SEX & DEATH

 
27/2/09 - SEX and DEATH.

 
“ Two greatest obsessions and motivating forces that drive humanity"
 

Liberation
Enchantment
Evocation
Invocation
Divination
Gnosis
 
The truth exists within the symbolic crevices that are ridden throughout the history that my soul has withstood.
 that dark encoaxing misery that used to ride my soul and inject my heart with the most vile and toxic infestation of venom, has been replaced by the warmth of this splendorous embrace that can only match the definition that they call happiness. 
 
But misery would be an ongoing hell if happiness had not shown its face. 
 
I now understand why suffering is needed for anything good to be worth something.
 
For ying and yang presents the fact that all things have this soul which was split in two. Duality. 
 
Shattered with the line that drives the divide of dark and light, black and white, day and night. 
Thus, I have lived a life with my soul in accordance to a broken duality juxtaposed upon itself  in patterns without end. 
 
I'm deeply split. To the core. 

 
Last night I took a final walk and endured that the burden of his ghastly fixation that broke my heart, mind and soul in the most bitter desperation was a fragment of the past which I see as a once rumbling volcano, now lies dormant and repressed.
 but considered for it was the power I sucked from the "love" he ensnared which brought me the insight to dissolve the "reality" which used to attempt to skin me alive and slaughter the blazing fire inside with its mind-numbing hide and buildings made on a foundation of lies. Maybe I can build a city from the ashes.  
 
For our connection that retied and tied and wired strings that were trying not to spill the surging potential that hid within was smashed by the illusion he buried on my skin as he drove the syringe of poison in. 
 
The never-ending spiralling staircase to oblivion was extracted, and replaced with a vision that dissolved the meaningless division into a curious and clear journey that would broaden my scope for wisdom.
 
It is time to grow and evolve. 
 
For an indefinite length of time, my mind had been fed with contaminated lies and the misleading guide that our society provides and slides across humanity's eyes. 
 
I was sick with my disguises.
 
My obvious isolation and disheartened soul blackened with a slab of misinformation was the perfect equation of self-eradication, 
for when one is made to feel like such a disgusting degradation life becomes a purposeless humiliation. 
 
Suppression of all that surged within beating and hounding my heart for a means of release, denial of my insides resulted in apathetic bliss. 
 
I was building on the hope of an outsider's momentous sacrifice. 
 
The majority's quest for an enslaving demise. 
But for the years I spent locked in the dark, I could only feel half of my murmuring heart, I never felt at home being herded with the masses, nor belonging as one.
I always felt something was missing.
 I'm an outsider, who was cast out from the in;
something to circle the sea of what humanity thrives off with an electrifying glee and eccentric conditions. 
On the edge of surrender to the fucking pretender my spiral that could've ended with a lifeless teenage melancholic drama queens suicidal body smashing across the rocks;
swept up by the surging and chaotic currents that lament the rolling and glistening oceanic seas of this divine planet.
for my path was snared in the glassy endurance of a wave that is destined to climb and fall in the rising motion of the labile tides of time under tension,
It carried my lifeless body and as the sway of the rolling waves droned on for what seemed like an eternity of days until my fog-ridden haze was spread with the brightest daze, 
a mixture of chemical-induced craze on top of sweet-tasting riddles that caused my heart to sizzle, 
even when the coldest winter days, 
made that shiver turn into a body-shaking quiver. 
 
That burst of the divine alchemical riddle was an elixir I could never not chase. 
 
For a moment, the dark cold was kept away by his temporary embrace and with each perfectly delivered line my heart was degaussed and the catatonic mask was carefully removed, although in the end I was failed by him again and again. 
In the end, 
I am embraced by my inner animus, and his voice melted into my brain and taught me how to do the things I couldn't before. 
Now I am engulfed by the transfiguration of the chemical equation merging my sense of self from the old into the new, again and again, the journey, unending.
 
I do thank the correlation that provided the key to turn in the lock concealed under that heavily burdened block, the key to perceive.
 
It was a short journey inclined to shock and jolt my insides to a wide-eyed plight, 
The initiation of my darkest night of the soul, 
burning with passion to light the lack of sight covering my eyes. 
 
His warm comforting arms wrapped so perfectly around me that it wasn't hard to seethe with the exhilarating fury that engulfed as he walked away from me. 
But as I tumbled from the rapture of that well-documented capture that was brutal and beautiful enough to paint a fine and divine tunnel that entwined and ventured through even the most infinite divides and ranges that are embedded in one subconscious mind, for he showed my heart how to examine the picture that ones imagination indents in a bewildered whisper, when I learnt how to see an objective perception every motherfucking misconception was redefined and shown how to find the path that follows one's mind. I was hit by the illusion that brought me the path toward a fusion - for I will banish this disillusion!
 
Journey Inside
 

For each wicked laughing demon I hide 
Legions inside mirrors behind
with an intent to deride the underlying thirst that burns so intense, 
like an enchanted forest devoured by a flaming fire, 
Imagine as each shred of once untainted greenery is burnt to a crispy ash without mercy its once lively desire is slashed! 
The potential to quench this rampaging dryness that coats my insides like a heat-fueled desire is limited, 
when I opt to escape what instigates and manipulates its dirt-ridden traits trying to keep my eyes blinded like a good piece of bait. 
For when I run like a coward and try to escape hate I turn the potential for love and throw it away. I am darkness, 

I AM DEATH, I AM HATE. 

