Being in a shoot-out with a man that started to go on a killing spree from seemingly one moment to the next. After having my right hand torn into shreds by the impact of a bullet that he was shooting at his daughter I was able to overpower him eventually. When inspecting the dead body I found a grimoire-like book. It was written in spanish, but not in coherent sentences but in words that had been pieced together randomly and without relation to another. From certain sentences I could see other sentences floating over the sheets; I couldn’t make out the language but the words had been written in spirals, with red letters. The spirals stood out to me the most and I think that they somehow activated the behaviour of the reader.
The father of the dead man was flipping through the pages briefly; he changed almost instantly and tried to attack the remnants of his family. I decided to take the book with me, to prevent any further damage. Sadly I can’t remember any of the sequences regarding the spanish words.
Approx 1 hour of spontanous out of body session. I could feel my entire body while walking around in my own bedroom; I could even feel the stitches and the bruised areas on my foot with each step. I stayed inside the house with that session because I didn’t want to risk to walk around in less forgiving areas with the injury. But I find it peculiar how my foot was feeling the pain and how it didn’t bring me back into my body; I could carefully check back with myself laying on the bed but I could also return to every other spot of the house. I haven’t meditated or prepared anything for that. Maybe my energetic body is confused over whats going on with my physical body.
While I am still in recovery from the surgery I was told that I wouldn’t be able to operate a car until well into December; therefore I asked my family to arrange the funeral of my great aunt and great uncle around one single week of December where I am not able to get to the funeral because I’d lack the designated driver (my partner), who is on a business trip in another country during that week. The burial place is several hours away from my home and there is no way I could make it in time with the little public transport infrastructure around this godforsaken place.
I might or might not have mentioned that my family consists mostly of absolute cunts and that I avoid them as much as I can for that reason.
So. Of course they pick the exact week for the funeral where I would not be able to attend; I wasn’t able to attend the funeral of my other great aunt this year because my parents decided to hide the date from me until very shortly before. They “forgot” to tell me. So this time I told them that this is not possible and that there should be a different week for the funeral to take place. My father (who hasn’t inherited the house of my great uncle, thats what you get for being an absolute cunt ) simply tells me that if I couldn’t attend its “unfortunate” but also that “it is what it is”. While using my name as a bait to get a hold of an eulogist who wouldn’t travel that far for a job if it wasn’t for me. Or my affiliation with the deceased.
They clearly want to keep me out of the loop; its not as if they haven’t stolen inheritance money from me before and I suspect that they are currently trying to weasel their way into whatever is written in my great uncles and aunts testaments.
Meanwhile I haven’t told them that my partner suddenly got the info that his super important business trip will be postponed until somewhere in January for some reason (some reason = I had a little thought implant session towards his employer, to see if I could broker some days from that trip towards myself).
I will not let myself be kept away from my own duty in this whole situation.
But I will “forget” to tell them that. Surprise and stuff.
If I had to strictly categorize it, with a gun to my head, I would probably answer something along the lines of dollarstore thaumaturgy and spirit work.
Honestly I have no fucking idea myself, though. I take something and see what it does
It seems very powerful and coming deep deep inside you. I am always impressed with what you can achieve with your magic and love particularly your style in your journaling
I think that - as little as I contribute by the means of experience or deep knowledge or meaningfulness, unlike many other people of this community - my rambling participation can serve as a tale of hope. If Pariah can do it, basically everyone else can. I think thats pretty neat.
Marking a half of a year of being sober. I would usually say “6 months” but rawdogging this reality for one half of an entire year sounds more impressive in my mind. In the meantime I had some experiences that could have easily pulled me back into the bottom of a bottle but I didn’t cave in one bit. I was a bit worried about soon to be expected festivities and its impact on my endurance but after basically speedrunning almost the entire “could lead to a relapse” Bingo card I feel very optimistic. I am actually looking forward to waking up the day after without the physical remnants
Thank you, Leraje. I don’t count the days anymore but every single one without that stuff is owed to your interference in the first place. This generational illness can fuck itself, mate.
