This month has been harsh on me. The poisoning that took me in Seattle has since returned twice, something that I ate retriggered it, I was out of it again yesterday. Passed out at Goodwill, and the good people told me I cannot lie there on a couch, because, this is America, you know.
I am going to be moving, again, in two days. I have to leave the current accommodations. They were a last-resort choice anyways, and the owner is an avid Christian. Many plans didn’t work out, as the First Rule of Travel states – ‘Things will go wrong.’ My next station is a Black People’s Community Farm in Southern Washington, simply because it was the only place available that I could afford, and also all the Oshun statues there promise this to be a much better place for practicing my magick.
I am probably not going to break even this month, for the first time in a year, but you know what? It doesn’t matter. The Dark Pilgrimage is what matters, and as we just settled with Lucifer, ‘This end when it ends’, not when I bail out, and I am not bailing out. I am no stranger to pain, despite the pretty pictures. And I want you to know that.
I feel so far removed from the existence of commoners anymore. Walking past their houses with garages filled with cars, bikes, boats, and RVs; this is what they use for travel and recreation, and here I am walking barefoot, with no home, no place to return to, watching all from another Plane of Existence. I find myself musing much more about the homeless, the gypsies, and the outlaws. People whose existence I did not even acknowledge before. I have since become one of them, and it is such a strange transfiguration – I wonder if I will ever come back.
💵 Support for my Dangerous Writing
Sear Giddess, you are such a beautiful person with an amazing life. This revelation find me shocked and I wish all the saranic blessing you possible and I wish I could hug you and kiss your beautiful feet as The Witch and Goddess of darkness. Hope I can do mire to help you and will stay listening to you.
May it please Satan to give you unprecedented success in these new locations, welcoming your formidable magic and esoteric know-how. I ask this through Lilith and Hekate in the name of Our Formidable Satan!
Thank you for your blessings!
This was written on my fifty sixth birthday. It really hits home for me which is the irony… I have been living on the road for almost seven years now. I can relate, associate with every facet, every word. It’s a constant every day never ending battle just to survive. I’m lucky in that I am reasonably intelligent, have obtained three degrees, and still healthy enough to work and support myself. I have accepted that I am a gypsie, nomad trash, a road dog. I sleep well at night, out in the streets. It was a slow process but I have let almost all of my possessions go. All that remains are my tools, books, and clothes along with the blessing of a twenty seven year friend that allows me to keep my things on his property. Another friend of twenty two years graciously allows me to use his address so I can have a drivers license, pay bills, have a bank account etcetera. I have no family, they are all gone, no children, no ex wives, no significant “other”. It’s me against the world all day every day. I fight the daily battle with the discipline of getting up every day at 5am and dragging my ass to work. I’m lucky in as much as I have mastered two skills that will always be in high demand. I can go anywhere and work, as long as there is work. I do not mean to seem self centered. I do mean to show that I can relate. I see the homeless, the vagabonds, the down trodden and I know there plight all to well. I have just enough self respect to not allow myself to hit rock bottom. I am a lot better off than many of the others out there. I think many of them have given up on themselves, given in to a system that eats people, alive. I think a lot of people invite an incredible amount of stupidity upon themselves and into their lives. Nothing is chance, everything happens for a reason, happens because of the effect of another action. I refuse to give in or throw in the towel, not as long as I am able to work. I have accepted that I will labor until I die just like my father and his father before him. This is the only logic I know. Keep moving, keep one step ahead. It is harder to hit a moving target than a static one. If I lose the ability to fend for myself I will do what most animals do, seek a place to lay down and tear the silver chord, in hiding from the shame of being unable to sustain life. I am too chicken shit to commit suicide and leave a mess for others to clean up but I have no fear of walking up in the mountains and sitting down to freeze to death. They say when you stop shivering you get warm all over and just fall asleep. I can deal with that. I have never been barefoot and walking but I have been damn close to it. I have been so very poor yet I swallowed my pride and asked for help until I found real help. Once on my feet again I repayed those who helped me and/or paid it forward by helping someone else in need. If I am lucky I may have twenty years left to live, I refuse to suffer or be miserable the rest of my days. Being this way is not all bad. There are positives along with the negatives… I’m insulated, no one is going to find me unless I want them to or allow them to find me. I get to camp out every night, boy is that an adventure sometimes. I don’t have to worry about being robbed or someone breaking into my home. No one can threaten my family, they don’t exist. I can come and go as I please, move on to another job or another area more interesting than where I have been. And finally, I have power through freedom. Real power. A man with nothing to lose can be the worst of enemies, can be… I have grown comfortable in this lifestyle. I “like” myself. I would not want to be anyone else. I would not trade places with anyone. I have never wanted fame or fortune. I have not ever suffered from greed, only need. I am most satisfied to know in my heart of hearts that I can do anything. Satisfied that I have the knowledge to make things happen, to create, to build. I can do anything as well as someone else. Perhaps even more so because I still care about my work. Most people give a lick and a promise, they do whatever it takes to get that