I am blessed, I am okay. 
Each dark-driven desire in turn provides the power to ignite into a bright and white light. 
That will crackle with delight and fill me with insight, 
each demon that doesn’t go buried and denied is worth 
the temporary snide for eventually it will share its will to slide down that spiral slide that is a cherished ride full of wisdom that hides power and knowledge, 
for once it was required that each sparking ignite that surged in flight was forced to endure a fight as it struggled to remain 
as a single complete charge that could spin and win 
with the energising whim of two polar extremes that existed within,
providing this powerful completion, that was more coherent 
than a puzzle pieced together,
or ordinary weather. 
Habits were provoked to evoke and the true nature awoke 
as each surge was callously drawn apart from the complete, 
full circular whirring spin.
It was just existing within and like a painful separation, 
all that existed was diced, split down the centre in a single slice! 
Roll the dice, splice, twice!
 
The surging spin had lost the fully charged whim and these disillusioned particles were injected with what we call rejection, a lost and molested abandoned product of separation, 
These molecular charges longed for reunification for the hand that would mould perfectly into yours, a fusing but eternally painful quest to regain the original equation of what adds to draw together as one from the first hint of separation the hole that follows began to evolve and it was then the split mould was given away to unfold in what manifested into day and night, black and white. The dark and the light that divides the essence of this life.
 
So what I'm trying to describe is how opposing forces have been summoned to a sleepless slur that will cause a havoc but invisible stir, 
 
Day brings the light and is followed by night which presents us with dark, is not a surprise that black contrasts with white for death follows life and my ultimate desire is to overrule this water racing against fire by dissolving away oblivious to the seductive sway of beautiful decay. 
 
This never-ending switch turns on and off but never stops,
 until one admits that everything apparent is also split, 
into an opposing glitch that threads the stitch that weaves together the fabricated illusion due to their disillusion, 
for they trick their minds to feel the impact of the programming.
 
Break the duality, the dichotomy is juxtaposed but both can exist as one creating the trinity, as Pythagoras once spoke of, the constructive angles that create the designs of the structures we build the blocks of our foundations in.
Build a way out.
 
humans, mostly, instead of being real and uncovering all that is reeled away out of grasp so they live blissfully in a heap of bullshit and tell themselves this two dimensional construct of a reality paradigm is all there is. 
it's a program engineered to manipulate your senses engineering your consciousness for the power-money-asset-controller pyramid point that control the resources, media, food, energy, information, land, all aspects of governance by design by design. (UN/AGENDA21/NWO)
 
its fact!
 
To be wise enough to override the lies is not for the weak or the cowards who are meek as the false foundations that formulate the lies are the only haven in which one might find that euphoric carefree splendour that laments a fictitious conclusion.
 
This is a trap, the illusion of democracy comes under the illusion of duality and corresponds to the myth of determinism/fate style philosophical modules of thought. 
 
FREE-WILL is what all reasonable humans should exercise, but not without both introspective and self-reflection and Socratic and intellectual discussion. 
 
Thinking from a macro-cosmic view, or a meta-view is also a way to engage in a deeper understanding of reality. 
 

**** NOTE FROM 2023:

 

I write this in 2023 after reading the 2009 journal entry that appears to be one of my first "magick journal" entries above working from "Liber Null & Psychonaut" by Peter Carroll.

 i was 17 years old and still had the foresight to know somehow to keep a magickal journal because i didn't know, i was a born magician/psychic/medium/spiritist.

.

 I had no “conscious” involvement in magickal work until a few years after this, (evidence says otherwise)when i was practicing daily ceremonial magick and since then i keep a strict magick journal that helps me piece together cause and effect. 

I don't understand anyone who claims to be a serious magician and not even log the most basic workings down in a notebook, it baffles to my core. If you can't write then type it but keep it private, why share everything you do?

Thinking from a macro-cosmic view, or a meta-view is also a way to engage in a deeper understanding of reality. 

 

Many people even today, be it in the alternative media, conspiracy, occult, magick, or community do not engage in healthy levels of both intellectual discourse and self-introspection that is without evocative, shouting emotionally jacked up opinions from the rooftop style social media commentary.

I am going back to analyse and reflect on my many years of shadow work and see the weakness and strength of character to build on in my present state. 

 

Say your truth on social media, but keep in mind, that journaling and keeping private notes and records of things is a timeless art that thousands of years worth of sorcerers stored into well-preserved (albeit often mega cryptographed) grimoires. 

I am also going back to these old journals as an exercise of introspection and self reflection, and because I wasn't properly practicing evocation per-say, I am happy to share my writing because I can now look at it in retrospect as the start of a very long dark night of the soul journey. I can no longer write the poetry of Chronzon, or the tunnels of set, so I ascribe myself the task of auditing them to understand my ordeals through the Qlioppth. 

 

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS WRITTEN FROM 2009, I was a teenager. 

NOT 2023. EDITED IN 2023. 

 

 

QOAW.