My incisions threads came out the other day and the whole procedure has left me with an abysmally swollen and pain sensitive foot (imagine you’ve broken all of your toes at once and you’re in that bruising stage that slowly and very perceptibly slides into the healing phase, with your nerves and damaged capillaries all over the place and you get what I am currently experiencing). Its a PERFECT specimen for a healing experiment, so off we go.
This time I decided to use a candle as a “pain eating device”, programming myself to let the pain melt into the wax that gets eaten up by the flame slowly but steadily. I had a small vision about the “pain” in question, it was symbolized by an iron star with a pulsing red core in the middle. In my mind I was melting this little thing in the candle flame. The pain is still there but it is mixing with physical numbness that comes in tiny sparkly waves.
A quick card reading about the course of this healing: Tree, Clover and Key. Yummy. I will let the candle burn tomorrow as well, I think I won’t benefit from feeling less pain too much in terms of resting myself otherwise
Quick interim result for now: the blood flow of that foot got actually much better already. The pain feels more manageable and less intense. I will grumpily take it slow (holy fuck, some people actually live like that because they choose to, I am on the verge of going insane over the lack of exercise and daily activity )
A promising little start, lets serve the pain to that candle like a restaurant
A former friend is visiting me at my old home. I am fond of neither. I decide to be as polite as possible to her while explaining that I am not really up for anything as I need to take care of my wound. She wants to have a sleepover and I halfheartedly agree. Later that night I find myself laying on the couch; my former friend is straddling me and she looks down at me with this weird expression that I have never seen before on her face. I tell her to cut it out, that this is hurting me and that I am not in the mood for whatever she has planned. She grins down at me and mocks me in a very strange voice “Oh, it hurts?” She rams the tip of a scissor into my right thigh and she feels so damn heavy, like she is made out of stone. I grab a chair from nearby the couch and smash it into her face. She rolls off of me; I ram the leg of the chair in between her eyes with a sickening crunch. This creature still looks like my former friend but as it is laying dying there is paper white skin taking over her features, like she is transforming to a… worm?
I limp out of the living room and pass the kitchen; a dude that I don’t know is waiting there in the dark for me. The power went out in the meantime, as it always does in such scenarios. He pulls me into the dark kitchen and attacks me with a large knife; I let it stab into my left upper arm while a searing hot pain pulses through me. He relaxes his grip around the handle of the knife a little, so I grab the blade with my right hand, breathe away the pain and gain control over the knife. He is much taller than me but the movement makes him stumble forward; I slash his throat open and get as fast out of the room as possible. I doubt that both of them are truly dead. The lucid part of my brain suggests to set fire to the whole house and I do so with the touch of my hand. A wall catches fire while I limp out of the hallway into the dark of the night. Fire has always been an effective weapon against this weird darkness in my dreams. Something pulls me out of the dream. I can feel a dull ache in my upper arm and my thigh.
The pain has completely subsided sometime yesterday. It was so good that I could actually tolerate sleeping in my favourite position again, leading me to snooze in until well into the early noon. I haven’t slept that good since the surgery. I am tempted to move around more because of this but I know that this is not the most sensible thing to do. Pain eating candle + visualization: check.
The many forced interactions with them the last couple of weeks stirred up old traumas and wounds and I already made an agreement with myself that I will cut off contact completely when all of this is done. This time I don’t care at all about who is about to die next or what needs to be taken care of. I will only respond to my legal obligations in the most minimum way. I will also be more open about this in my current environment, because keeping it in the closet has led me into some very weird situations (for example we recently had a family day at my company and some coworkers tried to be very helpful with planning extra hotel rooms for my parents). I will not let this situation silence me from a point of shame or discomfort any longer.
I had nightmares the last couple of weeks for every single night, each one about a segment of where I suppose certain things from my internal conditioning come from. Its hard to look at and its painful to consciously pinpoint the exact moment where things went to shit again. I suppose that this nights dream was some sort of “final purge” in response to the flimsy bridge that got burned yesterday. In this nights dream I was puking up lots and lots of blood; it soaked my clothes, the furniture and the carpet, it made the ground slippery, it flooded down from the sink. I just let it go, without any hurry or panic, without trying to control it, without trying to keep it inside of me. For a few seconds I thought about how this is the blood I was letting for them for such a long time and they still always demanded more. Here you go, mate. Have all of it.
