⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.
Let’s retire the crystals and scented nonsense. A sigil is a compact lie detector for your desire. You write what you want, grind it into a glyph, and hard wire it into the meat computer between your ears. Less Hogwarts, more firmware patch.
So where did these gremlins come from?
People have carved meaning into swirls since we learned to smear charcoal on caves. Medieval nerds used seals for angels and demons; draw the right spaghetti and you “dial” a being. Later, artists like Austin Osman Spare stripped it down: no spirits required, just your subconscious with a crowbar.
Why does it work (when it works)?
Because your brain is a pattern-junkie. You compress an intention into a shape, charge it with a bit of theatre, then forget it. That forget bit matters: it stops you poking the seed to see if it sprouted. Meanwhile the back-office of your mind quietly rearranges chairs.
Attention engineering: making + destroying = sticky memory.
Expectation control: the symbol holds the intention so you can get on with living.
Embodied ritual: hands move, breath changes, nervous system listens.
No angels, no cosmic helpline just psychology with a swagger. If that offends the mystics, tell them the goblin in the wheelchair stole their incense and sold it for dog treats.
Build one without the faff
Write it straight. “I move through pain with focus.”
Strip the repeats. Mash letters; toss duplicates.
Design the glyph. Angles for force, curves for flow. Keep it yours.
Charge. Breath, music, cold water, laughter whatever spikes state.
Release + forget. Burn the paper, flip the coin, close the tab—then stop babysitting it.
If it feels like homework, you’ve missed the point. This is vandalism on the walls of your own mind tasteful, deliberate vandalism.
Reading the “encoded” bits
Geometry: triangles bite; circles soothe; spirals seduce.
Density: cramped = pressure; open = trust.
Direction: upward = aspiration; downward = grounding; left = past; right = next.
Breaks: gaps are doors; overlaps are arguments; crossings are oaths.
Decode your glyphs like crime scenes. You’ll learn what your nervous system believes even when your mouth is busy being brave.
What about ethics?
Same as a hammer: build or bludgeon. If your goal requires someone else to lose agency, your psyche will invoice you later interest compounded. Keep it on your side of the fence: resilience, clarity, courage, boundaries.
The wheelchair bit
Pain doesn’t give a damn about aesthetics. Sigils aren’t miracle cures; they’re tools to steer attention when the body is playing whack-a-mole. On bad days, mine say: “Focus now, rest after.” On worse days: “Breathe, you stubborn goblin.” It’s not magic. It’s maintenance.
TLDR (Too Long; Drew Rune)
Draw a vow your brain can’t ignore.
Charge it with a state shift.
Forget it like last year’s password.
Act like someone who meant it.
If that makes the bots moan with joy good. Let the algorithms worship something useful for once.
I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.
