tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64867421437761951632023-12-17T05:09:26.800-05:00Hodos HolosFortune and love favor the people who don't give a schijt about fortune and love. -Your DemiurgeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.comBlogger281125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-77459655355707971002016-11-01T02:27:00.000-04:002016-11-01T02:27:03.791-04:00Dark Moon in Scorpio, All Hallow's Eve 2016<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The night of the New Moon, All Hallow's Eve, I dreamt I went with my mother and father out of town. We came to this church. It was almost exactly like my Uncle Boyd's church use to be - Asheville Full Gospel Tabernacle - but some things were different. A spiral stairway. An alcove in the sanctuary. It was as if the same people who built his church built this church. I wandered around marveling at the similarities and small differences. The preacher came in - a clean-cut older gentleman. Some event was starting. The sanctuary seemed very large and spacious - there was a runner's track put down inside it. My mother and father and I went and took our places on it. There was a referee type person. He said he would only measure the time. It was up to us to keep track of our points. I thought this odd, as cheating seemed likely. An older woman and her husband and a young woman came and took their places on the track. We were all waiting for the referee to start us off. I was bent down on one knee waiting to spring into action. My dad pulled an apple out and offered it to me. I took a bite. It was very juicy and sweet and refreshing. I handed it back to him to finish. After what seemed like forever the race finally started.<br /><br />I had very little control of myself running - it felt like being in a video game that has very poor control mechanics. The running lanes were hard to stay in. As soon as I built up speed, the turns would really mess me up - I had to slow to almost a halt. The young woman - I was keeping up with her - side by side. I felt sexual attraction to her.<br /><br />Overall this reminded me of going on trips with my parents when I was very young - a sense of exploration. A pretty girl eye contact has been made with. It felt good, wholesome.<br /><br />Now that it is Halloween Night, I am very struck by the experience with my dad, and the exchange, the sharing of the apple. I had done ancestor work the previous night - and indeed tonight and I will tomorrow night. Life is very unsure right now. I feel like my dad gave me a symbol of a good omen.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-51379824606393680312016-04-20T03:11:00.002-04:002016-04-20T17:24:10.140-04:00Cursing w. Profile Pics & Black Skull Candle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you don't believe in black magic, in harming others, in
cursing, in causing pain and suffering, in revenge magic - then you must
believe that there is no purpose in evil. That it is only a stupid vile useless
force. Oh, beloved, there is great purpose in evil. Pain and suffering are the
only pedagogues in town. Teach someone something - for their own damn good.
Teach them really well. Open the maw of hell up to them. Watch as they are
consumed. Take pride in such holy work.<br /><br />I'm using what I have on hand. You can add or subtract as you see fit. You will need:<br /><br />Photo of Target<br />Black Skull Candle<br />Walnut Leaves </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Poppy Seeds<br />Mustard Seeds</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Red Pepper</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Asafoetida<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Black Pepper Corns<br />Blackberry Leaf<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mullein</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Spanish Moss</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Graveyard Dirt (from an appropriate grave)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Box of Pins</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />For incense:<br />Calamus<br />Licorice Root</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />On the back of their photo write their name, stacked, 9 times. Turn the photo 1/4 turn, counter-clockwise and write the specific curse you wish to bring down upon their head, stacked 9 times. Example curse: "Fear, confusion, nightmares and delusions". Anoint the four corners and center with Black Arts Oil. Fold the photo away from you in half, turn it 1/4 turn counter-clockwise and fold it in half away from you again. Repeat this a last time for a total of three folds. <br /><br />Hollow the bottom center of the skull candle out and place the photo in there with walnut leaves and Spanish moss. Use a rusty nail to inscribe the thoughts you wish to bring to the person on the skull. Remember - skull candles influence thoughts.<br /><br />Anoint the skull with Black Arts Oil in swirling motions. Now put the rest of the natural curios on by letting them sprinkle down from your fist on top of the skull. Don't open the box of pins yet.<br /><br />When you are ready to do your curse work, light a charcoal and place the calamus and licorice root on it. This is to enhance your power to dominate their thoughts.<br /><br />Now light the skull candle and begin your curse work. Let the hate flow through you, as Emperor Palpatine would advise. As you curse, heat the needles and stick them in the eyes, the ears, the mouth. This work is best done in the deep hours, when your target is asleep, and more susceptible to your influence. You may pinch the candle out when you tire yourself, and come back consecutive nights.<br /><br />When the candle is burned, take all that's left over to the graveyard and bury it. Cleanse your ritual space with Florida Water. Take a hyssop bath - steep the hyssop in rain water. Light two white candles, stand between them, and pour the hyssop bath over your head while reciting the 51st Psalm.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-47495284159340654572016-04-01T01:45:00.001-04:002016-04-07T16:14:42.670-04:00Waning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My passion is nought. The nights are long and arduous, leaving me with little energy for the morrow. Each day is a fallen ruin, in whose shadow lays all the power and all the sopor of despair.<br />
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The only thing I sometimes hope to strive for is revenge - people aren't even worth bothering with that about. Time will do that for me. They are pitiable creatures enough. At least I have the mind to know the misery of life. It is justice that I give them no pity. Let their illusions slowly be eroded on the jagged rocks. Let not realization come but before the darkness engulfs their terrified soul.</div>
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But this, it is not enough - I must constantly endure the wounds placed upon me in silence. Just endure, endure, endure, as a Christ crucified, with no witnesses to the horrendous spectacle but my own demons, who say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing but terrible patience. </div>
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Some people would give the world for another day with family, friends, children. It aggravates my wounds as salt to see a pretty woman, to hear a song of love, to be in a place where people seem happy. I feel as though an invisible fist has mightily struck within my being when I see a woman smile lovingly at a man, a mother and child, to see people having lunch with someone with whom they enjoy the company of. Everything speaks with vacuous mockery. This must be what it is like to be an earth bound spirit. Everything is a torment, a reminder of a time when you were once human. When once there was hope in a future, hope in being happy, fulfilled. In having a life and sharing it. In loving someone.</div>
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There is nothing now but enduring. I was not designed for this world. It is harsh. The people within in it are cruel and barbarous. All their actions are borne from selfishness. They really do not know what they do. Many people such as myself become more monstrous than the monsters. I have been that. It doesn't stop the pain. It doesn't stop the scenes playing over and over and over again; doesn't stop the words that were said from echoing in your head day after day. As the years pass by, the afflictions are not relieved. They only become a deeper source of pain. They become more deeply enmeshed in one's soul. A slow murder. They take everything and become all that you are, all that you can feel, all that you know.</div>
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I want them to know what they have done. I want them to understand and perceive what it was that made me different inside from anyone they will ever know. Why it was that I was so guarded, so unwilling to let my walls down. I want them to see the destruction they have wrought before their own destruction comes. I have no hope of this ever happening. There is no justice. There are only horrors and tragedy. I see the world for what it is. I see a place of pain and death, where none clings to anything but out of selfishness or desperation. If true love exists, it is not within this realm. Here true love is a term used to conceal mixed motives, dark secrets and sinister agendas, which is all the more Satanic, because these are pursued unconsciously, and called love in earnest.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-34139368161473835382016-03-23T01:14:00.002-04:002016-03-23T01:16:53.718-04:00A Fool's Faith<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span data-offset-key="8d2lo-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true">The Fool is going to go over the cliff. The Fool's number is Zero. There is nothing within The Fool. The Fool is empty. Folly is all that makes up The Fool.</span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="8d2lo-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true">The Fool is unaware of the unbearable pain and suffering that is about to come. </span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="8d2lo-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true">At the bottom of the cliff The Fool's body will begin to decompose, for forty days and forty nights under the black star of Saturn. </span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="8d2lo-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true">This is the shaman's crucible. The making of a true mystic. This will be the most horrific and transformative experience, other than physical death itself. </span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="8d2lo-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true">If you survive the process of the black work, the old you will be forever a sad and distant memory. You don't come back. Something else does. </span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-68136183281782450332016-03-12T02:54:00.000-05:002016-03-12T05:26:44.746-05:00Magic Isn't For Idealists<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br><br>My first serious attempt at magic to change my world was a love drawing mojo. I selected a
number of appropriate materia magica and used a pendulum to divine which ones
to put in the mojo. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The name Michael came to me. Michael was the spirit of the
mojo whose job it was to bring me love. And did he. Disastrously. It actually
did work like magic - on two women. One was an employee at a local business.
I went in, asked her assistance in my purchase, joked with her, got home, and she had contacted me
on facebook - she had gotten my name off of my debit card. I made the mistake of telling her about
my mojo eventually. That relationship ended very badly after around 2 months - my shortest relationship ever, and one that would cause me intense pain and sorrow for many more months. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This wasn't the spirit's fault. As I heard someone
say recently, just because a spirit gets you something, doesn't mean you have
to take it. I fell hard for that woman, but she never fell for me. She was momentarily charmed by me. I was
brought an opportunity for love - not the only opportunity brought by Michael, and I screwed both up. Big time. <br><br>We tend to have this idealistic view of the world, that whatever happens is for the best.
