She Owes Me, Satan Said

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I leaned into the darkness as the Prince spoke back to me from the tape recorder that I used to capture our last night chit chat. His voice – well, my voice really – turned quite serious when asked about my sister.

‘As to your sister, she will remain enslaved to me. She will eat up any lie that I tell her, any kind of promise. She will waste the remainder of her youth to serve me, to be mistreated. She owes me something, and this is her way to pay me back. You know exactly what it means. You have no power to influence that.’

‘Frankly, you will just give up on her, knowing that it all exists mostly as her fantasy only. I will let her believe whatever she wants to believe. I will have a life of my own. It’s been like this for a long time. She is unlikely to give up. It frankly doesn’t dawn on her that there are others. You will be able to obtain that which you desire.’

The twenty minutes flew by, and outside, the darkness have way to morning light meanwhile I was listening to the tape from last night ritual.

Could I see yourself playing the same role? Hell, no. I was given another script, because, apparently, I deserve it. I don’t owe things to Satan. My debts have been paid for, and on this path, everybody gets what they asked for, plus minus what they deserve.

This is good news for you and me.

Happy New Year 👋🕯

Keys to Ritual Magic

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Ingredients of powerful ceremonies that make them move mountains have been described by magicians and witches in oral lore passed down through generations. I will share what was taught to me, and walk you through all the steps of creating a powerful magical ritual, from choosing the most favorable timing, all the way down to ritualistic disposal of the remains of the spell.

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Play Sample & Download the Video

This course is a recorded authentic live session with input from students, a popular workshop that I hosted as a live session in 2022-2024. This live session was unique and won’t be repeated any more, but you can tap into the spirit with this video, and soak up the knowledge.

For individual guidance, book my consultation.

Diving Deep for Knowledge and Beauty

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In the depths of the Mediterranean Sea for 2,500 years lies the Statue of Medusa, discovered in the western region of the Libyan Sea, between Greece and Egypt. The complexity of its rescue lies in the fragility accumulated for millennia underwater; any vibration or manipulation, however mild, could cause irreparable damage when attempting to bring it to the surface.

This is a parable to many quests to attain the Secret Knowledge and possess the Forbidden Beauty — it will never move for us. It is simply ‘there’, and we must make our own perilous journey to retrieve it, to possess it, often just for a moment, for a man is not meant to live in those depths and survive lest he turns into a Monster.

Donations of any amount to my ministry are hugely appreciated.

Pick Your Gloves, Then Walk With Lilith

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Hearing the drums
Grabbing the sun
She dons her black gloves
You know what those are for
…
For destruction
There are two ways to destroy with Magick
First is by the Wild Force of Passionate Hatred
The second Dispassionate Like a Surgeon
In both cases you need Gloves
Just of a different sort
Leather or Latex?
Take your pick
Tell me your Fetish
Pick your Gloves
Then walk with Lilith

pulling The Devil’s Puppet Strings

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A new wave of Witches cursing the new president they disapprove of has flooded social media.

As I made an entire episode about this topic, I will not repeat the point made — I suggest you watch it if you haven’t — I will just say this: the intent is misguided because the puppet is not the source nor the cause or the problem. They are merely the Devil’s Spokesman, and the egotistic projections people make render their spells ineffective, effectively doing worse, I am afraid this is exactly what is fuelling the whole system of endless divide and conquer, in place.

Americans have devised a genius system of two parties, an illusion of choice while keeping the population permanently in false hopes or in anger.

That is my take on politics, I will also say if you don’t see this, ie. the puppet strings from the devil, then you are not an esotericist or occultist, ie. one who seeks secret knowledge.

Any magic wasted on American puppet theater is metaphysical cannon fodder and so are those who cast it — but let’s face it, just as with sharing any pictures of their work, they do it for the glory. Desire for attention and social acceptance seems to dominate the list of misguided motivations that become bloated vices that are keeping the people from search of the occult.

