Suspended Animation
There was something about the familiarity of the sun that brought me comfort. Now that it is slinking away due to a shift in seasons I no longer damn the warmth but long for it. What is so peculiar about us as human beings is that we are always left wanting what we can’t have. Fortunately enough, along with civilisation, we’ve built temperature controlled environments, and one never has to be subjected to discomfort with the right bank balance. Just because I’m a magician does not mean I can control the weather, mine is a psychic force, concerned with mental processes. If we could indeed do such a thing we would all want different things at different times and who would the wind blow for, or the sun shine for? Mind and word magic being my expertise, I have uncovered many a hidden gem only known to me.
I dissolve and coagulate constantly, turning brassy constructs into gold. This is done with the help of my self-created thought form and alternative persona Azzerae. I see those who solely celebrate joy and I am repulsed by their one track minds. Nirvana cannot be sustainable, for misery teaches us so much. The dissatisfaction with which I begrudgingly carry myself is a constant, always shifting, altering perspectives to bring a sense of balance to an otherwise limited set of belief systems. When I say God is dead, what I mean is the system is flawed and eternal joy can be attained but it must get exhausting. I am not a devil worshipper, but the fallen are a crucial part of the picture, and to evade them is to live in utter denial.
Suppose you make offerings to the gods, and are met with resistance to your desires. One must factor in that chaos is intrinsic in magic, and not all outcomes unfold as expected. You are not dealing with the compassion and redemption of Christ when dabbling in the darker arts, rather you are striking deals with dangerous entities that honour only what is spiritual law. And this is a very different world to the one with which we are familiar. The gods exist on their own terms and will barter with you for what is mutually beneficial rather than bless you and relieve you of your sins. Only the one true God can do so, whereas the littler gods specialise in a transactional relationship. If you are prepared to make offerings to them they will certainly be willing to aid you on your path to enlightenment. A path that continues long after the human soul has left their bodies, and can only be achieved then.
Why many mystics turn away from God and serve deities instead is because the process works. I do not reserve judgement for their involvement in such matters, for if one is to enter into these bargains one would surely know how to protect themselves. However I give more credit where it is due because beginners often get burnt by a particular god due to their inexperience. Many of the grimoires of old fail to teach the up and coming mystic the reasons behind certain processes, and with inexperience comes a great deal of danger. Dealing with gods does not automatically give one free reign to do as they will, for many of these gods hold their own belief patterns that are at odds with those who conjure them. One must always keep this in mind when entering into a relationship with a god. I do not engage in teaching or instruct others how to go about handling the gods they do, for I refuse to be responsible for the illness or death of a fool.
Additionally, when one removes the premise of guide or guru from their namesake others have a tendency to trust what they say by their own accounts all the more. I have always said that my own personal anecdotes are the only yardstick I utilise to inform or enlighten. Protecting oneself from those who are irresponsible with their magic is paramount, and quite frankly, I wish to have nothing to do with those unpleasant types. Magic is not something to be toyed with, for it is incredibly dangerous, and can in some instances be lethal with the wrong approach. While one may think my incessant mention of my pseudonym in a literary sense is just a nom de plume and nothing more, I have a magical purpose behind what I am projecting into the readers mind. It is an initiatory process of acceptance, being instilled in those who dismiss such things as fictions — and with that notion I am quite comfortable.
Distinguishing between the writer and his literary device is a skill reserved for the insightful, one in which there is acknowledgement of its existence on a psychic level. The more folks I can get to believe in my alter the better. It is not good nor evil, but a neutral, balanced, powerful force that is helped along by the collective thought forms. Seeds are being planted all the time, and for others what was not prior will become real eventually. This is why I find it difficult to categorise what I am doing under a blanket genre or medium, for it is always shifting between one thing and another, showing itself to those who choose to accept it. I cannot urge my readers enough to do their own research, whatever that may be, in order to enrich their magical practice. I do not for a minute expect to see others employ my stratagems, as they will fall flat under the weight of mimicry.
