I woke up to Bookclub which was a strange experience. I don’t know how I feel about it. Actually, I do know. The author has to show up and answer a half hour's worth of deep questions about his book while people analyze every bit of it and ask endless questions about all the strings and special effects, how it all happened. The author cannot say "I really don’t know." People are free to stand up and tell him what they like about it, what they don’t. It is, in a way, serving up an author as a feast to the reader's vanity.

NIGHT PRAYERS

Tonight, at the altar we sing to the gods. We chant and sing and shake the keys and the implements, light the candles, burn the incense, wait for them to come. Call the other spirits,the spirits we are remembering, the dead, the lost, the despairing, call up the saints and the boddhisatvas, call up openness and the remembrance of pleasure, the remembrance of hope, the remembrance of people just trying to do a little bit in this world.

I want to share myself with someone. I get out of the shower and dry myself with the window open and the light on, the curtains up, because it is hot as hell and my apartment is largely hidden, but also because I feel so in need of sharing myself sexually. I will log on one more time. I want to be under Alan, connect with another. I may end up giving myself to myself. I cannot keep this desire in much longer.

            I almost gave up writing last night. Every once in a while, when I see people who are doing so much better than me, paid so much more attention to me and no one is reading me or needing me and my world only seems to serve me, there is a part of me that says, why write, leave this alone, why don’t you disappear. Your writing is not very good or very necessary, leave it alone. If I write more in this journal tonight it will be in response to this.

ALONE

Sometimes we need the negative space, the space between paragraphs where nothing is said and little is done. The little Sabbath between all things that makes a necessary breath. We log on, momentarily, to Adam4Adam where people are always at their worst always putting you at your worst, and then move way from that island of misfit and broken toys. I feel whole right now and wish to remain that way. It is not true that all religions are the same or that we want the same things. Leavine on religion I find myself leaving its values, what it offers and what I am trying to obtain and attuning myself to something different, something I believe to be better. Embracing Buddhist, for example, one must except that the promises and goal of Christianity are simply not there and weight if the qualities of this other way are better are more meet. The old concerns hand there like phantom arms.

I feel so alone and solitary, solid, whole, contained, not in need, not desperate, not longing for attention, love, friendship, fucking, at peace in myself. I would not endanger this by spending too much time online. I almost wish to spend no time online.

On a night like this I do not Deny that I want your long limbs around me, that ll I can do is remember how tall you were, how long, and long for you before me, the scruff of your beard, the smell of salt on your body, the taste of pot and regret, the sex.

ON WHICH WE FEAST

The truth is, if you read more Aleister Crowley, you might be a happier soul. I don't want to be him, but much of my sorrow and despair has been from living on a path that was very much unlike his. I have lived divorced from lust, desire and imagination feasting on smallness and fear. I have feasted to long on someone else's fear and madness. I need to sit at the altar of my inner temple and wait for the gods to reveal themselves to me.  This is all new to me and I am as fragile as I am strong. It seems many times in this upcoming spring I have fllen into deep despairs and wanted to weep, horrible depressions. We ought to be more careful of that on which we feast, but there is so much poisonous food lying everywhere.

To read a newspaper is to refrain from reading something worth while. The first discipline of education must therefore be to refuse resolutely to feed the mind with canned chatter.



Modern morality and manners suppress all natural instincts, keep people ignorant of the facts of nature and make them fighting drunk on bogey tales.

Part of the public horror of sexual irregularity so-called is due to the fact that everyone knows himself essentially guilty.

Indubitably, magic is one of the subtlest and most difficult of the sciences and arts. There is more opportunity for errors of comprehension, judgment and practice than in any other branch of physics.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/a/aleister_crowley.html