Im not from here, but I live in the deep, deep American South - basically the epitome of hostile environments to all things occult, magick, non-Baptist/evangelical, strange, mysterious, ancient or even obliquely related to the practices of indigenous peoples anywhere in the world. Which is strange to me, as haunted and Stygian as this place is.
I don’t like to say I practice black or white magick - like Entities themselves, working with them is beyond qualitative human language. Words are too limiting, they miss the scale, scope and living complexity of the work itself. That aside, I think people would characterize what I do as Black, or at least very dark grey. But I try to do “bad” things for “good” results. Sure I curse people - but not frivolously. The cruelest and most meaningful hex is the one that dooms a person to see themselves as they truly are - that is, if they deserve the mantle in the first place. And while it may torture the subject, it protects his or her would-be targets or victims, so the overall effect is beneficial. We are talking rapists, narcissists, users, etc. not the typical human doing typical human things. Well, I guess once I broke a students leg, but it was to protect him from a fate I saw VERY CLEARLY - he was going to rob a corner store/pawn shop with his friends and get shot by the police shortly after. His friends DID end up holding up a gas station a week later - he of course was not invited due to his injury. Black magic for good.
I’ve recently been meeting some nice entities, “demons” I guess. One made a traffic ticket disappear into the court system never to be seen again - yes, both the digital record and the paper ticket. I had mine but the court threw the case out - it would’ve had me fined big time then allowed the other guy, an insurance scammer, to take me to civil court.
Another, helped my boyfriend - very intelligent but a terrible test-taker - pass his medical licensing boards the first time. He also appeared to be, and filled me with his agonizing and ecstatic energy for a moment - it was incredible. I’ll probably post details elsewhere.
I’ve always been called “weird,” and feel like I was never a child even as a child. Fights in my house - usually a parent with either with me or my sister or both - meant flickering lights, stuff flying off shelves, bottles bursting etc. so it never seemed weird. All of us know when someone we love dies, all of us have dreams that aren’t dreams. My poor mom still lives in the shadow of her parents faith and thinks what she can do is “evil,” and it’s sad.
The Luciferian story is beautiful - it’s a story of fighting the power, standing up for the rights of yourself and others, for equality, and escaping traditions that enslave rather than uplift. I try to live that life everyday whether it means protests, graffiti, writing and publishing articles in political magazines, or helping workers to regain their power, voices and dignity. I am an Anarchist, a Witch, and an Art Criminal.