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* * *
And at last I begin to let the light in, and am no longer afraid of doing so. Because I realise it's MY light to CONTROL. And to use as I see fit. And all the fools who laughed at me are wrong! And all those voices that tried to command and control me and influence me are wrong! And I vow, from this day on, to never allow others to influence my life in negative ways. And I realise the reason why I didn't leave these three darkened rooms before was only because I was afraid... But more... I realise that the fear I felt was only because others had conditioned and entrained me that way.

And I strengthen. And vow to be true to myself, above all else. To put myself first, above all else. To follow my heart's desire, above all else. To free myself from all the conditioning, above all else.

To be Free! To be Free! To be Free! Above all else!

And I feel my anger and my rage fuelling the fire of my force and drive towards my bright future... And I rejoice!

And I feel my grief of older days and ways dissolving, being turned to a new-found desire to Love and Be Loved [My Beloved] through loving and embracing every moment of myself and my new-found strength and courage and focus and energy and commitment and dedication towards myself and my future... And I rejoice!

And I realise that the anger is really only my Passion for my own separate, unique and prideful self... And I raise it up... And I rejoice in it!

And I realise my grief is really only Life's way of getting through to me, telling me that I wasn't living my life in full realisation of my true inner self, my own unique pure true prideful truth... And I raise it up... And I rejoice in it!

And I know now that the Anger=Passion is the Spark which provides the imagination, the creativity to create, the Spark of sexual energy to create. And with this and with my own two hands and my prideful joyous heart and my creativity and imagination and my strong, strong will and my fearlessness and courage and my razor-sharp mind and wit... With all these things... Skills, facilities, natural abilities... I can and will create the future I ever dreamed of living... And I raise it up... And I rejoice in it!

And I realise that I must no longer live my life by proxy or for another's will. And I vow NEVER to do this again! And this Eternal Vow, I raise up high... And I rejoice in it!

And I make the clear and eternal vow to myself and my future perfected self, to do all in my power and abilities to know and to physically manifest my Life's True Purpose, my Heart's True Desire... And this Eternal Vow I raise up high... And I rejoice in it!

And I make the clear and eternal vow to myself and my future perfected self, to spend all my time and energy and money and skills and resources and abilities only in activities which take me as quickly as I can to my Perfected State and my Perfect Life... And this Eternal Vow I raise up high... And I rejoice in it!

And I look up... And raise myself up off the floor... And as I do so, a window cracks and falls away... Down, down, down to the ground below that tall tower in the East wing where I have, for all these years, locked myself away.

And through the space where that window had been... Air rushes in... Whirling, pure, clean air... Followed by the light of the brightest Sun... Pure as crystal... Blue, blue sky... Eternal Delight!

And so, at last, I stir... To the whispers of Real Freedom now becoming me... And a smile breaks out across this saddened, tear-stained face... And the smile broadens until it can be contained no more... Becomes laughter... Expression of sheer Joy... Right in this moment... With these two hands... This body... This Sensuality... This Passion... Courage... Will... This Imagination... Creativity... Sexuality... This Passion-Vitality... This razor-sharp Mind of mine...

And This Heart... This Heart of Aphrodite's Child Renewed... This Venus' Child gone Wild!! Set Free!! Vows to free himself from all conditioning... All differentiation between Pleasure-Pain, Good-Evil, Spirit-Matter, Body-Mind, Night-Day, Dark-Light, Moon-Sun, Male-Female, God-Devil, Demon-Angel, Life-Death, Ego-NonEgo... And on and on... Never-ending... The circle ever was and ever will be... And I restate my Darkness Dedication to be what, in my Heart, it also was and ever will be...

My Dedication to...




Eternal Energy...

Eternal Delight!

And my Dedication is my True Will... And my Dedication is to She who's light is so bright it allows no images or impressions to form at all... Her blinding light which we call Darkness... And She only wishes us to experience Her Pure Joy, Her Love... And I realise this experience is my Heart's True Desire... And I vow to keep my Dedication to my Dark Lady pure and true... to manifest that sweet virginal innocence and purity of Her through all the means at my disposal... Sensual... Creative... Imaginative... Sexual..

Her Passion, Her Desire... Is my Passion, my Desire... And all my Passions and Desires and Loves I will not hide, or censor, or cut off... I will not make restrictions because of 'because'... And I will live my Passion-Vitality strong and proud and vital and true...

In Dedication to Darkness...

In Dedication to You...

[My Dark Lady of Love and Life]

And so the Recreation manifests...

[w/e Sun 13/08/06]
* * *
And so I withdraw myself... Hide myself away... Way up here in the East wing... Top floor... It's cold... In blows an icy wind... There's three rooms I hide myself in... And try to crawl away, hide away... From the voices, all the voices and all that they say... All that I don't wish to hear...

[You should be ashamed of yourself... You should be disgusted with yourself...]

And in one room I erect a temple, a shrine. And I burn candles black as midnight. And my grief drove me to it. My despair drove me to it. I read the books that inflamed my rage, that pointed to a different way. A way that could allow me to grow strong... Proud... Full of rage-turned-energy... Pure-bristling-fiery.

