Fall from Grace: Diary of a Previously Unemployed Knife Thrower

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Image: Eve, John Collier, Wikiart

Saturday 5 August 2017

The look on Eve’s face is telling, or is that the artist projecting his own notions of shame against the Mother of all? Let’s face it, She was set up. There was a power struggle going on, the male priesthood and establishment need a scapegoat and she fitted the bill. Compared to the divine ancestor my situation is a mere gnat bite on the body of humanity. Okay, a slip of the hand and my assistant, the little anaemic sop… Let me correct that, he was anaemic by the time they took him into the ambulance. Accidents happen at work, why on earth they had to involve the Health & Safety people I don’t know. It’s an occupational hazard for anyone involved in the business. To be fair his threat of a lawsuit forced their hand.

Talking of accidents, that no-good, con artist of an agent got her comeuppance today. The zombies she was representing finally had enough of being ripped off and demanded a pound of flesh. In fact they got several pounds of the stuff, the police had a problem identifying her. Justice has been served with a bottle of Rioja!

Sunday 6 August 2017

Still can’t get that image of Eve out of my head. When I knew her She was like a star of the brightest light. Why did it go wrong? Humanity wasn’t meant to be mired in darkness and ignorance. As for the lie about using one of Adam’s ribs to create a companion, well, it leaves you a little speechless. Does that mean that if she was injured or happened to become existentially challenged. Wait, what do I mean? Anyway, if she died, would he die as well? To be honest the heart of humanity suffered great a grievous wound when they wrote the various Books. Bad PR folks, look what they did to Lilith and Mary Magdalene. Shame, shame and shame. I’m ashamed to be a man. To be honest the women are just as bad, maybe even worse. Makes you wonder what kind of deity/Higher Being/Cosmic Conscious they believe in. I’m Freud would have plenty to say about that, he wouldn’t have minced his words. He was a straight talking guy when I knew him.

I’ve been six months in this temp job now, the people are just as dysfunctional as I am. Fit right in. Hard though being cheerful, not in my nature to be a ray of sunshine. It’s been a challenge keeping my tongue quiet, been sorely tempted at times to tell some of those people what I really think of them. Humans can be so, needy and malicious. At least your average chthonian or solar deity would display such negative traits with a bit more style and aplomb. Persephone warned me about cutting back on the bitchiness. Do I listen to her? Not always alas. I miss Eve and Lilith.

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Image: Lilith with a Snake, John Collier, Wikiart

Monday 7 August 2017

These thoughts about our lost Paradise are making me maudlin. Well, Paradise hasn’t been lost exactly. It’s just that humanity is on an attachment this material plane of manifestation for a while and will return to HQ when it’s been completed. Although I don’t think humanity quite understands the work that’s involved in working from the Divine Blueprint. That doesn’t apply to all the work experience people though, many actually get the concept of Free Will. I’m making it sound like a huge corporate nightmare, perish the thought! It’s more like a centre of learning/temple without walls or boundaries. That’s the best I can do. That reality is hard to describe, even though I’ve visited many times. The supervisors are numerous and often hard task masters, or that’s how it appears to human perception. I think humans know them as angels, archangels, etc. Just realised, I keep referring to ‘humans’. I’m, no, I used to be human. Not sure what I am now, not undead, not either living or even dead. It’s a strange existence, I straddle several worlds. Makes your thighs ache like mad! Heh, heh. I thought it was funny.

Tuesday 8 August 2017

Angels. Now that’s a subject I could go on about for hours but won’t in deference to them. They’ve been viewed variously as benevolent and sinister. Depends on which side of the divide you stand, the Abyss can be a nasty place to fall into. I’ve peered in and it isn’t somewhere you take the family for a night out. The ones known as the Fallen have been viewed with fear and more. There’s been so much misinformation bandied about them, some of it deliberate. The great ‘War in Heaven’…What was that about? Did we ever stop to think what was really going on there? Nothing, nothing, ever happens just by chance. Humanity has a destiny to fulfil but has managed to get side-tracked many times, not easy I suppose maintaining a balance between their twin natures. Hard having the both in one body can be problematic. Sandalphon ensures I get to hear all the latest news. We have a chat when it’s quiet and when I can bother to get out of ‘grumpy immortal git’ mode. I should open up to them a bit more but it’s centuries of conditioning I need to discard before reaching the inner, sensitive man.