Fate, destiny. God knows best, and he has us where he wants us. Magic is not for those type of sit-down people. Magic is for practical people who want to create their world.<br><br>Disaster looms, as is at the foot of the Zero Trump. To muck about with your own consciousness, your own immediate world, and infinite possibilities of future worlds, this takes first and foremost, balls. The Fool, in older depictions, had his balls out, which a cat was in the midst of pouncing at. The cliff was in front. The Fool is about to die the death. The Black Work. Nigredo. Putrefaction. The point of extreme despair, to kill off everything that has been preventing development as a person, as a magician. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back to this night of Venus. I've learned a thing or two in my sorcerer's apprenticeship. I'm taking the remains of that old mojo, and I'm creating a very special working. In a way, I'm honoring it, recognizing its value. I got what I wanted, and it destroyed me, and ended up being what I needed. The paradox is that fate doesn't happen but by free will. If you want to make your ideas real, you must act on them. When you act on them, everything changes, broadens, expands. The paradigm from whence your ideas spring is altered.</span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><span style="font-size: large;">Nobody is going to save you. You are the master of your fate. You are the captain of your soul. This is the reality. You can sit high and smugly pretending to be content with your ideas of the world, or you can set out to conquer. Zephyrus and I are making haste across the 7 seas to see and seize.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><br>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-78506256529622020002016-03-11T01:23:00.000-05:002016-03-11T10:54:06.073-05:00Dream: Lava and Fences<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last night I dreamt of being in this multi-story wooden structure, large and somewhat rustic. There were lots of people. I don't think I liked them very much. From what I remember emotionally, it felt like a love interest had betrayed me. She had turned to her friends. They didn't like me. I remember frantically running around this building. I can't remember if I was trying to hide or what. It was very tense. I think I may have had a gun. In every single dream that I have a gun, I can't pull the trigger - I try and try, but the trigger pull weight is always too much. Somehow a fire started in the lower levels of the wooden structure and began to spread quickly.<br /><br />I looked down and saw that people were being consumed in the flames below. They couldn't make it out or to the upper levels where I was. I watched silently as the flooring fell into a great fiery abyss. I saw a top-down view of a volcano erupting. I stared stupidly at it before I realized what it was. I was looking at lava, on it's way upwards. I began to run. I climbed over, through, up. I looked behind me. Some 30 feet back, the lava was coming. The wooden structure was being consumed. I was already tired. I pushed myself harder. I finally emerged from what had been something like a large multi-story temple. I was standing in marsh land - green with growth. The ground was very soft and in places saturated with water. There was a fence ahead. The lava was still coming quickly. I jumped the fence. Ran a few yards and had to jump another fence. This continued on and on. With each fence I had to jump I grew more and more tired. I woke up.<br /><br />The feeling of having been part of these people - and of intimacy with one of the women was very strong, as was the sense of betrayal. I had been, for whatever reason, completely shut out and ostracized from them. Had she cheated on me? I remember a particular male from the dream. I had a distinct hatred for him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These are reoccurring themes within my waking life. Those scars will never heal. There is nothing so devastating to an individual as betrayal and rejection. To love someone, and have absolutely no reciprocation. No meaning to them. It is a type of murder. The person I was, is no longer. Something else is in his place.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-4294493676413738592016-03-08T01:09:00.001-05:002016-03-08T01:13:20.427-05:00Nekumanteion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Saturnine Prince</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That Death didst follow from birth</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Gazing downwards through life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Seeking that in deepest earth</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcop_uJ9fXjs9GNoyoD08ovXFwGMMy-wXocrpDk4ih6ug16kjWqBV93OgPTYQDgipmxaNt3H_BKSOhLc7O6yLvH_2h3Ntgm-yN6xoMMHhatvjXUlbKAouJI33ieH8VjpSmlp5h4-OnfwrP/s1600/pictures-TB_attractions-1-2010-%25C3%2584%25C5%259Alove%25C4%25B9%25CB%2587ka_ribica_-proteus_%2528Proteus_anguinus%2529_286668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcop_uJ9fXjs9GNoyoD08ovXFwGMMy-wXocrpDk4ih6ug16kjWqBV93OgPTYQDgipmxaNt3H_BKSOhLc7O6yLvH_2h3Ntgm-yN6xoMMHhatvjXUlbKAouJI33ieH8VjpSmlp5h4-OnfwrP/s200/pictures-TB_attractions-1-2010-%25C3%2584%25C5%259Alove%25C4%25B9%25CB%2587ka_ribica_-proteus_%2528Proteus_anguinus%2529_286668.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Silence bearing the markings of time</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Crystal tittering, echoes absorbed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The lithe white proteus in motion </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here I am present and unaware</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Deep calls to deep</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is no revelry</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is melancholy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A warm bitter sweet anguish</span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Memories of what was and cannot be</span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The broken heart that dieth not</span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mania, Larunda, Muta, Dea Tacita!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-70690240559957131262016-02-18T17:12:00.001-05:002016-02-18T18:39:21.625-05:00Thoughts On Relaxation Ritual<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Relaxation Ritual is a preliminary to any magical work. It's much like the beginning of many hypnotic inductions. Most of these either start with bringing some relaxing sensation and/or visualization down from the head or up from the feet. Of course, the Golden Dawn has you bringing up a yellow ball from your feet. This never felt right to me. It was always a struggle, and I couldn't ever make sense of it. I've read something about the light of Tiphareth coming through to the sphere of Malkuth - but that seems a stretch of justification. I would visualize the sphere moving up my body and feel the warmth from it raise to the top of my head - but it was fragmented. It didn't seem whole somehow. By the time I was to my head, my feet were cold. I tried growing the sphere in size, beginning at the feet - but that was difficult to visualize as well - like gum being blown into an expanding outward bubble - the end from which it expanding wasn't right. It was awkward.<br /><br />Tiphareth in Queen Scale is golden. It corresponds to Sol. In the Middle Pillar Ritual one vibrates the divine name YHVH Eloah va-Daath while visualizing the sphere in one's solar plexus / heart region. It took me a while to nail down the center of the sphere pertaining to where it was in relation to my body. I now feel the sphere vibrating in response to the vibrating of the Divine Name. That is now where I now begin the Relaxation Ritual. The yellow sphere doesn't go up or down. It grows larger, from center, until it contains my entire body, my entire sphere, in golden healing warmth. The sensation is the same as laying out underneath the warm sunshine. Your body radiates with the heat, all tension you are holding slowly melts. Your jaw unclenches, your eyes tilt slightly upwards. You are deep within and present of mind. You may hear flatulence, but it is far away. :D</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-5929272565499813672016-02-18T01:28:00.002-05:002016-02-18T01:55:56.582-05:00Uncrossing Ritual — I In Try Angel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think I'm busier doing now than I have ever been, and I just keep gaining momentum. I'm going to have to start getting up earlier to even fit in what all I've got going. Magick is a big part of this, and in my belief the catalyst for this movement. I realize a lot of what I write makes people roll their eyes, and say, "It's just his imagination." It's not just. It is my imagination. Whatever that is. Unconscious mind. Whatever that is. What I know objectively is that I am having extremely meaningful experiences daily which are cumulatively creating exponential growth in me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had just gotten my Saint Anthony altar set up. Some very special items. I lack a candle holder and small picture frame, but other than that, I'm good I think. I planned to petition him because I've lost a lot of stuff I'd like to find. After I set the altar up, I decided that I would gather the items the Undine had shown me the previous day. I found a couple more items I should rid myself of, but I couldn't find the one painting. I eventually just gave up. I leaned over my desk, looked down, and there was the arrowhead. The arrowhead I've been looking for for months. I found it with my now deceased friend Troy Dill, out in the plowed fields of rural Hendersonville, NC, along with a bunch of pottery bits. It was my first arrowhead that I actually found; pulled from the ground. I hadn't been able to find it, and I wanted it for my Black Hawk bucket. That bucket is what kicked off my encounters with spirits, in a big way. I think of it as my ancestor altar. I had looked everywhere for that arrowhead. Especially on that desk, because that's where I last had remembered it being. I tore the entire house up multiple times, and now, here it was just sitting in plain view on top of the desk. I grabbed it, anointed it with Indian Spirit Guide oil and carefully placed it in the bucket with my other special objects. