen suspicions of most, save for those few humans gifted with discernment.
As I slowly matured the hunt ceased to be a hunt for many and emerged as a search for one.
Doesn’t seem to feel right tonight to just jump in and feast. Phorzhicoan spells work like anesthesia on the conscious mind, and from what I can see through my Phorzhicoan eyes, our spells tend to bend towards imposing a coma-like state on the targeted object of focus. Communion remains elusive and distant, and upon awakening, the object departs. The feeding process itself ends and we move on. My search for one turned me from this path.
There are no spells or works for this feeling here, and as such, this must be a true exchange that begins with the meeting of eyes.
Given what I’ve sensed, it seems more satisfying to engage in an exchange. In other words, connect. Something that could feel mutually consensual and aware as the energy and fluids pass back and forth in those moments before the room melts in hallucinogenic glory of all the Gods passing through you like a flock of birds. At the departure of the initial wave of pleasure comes the recognition and welcoming of two spirits in communion. Humans who have not crossed into Phorzhicoan space call this love. Phorzhicoans like me who progress beyond the feeding dance call this evolution.
There are no spells for love or evolution.