Wednesday 9 August 2017

I’ve been getting to the urge to slap one of the team across the face with rotting fish. Swear I saw his eyes turn black momentarily and an aroma of sulphur follow him out of the room. He’s a wiry individual with a spiteful streak. He reminds me of one of the demons I came across when wandering the wasteland many years ago. Now that was the perfect place for some of the not so friendly Fallen. Gross material matter has a tendency to change things in unexpected ways. No laughing matter, I’ve seen the effects on so many that came through the planes of manifestation we know of, also the innumerable ones we don’t. Humans need to keep their boundaries more secure, by that I mean not allow any ‘walk ins’ to get a foothold. They allow fear to cause breaches in their protective shells, letting in things that are quite nasty.

Thursday 10 August 2017

This diary’s beginning to go places I don’t want to. Probably because of the hovel I’m currently inhabiting. The landlady advertised it as a ‘jewel of an apartment in a desirable central location’. It’s next to a recycling plant and built over a doorway into the infernal regions. Sounds funny written down but I’m not laughing. Even the cockroaches and silverfish had thrown in the towel and left en masse. They begged me to leave with them but I couldn’t afford anything better. Anyway, they left me a phone number of a good estate agent (think I just saw a pig fly past my window) just in case I changed my mind.

The landlady gives me the creeps and I spent several decades as assistant to a Necromancer in Tartarus. They were the worst years of employment imaginable. Something about her makes my skin crawl, although the plastic surgery has rectified that issue. I don’t look a day older than 670. My skin looks luminous (that might be the accidental exposure to radiation) and you can bounce a rubber ball off my toned posterior. Where was I? Yessssssssssss, my landlady. I’m not sure what else she does apart from instil a terrible feeling of dread in the soul. She’s never around during the day and as soon as twilight approaches her door creaks open to reveal…I can’t even write what she looks like because I can’t remember. Strange that. I have a theory about what she could be but uttering it aloud and even writing it down could cause a terrible tear in the fabric of the Universe. Sandalphon and even Mikael dropped hints about her true nature but I was rather preoccupied with other matters.

Friday 11 August 2017

I managed to corner Sandalphon and Mikael this morning. They were a little reticent about the matter. I think they were trying to be polite, kind even about my lack of awareness. They don’t view reality as humans do, and human emotions are quite alien to their kind but many have chosen to work with humanity. In order to help them achieve wholeness and evolve; to become divine beings once again and bring back knowledge of the material world to the Source and angelic hierarchy. Anyway, I digress. I was quite shocked at their revelation. Bad luck seems to follow me round like a hungry dog.

The house is built over part of the Abyss and the landlady is a ruler over one of its levels. I’m cursed, that’s the only explanation. Mikael gently commented that I was quite right about the curse. Coming from this archangel it is doubly wounding. Well, at least he’s on my side. I’ve upset many in my long and illustrious career, so it could be anyone. Mikael waited patiently for me to run through the suspects. Four hours and 42 cups of coffee later I remembered who it was, who cursed me that is. The ancient Egyptian serpent Apep. I recall trapping his tail in one of the gates in the Underworld. I wasn’t meant to be there at the time but wandered in through the wrong doorway. Set was about to spear Apep when I interrupted them. Well, you can imagine their annoyance. My brief sojourn in the Underworld didn’t go well. That Apep has one foul mouth on him! I need to get a hobby. Roll on the weekend…

What are You Seeking?

Image: Pixabay

We are what you name Watchers. You may ask what our purpose is and we will answer, “Watching you”. There are others less benevolent and these you must watch for humanity. You are gifted with free will, and as such we cannot interfere unless you seek our help.

Why tell you this? Our tale is one that does not end happily, at least for one of your kind. He straddled the Light and Dark, consumed by desires that condemned, and ultimately destroyed him. The vestiges of humanity vanished from his soul as did the lifeblood from his veins.

The bridge between conscious action and blind instinct is a narrow one. He fell, rushed headlong into the abyss. We counselled him but he did not listen. Even though he called us. Such hubris!