And an act of folly is an initiation.

And I cut my being (which was already cut). And drained the blood (which was already drained). And burnt the words which sealed my fate. And it was a self-initiation... This Darkness dedication. And I was sure, as sure as I could ever be. "What else can there be, but me?... And I'm all alone... No-one here to save me... Except by slavery... When all I wish to be is Free... And just for this, they punish me!"

And me... Separate, separate, separate... Separated! Revelled in my new-found strength. Embraced the pain and so it became... Friend... Trusted... Unlike all those who would betray me... Again... Again... Betray... Use... Misuse... Abuse!

Anger... Rage... Blood boiling... Fire ignited by pain... Kept aglow by ignorance of fools who feel they can tell me when and where and how... And, above all, why!

[Because of the end of 'because'...]

The 'why' is MY domain! To define within MY mind, MY own belief! And MY dedication... To this... It's FREEDOM!... Freedom pure and true! It's this! MY Life! And it makes my Life aright... And I have no need for any more than this.

And the fire cackles... The energy bristles... And I strut, proud peacock, encaged... In these three rooms on high. Freedom? I think I've found it! But... I peer out of these gloomy windows, and see more... See a whole world out there... And I didn't experience it, so I couldn't know it... And again I'm sad... Realise I'm really afraid of it.

Yes, that's the bottom line: FEAR! Fear of pain, that thing I misbelieved I'd befriended... All an illusion, that locked-away freedom. Just a mistake. And it is fear: fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of guilt, fear of shame.

So should I now learn to embrace all these too? How can I pull myself out of this dark, dark space? Trapped here in this darkened room...



And all I wish to do, is find my way out into the light and air. Relinquish this path of Hermit. Embrace a new role. A new way of being. [Warrior-Lover-Fool!] Living joyfully, in each moment. Taking whatever comes and dedicating all to learning, growing, becoming all I can become. Becoming TRULY Free. Not just an illusion as I have lived while tucked away within these walls. But something solid. Real. True!

And I vow to strengthen, and venture forth as last from this dark tomb.

And the dissolution begins...

[w/e Sun 06/08/06]
* * *
So lost and alone
Overcome with grief

Raped at base &
Raped at head?

Raped at heart!
Raped at heart!

He said
He said



Aphrodite's Child gone wrong
Venus' Child: Awry! Awry!




Humpty Dumpty's
falling Apart
not sure he'll ever
get put back together
not sure he'll ever
get back to the start



I sat and cried and cried... Tears of blood... Tears of pain and grief... I cried and cried... Curled up in a ball... Foetal... Worthless... Helpless... Small.... Until my tears were dried and I could cry no more.

And then the anger... Then the rage... Betrayal... Betrayal... It was clear... And I could never trust again... Only fear... Only fear... And I shut the door... Locked it... Threw away the key... And all the loathing of without... Became self-hatred, self-doubt.



Who's the thief?
Who's the thief?

Who stole the years of joy and beauty?
Who stole the key and refused entry?



And I have experienced ongoing bliss and I have experienced ongoing pain. Again. Again. Never-ending. Both the joy and the pain. And I have felt as if I were being torn apart. This battle raging on inside. This battle between day & night. Light & dark. Woman & man. Child & parent. Individual & whole. God/the devil. Demon/angel. And the battle ongoing. Never-ending. And the circle. And the serpent. And the seasons. And the infinite. Ongoing. Never-ending...

And the pain spewing out the joy...
And the joy swallowed by the pain...
Again... Again...

And I have been confused. Frustrated. And there has been no-one in this house to talk to. And nobody has understood it. And I have been alone, alone, confused. And all the voices of those who came to me here. The voices that came to give me commands, to give me orders, to make me obey them. Punished me for noncompliance, made me afraid, as if my life depends upon it. Do Our Will! Do Society's Will! Do God's Will! And we will protect you. And we will care for you. And we will provide for you. And whenever I questioned it: Crash! Whenever I challenged it: Bash! Whenever I showed an ounce of strength: Smash! Whenever I showed even the smallest self-will: Crunch! Down to the ground they pushed me. Again. Again. The faceless ones. The watchers. The voices. The accusers. Made me feel wretched, small, lost, alone, abandoned, helpless, powerless.

And so I have gone, day by day, year by year. Learning through applied conditioning, entraining, brainwashing. And my Will they sought to break more and more. And my grief rose more and more. And this helplessness grew more and more.

Alone. Tired. Weak. But still I have had some fight. And I have had some self-will. And I have had some joy, some ecstasy. I have had that which I truly loved: music, art, beauty, colour, light, sound, movement, dance, creativity, sexuality, imagination. Energy. Energy. Energy!

And so I would lose myself in these things whenever I could. My escapism. And I would daydream. Over and over. And lose myself in those daydreams, fantasies. And it was my escapism. And I withdrew from the pain of this world (and so from its ecstasy too). But it was my way of coping. Even though they said that I was really running. But running from what, from who? And I didn't believe it really mattered. Because it was my joy and I lived it by my self-will. And that will be the seed of my release (not yet manifested, not yet nurtured, but the viable seed still).