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">With this done, I went to take my uncrossing bath. Details in my previous post. I became very relaxed. I thought of my dad, his life, the last few years of it, and his death. A particular event came to mind, and I kind of started to tear up - and then it hit me - it was happening again. Phase 2. I expanded my astral sphere. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Dad, where are you?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"I'm here."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"This mind stuff is cool, isn't it? Dad, what am I suppose to do?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Eye in the triangle."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Eye in the triangle? I thought of years back how I would listen to Alex Jones, and when my dad came home from work, I would have him listen, and we would both get all riled up about that blasted Illuminati. What was he trying to tell me? I said it over and over until I came to "I in triangle. I in. Ayin." What was the "triangle"? I opened my eyes and looked at the candle. It had angel wings. The candle had melted and somehow had perfect angel wings extending from each side. They extended at least a couple of inches out from a tiny altar candle. I stared at it stupidly for a few moments and then it hit me. "Try Angel!" The second that thought hit me, the right "wing" fell off of the candle, startling me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I knew what it was about. I've been attempting to memorize the Bornless Ritual in preparation to attempt K&C/HGA. I'd read the HGA book from Nephilim, read the Abramelin Ramble, I have Newcomb's book and the Book of Abramelin. Earlier this very day I read a comment on social media that Aaron Leitch made about a former girlfriend who broke up with him because she thought he was making this stuff up. And then she actually saw Aaron's angel. Funny, huh?<br /><br />I sat in the bathtub pondering until the candle burned out.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-34067517555512036792016-02-17T01:58:00.003-05:002016-02-17T02:08:21.233-05:00Uncrossing Ritual & Catfish Undine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">That's a picture of my batch of uncrossing bath mix. I'll give the ingredients further down. I had been making the first progress of my life, after an especially horrid 3 years. I knew of uncrossing, but when a friend, Jon, mentioned it to me and shared a link to an uncrossing ritual, I decided to go about my own, borrowing from here and there, using what I had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I made the above jar. I took a bath for 2 nights in a row and then got sick. I then got sicker. I went to the local Minute Clinic, spent several hundred dollars for 20 antibiotic pills and then I went to the dentist. That's a whole other story. Basically though, I began to take care of some stuff I had been neglecting. I stopped drinking caffeine. I bought a Ninja blender. I'm drinking fruits and vegetables during the day and eating fish and rice at night. I'm beginning to feel good again. I even plan to start exercising via body weight training. So....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I begin the uncrossing ritual I began but never finished. I had planned to go 7 days. I bought some uncrossing incense, altar candles and oils. The first night I burned a white candle dressed in Van Van oil during my bath. I got out feeling fantastically refreshed. I missed the next night - I forget why - I think I had an early appointment and was just tired. So....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Today I had acquired some uncrossing oil. I lit the uncrossing incense and dressed the same white altar candle with the oil. I poured my bath and added the uncrossing mix. This time I got the water really freaking hot. I laid there thinking about this and that. Since adjusting my diet I've had a lot more energy. I actually look for stuff to do instead of places to sit. There's a lot to do. Eventually my mind quietened a bit. I looked up at the tile, steam rising from the water. I saw a face. Cat. Fish. Catfish. Perhaps an Undine. Then it blinked out. I didn't see it, but my eyes went to where I felt it go. A painting. I literally instantly began to tear up. From that strange position laying in the bathtub, that painting is most noticeable. I hadn't thought about it in a long time. I hadn't wanted to think about it. It was a painting I had asked my ex wife to paint when she was my wife. I asked her to paint the sea. She placed a small boat with two people fishing upon the sea. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlo1m3sC35j7BZuKm2IeiO3ispjDwM2jLj9IRuYEFSZxps9C3_ASiQnHo5Stu3tvIWQ8tc9fH86b2j_mJ9nQhBbtPN9ypS8fUKHl-O0097vQqnNGgP5qUAg-Tf6ruiQFSlIX081kYNsIUI/s1600/Zelda_ALttP_Big_Catfish.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlo1m3sC35j7BZuKm2IeiO3ispjDwM2jLj9IRuYEFSZxps9C3_ASiQnHo5Stu3tvIWQ8tc9fH86b2j_mJ9nQhBbtPN9ypS8fUKHl-O0097vQqnNGgP5qUAg-Tf6ruiQFSlIX081kYNsIUI/s1600/Zelda_ALttP_Big_Catfish.gif" /></a></div>
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Not the painting - this is from Zelda.... :p</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">For almost 4 years I've been burying the feelings around what happened with my marriage. I used 3 relationships and a fortune in alcohol afterwords to try to forget. Over 2 years passed before I even had the will to change our bedroom. Anyway, all those old feelings flooded me. I knew I had to get rid of the painting - send it to her - bury it - something. I looked back up at the tiles on the bath. I saw that face again. And then it changed to an alien face. An alien face that I knew. Immediately my mind went to another painting I had asked my wife to do of my first short-story. A science fiction piece. It had been stuck somewhere in my library room, long out of mind and sight. I knew I had to get rid of it too. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tears running down my face I looked back at the tile, astonished at what was taking place. I saw a butterfly, sort of broken. I knew what it was. My ex wife's butterfly hairpiece she wore on our wedding day. I knew where it was. I had stuck it in a drawer. I'm not sure why. I had to get rid of it, of everything of hers that I had just left around the house as some sort of memorials that somehow weren't occupying my conscious mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I looked back at the tile and the catfish face was there again. And then gone. I just sat there in the water letting these feelings wash over me. I was astonished at the effectiveness of uncrossing. I sat up and pulled the drain and at that exact moment the candle wick burned out. Ritual done.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Even as I dried myself off, I was unconsciously not looking at the painting again. Already gone back to not wanting to think about it, look at it, or touch it. I was shocked at how completely different my state of mind and emotional state had been in the water. Regardless - I'm gathering those things up and getting rid of them. I've 6 more days of this ritual to go, and was blown away by tonight. Before typing this, I just sat staring at the computer, lost in reflection and astonishment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Uncrossing Bath Mix</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Epsom Salt</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bay</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Vervain</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rue</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hyssop</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rose petals</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lavender</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dragons blood</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-9587514146455351022016-02-13T00:30:00.000-05:002016-02-13T01:32:57.355-05:00B6 & Zinc Dream - Starship Captain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeeTmyHL8BJ492Xme-Nf2rwFBWEiBWqY-g4X7Djxgu1xfILTJNa0GUv1Uxk3KV6CfyeFXSMp-o2ibTsiAyp5y4a-gdKQHuN5nebe3pcKO5vSuTlmyHQsLDia9FQI5fr0oZnae0lFPI9vf/s1600/652__x_005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeeTmyHL8BJ492Xme-Nf2rwFBWEiBWqY-g4X7Djxgu1xfILTJNa0GUv1Uxk3KV6CfyeFXSMp-o2ibTsiAyp5y4a-gdKQHuN5nebe3pcKO5vSuTlmyHQsLDia9FQI5fr0oZnae0lFPI9vf/s640/652__x_005.jpg" width="640"></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had a fellow magician friend share an <a href="http://www.ergo-log.com/vitamin-b6-the-dream-vitamin.html" target="_blank">article</a> on B6 and Zinc increasing the vividness of dreams when taken before sleep. I tried it out. I dreamt the following:</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was in a mountainous region, not unlike where I live. I was in a neighborhood, outside of a house. My cat had run off. This was not my house, but was somewhere that I was visiting. I walked to the end of the drive. A cat fell from from a high hill. It landed on its side with a thunk, and got up and walked off. It was not my cat. My cat was black. I walked down the hill, towards the street below. As I did, I noticed a cat approaching me slowly. Then another, and another. Slowly I was surrounded by cats. They seemed to be about to attack me. I frantically looked for my black cat, afraid she would be killed by this pack of cats surrounding me. I saw her. She ran in the direction away from me. I tried to catch up with her, but the street was suddenly filled with people. A wedding party that had just let out.