Eternal

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Religion speaks of eternal damnation
Poets they praise eternal love
I have come to the conclusion
They one and the same thing
When you love you are damned
The eternity part
Is where we get redemption
We take that love to create
Something that lasts

Opening The Warlock’s Heart

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People don’t know this, but I write poetry.

Poetry is the most difficult art form for me because it’s only born out of the most significant passions.

It is an Art for me, not a Craft. It cannot be ‘Mastered’. I cannot force myself to do it; rather, it flows on its own.

And that’s difficult to admit because as an Artist and a Magician, you want to be the Top, not the Bottom. You rely on your skill, and a certain mastery over this ability to cast compelling illusions.

You pride yourself in it.

Modeling, quite typically, is a Craft for me. It’s a skill set. I am good at it, photographers praise me. I can deliver a variety of looks, I shapeshift, I can become anything. For modeling is acting in 2D. It’s an Act. My Persona as a Model nearly always comes across as Dominant. It’s very public, and it’s made for the show. It loves the spotlight, unlike the Poet in me, who tries their darnest to never be seen.

Art doesn’t become art until it’s shared.

It was Lucifer who told me this. When hidden, it becomes a self-destructive self-indulgence. It’s a clear case of wasting the gift. It is a Sin. I haven’t written a poem in two years, there is a reason for it.

All my poetry was published on this website, but to my shame, I must admit I hid it at some point. I made it so that nobody would find it. This, of course, goes directly against the principles of Dangerous Writing, that I subscribe to, and more broadly, the Left-Hand Path. Go where Angels fear to thread.

So, allow me to fix this moral shortcoming.

I’ll throw in a little unpublished short story too, on a related topic and bare my rotten Warlock’s Heart for the Method’s own sake…

What is Good for You

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It´s not good for you. What is not good for you is forbidden.

Demolition Man, 1996

Whats good for your hole ain’t good for your soul.

TikTok

Do not consider painful that which is good for you.

Euripides

“Be my matchmaker, Chris,” I finally announced to my English teacher my request over the coffee table. “You know, just… Check out your clients for potential, for me. I am sure you got some that would be good for me.”

Chris started laughing as if I had just cracked the best joke of the whole show. 

“You mean good for you, or, good for your writing?”

Silence ensued.

“We can do both,” I contended.

“We can´t! They wouldn’t be the same person.”

More silence.

“You know I am not looking to settle down. I mean… just look at me. It’s fucking obvious.”

Christopher twisted his ring around his finger, then he looked at me, with a mixture of pity and surprise. Then he lustfully gazed at the bottle of rum which somehow, up to this point hadn’t existed on the table, or I had simply repressed it. My good friend teaches English, but that’s not what he does. He is an actor. He performs Shakespeare with a troupe, sometimes, an odd stunt for discount foreign production.

Among his troupe, he is notorious for another kind of performance, which he puts on a regular basis.

Whenever the ensemble celebrates premiere, he gets drunk. Pitch black. He remembers nothing, and those who retain memory, the next day don’t speak about it much. Sense of embarassment surrounds it. Chris goes around the people, whispering secret accusations of their sins to them, and sometimes, putting them on blast, loud for everyone.

That’s Lucifer. We both know it.

The actors pretend it’s something else, that he’s just being funny. As a student of the dark arts, I don’t have that luxury.

So I move my own glass towards him on the table, facing him. He fills them both to the brim. I toast him, saying, ‘In vino veritas!’ and he returns my wish in Latin, ‘In aqua sanitas!’ laughing, we get drunk. A hot sweat of shame envelops me, then tears. As we wobble back home in half embrace, I remember him blasting this TikTok meme, ‘What’s good for your hole, ain’t good for your soul,’ to which I responded even louder —

‘WHAT’S GOOD FOR MY HOLE IS GOOD FOR MY SOUL!’

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  1. Dear Priestess Anima, I have just listened to your video interview about Lilith and Satanic pacts. I think what you…

  4. I feel the same about poetry, it's something I can't force or even practice really, at least that's never how…