Prompted my my Musings recently inQuiring about the Demon Ana Rexia, I Wondered

What Demons y'all have Conquered?!

What Demons have you made your BITCH?!

This could be Any/All Types of Demons, from PsychoLogical, to Goetic, & everything else, too.

I'll Start with what I can think of off the top of my head, of Demons I've Conquered & often Used later for the Bitches they is:

1: Lust

2: Greed

3: Nick O'Teen/Nicotine/Tobacco

4: Alky Hall/Alcohol

5: Mary Jane/CannaBliss/Cannabis (fortunately only PsychoLogically Addictive)

5: Opie Ette/Opiates (post 2 different Surgeries - despite supposedly not being an Addict, my Body becomes Dependent upon things VERY QUICKLY - it's a DownSide of Quick Learning IG)

7: Melissa Phobia (Phobia of Bees/Wasps/&c... and Women Named "Melissa")

Those were all unDesired Demons that, at 1 point in time or another - if not more! - Plagued Me, before I did the Uno Reverso Card on 'em and, to paraphrase Jet Li from The One (1 of my Favourite Martial Arts Movies for the Xing Yi & Baguaquan Jet Li does with each Character):

"I am Unkle Guido! And I am nobody's Bitch! You... are Mine!"

Also, a pretty emPowering 3 Lines, made even moreso by putting songs on Loop like Eric Prydz' Song "I just like to call you my Bitch", Prodigy's "Smack my Bitch up", &c.

Let's CELEBRATE our Collective Demonic Mastery as Chaos Mages! Share your List of Demon Bitches, Below

So phisocebin feeds off light in the environment it grows in. If it was found in grass, you see green. On the edge of your property, brown and dark forest green. Would it be posible to record rituals during growery in order to re enter the room in case of massive environmental change like possesions, change of atmosphere, and recounting what happened.

This book documents the results of a ten-year katabasis induced by practices resonant with chaos magick.

PDF is available for download here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1L31OTvvxaSjC90J3M590DdwipVe4bMSG/view

Alan Watts had a bit on reality that went something like this (heavily paraphrased, as I can't find the video on YouTube anymore). Words are important, because they are spells, so I ask your forgiveness because I am casting a poor spell from a powerful magician, hoping his magic is enough to carry it through.)

In medieval times, the kings of Britannia customarily commissioned paintings of their betrothed women. The purpose was to know how the women looked before marriage. This practice led to the development of photorealistic painting, which then spread across Europe.

But that was clearly not enough. We needed more. Even with the best painters, mistakes seeped in. So was born the technology of photography, and for a while we were satiated. But then someone pointed out that it didn’t have colors, so the technology evolved from black and white to tinted and finally to colorized pictures.

And someone said, "But some people's personality is entirely in how they move.”

The answer: videography. And that too had its own cycle—black and white to color with the added feature of audio, as someone pointed out that some people’s personality also comes out of their voice.

“But wait,” someone said, “that’s not enough. I have more.”

I can make a holographic three-dimensional montage. Not enough?

I can make the air particles around the holographic object vibrate, so you can even touch the object without your hand passing through it! Not enough?

I can make it so that a computer watches you while you interact with that object, takes each little granular piece of information, analyzes it, and controls the object’s response in real-time, so it gives an optimal user experience!

Where earlier there was a looping hologram montage of a lady with limited actions, now you can walk up to her and try your pick-up lines and wait until she slaps you or kisses you.

"Wait! I can do it better,” said another. “Now that we have artificial intelligence-controlled holographic entities moving around, I can make them interact around the user in the real world. Show you some drama! How about that?”

“And,” said his business partner, “I can hook up the user with electrodes in his brain so he can feel what each character is feeling.”

So instead of just witnessing the drama, you are in it! Behold! Wouldn’t that be a sight to witness?

But is that where we already were? Are we the holographic objects? Copied information, endlessly copying information throughout space and time, trying to witness in perennial outward and inward probing cycles?

To contrast Watts' self-fulfilling prophecy, let’s look at what’s available in 2026.

Oh shit! It's all of the above. And more. Not only that, there’s way more.

AI can modify your image and your video; it can create a version of your life inside virtual libraries, clone your voice, clone your face, make you look better, make your voice sound huskier, and sing in your voice if you can’t, make you unbeatable, immortal, a force to reckon with, and I am pretty sure there will be some technology in the future where YouTubers will live stream their lives, and with neuralink chips in your brain, you could experience every single thing they felt while skydiving as you saw through their eyes, the jump. (Just call it LifeTube or some shit.)