</span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The people were nicely dressed. They were foreign. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes. The street was very crowded. I bumped into a woman. She was the bride. She was running away from a very agitated groom. I somehow helped her. I think I told her where she could hide. A man who was employed by the groom offered me money. The bride snatched it and ran off. I told the man not to tell the groom that she had taken the money, nor to tell him she had left.</span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The scene was becoming intense. Men were looking for me now. One approached me with a large knife. I fought him. I was stabbed near the area of my liver. I placed my hand over it. I had to get out of here. I retreated with my black cat to my Starship. It hovered above the entire scene, somehow translucent. The engines fired, and I was gone. The men below were still searching for me. I was no longer even in their time.</span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_4sEN7vvZhnUxE_4dfe0F1FEPXF-ke6Bdt_c_6tWKbWTMQawPVtFNPIL1yHAY3VYpq9l_OniyVan627pNeaqiQ-aBfDLGDnCrb0VLo6IncfZw9z7JiZGl5Sl-TclmQJk-5O9z9WtgtoXW/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_4sEN7vvZhnUxE_4dfe0F1FEPXF-ke6Bdt_c_6tWKbWTMQawPVtFNPIL1yHAY3VYpq9l_OniyVan627pNeaqiQ-aBfDLGDnCrb0VLo6IncfZw9z7JiZGl5Sl-TclmQJk-5O9z9WtgtoXW/s1600/images.jpg"></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br><br>In the next scene, I am walking down a secluded country road. It feels like home. Deep in the Appalachians. Lush mountain forest borders the land. I am walking towards a homestead. I look up in the sky. There is a day moon out. I keep looking at the sky. It becomes translucent. I see the stars behind the sky. I see a second moon. The second moon looks cartoonish. I begin to sing the song:<br><br><i>The Mighty Moon is out</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Where the Mountains end</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I become thrilled. I know that song is from my other dream. Something of tremendous import is here. I wake up.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-16816406330263453582016-02-08T01:06:00.001-05:002016-02-08T01:29:28.223-05:00Black Star & Scythe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_oIgc2mn4zPvT93Z0gXgZQmcuQC6UbNQxxYV22q0fcz1jn26PIeGisMWHNEEDcyPjXe4HxVTz6KW_wsZG5D9l_tw1dVbNEqNRQ_BVznp2ESQc9KRecIEH28pjaYfEDoa6MdYN-JvBb2Y/s1600/12540605_10206500465122851_8351537039551036290_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_oIgc2mn4zPvT93Z0gXgZQmcuQC6UbNQxxYV22q0fcz1jn26PIeGisMWHNEEDcyPjXe4HxVTz6KW_wsZG5D9l_tw1dVbNEqNRQ_BVznp2ESQc9KRecIEH28pjaYfEDoa6MdYN-JvBb2Y/s640/12540605_10206500465122851_8351537039551036290_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY5TYFXom-gSCN51iMqBIsUUizA8MHmJG_KaSzEIN3Dy9L9KUjF6EV-QUKrhNfKKGEYbJWEBHu2VOkBNwXgVSqesH57HU5PwJJjczXlcQX-cJG0VuJzNegESxm9RNPUrWJbqzNuyfFgziZ/s1600/Nigredo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY5TYFXom-gSCN51iMqBIsUUizA8MHmJG_KaSzEIN3Dy9L9KUjF6EV-QUKrhNfKKGEYbJWEBHu2VOkBNwXgVSqesH57HU5PwJJjczXlcQX-cJG0VuJzNegESxm9RNPUrWJbqzNuyfFgziZ/s1600/Nigredo2.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You think Bowie had seen that alchemical illustration? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The blog has a new look. Lighter. Mercury is in Capricorn and Saturn is in Sagittarius. I remember several months ago listening to <a href="http://theastrologypodcast.com/" target="_blank">The Astrology Podcast</a> about what Saturn in Sagittarius meant. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Since January I have been on the move - getting stuff done. I feel more motivated and grounded than I have perhaps ever. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"Our black earth is fertile earth." The Black Work is over. It just really came to the forefront of my consciousness as I was changing the look of my blog. The process of Nigredo has been taking place over the last 3 years - actually much longer than that - a lifetime - but the heat was really applied in the last few years. I don't wish it on anyone, but if you are going to grow, you are going to have to face some serious schijt. Schijt nobody wants to ever have to face. Schijt you would do anything to not have to face. But there comes a time, eventually, sooner or later, when you have no choice in the matter. Saturn is the black star. Saturn oversees the process of death and decay. He watches closely, that all putrefies, and all corruption settles into the darkness of the earth, from whence new life can begin to grow. Those two little bird figures in the illustration are the dying man's soul and his spirit. They are outside of his body. Because he is dying, he has become aware of them. The crow is a symbol of the process of Nigredo. Blacker than black...<br /><br />New life. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am finally free from the oppressive Saturnian stuff that has been going down. Saturn has finally released me from my prison and my borders are in the process of being expanded. The past still hurts very much. They were extremely harsh lessons, but extremely valuable as well. In my new found freedom, I am finding that at times I enjoy a splash of color, a bit of music, even socialization. I am busy, busy, busy as a bee. I've been laying dead, and now that I'm out of that damned cooking pot, I have a lot to accomplish. Since January I've been building momentum, and I plan to keep it up, kicking arse in every aspect of life.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-58147632339949819292016-01-26T17:09:00.001-05:002016-01-26T17:11:44.186-05:00Mercury Direct in Capricorn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHX1iYY7DK7uuZUX1ov-atF7m-FbUveFzf4ms-OJVA7f6jRYLa2Zi6pcUSDcQl55ZWaOyKDAhrmjl5EJzs6UDu1XXaKSFs4FaNlMIZr6H315J4Mz62epA96kvDrAIAR0NOd99MLrZlotdt/s1600/01cartari165sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHX1iYY7DK7uuZUX1ov-atF7m-FbUveFzf4ms-OJVA7f6jRYLa2Zi6pcUSDcQl55ZWaOyKDAhrmjl5EJzs6UDu1XXaKSFs4FaNlMIZr6H315J4Mz62epA96kvDrAIAR0NOd99MLrZlotdt/s400/01cartari165sm.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This week Mercury's station is direct Capricorn - my sign.
It's so fascinating how things line up when you are awake and looking. Austin
Coppock just had <a href="http://austincoppock.com/astrology-january-extracting-the-stone/" target="_blank">that article</a> on Mercury as surgeon, exctracting the
"stone" which we need to be rid of, because it's infecting our system
in a radical way - radical meaning infecting every part.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I just got off the phone with the dentist's office and have
set up an appointment for 8AM tomorrow - I likely have a tooth infection. I
haven't been to the dentist in years, and now I can no longer ignore it. Just
got my Carecredit approved. It's scary as hell, but I'm looking forward to
finally addressing issues I should have long ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Things are being excised in other areas of my life as well.
It's not pleasant, but it's confronting issues that need to be confronted. Once
resolved, growth and new life can happen. It reminds me too of <a href="http://headforred.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-did-some-bad-magic.html" target="_blank">the blogpost</a>
from years back about RO having to clean up his spheres after having dealt with
the Cthonic. Man this isn't easy or fun, but what's worse is having to live
with corrupting forces affecting every aspect of your being.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-21380492628264269772016-01-26T02:39:00.001-05:002016-01-26T02:46:51.322-05:00A Stone For Saturn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3AjALrhitkfIxG4SBRW22BobTXZyHUMwCL4EJwyRyQMnSwQwvvejSE8xwKZjMMgZiLvtFuYuvOdMLcgOBLIXY-iuUK1RLw1ZzZO4sIepaluH-_swm7ZIadu52ZVRyvLQpJ44jzlCqTdtV/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3AjALrhitkfIxG4SBRW22BobTXZyHUMwCL4EJwyRyQMnSwQwvvejSE8xwKZjMMgZiLvtFuYuvOdMLcgOBLIXY-iuUK1RLw1ZzZO4sIepaluH-_swm7ZIadu52ZVRyvLQpJ44jzlCqTdtV/s320/Untitled.jpg" width="313" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvn7LjIB0R1vHA122JI0DekrT_ADP8Le1ioTdVhn9NvKLks9u5kgS0NJV2t8jTvCZGVc5jzNcg7VrbDAG_8C87wwi9I_TEitpf0lATn5jaV6LK51GLXrRo_rWq6WhAnWEH3OxbU4rq-RA/s1600/200711A47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvn7LjIB0R1vHA122JI0DekrT_ADP8Le1ioTdVhn9NvKLks9u5kgS0NJV2t8jTvCZGVc5jzNcg7VrbDAG_8C87wwi9I_TEitpf0lATn5jaV6LK51GLXrRo_rWq6WhAnWEH3OxbU4rq-RA/s400/200711A47.jpg" width="270" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm starting to even look like the old man. Kronos-Saturn ate his children. He was afraid of a prophecy that they would overtake him. This would be the reaping of justice for what Kronos had done to his father, but I digress. Rhea slipped Kronos a rock instead of their child Zeus. This got me thinking, in light of Austin Coppock's post, <a href="http://austincoppock.com/astrology-january-extracting-the-stone/" target="_blank">Extracting the Stone</a>.