I remember that I was fighting against something that I can only describe as a black and all consuming fog. Its physical presence made whole realities and worlds disappear. I don’t recall why that was a bad thing in my mind or when I decided to pick up the fight. I don’t remember much details from that battle, either. I remember that I called on “letting the truth prevail over everything” at some point into a physical manifestation, but again: I miss the context completely. Someone used this situation and tried to wound me for their own benefit but they got pretty much bamboozled by their own hand and it was a satisfying thing to watch before I went unconscious from the battle.
In the next sequence I remember how I was moved on a floating stretcher through the tunnels of the Falak serpents. Leraje and four large sheperd-like dogs guided this strange expedition. I remember serpents coiling and moving along the tunnel walls, watching our every move. I didn’t feel fear or discomfort, I was simply tired and the muted underground setting was contributing to my need for a nap. Someone explained to me that this will be my place to get some rest and to restore my physical health - I was pretty much dented after this battle-, as per an agreement between Falak and ???
Yeah, pretty much ending the year on that note. Coming back to health. There are two things I am bad at: sitting still and having patience. I am currently training both of these muscles and I hate it. I have made some interesting observations in terms of external reactions to this, though. They are telling me a lot about the future that I want to have for myself and what might not be a part of it any longer.
Leraje has been manifesting very specific signs of his presence the last couple of weeks. “Here, you dense fuck. With name and everything”, just in case. Especially when my inner guilt towards my usual daily quota took over common sense and necessity. It made me feel valued and heard and maybe a little bit placated.
Also, I feel incredibly grateful for being able to spend my healing process (and complaining A LOT during it. I am an insufferable cunt when I am forced into selfcare stillness) with a super cool human(?)being. I think I would have lost my marbles a lil bit without their company, the last couple of weeks. Which makes me also grateful for how our paths have crossed for whatever reason. It doesn’t make sense but at this point I am okay with accepting that, among other things. If you’ll ever come across this:
Healing magick experiments for a respiratory infection with inflammation of the lung linings, as I refuse to not be my own spiritual surgeon. For science.
This time I won’t use this healing oil from Jerusalem on my body but as annointment for a candle; I want to see if it works as good with non-physical contact. It would make remote healing sessions a lot more easier for certain ailments
Before putting the candle to use I decided to energetically “remove” the infected pleura; for this I meditated on a place where I would put the nasty things into. In this case I decided on imagining an empty house that will become a vessel for especially the microbiological aspects of my illness. The house appeared to be only dimly lit inside, its darkness dominating even the air I am breathing. I decided to let this darkness help me with the removal of the infected tissue and therefore any microbes that could erode my healing chances. Spiritual antibiotics and antivirals, so to speak The darkness poured into my mouth, sweeping through my lungs and pulling the infected tissue out of my body; it disintegrated into black little particles, that got sucked into the walls of this building.
Now the actual healing working: annointing a candle with a mixture of healing oil, dried chamomile, dried anise, frankincense oil and eucalyptus oil, adding some drops of isotonic saline solution into the paste. I will note down any improvements or the lack thereof the next coming days. What got instantly better: the pressure and breathing pain stopped, leaving me with a slightly sore upper body. The fatigue faded, as well and I probably need to take care that I don’t jump around like a coked up squirrel because I feel too good.
Additional note: prior to this working I had a visit from Belial, who shared warm and dry energy (felt like navel area energy, if I’d had to translate it into human-like energy structures) with me, relieving a lot of unpleasant feelings so I could do the rest of the working myself. I haven’t spoken to him in years and the cause of his visit completely eludes me, but thank you for your help, big man.