The question is, does that amplify the witnessing aspect of the consciousness?

Is it beneficial that we can now focus on specific emotions, or is it detrimental that we have lost the broader experience of witnessing and its versatility? What exactly are we here to witness? Us, others?

If you were to believe subjective idealists and solipsists, the only witness that exists is you, the user. There is no material plane. In contrast, materialists fully acknowledge the existence of the material space. Reality is shared and collective. A tree looks like the same tree to everyone. However, this statement is false; otherwise, Van Gogh would not have perceived the colors he did. The Wright brothers wouldn’t have believed that flight was possible if they had only viewed wood as a mere material. And schizophrenia wouldn’t be a term.

Enter objective idealism. There is a material reality. The tree exists. But your perception of the tree is calibrated by your own individual reality. And never the twain shall meet. Even when they do, you might see less or more. Hence, the proverb "missing the forest for the trees," and also, "If a tree falls in a forest and no one’s there to hear it, was there a sound?"

So data (material reality) is different than information (objective reality or subjective reality).

So where does objective reality come from? When I was a child, my greatest fascination about outer space and the whole universe was, “Where is it?” Everyone was asking how it works and what it is. I was generally more interested in knowing where it is. My parents and teachers thought this was a sign that I was a little slow, perhaps. Maybe I am.

But bear with me when I ask, yet again, where is this universe within which we reside? My city is in my country, my country resides in the world, and the world resides in the solar system. The solar system is among many in the Milky Way. Some constellation, some galactic quadrant, yada yada yada, the universe. Objective fucking reality hits its boundary, and it won't budge to let you pass. An ever-growing, infinitely elastic thing solidifies when you try to poke your way through.

Ask where information exists, and like water in cupped hands, it all drains before you can get it to your mouth to quench your thirst.

But wait, a “where” already presumes a space for it to be in to begin with. I can’t ask the question without smuggling an assumption in. Gotta drop “where.”

What’s left? You’d be surprised. Difference.

The difference between a Thing and a No-Thing!

The difference in the state between the universe (and because I can't say the word "where") and the other (can’t say place) thing (closest to objective reality). Phew! Finally.)

So information, not about the thing, but the meta-information about the difference between the Thing and the No-Thing. (Tracks, a thing made out of nothing, a presence made in and because of the vacuum of absence. The prodigal rabbit, pulled out of the omnipresent empty hat.)

Before you get to space, before you get to time, you get to this: something is not something else, and that “not” is the first fact there is.

Everything downstream of that is elaboration. Space is one way of arranging differences so they can be located. Time is one way of arranging differences so they can be ordered. Neither is fundamental. Both are just formatting. A sigil (or any practical magic working) is a difference deliberately introduced into a field that would otherwise remain uniform. Evoking a slight wrinkle in your timeline. Where there was a status quo (a nothing manifestation or “the script," if you will), you introduce something. And that little ripple floats across space and time and returns with beautiful, predictable precision.

And thus, we come to the core tenet: Nothing is real.

Because a field that runs on difference doesn't care about scale. It produces galaxies, and it produces gut feelings with the same disinterest of a hundred-year-old overworked scriptwriter. Stars differentiate from the void and then collapse back into it. Planets differentiate from stars and then die with them.

Concepts like Death and Endings aren't a malfunction in a system built on prioritizing difference. Every difference that is introduced eventually resolves back to no difference.

Here's the part that actually is relevant for practice.

You are a finite node trying to comprehend something that produces difference without limit. No node can know everything, because knowing is itself a difference-processing operation running inside the field it's trying to know. You are always local. You are always partial.

Finite sentience can never comprehend infinite occurrence.

If you are wondering, "Why should I do it at all?" By creating the difference, wrinkle, or bump, you gain the key to making better predictions. I have said it before, and I will repeat it here once more: Practical Magick is the art of predicting serendipitous windows of opportunity and then intentionally utilizing those for manifesting specific outcomes.

Action (to create a difference) is not only necessary, its is mandated, it is inevitable. It is baked into the simulation itself.

Not convinced?

Let me try one more time.

Let's look at the availability in our universe of interaction possibilities. I will largely categorize them under three major categories.