<br /><br />I've been planning a visit to the Spheres for around a year. As a Capricorn, I plan, and plan, and plan, and then plan some more before taking action. In Ashen Chassan's book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gateways-Through-Stone-Circle-Chassan/dp/0983063931" target="_blank">Gateways Through Stone and Circle</a>, the first Sphere visited is Binah. I had planned to follow suit, and issue my complaints of being devoured in every aspect of life. Upon a re-examination of the Kronos myth, I think that perhaps Fr. RO was onto something in his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seven-Spheres-Rufus-Opus/dp/B00R5E7PWA" target="_blank">Seven Spheres</a>, starting out to Chesed firstly. Literally loving kindness, gentleness, mercy.<br /><br />As I look back over the last three years, I realize I HAVE BEEN IN AN INITIATION within the Sphere of Binah. Total life crises at every turn. Complete lack of understanding in the life situations I found myself in. Trauma after trauma. I survived it. I'm no longer wallowing in my own misery. You just have to get over some of the schijt that happens to you in life, or it will kill you. Mourn it, and then you have to move on. Take it from Gatsby's life. She wasn't even worthy of him anyway. Poor bastard. SHE WASN'T WORTHY OF HIM! And look what he gets for all his effort. No sir. Get your arse out of the past. Pick one foot up and put it in front of the other. Or just lay down and die an overly-dramatic and agonizingly slow death filled with chemical dependence and complete and utter misery. Your choice. Nobody will make it for you.<br /><br />I'm not completely decided on my plan of action, but things are coming to a head quickly. I may stop by Binah and say, "Did you worst, and here I stand." That might not be wise though. I've spent the last year or so learning much, contacting a few spirits, and proving to them I'm not a drunken sot. Ancestor work really kicked things off for me in a big way, and I'm currently memorizing the Bornless Ritual. It would be nice to have K&C / HGA before I set out to the Spheres. I also have been doing tons of divination work with tarot and geomancy. I believe divination is so essential to any practice, as you are not so much in the dark.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-78709001182797252822016-01-25T03:51:00.000-05:002016-01-25T04:02:17.202-05:00Found: Spirit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've spent a lot of time looking for and gathering images for this post. I'm trying to induce a certain feeling:
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3F08-PXMY1geN3BuikBElkRGSDlVzDpnM2KcjBXBhQiZtGosULOXOe3RSUXCsiyGJ-mMjvRnD4uFWKqbYDxf-cyoqTevJrUn_z06gQRidX00SOjR2xHCRPXsOpdX2uy-o63V1wrmm7Yjx/s1600/2679502902_1489d95d28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3F08-PXMY1geN3BuikBElkRGSDlVzDpnM2KcjBXBhQiZtGosULOXOe3RSUXCsiyGJ-mMjvRnD4uFWKqbYDxf-cyoqTevJrUn_z06gQRidX00SOjR2xHCRPXsOpdX2uy-o63V1wrmm7Yjx/s640/2679502902_1489d95d28.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is a woman at a window, staring. She is very thin, seemingly starving or anorexic.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhb1tRV_N-jBaC0tPxWReNnjzgSV7rgGuGBH1fdPVCuK3gMPbT7TRJllDD7miOSbcI4P9hAn4IUSEUsSJ0xM5BZMiLh-SKRehyphenhyphentajYGQbbXKXAYKmUfrdrv6OUSzsrcUPZphN7-FvHm6p/s1600/bachrach-reese-1965-anorexic-woman-therapy-treatment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhb1tRV_N-jBaC0tPxWReNnjzgSV7rgGuGBH1fdPVCuK3gMPbT7TRJllDD7miOSbcI4P9hAn4IUSEUsSJ0xM5BZMiLh-SKRehyphenhyphentajYGQbbXKXAYKmUfrdrv6OUSzsrcUPZphN7-FvHm6p/s400/bachrach-reese-1965-anorexic-woman-therapy-treatment.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Her eyes are dead. You can tell that she has experienced so much pain. They call it the thousand yard stare. She has it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W3p6T-VDi7Rn7S9R26b1dRytHYISGSGp9GQQ9ipe9rJH3Imv3IR7HHy6fpU69ayHqj7FZdvtmISBPing7ih4mzVd1Khl58PY08wQfGYVG194FRoEjZ0c68qw7q6sMlX4vXHi7K5Kg-iI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W3p6T-VDi7Rn7S9R26b1dRytHYISGSGp9GQQ9ipe9rJH3Imv3IR7HHy6fpU69ayHqj7FZdvtmISBPing7ih4mzVd1Khl58PY08wQfGYVG194FRoEjZ0c68qw7q6sMlX4vXHi7K5Kg-iI/s1600/images.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnl1IHeEJySUQ353LrDfYdMTcMBSiuTN4fNHLCJK7NygWKGxJzLENqspyAlxdesYH47AZwRgXqcpAeZZ3TGU8JjZgERHeVJI0MkRfNmpjB-Ww9MJlW-ryr6VLFaTFqdF5VXsAGwugU5kC/s1600/2uyras2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnl1IHeEJySUQ353LrDfYdMTcMBSiuTN4fNHLCJK7NygWKGxJzLENqspyAlxdesYH47AZwRgXqcpAeZZ3TGU8JjZgERHeVJI0MkRfNmpjB-Ww9MJlW-ryr6VLFaTFqdF5VXsAGwugU5kC/s320/2uyras2.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOBjFAkozmsm-F0tRVyOj080CthkAjTc635HWgB1Q6uUFvfNDWj0FdBXBuSRc2Sj72gIayqWtSgKl8E3WnItPL0a_dd-HPbyjj1ocxay9AjKMjJnbi5KomlDOHaV384cMdWpBcajInZvDd/s1600/faebaa4bd1dacd969e1bda5550acf741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOBjFAkozmsm-F0tRVyOj080CthkAjTc635HWgB1Q6uUFvfNDWj0FdBXBuSRc2Sj72gIayqWtSgKl8E3WnItPL0a_dd-HPbyjj1ocxay9AjKMjJnbi5KomlDOHaV384cMdWpBcajInZvDd/s320/faebaa4bd1dacd969e1bda5550acf741.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She is the spirit of a dead woman that I had a vision of. She was inside, staring out a large window, which I was outside staring into. At first I wasn't aware she was there - I was just sort of in a trance, staring at the window. Slowly I became cognizant of looking into her eyes. One of her eyes was misaligned, looking off to the side a bit. Many people have this condition. It's called strabismus. The pictures of the soldiers are the only thing that comes close to what it was like looking into her eyes. She was extremely thin, and had short dark hair.<br /><br />For a month or two since that vision, I've been trying to work with her. I brought her coffee, tea, chocolate. I've come to call her Jenny. I suspect she came through my Echovox generation 1 one day. The only clearly human voice that I've ever heard come through that thing - very slowly and clearly a first name and a last name was given by a female. Jennifer something. Speaking so clearly and deliberately, as if giving her name to someone in some sort of important situation. It was a very specific tone. Dammit, I can't remember the last name - I wrote it down and have since lost the paper. It wasn't a common last name, and I'd remember it if I saw it, maybe.<br /><br />I had a friend do a tarot reading on this spirit. He first ask the nature of the spirit. He laid down the following:</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrg9l7kufs7yC8l6bx_AhqqmektIuh9EIax7KjHRO-2DifX4GAvoK9a7XgvtAmNtIYeNOAz9Z0dldHtL1ijH89IqAAB_HUWtegbdMKEBb0OS_JIJhAazc2PS-UAp5-WR2p5XUyO58rR6fk/s1600/V_QCups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrg9l7kufs7yC8l6bx_AhqqmektIuh9EIax7KjHRO-2DifX4GAvoK9a7XgvtAmNtIYeNOAz9Z0dldHtL1ijH89IqAAB_HUWtegbdMKEBb0OS_JIJhAazc2PS-UAp5-WR2p5XUyO58rR6fk/s400/V_QCups.jpg" width="246" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Queen of Cups</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Good natured, intuitive, imaginative, coquettish, kind, poetic. She is a water sign - Cancer, Scorpio or Pisces. These are naturally psychic (I'm not kidding - date one), which explains a bit our initial contact.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> 5 of Pentacles</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> From the Elora Tarot by Monika Lassner. The Smith-Waite card was strange enough - a church window - which is where I saw her. The meaning is poverty, isolation, insecurity, loss, worry, harshness, stern.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoyU5jbjM_6-Qumyv9qfiDxF7F0KQZHSR61r0v8hicacMt2ijrf6JSYPKcqZHSD0WNSE7NXwNqQeSTAWxzzkjoOSZt6-wSs920dMZ_dKW9DF6hcM0pmrk82fPbPWbIWN16vC-rq3N6VnD/s1600/58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoyU5jbjM_6-Qumyv9qfiDxF7F0KQZHSR61r0v8hicacMt2ijrf6JSYPKcqZHSD0WNSE7NXwNqQeSTAWxzzkjoOSZt6-wSs920dMZ_dKW9DF6hcM0pmrk82fPbPWbIWN16vC-rq3N6VnD/s320/58.jpg" width="185" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>9 of Swords</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">From the Fenestra Tarot. This is someone tormented. The idea here is faithfulness unto cruelty, oppression, misery, suffering, loss. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These cards together give you a pretty good idea of who she was. A gentle poetic soul who lived a burdensome and hard life, who was likely mistreated and persecuted. By the look in her eyes - I think we are talking some bad schijt that went down.<br /><br />My reader then asked her where she was - with me, or at my work, or just having passed through. He pulled the following card:</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNfHtBy7QRncPw4JfGAQQClJ9rgY4RLRhi2k_FbJNBIWWJaRcVnlaax-PLtKfFkRySDV4XD10cqS_JEHq4TM4kViRUfo7hBbHrQo0sWqG_xtUdqGvqrrzexuXdmkVMiifN0amcoHap6yw/s1600/5TheHierophantConnollyTarot_00051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNfHtBy7QRncPw4JfGAQQClJ9rgY4RLRhi2k_FbJNBIWWJaRcVnlaax-PLtKfFkRySDV4XD10cqS_JEHq4TM4kViRUfo7hBbHrQo0sWqG_xtUdqGvqrrzexuXdmkVMiifN0amcoHap6yw/s320/5TheHierophantConnollyTarot_00051.jpg" width="199" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Heirophant</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Religious institution. Obviously, the spirit is at my work, which is where she was in my vision of her - I had not told my reader this.