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With some of my veiws out of the way, let me introduce myself. I am Katcha. I have lived several lifetimes and as far as I can tell, my soul is close to 900 years old. I started my journey somewhere around Romania or Hungary, as a gypsy. Through many lifetimes I have been many places and many things. Most of my lifetimes I know little or nothing about, but a few stand out as clear as day.Some of it may be because out of all of my lifetimes, this is the oldest I have ever lived to be--42 and counting, but I believe that mostly it is because they don't want me to remember.
I started remembering things when I was about 3 or 4 years old. For years I believed them to be events of this life time, but by the time I was 9 or 10 I knew better. My mother always said I had a very vivid imagination and that I just "dreamed" this stuff up, but my father was more understanding. He taught and told me things that I did not understand at the time, but if he had waited for me to be old enough then that never would have happened. He died when I was 11. It was the first time I ever saw into the future. Things were still blurry, but I knew someone very close to me was going to die that day, and had I paid more attention to the signs I would have known who. This was not my first experience with the supernatural, just my first experience with prophesy.
Even before that day I had seen "things". Spirits, ghosts, demons, who really knows.They were there, though. I could hear voices calling my name when no was there, voices I still hear sometimes. I began practicing rituals when I was about 7 or 8. I thought I'd made them up at the time, but after I became a teenager and truely started "practicing", I realized that many of these were ancient Celtic rituals. The things that just seemed natural to me were what others would call "witchcraft". I was practicing without really knowing it. I started my first "coven" when I was 8, again without really realizing what I was doing. I had quite a few followers before the teachers and parents started complaining.
My father would tell me stories about when he was younger. "Ghost" stories and such. Tell me about the things his ex-wife would do. "She was a witch", he would say, then describe the rituals she would do. Told me about what you can do with a strand of hair and how to sell your soul. Things my mother didn't believe in. The last "ghost story" my father told me was about a week before he died. Told us how the devil had visited him and tried to make a deal with him. When he refused the devil's offer, the devil got mad and left. If there was more to it, I do not know, but after that he started talking about how he wanted his funeral and who should get all his belongings. My mother told him he was just dreaming.She never believed in that kind of stuff until after I was a teenager and things really started getting interesting, then she accused me of being a satanist.
As I said, my father died when I was 11. For days before his death these massive birds sat in the top of the tallest tree on a hill in our yard. I had never before seen birds that big and never again have since his death. By this time my youngest uncle was into the darker arts and he began telling me things. I was still very involved in the baptist church, but the pagan arts were becoming more intriguing, but I had a fear of practicing them.
My mother was a pentycostal. She never went to church,though, and I don't believe she's as religious as she always let on. I went to the pentycostal church for about a year to make my mother happy, though. The first time I entered the church the preacher called me to the front and laid hands on me because I was "demon possessed". I began speaking in "tounges" and they believed I was filled with "The Holy Spirit". Truely, I was speaking in a demon tounge and they had opened a door for me without realizing it. After that day I tried to refrain from this language, but it is quite a chore to do so, especially when I am angered. It rolls out without me even realizing it and it always seems to be curses that come. I don't believe the pentycostal path, but they were the ones who opened the first doors to my being.
Everything else just went from there. I belonged to a coven for a while, but find I prefer the way of the lone practitioner best. I try to keep to the light path, but darkness always finds me. I can sadly say that there have been times I have even befriended entities like Death, Legion, and Loki. I know I shouldn't trust entities such as these, but Death and Legion were there for me in some of my darkest times, and, well, Loki is just fun. My best friends of the other realms have always been the imps. I have spoken to angels and demons alike, and sadly the darker ones make me feel more "like myself", so you can understand my fears. First, my fear of practicing as a whole, and now my fear of unlocking the door and going through. In some ways I already am engulfed by the darkness.
September 9, 2006 Update:
When opening doorways it seems you find more questions than answers. Just as the many different entities you come across have their own agendas and stories to tell. I find I no longer am sure about anything I once thought I knew. My origins for instance. When I first wrote this page I was led to believe that my soul was merely 900 years old and that I started out as a gypsy. Now it seems I am much older and may have began my journy in ancient Greece or Egypt. And what am I? Depending on what entity you ask determines what I am. Some say I'm a mere mortal - nothing special, while others call me the daughter of Isis, Athene, Bazeel, or Gaia, and still others call me a sucubus or demoness (or daughter there of). I find myself drawn to Loki like a moth to a flame, just as many other dark entities seem to be drawn to me. Does that make me evil?
The last doorway I opened led to a black room. The doorway itself was round and a giant creature guarded it. After pushing my way past the creature, I entered the room. In it's midst was a large dark violet sphere. The sphere was radiating energy in the form of tiny lightning bolts. I reached out and grabbed it and was filled with its energy. As it filled my body, the sphere became illuminated, but kept it's dark purple color. I held on for several minutes before letting go. At this time the image of blood stained hands entered my thoughts. Were they mine or someone elses? Did they tell of past crimes or future sins? Perhaps the next door will tell me.
October 26, 2019 Update:
Yes, it's been many years since I've updated this. May of 2007 brought the end of my marriage and began a lot of mental turmoil. I put my inner journey on hold for the next 7 years. I still practiced and had a small coven of sorts consisting of myself, my daughter, and two of her friends. My daughter, her one friend, and I became known as the Norns, me being compared to Skald of Norse mythology. We followed the path Loki laid before us. In 2014 I tried to reestablish my journey and opened another door. There I found a "girl" with razor sharp teeth. She begged me to promise she'd never be left alone again. I have ventured no further on my journey since encountering her. Our coven of three has split ways and I have new ghosts that follow me. I remarried in 2008, but we didn't last either and divorced in 2015. However, we remained best friends until his death in 2018 and his ghost still visits from time to time. I am once again married to a non-pagan, living with his Christian family, so actually being able to practice and continue my journey is hard, but I have been able to do little things here and there. I hope to be able to eventually continue my journey and discover where I'm truly meant to be.
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Why I Don't Take Students
My Experiences
Memories, Visions, and Dreams
Fun Stuff - Quizzes I've Taken And Such
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