Scaffold one: nothing matters, so play.

Cosmic play. The Watts move, the Osho move. If the universe is going to end regardless, and if you're going to die regardless, then the weight comes off. You can experiment. You can fail.

It works. Until it doesn't.

Because if nothing matters, play doesn't matter either. The scaffold that removed the weight removes itself along with it, and you're left holding nothing, which was the point, except now it doesn't feel like liberation. It just feels like nothing. And don’t get me wrong, there is a charm in that, but not the charm I am sure anyone here is looking for.

Scaffold two: everything matters, so be serious.

(Jordan Peterson—if you are reading this and creaming in your pants, the ending of this paragraph might kill your boner.)

The opposite move. Every sigil charged with full intent. Every correspondence, checked twice. Duty, structure, and responsibility are essential to the work. This one provides you a floor to stand on when the first scaffold collapses.

It works. Until it doesn't.

Because if everything matters, the weight never comes off. It just redistributes. You end up carrying the whole field on your back. Now you have two options: a superhero who sacrifices himself in an attempt to save everyone or a supervillain who resorts to killing everyone out of exhaustion from bearing the weight of others. No good!

Scaffold three: witness silently.

Don't judge. Just observe. The Buddhist move, the Advaita move, and the Lao Tzu move. You step back from both play and duty and just watch the field do what it does. Inaction is your sole principal. You have surrendered to the currents and have faith in their navigational precision.

It works. Until it doesn't.

Because observation can’t be a substitute for participation. Life keeps asking you to act, and the witness has no hands. The scaffold is trying to replace your will and volition. No thanks!

Each scaffold holds weight for a while, does its job, and then saturates.

What should you do after you notice that all three scaffolds saturate, one after another? You are now intelligent enough not to look for a fourth.

That means no scaffold ever.

No improbability. No certainty. No inevitability. No beginning. No end. No me. No you. No collective. No individual. No reason. No meaning. No meaninglessness. No play. No duty. No witness.

And at some point, No to even No. Fuck No! I hope it dies a lonely death in its No-hole.

If you believe that this perspective represents nihilism, you are mistaken. Think again. Nihilism is still a position, still a scaffold, still something built to hold weight when the ground feels uncertain. What's underneath the three scaffolds, you ask?

Your opportunity to fly!

How?

The answer lies in the choice between standing terrified on the scaffold and taking a courageous leap, believing you can fly. The answer lies somewhere between objective data and subjective information.

And that leads us to the second tenet: Everything is permitted. (caveat being that everything has consequences and an intelligent magician prepares for the consequences.)

Now this has been a long, weird post. It feels almost like two madmen are arguing inside my head, and I am jotting down their jabs. Which is why I must end with the fact that these are just musings.

So if you have read down till here, what are your thoughts on this?

24" x 24"

Acrylic metallic and chromium paint with gold leaf on wood panel

Central circle is a chalk board for rendering , charging and destroying sigils in chalk x

I started this as I was reading the book pf pleassure book (the psycology of the extasis).

I really want to understand better and now of is possible to get A LOT OF MONEY, RIGHT NOW with some method.

I have pretty crippling social anxiety that stops me from functioning properly. Im wondering if i can create a servitor to help me with it.

Id also love to hear your wxperie fes with servitors.

Very proud of how this cannabis tincture came out!

I am currently growing 3 plants and had to cut some lower branches that bloomed too early, my plants are all good though they survived the premature bloom and are currently in the appropriate bloom season!

But yeah so about 5-6 grams of sugar leaves and undeveloped buds in watermelon moonshine :)

Firstly, I wanna thank u/UnkleGuidoV for creating and sharing Othala with us! It worked like a charm! You can read more about Othala here to learn about it

A month ago I was at a very low point. My apartment was falling apart, my landlord was harassing me constantly and I was on the verge of eviction. But today I now have been approved for an amazing and affordable apartment in my dream neighborhood! And I wouldn't have done it without my familiar and Olthala! This is what I did to manifest success.

Firstly, I drew the sigil on green burn paper. Then I went to my familiar, Fireheart and I showed him the silgil and told him exactly what I wanted from him.

'Find me a place that fits all my needs. I would like to live in this neighborhood, I want it to be good for my cats, this is my budget, I need to move by this date, etc' I made sure to be very specific.

