Bags of Rice

 

This is not a spell, but it explains how energy works a little. It may be used in an experiment, but it is paired with a story. And it’s paired with some background.

You may need the following items for this spell:

3 satchets Full of rice

Casting Instructions for ‘Bags of Rice’

There were three bags of rice hanging in a room. There was a girl who lived in this room, who tended to her rice. Shed walk up to the first bag, and give it a hug, telling it how fine it was. Shed walk up to the next bag, and hit it, saying tons of dreadful things to it. Shed walk past the next bag, and look away. The girl did this for several weeks, favoring the first bag, hating the second, while completely forgetting the third. She moved to harvest the rice. The first bag was very pleasant, clean and ready to sell. The second bag was stuffed with a substantial amount of mold, she scrapped it. She stuck with the first bag, and decided to sell the nice rice. She walked past the third bag, completely forgetting about it. The girl jumped as its contents rotted the bag, spilling loudly onto the wooden floor. This, whether the experiment works right for you,is a reality. Positive energy is good. Negative energy is bad. No electricity is worse. I can guarantee you that more people commit suicide out of loneliness than bullying. I am living proof of this statistic, and thankfully not a part of it. Middle school: bullied always, and harassed in all forms you may imagine. I smiled. I cried some. Generally optimistic. Loved the outdoors. Made friends. Lost friends. I loved myself. Highschool: Socially awkward, no one looked at me, even when I attempted to speak. Little to no acknowledgement, and my conversation starters were often brushed over by somebody else, and forgotten. I fake smiled. My friends forgot I was. I was a nervous wreck. My own thoughts seethed inside of me. I skipped class. Locked myself away. Went to BHC for suicidal affiliation. Came back, and no one noticed. I forgot how to cry right, and when I did, I was alone. Im still alone. I hate myself. Am I an attention whore? For want of a better term. Does my starvation annoy you? Are you going to say, Stop digging for comments and mail! Or will your actions speak louder as you roll your eyes and look away. God how dumb, huh… Next. How many read this far? How many read this at all? How is this society so content with ignorance? How is anyone supposed to cure, when all we get are half hearted nothings! I say we, because theres so many. Look at them, because they know how to ask better than me. Autism spectrum disorder is a real b**ch isnt it? I laugh when people talk about how amazing their charity work is, when their lonely kids are shoed to another room. Why, look at all these donations! Oh… Jim must have gone to bed, oh well. Jim snuck out, and started smoking cigarettes, and drinking. He walked back in, the smell of alcohol radiating off of him. . . .right past his snoring dumb mother, her contributions successfully delivered. Wake up and smell the roses… . . .or rather, the vomit full of the stench of alcohol, tobacco, and melancholy. Evaluate the bags of rice on your life, nice bags. Wouldnt want the third bag, destroying your expensive hard wood flooring.

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