(School has started up, and it’s being quite vicious. I know posting has been falling by the wayside, but I’ll try to keep it weekly.)
Since the beginning of society, it seems, blood has held a special meaning. We make blood oaths, swear that blood is thicker than water, invent demonic entities that live off it. Why do we hold blood in such high esteem?
Simply put, blood is life. It flows throughout the body, replenishing your energy and revitalizing your organs. If it is tainted, or you lose too much, you die. Therefore, it’s clear why blood would become an important symbol of life and strength. In Shakespearean terms (I’m reading his plays this semester), the term ‘blood’ also refers to intense emotions.
Because of long centuries of belief, blood does invoke a certain power. I’ve seen multiple sites advising people to strengthen their spells by adding a drop of blood or two to a runescript or other item. I can’t say I was too excited to comply. The idea of cutting myself or even pricking my finger makes me antsy – it’s lucky I’m not a diabetic. My stomach also churned at the suggestion that females use more powerful ‘moon blood’. Girls – you know what I’m talking about. That would just be nasty.
Anyway, I’m usually up for trying something at least once. As I was innocently chopping up an apple, my knife slipped and cut a narrow gash on my finger. Did I bandage it? No. I went upstairs, found my rune casting cloth, and carefully blotted a drop of blood on it.
Of course, if anyone asks, I’m saying it’s ketchup.