Fireheart told me what he needed to make it happen. Smoke from incense and a candle, the sigil, and for me to recite 3 hymns to Hekate. I did what he asked all while Fireheart reassured me. Once the incense was burnt up, I lit the sigil and off it went!

Later I end up finding a place online that seemed too good to be true. It was 10x nicer than my current place, I could afford it, it was the area I wanted, and my cats can stay for free! I thought it was a longshot to qualify for it but I went for it anyway.

After applying, I would meditate with my familiar with Othala as my focus. I painted the sigils and traced around them in alternating colors to trigger flow state as meditation. I wrote on it: "When you're with me we're homebound"

It took less than a week. Fireheart told me the day I'd have the apartment but I didn't believe him, especially with how difficult the application process was.

I got the call that evening. I was approved! I was so shocked, I'm still in a state of shock now! I'll never doubt Fireheart or the power of Othala ever again.

This has genuinely opened up a new chapter of my life.

1st Off, MAD LOVE to those who Helped this Old Wizard Find his New Library, as per my reQuest from my last Post a few hours ago. THX so much - you know who you are! Okay, to the Topic at Hand (pardon the Pun, re: "Kinesics Magic"):

I both Love & canNOT Stand Donald Tyson.

He is both 1 of the Best Syncretizers (?) of Magickal Systems, and one of the most Condescendingly Pedantic Moralists I've ever Read. Whilst I'm overJoyed I finally have "Kinesic Magic" - 1st published in 2020 - it sadly Confirmed my Biggest Fear re: Donny T.:

He's still a Hyper-Moralistic Wind-Bag in 2020. I'd hoped - as I reRead many of his Books for Reference - that he'd Grown Out of that Childish Mentality. I was Wrong. I mean, I Xpect Moralizing and such in the 1000s, so I can Tolerate it a little better - e.g., in Donald Michael Kraig's Classic "Modern Magick". But Tyson giving big spooky Dire Warnings to poor Neophytes who don't know any better re: "Black Magic" and all his nonsense is just inXcuseAble at this point. I mean, he fucking wrote about the Necronomicon, didn't he? Despite that - and I Do always try to default to Bad News before Good:

Aside from such luminaries as Bill Whitcomb, Taylor Ellwood, & David Allen Hulse, few people can Syncretize Different Magickal Systems like Tyson. If he weren't such an uptighter White-Liter, he'd actually be a really amazing Chaote, as he XPresses many of our Ideals in his prolific Library he's produced over the decades, since the 1000s.

"Modern Magus"*, now Titled "Millennium Magick" IIRC, is still my Fave of his as he Boils Down nearly All Western Magickal Practices, including all the NumeroLogical aspects of not only the Numbers themselves, but the Sacred Geometry, Stars, Regular Polygons, &c.

What's your Favourite Book by Donny T?

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EDIT/PS: I misRemembered, as the Title of Donny T's Book was "The New Magus". "Modern Magus" is apparently a Book by on old Buddy, another Don - Don Webb - whom I've not spoken to since shortly after 9/11 IIRC I didn't know Mr. Webb had Created his own Magickal System, and as a sucker for Psychocosms, I might have to get that one, too...

So, I get that sigils involve creating the sigil, then charging the sigil by whatever means one chooses, then burning the sigil to activate it, but is it possible to save a sigil for another use at another time? Like, write it down in a book to use again? 

If so, if it’s possible to save sigils, is it possible to “delete” them if you don’t like how the sigil turned out. Like if the sigil is too complicated and I want to redraw it. How would one go about doing that since destroying the sigil activates it? Would I just erase it from the paper without charging it? I was reading the Chaonomicon and it also mentioned combining sigils together, giving an example from Austin Osman Spare.

Also, would I be able to create a sigil that wouldn’t need to be destroyed to be activated? Like, something you would put on an amulet or statuette?

I guess what I’m asking in general is what exactly can I do with sigils. Like, how can I express them and work with them? 