An ancient evil heard his cries, opened the gates of no return. She seduced, played him like a lyre, brought forth sweet, sweet music. Then, she feasted upon this prize. For an eternity they lay upon cobwebs and veils of Shadow. Pleasure upon pleasure both sought and received. Such deception she rained upon him until the moment of annihilation.

It was done. We were too late. Another soul was obliterated from memory, imprisoned in her vaults of terror. This is his tale:

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Image: Pixabay

I asks what he’s seeking. He pauses, giving much thought before answering. Eternal Life, regeneration, passion, love, and perhaps even power. 

I read his thoughts, seeking the truth of intentions. What he desires to embrace is total and utter annihilation of selfhood and existence. How little he understands the path being sought.

This human is intoxicated with the concept of life eternal, but sees little else beyond the shadows and nullifying emotions. The ones who look for the vaulted mansions of the undead come away with only dust filled minds. 

The red and black contain a myriad of mysteries. Yin and Yang, blood, power, life, and death. These are the mysteries he seeks but has little understanding of. Those who pass beyond the shrouded doorway are blessed indeed. They see past veils of illusion, into worlds glimpsed in dreams and nightmares. 

What strong limbs you have sweet one, and skin of honey. How his hunger gnaws away at manhood and mind. Soft breath, such soft breath. Dear, dear human! Should I admire your temerity in even approaching the gates of my temple? We watched your birth humanity, and cursed the day you drew breath.

To enter into the darkness is folly I tell him, but does he listen? No, he is beyond redemption. This I expected. What a distraction he will be.

‘Kiss me’ I cajole him. How easily he succumbs, pliant like clay in my hands. His lifeblood races through veins, flesh and bone. It calls to me, sings to me. 

Your scent intoxicates me, it calls to mind incense offered in my temples. Night blooming Hellebore, sandalwood, cedar, and opium poppies. See how he murmurs, yields to my ministrations.

The sun shall not rise for you again dear human. This is the twilight of your existence. The light fades soon from his green eyes, gone, gone. He sleeps now.

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Image: Pixabay

Is this the end you ask? Not quite. In the depths of his despair did he call out one last time to us and we readily answered. Do not be quick to mock, thinking our words reflect mere sentimentality and wishful thinking. The most precious part of this doomed soul we saved. His tiny spark we gathered in love, for the ancient one could do little to stop us. So did the hellish gates of her temple close, until the next time Nameless One. We wait and watch. So, what are YOU seeking?

Transcendent 

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Image: Frantisek Kupka, Wikiart

All proceeds from the divine Lotus,

Light issued from the First Womb.

Enfolded within is Child transcendent,

divine blueprint, whisper of dreams

unfolding. Risen Sun.

Night falls, Sun is setting. Light

descends into Darkness, Wisdom

withdraws into Silence.

Forgotten

Image: Pixabay

Immense and silent stand these cathedrals of old. Forgotten and wiped from the Book of Time. Its gods have retreated, never to return.  Are they mourned? Are they remembered?

The She warrior contemplates and pauses. Her vigil is yet to begin, but here of all places? The Old Ones demand much, stretching the bow, push it to breaking point. Does it hold, spring back with agility? She is chosen, foremost of many. Foremost of sacrifices.

The one who walks in Light must also face Darkness. The one who walks in Darkness must also face Light. They are ever entwined, locked in passionate dance. Each mirrors the other, a reminder of origins and of becoming.

Face to face they must stand, engage in battle, sword and spear at the ready. The She warrior approaches, sword in hand and ever watchful. So begins the vigil in a place forlorn and forgotten. Yet, a glimmer of what was once remains, a last shred of hope and salvation. The shadows of those who served gather, encircling one of their own, protecting and nurturing.

Thus emboldened does she begin, enter into the Great Silence. Matter transmutes, is shaped and emerges. It bathes in the Waters of dissolution, is transfigured in Fire, enters the silent Earth, carried on Divine breath. The cycle is not what it seems but so much more. Elemental powers advance and recede, like waves upon the shore. Time rushes by, as if a river in fullness, powerful, danger filled and nullifying. The hidden rhythm plays, unfolds and drives to distraction. One-two-three-four. So it begins but when and where will it end?