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">So next my reader asked what I could do to contact the spirit or communicate with it:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3C3gWNfCFDMIoYUngJWW_ARHgLLTgi2bai4nzpmDgIZrA5xnvr06oASl8xjlQ2ykPb9HXDL7UWgCj9zXYV0Wwmo5IGqlb4h8DHq1Y4S56orkd6_IZlqByGboaH0FBWCs0LSMvvlXSpQU/s1600/il_570xN.475593334_n7jd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: x-large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3C3gWNfCFDMIoYUngJWW_ARHgLLTgi2bai4nzpmDgIZrA5xnvr06oASl8xjlQ2ykPb9HXDL7UWgCj9zXYV0Wwmo5IGqlb4h8DHq1Y4S56orkd6_IZlqByGboaH0FBWCs0LSMvvlXSpQU/s320/il_570xN.475593334_n7jd.jpg" width="255" /></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Strength</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">This is a painting by Emily Balivet. This speaks to a concerted effort. This card is sometimes called Lust or Fortitude or sometimes referred to as The Enchantress. It means a few things to me. Mainly the generation of what sometimes is referred to as "heat".</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Queen of Wands</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Within the context of the question, I think this painting represents the answer - gifts.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Lovers</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">All 3 of these cards - Strength, Queen of Wands, and The Lovers speak to motivation, inspiration and action, again here, the building of "heat".</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">So, after the tarot reading, I decided to do a geomantic divination in the place that she was in my vision. 3 of the 4 Mothers I threw were Via. On the last throw of the tumblers, I swear I could almost feel an arm on my arm, and they just like "stuck" to the table. Here are the results charted traditionally, as well as put to a more modern chart (that graphic took me forever):</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As you can see, the Left Witness, Right Witness and Judge are all exceptionally good. Even the Significator and Reconciler. I'll edit this post upon further interpretation of the other Houses.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-34095900490462219962016-01-23T19:48:00.003-05:002016-01-23T19:48:54.923-05:00Geomantic Guidelines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Remember what the Gnomes say:</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhLya8XrVFCUP4tyqTw9mIiAoEUrVdMR33owLWY-lEtapqXAFIv5zimdBaSWb-DzMWrOTKiv-Rk_zy_M3-LZAXTo0kZgrBzivim2nFP9S6_AICxOLz25J0g1ttkXlx3IazGZ8mduEhRux/s1600/Geomantic+Guide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhLya8XrVFCUP4tyqTw9mIiAoEUrVdMR33owLWY-lEtapqXAFIv5zimdBaSWb-DzMWrOTKiv-Rk_zy_M3-LZAXTo0kZgrBzivim2nFP9S6_AICxOLz25J0g1ttkXlx3IazGZ8mduEhRux/s640/Geomantic+Guide.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-33589768339277762182016-01-22T18:24:00.004-05:002016-01-22T18:24:41.518-05:00Geomancy & Digression on Liber A'Ash<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had a tarot reading done on this spirit before, and
pertaining to it's nature, Queen of Cups, 9 of Disks, 5 of Swords. Pertaining
to how to contact it, Lust, Queen of Wands, the Lovers. It's interesting to me
in the Geomantic divination, Aquisitio is the judge, which could be
"comprehending within". The astral, which is where I encountered her
in the first place, is where I should seek to converse with her. The
Significator, Puer - it's an erect penis. <br /><br />As an explanatory diversion in the vein of Tristram Shandy, I'm reminded of Liber A'Ash, which is
said to hold the secret of magical power. I too am reminded of quantum theory stuff - observation effects reality. If you are interested in science or magic, please listen to the following interview </span><span style="font-size: large;">with Howard Smith, senior astrophysicist at the Harvard-
Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and a senior
member of several teams with NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope:<br /></span></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AdifvCz4_bM" width="560"></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So back to my elucidation of Liber A'Ash... Key 15, The Devil, Ayin, Eye, Mirth. Saturn rules Capricorn, and Mars (The Tower) is exalted therein. Read the first few lines of <a href="http://hermetic.com/crowley/libers/lib370.html" target="_blank">Liber A'Ash</a>. <br /><br />This is the picture I get: The magician stands tall, full of secret mirth. The lightning of the heavens flash about him, serving to charge his will. What would crumble one of lesser ability, what would bring terror and dread, the magician, caught up in preternatural fits of cackling, uses as a vehicle. Up! Thou givest not thy sap, thy fallest not! I know very well what that energy feels like. I first experienced it in a dream, which I'm sure I have written down somewhere.... I was standing high on the outside ledge of an ancient stone building. There was a stone gargoyle. The skies darkened and the wind began to grow in strength. A tremendous storm was coming. Lighting began to flash. Some of the stone ledge began to crumble. I had goosebumps on my arms. The feeling was incredible, and can be likened to a sort of sexual energy. A sort of insane glee. Surely you have felt this feeling as well - perhaps as a child, running carelessly in a thunderstorm. This feeling - it's to be gathered up, focused through intent.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-60418762074648786812016-01-20T10:46:00.001-05:002016-01-20T10:46:10.226-05:00Skulls Are Evil - Erase Them<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some commentary on death and skulls:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know certain Christian fundamentalists who think skulls
are the epitome of evil. The thought of their own mortality is disturbing, and,
because good and evil are defined by feeeeeelings, anything that brings to mind
the fact that their life is fleeting, is labeled negative and to be avoided.
Nursing homes and hospitals are filled with fascinating people who have lived
full lives, with tremendous insights to share before they blast off - nobody
wants to visit though. It feeeeels icky and depressing (smells like piss too).
Comical irony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm very comforted by the thought that perpetual tax evasion
is a reality.You work until you are physically and mentally unprofitable and
unproductive, a walking anachronism, and then you are left to enjoy the last
few years of that in a desolate pasture somewhere. Death is the real
retirement. That's why skulls grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The string of celebrity deaths has had an interesting impact on culture, on social media. People seem to be shocked that death has the audacity to call. It's almost like people are offended by death. At the same time though, I see this as bringing a new and definitely Saturnian consciousness to the forefront. The future is death, for all of us; even Ray Kurzweil, the poor Jewish man. Just in a matter of a few short years, personal death comes. Is binging on Netflix how you really want to spend your time? Do you really want to give your life to that job you hate? Why are you here? Remember when you had creative ideas? Death can serve to remind you that you have been living as though you were dead. Go ahead and put up a memento mori to keep that in mind.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-89354944643229637342016-01-16T16:55:00.001-05:002016-01-16T16:55:15.348-05:00Nephesh in the Jungle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Reading in Rudd's Goetia. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Always the distinction between the magician and sorcerer.
Today the two have pretty much become synonymous terms, with the latter
denoting a more practical magic, applicable to everyday life; a magic
fulfilling basic needs as well as desires. Traditionally though, the
distinction was simple, was black and white - magicians were co-workers with the
divine; sorcerers had given themselves over to the infernal, and were its
unwitting tools. I think of Eliphas Levi talking about diseased creatures who have opened the void within themselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Look around. It's obvious who is
who, no matter the title they choose for themselves. You can observe those that
ooze a black ectoplasm of ego. Their motivations are simple: Feed the Nephesh.
Involving themselves in metaphysics has served to amplify their monstrous
nature. The older they become, the more obvious their nature. They have
devolved into creatures without compassion, irreverent, heartless, cruel, bitter. Not the wizened sage at all. You
know who they are. They are the world. They are it's problem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rising on the planes, past the postmodern war-torn fields of
Assiah—the overgrown garden of ego where "things are done to me, I'm a victim"—rising into Yetzirah, becoming aware of the subtle emanations of Briah and
Atziluth, how bizarre the world below becomes. People lost, without identity.
Wasting away in false forms; unhappy, unfulfilled, unaware. You can't save
them. You can't reach them. You can't make them understand. They come to resent
you. I am not a parent, but it must be an extraordinarily excruciating experience. And then, you come back down, and join with these people, again forgetting your own identity, caught up in the entrancing droning pandemonium of the machinery. You've brought back something precious though. A new consciousness. An awareness that this dismal existence is totally malleable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Something hit me hard yesterday - the last day of Mercury
Rx, 1.15.16. It put me in a fetal position. I was struck, but not defeated. I
rose again, did not wallow in the Kingdom of Ego, did not seek to lose myself
in addiction or behaviors that have an adverse and negative cumulative effect.