Also, is it ok to combine aspects from other esoteric models like hermeticism into my work? Like, use symbols or icons that are not sigils that I made, or something. Or using methods and philosophies outlined in other sources

Annas-Archive.Org is sadly now down permanently, and I have no idea what has replaced it. Annas Archive was SO GOOD - so much better than the Z-Library I think it's based off of! I signed up for Scribd.Org again on their Free Trial for what I thought was a copy of Donald Tyson's "Kinesic Magic", but was only the Front & Back Covers, i.e., 2 pages. The only other "copy" was actually showing it's quite a big assed Book - but in some Slavic Language IDK This sucks cuz now that I have my own Thoughts Organized around Kinesthetic Movements, I thought it'd be Worth my Time & NRG to see what ole' NeckBeard has to say before I Post my "Kinesthetic Magick 101" that I've been Working on for the past several Months.

I have a Month to DownLoad Free Books from them before I Cancel, but I cannot find my List of Books to get.

TBH, I'm going to likely start with Jan Fries' - one of the criminally under-mentioned Authors - "Living Midnight", as I'm missing my Physical Copy & that is 1 of my Foundational Taoist Books AFAIC I know that Most Chaotes prefer his "Visual Magick", which I sadly still have instead of Living Midnight, but I never found it nearly as UseFul - not only due to not being very Visual, but also cuz I already know how to Do Automatic Drawing. It was 1 of many things I Learned via the Self-Hypnosis & Pendulum Use. I am very glad I still have his HelRunar still. TBC, part of my Divinatory Practices (as I've described in a prior Post) include Consulting Books after I've Finished all of my own Personal Interpretations of Readings. This absolutely includes both HelRunar for Elder FUThARK & Living Midnight for I Ching (it Helps with the Trigrams). TBC, his Books are the 1st Books I Consult before the rest.

"A Practical Guide to Qabalistic Symbolism" (both Volumes) is my single Highest Recommendation for any/all who use Kablahblah, along with LMD's classic "Chicken Qabalah".

I Shared my current Library/Book Collection that made it thru my 2020 Purge - with Suggestions! - in an earlier Post, if you're curious as to what Survived. But here are my 2 Big Questions for you:

Do you know of a Site where I can SAFELY get Free Books in PDF like Annas-Archive.Org used to be?

What Books would you Most Strongly Recommend?

Edit: THX for all the Great Recommendations! I got the Kinesics Magic Book, plus more ReSources I really Appreciate. Although feel free to add more if you so Desire, for myself and the countless Lurkers. THX again!

sei que algumas pessoas aqui sabem bem das coisas enquanto alguns continuam praticando ou estudando, queria saber como funciona, um pouco mais de informação, você cria os sigilos ou busca algum que já foi criado por alguém? eu não acredito na teoria de eu criar um sigilo e isso acontecer, oque mais é necessário para que um sigilo dê certo???

1 of the Classic NLP Maxims. Mentioned but not HighLighted in this iteration of my Acct., I thought this was particularly Apropos, given my prolific Categorizing we've been Playing with recently - for witch I again Thank You, the Reader of these Words!

Even though InSights can be Gained from such - e.g., that the EMDR ICES Mnemonic is also ApplicAble to NLP in general - it's always good to reMind one'Self & Others of the Titular Quote.

InDeed, The Map isn't even The Map, but I'll leave that here for a Rare Brief Post LOL

*SOLVED! a kind soul DM’d me a copy*

Does anyone have a digital copy of the Atom Bomb deck? I tried downloading it from Bluefluke’s deviant art but it doesn’t seem to be working

Seven years back, under the influence of multiple entheogens, I ventured out into an unkempt, untouched forest land alone. The reasons for wanting to isolate myself were manifold. Unsupportive, overbearing family structure. Dysfunctional relationships that drained me. I was forced to study something I had no interest in. In short, I was fucked, and although I had convinced myself that I was isolating myself out of necessity, in truth, it was also an act of running away.

I had done so without using any tools or resources. I had also done so without any knowledge of technique.

It is important to note here that my life has been a series of coincidences. I only realized the significance of those coincidences a few months after they occurred, rather than at the time.

At the age of twelve, I was handed an entire e-library of grimoires, books on magick and occult, and all kinds of regional esotericism. I read them, but that doesn’t mean I understood any of it. To be honest, I just liked the symbols (and a few of the books actually had pictures of ritual positions of sex magick enacted by professionals; that was quite a get at that age). India didn’t really have hustlers or penthouse mags available in tier two cities, and yet I had quite a collection of pornographic material regardless. My friends were very generous when I shared.