One-two-three-four, these are her heartbeats, these are their heartbeats. Deeper she slips, riding high on waves of Nothingness. Matter transmutes, is shaped and emerges. It bathes in the Waters of dissolution, is transfigured in Fire, enters the silent Earth, carried on Divine breath. Deeper and deeper does she flow, through gate after gate, facing Guardian after Guardian. Then the rhythm ceases. How the silence weighs heavy, a place neither one nor the other. With sword in hand does she stand, poetical movement display, serpent’s wisdom unveil.

Darkness approaches, Light advances. One is in need of the other, one repulses the other. Circling, they are locked in passionate dance, ever entwined and watchful. Treachery and deceit hide in honeyed words, offer warmth and affection unbridled. ‘Beware’ cries her heart. ‘Beware the foe in friend’s guise, turn from path of no return. Guard the life that you bring.’ The Shadow circles, unceasing, taking on guise after guise, ever watchful, ever plotting. It seduces, places temptation, remonstrates, pleads helplessly. Resolute she must be against things of illusion, against things of sorcery.

One-two-three-four, the rhythm unfolds, emerges from Void and Nothingness. These are her heartbeats, these are their heartbeats. Silence shatters, screams echo, swords meet, battle commences. What is at stake? Cosmic Balance and Eternal Soul. One cannot exist without the Other. Deep the She warrior looks, deep within the heart of Darkness, within its very sanctum. Light resides within Darkness and Darkness within Light. This truth remains and cannot be unwritten. Does she accept? Does she abandon? What lies at the end of this path but only illumination? Face to face they struggle. One-two-three-four beats their heart, in harmony, in perfection.

How does the battle end? Life and Death conjoined, one cannot Be without the Other. Screams echo, silence shatters. Fire flashes from blade to blade. The Old Ones watch and ruminate. The river that is Time flows on ceaseless journey, worlds end and are reborn. One-two-three-four, the rhythm unfolds, emerges from Void and Nothingness. These are her heartbeats, these are their heartbeats. She can hear nothing else, only follow warrior’s sacred path, and choose balance. Fire flashes from Soul to Soul, ceases from blade to blade. The greater battle is yet to come. One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four. The Three unfolds, re-joins its kin and reaches the Nine. Then annihilation. Of ego, falsehood and fear. It is done.

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Image: Pixabay

The She warrior emerges, triumphant, foremost of many, foremost of sacrifices. They have their champion, they have their salvation. The gods have returned, her task is completed.

Born of Lightning

Image: Pixabay

I am born of lightning, fire and ice conjoined, a melding of dragon’s breath and poison. Mighty Odin, what seek you? Why birth me from my slumber, tear me asunder from stars blazing. I go through Voids unknowable, my sightless eyes piercing, my soundless voice shouting. Shall I prophesy, hold to account, reveal the hidden? I shall do your bidding, Birther of Seers, Elder God, Rune Lord. What do you answer to? Let me whisper it, mouth to ear, that which is your true self, your true name.

I rise from Nothingness, ride on bolts of fire and sear like a brand. I have no tales to tell, only knowledge forgotten, the song is not mine but will be soon. Send me the runes for I cannot foretell that which is hidden. The visions come like waves upon the shore. Bringing echoes of memories of war and of sadness, of worlds lost and regained. Our future selves consign us to a past they consider broken, thought of as meaningless, shadowed wraiths forgotten. Shall I prophesy, hold to account, reveal the hidden?

I see you hang upon the Tree, blood and tears conjoining, tearing apart that which is divine, hidden, glimpsed only in shadows. A worthy sacrifice, Elder God. Did you find what you were seeking? Did your pain rend the veils, walls of stone and disbelief? Knowledge such as yours does not come easily, has to be wooed and soothed with humility. You stand between worlds, changed beyond comprehension, not as you were before but something else. Such illumination is both burden and blessing.

I am born of lightning, fire and ice conjoined, a melding of dragon’s breath and poison. You see me hang upon the Tree, blood and tears conjoining, tearing apart that which is human, hidden, glimpsed only in shadows. Shall I prophesy, hold to account, and reveal the hidden?