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Metragrammatism would be my definition of this thought form coming to life on the page. I also show you behind the curtain, revealing the bigger picture in order deter those suffering under the throes of stupidity off my scent. For there is nothing more confusing to an idiot than a man who takes a female alias, creates a male persona alongside it, and brings it to life in the minds of his readers. To my enemies: crucify me if you wish. Grovel before your God, and pray I never catch wind that you are the ones attempting to wholly sabotage me. For the repercussions will be swift and come in rapid succession. You are not dealing with a charlatan but rather a powerful sorcerer, and providence will prove so. I need not address my enemies any further, as among me are some friendlies that need not be subjected to such diatribes. I reserve those for spiritual battle, and I know that there is warfare unfolding all throughout the other realms. We as humans see none of it, unless of course we are sensitives, born with the ability to recognise when energy is off in the room.
Suppose I was not capable of clairvoyance, and I did not possess the discipline to pursue the great work. I would then be a miserable person, like so many today, and wound up in the base pleasures of a life that only has plasticity to give. To produce literature and artwork is the greatest joy one can experience, in my view. But it requires dedication unmatched, pushing through incredible pain, and subjecting oneself to critique in the public square. There is no time for mastery in a society so fast paced, and the digital realm is murdering the arts as we have known them. The greatest artists of our time did not have social media, nor did they have artificial intelligence to do their busywork. They did what they did the hard way, one which is not appreciated or exercised today. My modus operandi is not to conserve the past and avoid moving forward, rather it is to honour that which makes a man truly great.
Azzerae has been conditioned to act off aggression and draw strength from my lowest points in time. It is not a case of emotional immaturity but a setting loose of righteous anger from someone otherwise good and just. The balance is what is most important to remember, as nobody is all good or all bad. The dark is just as important as the light, and the author behind Azzerae is more light hearted than he. This is where the transgressive fusion of opposites comes in to play, merging outsider philosophy with confrontational storytelling and an esoteric bent. The occult has illuminated man since time immemorial. It is no different with the thought forms I have invented, first as fictions, then made manifest. I do not pretend to know all, but there has been much gained along the way, through an arduous journey of self-initiation, and subjecting myself to that which is difficult — not for the sake of it, rather as a stepping stone to seemingly impossible tasks.
Those who gaze at the page and it gazes back, a swirling abyss, not telling them anything but their failures, makes many a writer fall from grace. Enters Azzerae, and I myself have not those problems. He lives inside my mouth, and tells me what to say. Fortified in the citadel of my mind, he lets loose ideas that dance, and in the dancing self-discovery is made. He is the myth that came true, the lips that spoke of seppuku. Only by destroying the ego can one be whole again. We are not legion, but rather a unified front, picking at the scabs of society — making it bleed again, in order to enact sorcery on the greater public. Therefore a stoning in the public square is publicly called for, and we survive it by magic alone.
Those who are terrified of the devil but chase his tail are the very ones who beg for damnation. I am right with my creator, and He is the only true guide, for gods have their purpose, but none outshine His greatness. I need not ask forgiveness from a dead god, but rather make things right with God Himself. While esoteric Christianity is confusing to many, mystics of all kinds fail because they refuse to acknowledge their one true creator. The existence of gods means not the disbelief in Him who perpetuates all. Flowing forth from the sacred mouth is many a miracle, unexplained. There need not be that which works in human logic for us to recognise He is the way.
My pseudonym is not an idol, he is a literary device who walks among pages and makes his presence known through words alone. He exists through his name. If I were to discontinue the thought forms that make him manifest he would cease to exist. Therefore he does not in any way control my thoughts or actions, as I am his creator. In doing so, I experience what it is to be a god in my own right, and accept the offerings that are made to me. There is nothing inherently wrong with the process, for it is fashioned off the image of God and how He relates to us, His creation. For now, Azzerae rests his head, and I depart from the page, suspending him in animation.
