No more excuses. I need to start tying up loose ends before I get caught and strangled by them. I reached out to [Merciful Mother] Mary and asked permission to enter Binah for a proper run across the Path of Daleth that she described as ascending the holy mountain to meet her husband. (She is, and she is not Mary, and there’s a lot that I understand that I am not willing to talk about in public.) I had made a half-hearted attempt the other day, and I deserved the standstill I was brought to.
But because reasons, I understand this is much more important than I understood at first, and if I am going to proceed with other important goals in my life, I needed to complete this one along the way.
I entered her sphere and admitted my intentions. She pointed out the things that were keeping me from taking advantage of my gifts and asked what allowed me the grace to continue. Continue reading “Another Knot in the Path”
After a long day, I laid down to go to sleep. I closed my eyes in comfort. And gurgled. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-01-15.01”
(Despite the date of posting, this happened the evening of November 11th, 2016. At the time, I was under a command not to speak or write of certain things until after the full moon on November 14th. It has taken me two days to write this up.)
Long nailed fingers tented in satisfaction before eyes the color of a clear spring sky, hiding the thin sealed smile of the master manipulator entity whom I called “Malphas”. I know he’s not the goetic demon, now, but after having been intentionally led to mistake him as such for so long means I still call him by that name even now. He has given me no other, and frankly, I’m not sure I would believe it anyway.
“Thank you for accepting my invitation for tea.” The small round table was set in a field full of flowering plants and weeds. Brilliant hued petals conspired with earthy fragrances to distract the mind from dwelling on the toxic leaves and poisoned barbs shivering stiffly under the gently sunless sky. I have been in this setting before. I know better than to wander away from the table.
“Thank you for offering it. It’s been a while since we last sat and chatted anyway. I’m glad to make a reconnection with you.” I never saw his hands leave his face, never saw his fingers so much as twitch, but in the space between breaths, he poured and served a strong smelling, faintly hued tea in small teacups decorated with the same flowers that surrounded us. Continue reading “A Deal with the Devil”
I sipped the tea and hoped to find the right words to say as it curled around my tongue. “It’s kinda hard to be excited for finding a scenario that fits the clues given, when you have already plainly admitted to feeding me false information before.”
Malphas tented his fingers before his face and subtly smiled. “Understandable.” Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2016-11-14.01”
Did I just make a deal with the Devil? My body had all the tells of shitte going down. My eyes registered morning light in my room, but I was not able to process it fully. My memory had a disturbing gap that was preceded by an even more disturbing action. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2016-11-12.01”
I was disembodied. More lazy cloud of smoke than anything substantial. Darkly being in a field of absolute darkness, I was enjoying being nothing until something even darker came and moved around me with feline grace.
I recognized the entity immediately. “… Malphas.” Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2016-02-21.01”
In much the same way the name I once called the Antler Crowned and Green Masked Figure by is not his name, so to are the markers and name I know a certain Broker of Information by, not his. Continue reading “A Thorn By Any Other Name…”
“Hello, Black Jack.”
Huh? I closed my eyes for five hot seconds and now there is a presence across my computer desk where the monitor (and behind it, the wall) should be.
“Malphas?” No one else calls me that but him… or an imposter. “Prove it.”, I demanded. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2015-11-28.01”
I was the proprietor of a small witchy/occult/woo supply store that had all the usual stuff you’d expect and some stuff you wouldn’t expect and some stuff that if you had to ask if I had it, I didn’t have it, but if you knew I had it, it was for sale as long as you could meet the price.
“50 milliliters of demon’s blood. Please.” Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2014-12-21.01”