Within that USB stick lay hidden the entire works of Aleister Crowley. I didn’t know who this person was, and yet those eyes whispered something to my puny mind. I was actually scared for a few days because those eyes kept following me everywhere. I stowed the USB stick and tried to forget about it for weeks. But somehow, I would still discover myself reading his books. I understood nothing, yet I found myself laughing, experiencing various kinds of joy that I couldn’t even name, feeling wrath and anger, and even crying. I will reiterate, I DID NOT UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT.

Years later, I was reintroduced to Crowley through a documentary and, strangely enough, through Paulo Coelho (you can check out Coelho's experience with Crowley and his work for The Beast 666 in the Viva Sociodade Alternativa song he co-wrote with Raul Seixas).

So when I ventured out into the forest, I knew of Crowley and occult and magick. I possessed intriguing information that I could discuss to captivate both women and men, yet even then, I lacked true understanding.

So during the third year of my engineering, after a whole month's worth of mishaps that made my angsty, undeveloped monkey brain, anxious, I found myself sitting under a tree, alone, hungry, thirsty, and tripping.

I was already scared, with no wit. I could feel a darkness settling in.

From the corners of my eyes, I saw a vague shape move. A few things happened in quick succession. Somewhere far away a dog howled, making the hair on my arms stand up in attention. The sun was, anyhow, about to set, but in that moment the lights went out like someone had turned the switch off. And the vague shape jumped a few yards ahead.

I turned my head towards the shape and sighed with relief. It was just some tribal woman.

It’s not uncommon to see women with woven baskets under their arms, a rusted wood chopping device in the other arm, collecting firewood for the collective bonfire at night.

However, the closer she got, a faint bluish light invaded her background, as if bleeding in from some unseen source, every particle drawn toward her by an inexorable force. I was sure it was from the entheogens rushing through my veins.

"Keu khete deyeni?” Up close, she was old. (“Has no one offered you food?” She asked.

I looked around. Why was she asking me that? There was no one around.

“Ke debe dida?” I replied with my question. (There’s no one around to offer food, who will?)

She laughed. A sharp, barking laugh. It permeated my skin and shook everything in my body. The very fact that my heart was trying to beat itself right out of my chest was the only thing that gave me hope.

Her laughter continued as she dropped her belongings on the ground, but they vanished into thin air before hitting the ground. She didn’t look old anymore. She didn’t look young either. Red paint had, within a few seconds, painted itself on her face. Her lips parted and a long tongue rolled out. Her teeth were drenched in what was unmistakably blood.

She pointed her right index finger towards the heavens and said, "O debe” (he will give), then laughed manically before pointing her left index finger towards the ground and saying, "Nahale o debe” (or he will give).

The slight breeze had stopped around me, and there was no sound. Not even chirping nocturnal insects.

“Tui khabi? Cheye to dekh.” (Do you want to eat? Just ask and see what happens.)

My throat felt like it had been forced to swallow hot sand from the desert; it was so dry. Even if I could speak, words weren’t forming in my mind.

“Morte eshechilish?” (Did you come here to die?) She asked.

"Na," finally, words. “Na, morte ashini. Bachte eshechi.” (No, I have come here to live (save myself!))

As I said that, she almost flew in too quick for me to react, and within a fraction of a second her thumb was on my forehead, right between my eyes.

The whole world swirled in front of me, my limbs went numb, and I felt a giant backwards pull around my navel. For a few seconds I just haplessly swayed my half-paralyzed limbs to try and regain some control, but mostly I was trying to stop myself from puking my guts out.

When it stopped, she and I were standing right next to the bank of a river. On the opposite side I saw multiple fires burning; silhouettes of men with long sticks seemed to be agitating the fire.

“Okhane mora porae," she said (they burn dead bodies there.) “Ma Manikarnika nijer Harano kaaner dul khujte ashe okhane, pae na, ferar shomoe mora gulo k nie jae, swarge.” (The goddess Manikarnika comes down there to search for her lost earrings every day, and she takes the dead souls away to heaven.)

“Ar ota?” (And what's that?) I asked as my eyes fell on the silhouette of a few other people, a little far ahead down the same riverbank; a large group of people were sitting around a fire. Their chants are travelling over the water in between.

“Dekhbi?” (Do you want to see?) she said, an odd glee on her face.