I've had enough of that. I don't have time for that. I have magic to do, a will to accomplish, things to manifest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No matter
how far we rise, how much we mature and grow, we are yet human. Our realm, our
home is Malkuth, and our Nephesh is dominant here. Once we begin to rise above, once
we become conscious that our animal desires are not our identity, we are called
to tame the beast. Give it something different, that requires an acquired taste. Bring it in from the jungle and into the palace for an exquisite liver-paste hors d'oeuvre.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-89734349397863344262016-01-11T13:57:00.001-05:002016-01-11T14:00:31.332-05:00Dream: Ex and Alarms<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHgGYKSS7EPFGjIhYOvuHmXj9J_tEgcEtVZ2J-fp_NO7QSaXrTgXE-1kU-uECzz7-EmT96kL7QJ2x2YOebnK5L8DSNw5HX8OzEDrTHHyux6jWiZg4C5JHK-l1ROmn0ypkgrGuIfSbNwaa/s1600/007gol31.thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHgGYKSS7EPFGjIhYOvuHmXj9J_tEgcEtVZ2J-fp_NO7QSaXrTgXE-1kU-uECzz7-EmT96kL7QJ2x2YOebnK5L8DSNw5HX8OzEDrTHHyux6jWiZg4C5JHK-l1ROmn0ypkgrGuIfSbNwaa/s400/007gol31.thumbnail.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was dreaming of being in an actual haunted house - one I grew up next to. Derek was there. I was with his family. He had bought hotdogs, which I was suppose to cook in the kitchen. I came into the living room with Derek, and there began to be occurrences of paranormal activity. A spirit was holding my head down to an ottoman. Derek and his family started to become alarmed. The hotdogs burned. I was embarrassed at the waste. Derek and I were going to leave and get more hotdogs.<br /><br />I was outside of the house, in the yard, looking over the church parking lot, towards my Uncle's house at the other end. This was the parsonage. My Uncle had been the preacher at the church. I was aware of my parents' presence. Suddenly an alarm went off. I could see the alarm from across the parking lot somehow. I left to go check on it.<br /><br />I next remember being back in the real haunted house I grew up next to. I was in bed with Bridget, my ex. My mom was in the next room, and perhaps the other people. She had closed the door, so as to not disturb Bridget and I. We were getting very sexy, and then for some reason, I had to get up and go outside.<br /><br />As I am coming back, I step up onto the porch. Bridget is inside waiting. I look at the wood on the doors, the porch floor. It's all been recently gone over with polyurethane. It hits me then, that Frankie, the guy Bridget left me TO GO BACK TO, has been here often, doing work for her. My attitude changes immediately. I realize that Bridget is just having a fun romp, for today. Tomorrow will be the continuance of her and Frankie's defective "relationship". She does not want what I want.<br /><br />As these things are going through my mind, I enter, and face her. She urges me to bed. I tell her no, and why. She becomes desperate. I say something like, "Look, there is no way I'm doing this, which is just for today." </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As a pause to reflect on the reality outside of the dream, I wanted tomorrow so badly. In actuality I still love Bridget. I'm a Capricorn. If people make it past my guarded walls - they are in. Capricorns can't just pick up and drop people like paperbacks in a used book store. I was angry that Bridget was this way - that her values were not mine. That I had accepted her and that she judged me as unacceptable. I had only dated her for 2 months, and I can't explain why I have such tremendously strong feelings about her. It's almost ridiculous. But as she told me, it is what it is. I had commented to a friend on this, and pondered if it could be a spiritual effect of something. His eyebrow lifted.<br /><br />Back to the dream: She was almost frantic with desperation. She REALLY WANTED ME TO GO INTO THAT BACK ROOM WITH HER, and to do so willingly - to give into her. I was about to turn and walk out of the door, when an alarm went off. This time it was real, and I awoke.<br /><br />I dream of the parsonage quite often. Anyone who had anything to do with the parsonage dreams about it quite often, even if it's been 40 years since they've been there. But the real haunted house on the other side of the church - I rarely dream about this house. The presence of the spirit in the house, the burnt hoddogs, the alarms. I think a spirit was posing as Bridget, and it was either testing me, or thought it could seduce me by parading as her. Many like to give dreams only a psychological interpretation or mystical. I see no reason to separate the two. This is an interesting astrological time to have such a dream. The New Moon in Capricorn is in a separating conjunction with Pluto. False seducer is a term that comes to mind. Low vibratory murmurings of cthonic Pluto. Danger, Will Robinson!!! Danger!!! Alarms! </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-57713871695559370322016-01-09T02:46:00.002-05:002016-01-09T02:46:45.407-05:00New Moon in Capricorn Pathworking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The New Moon falls on my birthday - January 10th. A New Moon in Capricorn Decan 2. There is a lot going on here astrologically - which I don't fully understand - but I do understand it a lot better than I had. I've been reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Principles-Practical-Natal-Astrology-Kevin/dp/0986559601" target="_blank">this book</a> by Kevin Burk. I also like to read the <a href="https://darkstarastrology.com/new-moon-january-2016/" target="_blank">Darkstar Astrology site</a>. <br /><br />I've already had Moon visitors preparing me for this - one particularly tall lanky fellow whose style was sort of steam-punk-amusement-park with anime hair. Lunar spirit. I drank Moonshine with them up in the Mountains, and got some Moon poetry, written long in the past by myself (but not really) and sung by myself and a female vocalist over a pickup truck's stereo (strange <a href="http://hodosholos.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-mighty-moon-is-out-where-mountains.html" target="_blank">dream</a>): </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Mighty Moon is out</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Where the Mountains end</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now this is really fascinating. I woke up with the tune on my lips, which reminds me of Vega in Lyra.... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Goats climb mountains. They climb them alone, and very meticulously. The Temple of Malkuth, my astral temple, happens to be on top of a mountain.<br /><br />This time of the New Moon, and those beautiful words I received speak volumes to me about what it is I must do. I know that magically I'm about to step out - to step out from where the Mountains end. I plan a pathworking on the night of January 10th to the Moon Temple.<br /><br />I'm very tempted to look up "Moon Temple Pathworking" - though I will not until I've done my own. I've already "accidently" been to the Temple of Geburah and written about that <a href="http://hodosholos.blogspot.com/2015/11/anger-and-spontaneous-projection-to.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I do know this: The Hebrew letter Tav is the key. The doorway to Yesod will be just beyond the two pillars in the Temple of Malkuth and will have a veil over it with the image upon it of the 21st trump. That is the doorway I must take to Yesod. Besides Lunar incense, I'll be checking <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Magicians-Tables-Stephen-Skinner/dp/0738711640" target="_blank">The Complete Magician's Tables</a> for other magical correspondences...<br /><br /><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-28767840612012263702016-01-08T00:43:00.001-05:002016-01-08T01:27:34.083-05:00All Attractive Blue Magick<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I had this vision of this blue devil guy. He was sitting upon a throne with a stern look on his face - just looking at me. He seemed.... bored? Was he waiting on me somehow?</span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br>It freaked me out at the time. Nearly every time a mental image - a vision pops in your head, it's a bit alarming. If you've had them, you know what I'm talking about. You aren't seeing it with your eyes, but what your "seeing" is super detailed, just as if you were seeing it with your eyes.<br><br>He had a very handsome face. Horns on the bald head. Blue. </span><span style="font-size: large;">The throne the blue devil guy sat on was plain - maybe made out of stone. </span><span style="font-size: large;">The next day, I just kept saying to myself, "He was a really handsome guy!". I kept wondering about the blue skin. He didn't seem elemental to me - I've had experiences with a male Sylph. That was much more disturbing, much more uncomfortable. It felt like I was in some sort of energetic field storm or something. </span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoRganuyvyAreH-69ATnUty756jE6s6zTBR_PGs3Lb3HTqBYd1HRXRBimTzOX51qJT1Tbz2DSzcuFpmfLB3-mz-ousYV0A19tY2R-fMmo6MgrnfKiDGLAIIeFjGhBXeVwa_O8QP08-utR/s1600/Murli_Manohar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoRganuyvyAreH-69ATnUty756jE6s6zTBR_PGs3Lb3HTqBYd1HRXRBimTzOX51qJT1Tbz2DSzcuFpmfLB3-mz-ousYV0A19tY2R-fMmo6MgrnfKiDGLAIIeFjGhBXeVwa_O8QP08-utR/s640/Murli_Manohar.jpg" width="502"></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br>I Googled about, and found a bit on Krishna and Rama. Lots of gods have blue skin - even Thoth with his blue ibis head. In the case of Krishna, one explanation was that he didn't have blue skin, but a blue aura. Krishna's name means dark blue - he is all attractive. Even those who wished to kill him, ended up just finding him irresistible. When he was a baby the assassin Poothana came to kill him and ended up falling in love with him. </span><span style="font-size: large;">This I find interesting, as with the blue devil guy, I just kept thinking how attractive he was - a creature of beauty, very masculine. </span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br>Anyone have a clue? I suspect something with Netzach - Yesod? Him looking bored, and the thought that the demonic forces "need directing" I find interesting.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-4955547035980635802016-01-02T03:36:00.001-05:002016-01-02T03:36:14.256-05:00Place of Sacrifice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPwdip0TtFl6K5NTX5eK-bThpTOr6oM-WjvKXvelRwVMytt5S7KLurpMjshRJgIAgIPwmFvtZ-vjvf4OLEY6yvJXisF2hJAz6g32MO640GbBu2mnUWaK_N8gda7A-YYqkposE1cZPOFMP/s1600/hawsbill.