Coming into Being: Waiting at the Threshold

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Image: Pixabay

It’s been months seen we last faced each other. No, not quite true. Each morning I greet one aspect of him guarding our porch and again on return in the evening. The statuette sits on the window ledge, as did a previous form, a gentler persona this time. His Nibs (or Anubis) as I affectionately call him, has seen me through calm and turbulent times over the years. I’ve occasionally neglected our association and focussed on other matters. Perhaps I wasn’t ready at those times to see his true message. The gods choose us rather than we choose them. This much I now understand. Continue reading

Orpheus Ascended: Spirit of Memory

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Image: Pixabay

Deep in thought is the green eyed god, brow furrowed and eyes distant. Tormented by past, present and future. Orpheus knows not what path to follow, what choices to make. A decision must be made, his duty, not mine. He called us but denial stares back at us. How we delude ourselves when fate does not comply with our deepest most treasured desire. The same pattern, again and again. His heart still bleeds, still hurts, but wallowing in the swamp of misery and grief serves none. Eurydice is beyond our reach, descended into regions distant and unknowable. She has gained gnosis of a kind that the living cannot, should not be privy to until ready. My sisters and I are Physical Being, Soul and Spirit. The Trinity are we of your Soul oh humanity. The hidden Essence of your very existence. Continue reading

Sing to Me of Yearning and Loss: Spirit of Love

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Image: Pixabay

 “Sing to me of yearning and loss. Bring my heart to life. Let me feel the passion of her kiss and agony of her death” he commands. Yet, does he want to be reminded of his loss?

The musicians stare at the archaic god, one whose voice and musicianship have bowed even the heads of the infernal deities in Hades. Once his eyes bore the light of stars but now are touched with deep shadows that tell of ordeal and tribulation. Despite the kiss of deep sorrow he still bears an unearthly beauty. Mighty king of Thrace, blessed with gifts beyond measure to calm even the mightiest storm. How can they refuse such an honour? They are no strangers to the Orphic Mysteries and it is no accident great Orpheus has come upon this place. Continue reading

Magi – #Stream of Consciousness Saturday- In

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Image: Pixabay

My response this week to Linda G Hill’s prompt Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Linda’s prompt was:

‘Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “in/out.” Use one, use both, use ’em any way you’d like. Enjoy!’

He was sorting his wares in the market square, an unassuming man in threadbare clothes. I watched him from behind a column. Silently and surely did he contemplate each item. It was as if he meditating upon the message each imparted to his inner being. Totally focussed and serene. I was taken aback, wanting to know more but hesitant about approaching him. People barely glanced at him, dismissing the man as a beggar. Didn’t they see the light within him? It flowed out like a clear mountain stream. The Universe had finally sent their messenger, I was sure of it. How long had I waited for this sign?

Time passed slowly around us. It seemed like hours that I sat and viewed him from my vantage point. The song of angels rang in my ears. How strange and rather awe inspiring. A memory hovered briefly, of great illumination, of stars and planets. This Self was one removed from the earthly plane. She/He being an emanation of the Great Consciousness. Messenger and Keeper of the Records were they. Then the memory vanished like mist in the sun. The Stranger lifted his head and looked straight at my hiding place. He knew! For an eternity it seemed each stared at the other. His light flowed forth and gathered before me. For a brief moment it held the gift of Grace. Magi. He was a Magus.

Legendary beings spoken of in hushed tones. Guardians of humanity and the Light. Something unknown swept through me. I could see the blood rushing through my veins, its power intensifying with each breath. Points of light sparkled within the crimson rivers, gold flakes were they. Then the vision faded. He was standing before me. He was the figure who had haunted my dreams since before birth.

‘You are the one I have come for. Come, ready yourself neophyte’. His voice was deep and melodious, it spoke to my Soul.

I had little in the way of possessions and family. No ties to this place. The horizon beckoned. I glanced at the Magus and knew what my destiny was to be. The trials and hardships had lead me to this point. The Alchemists say that the gross matter of the Soul is purified in Fire, finally to become transformed into spiritual Gold. I looked IN the Book of Life and saw what wonders and trials lay ahead.