Yesterday I had a very nice meditation drift-off. It felt as if my torso was floating, feather light, without any kind of struggle or ailment. I had no inner vision, but a voice telling me that my physical body would now connect to the energy of the “tree of life”. I don’t use the tree of life in any of my workings, so I would take that as the next best option: I am physically working with trees a lot and one of my latest rituals was about preparing sycamore seeds as protective plantation material for one of my forest areas the coming year. I would interprete this bit as some sort of remote grounding/energy exchange with a literal tree.
I had trouble with falling asleep, last night. My lungs felt super sore and sensitive. This morning I had a check up with my doc, X-rays came out clear, ultrasound came out clear, no lung sounds detected, unlike last week. He also kindly cracked two of my vertebrae back into place
The most important thing: I can FINALLY go back to sports. The first thing I did when I came back from the docs office: getting changed, rolling out the gym mat and stretched the heck out of my rusty limbs before I slowly picked up my push up routine. I felt such a big endorphine kick right after that, I had no idea about how miserable I was without exercise I just couldn’t wait til next year and physio, I needed to do just something that didn’t make me feel like an absolute stiff blob that starts to sweat from existing. Luckily walking on crutches preserved some of my arms strength that I cultivated from the last couple of months worth of exercise. Unluckily walking on crutches fucked my spine up good, I need to fix a lot of posture issues.In other words, though
Ajna sessions yesterday, I had the sensation of carrying some sort of barcode scanner inside my forehead. It made no little “beep” sounds but anytime I looked at something with my inner eye I had two blue light beams “scanning” the surface of whatever popped up. It made me feel the respective object, but it only worked if that object stood still. For example I could feel Lerajes hand and its details inside my forehead when it was simply displayed; as soon as its fingered started to move the scanning process didn’t work. When I opened my eyes I could see very thin silvery-white energetic strings connecting different points across the entire altar place before it faded.
Dream log:
I accepted a very dark green (or washed out black) piece of cloth from a peculiar clothing item of a historical person; I felt a bit disappointed because I personally don’t like this person or their decisions/trail of thoughts at all
I suppose its some kind of parable about how someones profound core messages can be buried underneath their own ego.
Cultivating and refining myself (= language, re-learning a music instrument, fitness, slow theoretical preparation for my hunting license although I missed the ENTIRE autumn/winter hunting season in 2023 due to my surgery thank you very much, taking over new responsibilities at my job), negotiating interpersonal relationships and their role for my life in the future, exercising magickal muscles into tangible things yet again, watching global and local things unfold with a mixture of worry and morbid curiosity and picking up the opportunity to single-handedly punch a local phenomena right into the teeth as a proper new year resulotion, stopping its rotten influence as a proof of my own ability first and foremost and maybe a little bit out of care for my environment as second best reason. I’m not bored by any means. Did I mention that one of my more urgent received messages to myself includes rebirth all over again? Fuck it, I’ll do it too on top of just everything. Still sober, mind you.
Oddly fitting how Leraje casually throws a tutorial about lever action rifles into that bubbly soup. “Maybe you are a shit instructor” I told him last night in my dream when I fumbled with reloading the ammo and when I fumbled with the lever and when I fumbled with focusing on the target because it felt “off” somehow. I looked it all up today. He wasn’t a shit instructor, he was right to a T and now I learned something new.
Leraje, you are not a shit instructor.
Also thank you for that thing the other day; its simply not the right circumstances, no matter how much my corny heart wants to tell me and the world otherwise. I find your taste in timing very macabre, though. That specific day was pure emotional damage on top.
) simply tells me that if I couldn’t attend its “unfortunate” but also that “it is what it is”. While using my name as a bait to get a hold of an eulogist who wouldn’t travel that far for a job if it wasn’t for me. Or my affiliation with the deceased.
- my rambling participation can serve as a tale of hope. If Pariah can do it, basically everyone else can. I think thats pretty neat.
)
I just couldn’t wait til next year and physio, I needed to do just something that didn’t make me feel like an absolute stiff blob that starts to sweat from existing. Luckily walking on crutches preserved some of my arms strength that I cultivated from the last couple of months worth of exercise. Unluckily walking on crutches fucked my spine up good, I need to fix a lot of posture issues.In other words, though