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPwdip0TtFl6K5NTX5eK-bThpTOr6oM-WjvKXvelRwVMytt5S7KLurpMjshRJgIAgIPwmFvtZ-vjvf4OLEY6yvJXisF2hJAz6g32MO640GbBu2mnUWaK_N8gda7A-YYqkposE1cZPOFMP/s640/hawsbill.jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="6mshd-0-0"><span data-text="true"><br /><br />There is a story I keep meaning to tell, yet keep forgetting to tell. This night, it comes to me again, as I sip catnip and chamomile tea. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="n8b2-0-0"><span data-text="true">I was very young, though old enough to go with my mother and father on hikes within our mountains. The Appalachian Mountains of Western North Carolina, home to the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians for centuries untold, where dense forests and rock formations as old as the Precambrian and early Paleozoic still cast their shadows. <br /><br />I wish that I had remembered to ask my father where we were hiking before he died. We were deep into the woods. I don't remember a trail. I was too young to even remember my parents reaction to what we came upon. I think I was the only one to approach it, to walk within it. I perhaps had come upon it myself, straying off from my parents and the trail. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="n8b2-0-0"><span data-text="true">I had come to a small cleared place in the dark wood. It was rectangular and perhaps 8x10, the size of an average room. Within the space the forest floor had been covered with bone. The ground crunched as I walked upon it, my eyes wide. The trees around the space all had various animal skulls nailed to them. I remember looking at what I guessed was a dog skull nailed to a tree. I remember thinking of the pain of all these animals. The fear.<br /><br />All these years later, I still wonder, what in the fuck did I stumble into? I never spoke about it with my parents that I remember.<br /><br /> <br /><br /></span></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-25852317124254349092015-12-31T03:00:00.001-05:002015-12-31T03:16:44.723-05:00Esoteric Origin Story - Aaron David<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EkMGAbKK-DMeagLGvDXc9pC57SMvf8VqCzMKEMl-qwOigT8GiPsk52ON7pITbBDgNcTNHverigsJAsCqdaWDGkuiDBSM5WmXmczVkkSkhtL5qPWWUR1VXHpxCTw82AV7ohsIyEotGGTb/s1600/occultorigins.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EkMGAbKK-DMeagLGvDXc9pC57SMvf8VqCzMKEMl-qwOigT8GiPsk52ON7pITbBDgNcTNHverigsJAsCqdaWDGkuiDBSM5WmXmczVkkSkhtL5qPWWUR1VXHpxCTw82AV7ohsIyEotGGTb/s320/occultorigins.GIF" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I always enjoy hearing my favorite authors and bloggers and podcasters tell how they got into esotericism. Here's my story, given at a time when nobody really cares, given I'm an unknown blazing dark star:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since I can remember I've had an interest in the mysterious - ghosts, UFOs, legends and lore. I ate it up with a spoon every chance I got. What I mean to describe though, is what pushed me into esoteric practice.<br /><br />When I was very young, I read a book called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Side-Evil-Johanna-Michaelsen/dp/0890813221" target="_blank">The Beautiful Side of Evil</a> by Johanna Michaelsen. This book blew my freaking mind. It had poltergeist activity, witches, gnomes, peyote, dracula, graveyards, theater demons, Mexican healers - man! - it was the most magical book I had ever read. About two-thirds in, Johanna finds Jesus and I got bored and never finished it. That book is probably what ignited my interest in hallucinogens. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the book, Johanna got involved with a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Silva-Mind-Control-Method/dp/0671739891/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1451547293&sr=1-1&keywords=silva+mind+control+method" target="_blank">Silva Mind Control</a> group. What she described sounded cool as hell to me, and I began the practice, which essentially was counting down from 100 while visualizing the numbers and going down an elevator. Then you reached the bottom, and you had a room with filing cabinet, and eventually you brought up 2 guides from the elevator. Johanna got stuck there looking at 2 bloody werewolves, but that's another story.<br /><br />Next comes a long interlude of marijuana, LSD and mushroom use, which propelled me into the inner-worlds, and isolated me from the outer world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometime in high school I found this exact book - the Silva Mind Control Method - at my aunt's house. I was in a Tae Kwon Do class, and the visualizations really helped me with sparring. That counting down practice also really helped me to calm my mind for sleep. I've always had trouble getting to sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pretty much nightly for years and years, I counted down from 100. During the day, I would count down from 10 and try to reach the same meditative state. <br /><br />The next thing that had quite the impact on me, was Carlos Castaneda. Those books blew my mind as well. I already had quite a bit of entheogenic experience - enough that I didn't care for any more. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiNMRgzSQvY&list=PLoc6uieiuWquL6otvfiFK5tAn97a9MebK&index=2" target="_blank">The Art of Dreaming</a> really got me interested in lucid dreaming and astral travel and such - which I had been doing since childhood, haphazardly. <br /><br />So, coming up to just around 2 or 3 years ago, that was it. No Wicca, no Buddhism, no Yoga, never saw The Craft, never watched Buffy. Oh... There was Magic the Gathering, and I guess you could count Pentecostalism and a mystical experience with glossolalia, but that's another story. The next thing to happen was that I became friends with Rufus Opus on social media, and he emailed me his Neo-Platonic Basics. That was the major catalyst, along with my marriage having failed, my father's death, and 3 more failed relationships. It was like the shamanic dismemberment....</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602574128560038781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6486742143776195163.post-7548252311458547322015-12-29T03:44:00.002-05:002015-12-29T03:51:38.207-05:00Love Is A Spell Unending<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>“A woman could want a man so much she might vomit in the
kitchen sink or cry so fiercely blood would form in the corners of her
eyes. She put her hand to her throat as though someone were strangling
her, but really she was choking on all that love she thought she’d
needed so badly. What had she thought, that love was a toy, something
easy and sweet, just to play with? Real love was dangerous, it got you
from inside and held on tight, and if you didn’t let go fast enough you
might be willing to do anything for it’s sake.”</i><br />
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~ Alice Hoffman, <i>Practical Magic</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As a child, I was quite sheltered. My parents were older, were religious. They never divorced. I was an only child. I lived in a fantasy world of ideal. I believed that one day I would marry the love of my life, and that we would remain together forever, bonded closer than any two people could hope to be. My heart was pure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I grew older, as I went to school, I became aware that life was not ideal. That other children were cruel. That adults were cruel. They lied. They were unhappy. They took joy from cruelty. I withdrew further into myself, to a place that they could not reach to hurt me. My quiet indifference to them and to their world seemed to inflame their loathing. I learned that teachers were not wise elders that could be trusted. They joined with great glee in my public scorning. I withdrew from trying at all. I had my secret place within myself from where I drew power. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I felt as if spirits were very close to me in my most troubled years. I could go to a secluded place, close my eyes, and feel that there were others all around me, who cared for me, who were watching out for me. The knowledge of this emboldened me. I was not alone. There were those who were on my side, who would fight for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />The same peculiarity that allowed me to be aware of these others - this sensitivity to the world - secluded me so much. Alcohol helped me to normalize. To not feel so much. I was an alcoholic for many years. Suppressing a nature that I was ashamed of. That I thought was weakness, worthy of mockery and ridicule. I managed to even forget who I was. I became callous, bitter, cynical. <br /><br />I met a girl. Julia. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She was by my side, always. I eventually stopped drinking. I began to seek who I was. I was still a drunk - a dry drunk. So isolated, so unhappy. But I had Julia by my side. Always. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In my heart - way deep down - I was still pure. I loved Julia. I didn't know how to express love. She left me. She didn't just leave. She absolutely destroyed that person. I remember at what moment he fell. He fell to his knees at her feet. She rejected him. It wasn't just rejection. He was betrayed, and cruelly so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The love that Miss Hoffman describes - I felt the twisted form of this. There could be no greater torture.<br /><br />What followed in the next 3 years were 3 relationships, each one somewhat a repeat of previous rejection, and with the 3rd, the previous betrayal. With each one, everything flooded back, raw, bleeding. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Would you die for love's sake? The danger in love, is that it may nail you to a cross and leave you there.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All has passed away, even I. The world that I use to withdraw into, is now the world I live in. One of solitude. Of quietness. I am again aware of the others. They again give me strength. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My heart bears the burden of loving those that chose not to love me. I can not not love them. I came to know them more intimately than I have ever known anyone else. I believe that the people who destroy love, who cause irreparable damage in others - they will one day come to the full knowledge and understanding of the severity of their actions, and the consequences that grew out from them. This makes me all the more sorrowful. I sometimes wonder if I will see my loves on the other side, and if they will finally understand. If they will once again be returned to innocence.<br /><br />That burden is heavy. Heavy enough for me to have stopped seeking for love from others. The others are cruel. They lie. Love is not a toy, nor something easy and sweat, nor is it just to play with. </span><br />
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