money and get out the door whereas I do everything in my power and skill to create and do things that last and stand the test of time. While education only allows you to get into more intelligent trouble, knowledge is power. You are stronger coming out from your suffering, tempered by the fire of tribulation. You have thought about the chain of events that led you into your sufferings and if you are smart and learned your lesson you won’t go there again. When you stop learning you stop growing. This is the beginning of the end. This is the beginning of demise. The future can be hard to see however hindsight is always clear as a bell. But, there are situations that breed panic, hatred, ill will towards others. Humans are very predictable creatures. When you are unpredictable society considers you dangerous and perhaps even insane or psychotic. To me normal is boring, no fun. Most people can be expected to behave or react to any given situation. Therein lies the key, people and their reactions to the circumstances around them. There is an old story from long long ago. There is a little bird that tries too early to fly and falls from the nest. Unable to return to his home he tweets and tweets “help me help me. A bull walks by and asks the little birdie what’s the problem? Why are you making so much noise? The little birdie explains his dilemma and the bull replies “Ok, I’ll help you little birdie”. The bull turns his ass over the birdie and shits all over him covering him up in a massive pile and then walks away. Well unsatisfied the little birdie starts tweeting for help again even louder than before. A coyote hears the little birdie and walks over asks, just like the bull, “What’s the problem?” The birdie tells his problem to the coyote and the coyote replies “Well I’ll help you out birdie!” So then the coyote picks up the little birdie and “GULP”… swallows the birdie whole. Do you see the moral? Not everyone who shits on you is trying to harm you and not everyone who says they want to help you really wants to help. What really would help a lot of us is to have patience and wait until we are ready to learn to fly before hand.
I have no family, they are all gone, no children, no ex wives, no significant “other”. It’s me against the world all day every day.
– The Warlock’s Path.
You see me. I cannot and have not made any attempt to hide from you. When I do hide it is in plain site, in the best of places. Right under your nose.
I have known of my power since I tasted death. I bled to death internally at the age of 16. The surgeon and nurses left the operating room as did the anesthetist. No brain waves, no EKG pulses, flatlines on both monitors. I won’t go into what I experienced. It was for me and no one else. Besides, no one would believe me. My mother and father were allowed to come into the surgery room. At the time my mother was fifth in the chain of command at said hospital. She later told me my lips were moving as if I were trying to speak. I know now this was my soul resisting being forced back into this cesspool of existence. You can imagine what happened. She demanded they put more blood in me, demanded them to continue even though I had laid there for several minutes, long enough to be declared physically and clinically dead. The largest man you know of only has 14 pints of blood in his body. I was sixteen, did not even weigh 100 lbs and they put 9 pints back in me. It took me four long years to sort it all out in my head. I had to make many decisions about life and how I would live it. When I finally sorted out what had happened to me and my soul I realized I had not come back empty handed. I realized ” I have power, and I know where to get more.” I began to practice, to hone and sharpen my skill guided only by an inner voice. This voice was mine but it was not the same voice as my physical voice. It was my aged soul. I only practice my power, my magic when necessary, only when needed, only when there is no other way. Never ever from emotion or desire, never to “get one over” on someone or something. Never ever for personal gain. The two most prevelant aspects of my power have always been what we call today “stealth”, quite literally the power to become invisible. The second is having the ability to talk with the animals. There are good and bad animals just like there are good and bad people. The difference is, animals are real. People are so shallow, so fake. The animals almost always ask me the same thing… “You understand me, why don’t they?” The only answer I can give is “they don’t know”. I care, more, for the animals than I do most people. I’m at peace away from the populations, and most most happy in the wilderness. The forest feels like “home”.
Words ARE power and have a far greater effect, when spoken, than people realize. I have known the meaning of words like “abcadabra” and “magic” from time immortal.
I realize this forum is a blessing. I want to thank you with all my heart for giving to me a place to get these things out. These “things” are only the tip of the iceberg though. I feel comfortable in your shadow. I’ll close with a quote from Einstein…
“Man’s mind is bound only by the universe in which he lives.”
Toodle pip!
There is this international volunteer network called WWOOF for organic farms where you can stay and and eat in exchange for your labour, it’s a pretty cool system. One could survive just fine with very little money involved, hopping from one farm to the next. Good Luck on your journey!
I am familiar with the network and other elements of the old hippy system. It is really the hobo life, and it’s super rough. Few are willing to withstand it past their twenties. Thing is, you need more than food and shelter, to survive. The hippy communes are also in truth safe havens for people who do not have sufficient drive to succeed at society, kind of like a care house for the less able. Same could be said even about the pagan and poly etc. communities I’ve seen in Oregon… not terribly inspiring for a Left Hand Pather. By the way, that urban farm in Tacoma was still charging me $800 for the half of attic room with no doors for the month. I have given up on the Pacific North West. Las Vegas is the only place on the entire West Coast where it’s still sorta affordable, I mean that still means rents have doubled here in under 10 years…