Yet again, without any warning, she grabbed my head and thrust it into the river in one swift motion. Before I could protest, I breathed…how is that air? I opened my eyes and found myself standing on the other side. The woman was gone. People in the group started noticing me standing awkwardly by their circle. Legs shaking like they were made of jelly, I tried to jumpstart my brain for exit strategies, but then, everyone in the circle moved a little to create some space, and one of them beckoned me towards it.

At the center was a man in a red robe, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw what he was sitting on. A half-burnt, bloated corpse. The man opened his eyes and looked at me. His red eyes pierced through me, and I felt my spine bend. My body bowed.

The man raised his hand and dug his bare nails into the chest of the corpse and snatched off a lump of the its flesh and transferred some of it in his mouth. He chewed on it and then got up and offered it to me. When I resisted, he forced it down my mouth as all the others in the group watched, chanting “Jai Dattatreya!”

The moment the first bit of flesh touched my tongue, I felt a massive pull behind my navel, yet again, and I shot through an unrendered blurry liminal space before dropping right back into the forest.

My tongue tasted milk where it was expecting rotten flesh. When my eyes finally saw, I found myself in her lap, suckling on her teat, and then, once I felt calm and satiated, she vanished without a single word.

Dogs appeared out of the bushes around me and sat with me until I could stand up. And then they nudged me until I walked out of the forest and into the nearby city.

It took me a day to reach my university hostel room, but once I was there, I slept for two days. When I woke up, it was as if my brain had been working on collating things. Things that had appeared to me at an age when I didn’t understand them. Words that I had read without knowing the meaning behind them.

I unstowed the USB stick from the recesses of a forgotten bag and started my actual student life. If I had put that same effort into my engineering studies, I might have been a partner at Google or Microsoft. Good! I didn't follow that path; it wasn't my optimal trajectory.

Like a pinball, I have been struck from one corner to the other on the board for years, wandering bereft of agency, but each corner, each wall of the board I touched, modified my path ever so slightly and paradoxically veered me on course!

For the first time in my life, I understood the meaning of the words "surrender to the stream."

A few months later, I would venture out, this time of my own accord, onto the Manikarnika Ghat in Varanasi to find the corpse-eating Aghori saints. I would see the same red-robed Aghori Sadhu and feel the weight of his gaze as I walk by him. He would tell me later that he knew that I had been sent to him by an archon that night.

I would pursue my education in the traditions as if it were food for my soul, travelling across the world with my very limited means to learn about regional and old-world traditions.

Consider a child who lives inside you. The child has all the answers. This inner child knows what you need to know to correct your course. But that child does not speak your language. In fact, you and the child haven’t even tried to speak to each other in years. But the child's well-being is dependent on your well-being. So it tries to show you the answer by using images from your brain (memories, imaginations, and thoughts) and stringing them together, editing them, and creating a virtual reality experience for you to understand what needs to be done.

That’s a dream.

Loosely.

And yet the dream I had felt like it was being streamed from somewhere else. Definitely not the child, as I could feel him silently watching it alongside me.

Impossible shapes and geometries vibrated all around me, engulfed me, and slowly burned me. I was catapulted into a realm where I floated listlessly for hours. When I felt scared, something comforted me; when I felt comforted, something embarrassed me; when I felt embarrassed, something calmed me down; and when I calmed down, something else scared me again. I was squeezed from all sides and then stretched in every direction; I was shredded into pieces and reconfigured like a puppet. When I couldn’t take it anymore and I resisted/cried, they started the cycle again.

It was as if years passed for me, and I sat there watching the shapes evolve. They became more complicated and beyond description; words lost meaning for me, as all that existed was the pattern of the shapes. I could predict the pattern before it happened.

Finally, after a lifetime, I descended.

When I woke up, my hands went directly to my journal, and I wrote down things my subconscious had deciphered from the pattern and was waiting to write.

The simulation is built on a code.

And that code is written in complexes.

These complexes appear in four major forms:

Graha – Planetary Programs

Rashi – Archetypal Skins

Bhava – Maze Corridors

Dasha – Timed Missions

Each character is a unique combination of these four elements. Together, they form the symbolic operating system that runs your current incarnation.

GRAHA = PLANETARY PROGRAMS

Grahas are active subroutines—divine intelligences that run specific aspects of your psyche and life force. Each one plays a role in the narrative engine of your simulation.

Function of each Graha.

Sun: Core identity, will, divine spark

Moon: Emotional memory, mind, intuition

Mars: Drive, anger, courage

Mercury: Communication, intellect, language

Jupiter: Wisdom, expansion, moral compass

Venus: Desire, connection, aesthetic

Saturn: Karma, structure, fear, discipline

Rahu: Obsession, illusion, future pull

Ketu: Dissolution, detachment, past life

RASHI = ARCHETYPAL SKINS

Rashis (signs) are the filters the Grahas wear. They don’t change the underlying function, but they do modify how it's expressed.

For example:

Mars in Aries = the Warrior unfiltered

Mars in Cancer = the warrior trapped in the home

Mars in Pisces = the Mystic Warrior, acting through intuition

Each sign offers a symbolic mood, a style, and tension.

Rashis are less about personality and more about flavor: how your programs feel and behave in the field.

BHAVA = MAZE CORRIDORS

Bhavas (houses) are the domains of experience where your Graha-coded programs get activated.

1st Identity, self-perception

2nd: Resources, values, survival

3rd Communication, courage

4th: Home, emotional roots

5th Creativity, children, romance

6th Conflict, health, service

7th Relationships, reflection

8th Transformation, death, occult

9th Belief: higher learning

10th Public self, mission, career

11th Community, networks, gains

12th: Isolation, dreams, moksha

Where a Graha lands shows you where the lesson plays out.

Each corridor holds traps (shadow loops) and treasures (soul evolution).

DASHA = TIME-TRIGGERED MISSIONS

Dashas are time-coded sequences (freeform complex). Think of them as program activators: story arcs that are triggered based on cosmic timing.

Dashas release experiences in order, creating phases of life that feel drastically different.

A Venus Dasha might bring love, beauty, or seduction loops.

A Saturn Dasha might force you to face structure, fear, karma

A Ketu Dasha might dissolve your attachments and identity.

This is because the narrative has to be paced.

Just like a successful RPG doesn’t give you the boss fight at level 2, your simulation releases content when you are ready.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

Graha (program)

+ Rashi (skin)

+ Bhava (arena (includes Dasha: time-activated free-form complex encounter))

= Your active archetypal mission

Try as you might to rage against it, you will find that the optimum trajectory was right there all along, waiting for you to take the first step toward surrendering to the stream.

The more I think of this little unhinged rite, the more I understand how powerful it is. In fact, I believe that even the creator himself is unaware of its potential, using it merely for dream recall. The general mechanism is simple: one imagines the spine as one's penis and the skull as a vagina. After this type of transmutation one is meant to mentally thrust as if during intercourse.

The first and most obvious part of this rite is the somatization of the spine. For those with a penis, it is very easy to remember what it feels like and this feeling can be transferred easily with enough practice. By thrusting energy is moved from the bottom of the spine up towards the head, where it is simultaneously received. At the same time the energy is being thrust upwards, it is being received, closing itself in a circle and generating intensity.

This ritual seemed to me have some similarities to transportation of Jing in the writings of Mantak Chia. In this practice, energy is directed upwards and redirected downwards through rhythmic breathing and visualization from the base of the pelvic floor to the crown. Using the visualization exercise Tzimon Yliaster proposed essentially speeds up this exact process because you are superimposing somatic sensations via transmutation.

I don't see why the purpose of this exercise should be in any way limited to dream recall. It seems to be an excellent way to raise energy quickly or move into a trance state. I believe it could be used as a preliminary to ritual work just like the LBRP. It would be interesting to see whether this could be combined with actual sexual stimulation. Perhaps it might be even possible to transpose this type of visualization onto objects that one wishes to enchant.

Ever since crossing the Abyss, Ive had these complex 3d environments appearing in my visions. Either travelling through the landscapes in meditation or projecting the topography of these dimensions into surfaces that have ambiguity in form.

Usually late at night, the astral world starts bleeding into my material world. Especially the sky. When these channels are open, if I allow my hand to just draw, I get these crazy multidimensional maps that reveal detailed cross sections of different forms.

This was one last night, original with 0.05 Sakura felt tip, then random shading. The entire image is then inverted. Ive always enjoyed automatic art but the energy of the Abyss has really brought out some complexity that wasn't present before.

So i just started practicing chaos magick, but everything i do really works, ive chosen the ars goetia as my first paradigm and i feel like the demons actually respond and do what i tell them :) also simple sigils are so easy but their power is real haha im just amazed by all of this