But that is all yet for my future, and even I don't yet know it. For now I am made to feel that my daydreaming is escaping, running. And, above all, COWARDICE! And the voices chanting this in unison have made an energy and a force bigger than what I have yet to believe and manifest my own to be. And so they have over-powered me here, and kicked me down and made me submit to their twisted ideas and plans and definitions of who I am and what I can be. And they say my running is cowardice. And I have believed it (even though it is the seed of my imagination and my freedom). And they say my emotionality and my sensitivity is my fragility and my weakness, and I have believed it (even though it is the seed of my intuition and the spark of my creativity and sexuality and my freedom). And they say that my stubbornness and my self-will is my awkwardness and my anger and my hostility and my inherent badness and evil, and I have believed it (even though it is the seed of my pure Will, my self-will, my self-awareness and my very essence and life-force and my freedom).

But all this is yet to come. For now there is only contradiction...

[w/e Sun 30/07/06]
* * *
I was a lonely soul, stricken with grief and lack of self-belief which left me feeling helpless, powerless, forlorn.

I was born in a big rambling old mansion, all gothic darkness and gloom, with long dark corridors and more rooms than I could count, all containing weird and wonderful objects, antiques from home and abroad. The house had four turrets, one at each corner. Everywhere was stone archways, and wooden panelling, and windows smeared with the dust and grime of centuries, long-since sealed so neither light nor air could enter in.

And the house which I had always called home, despite never once feeling comfortable there, was awash with the memories of ancestors, distant and near. I had lived there with my parents since birth to the age of nine. And in that time I had a freedom, an independence, which every child should have, borne of imagination and colour and a delight in nature. But I was an especially lucky child. I had a secret that not everyone can share.

Within one of the lesser-used rooms in that house, in one particularly dark and dusty corner, there stood a huge old wardrobe. And the doors of the wardrobe were of mirror. I remember specifically that first day I explored that room. I saw in the mirror-doors - reflected, reversed - an image of an old mantlepiece clock. And time was reversed in that moment. I was four. And I knew. I knew it was a sign, it had meaning. But what?

Carefully opening the wardrobe doors, I explored inside. No. Nothing. Just grandpa's musty old jackets, all tweedy and moth-eaten. But wait! Behind them! The wall! More oak panelling. But I could feel something else there too. A large cast-iron handle revealed itself. I grabbed it and turned. It was heavy, stiff, at first: it wouldn't budge. But then, it freely turned. And the panel door swung back into a dark void. I peered in. Yes, there was just enough light here for me to see. I was afraid but curious too. And my curiosity won (as it will always do)! I stepped through the threshold into darkness. And a corridor stretched out before me, took me forward. Which soon became a gentle gradient down. Then, whoooossshhh!!! The floor gave way beneath me and I was tumbling. Down, down, down. But I wasn't afraid of the falling. It was more like the free-fall of those sky-divers I'd seen and read about. Exhilarating!

Quite soon that exhilarating fall was arrested. Then I was gently drifting down, drifting to a halt in a wide, wide cavern. Here it was also dark, but my eyes had grown accustomed to this lack of light. And there were people here, and animals too. But none were a threat to me, I intuitively knew it. And I left the cave and explored this world. And it was sunshine and golden. Radiant. Lush. Bright. Bathing me in joy and laughter and delight. And I felt calm here, at peace. I felt more at home here than I'd ever felt anywhere before (or since). And I met many good friends here. And I explored and explored to my heart's content.

But eventually, my stomach rumbled and I knew I must return (but knowing too I would return here many times again). A hawk came swiftly by, lifted me gently up and flew me back home, back through the cavern and up the long dark corridor from where I came. Walking back through the threshold, I pulled the panel door shut behind me, stepped out of the wardrobe and closed its doors. And the time on the clock: it read the same as when I'd left.

For the next four years I was able to access that secret wonderland, that paradise, whenever I desired. And even despite the unpleasant things that happened to me sometimes, I could always return to that place to enjoy that bliss, or else lose myself in the memories of it otherwise.

But, shortly before my ninth birthday, something happened, something changed. I, even still, can't recall the what or why. But the change was huge and far-reaching. That wardrobe, although still there, whenever I opened the wardrobe door - the threshold beyond, that panel door, was gone! And my parents too were gone! And I was left alone, abandoned, my security all of a sudden stripped away. My paradise stripped away. Alone. Alone. Alone. So lost and alone. Powerless. Helpless. Overcome with grief. Despair. And in my aloneness and despair, all I felt was that I was unloved, unlovable. Then felt unable to give love too. Isolated. Abandoned. Alone.

And this was the instigation of something new...

[w/e Sun 23/07/06]
* * *
the moon hides the sun
this night
yet still you come
shining your radiant
golden warmth
and light
upon my darkness


* * *
* * *
I would say I'm quite a dark character, gothic, byronic, but Byron-gone-wrong. I've dabbled in the occult arts since an early age. Because I always 'sensed' it's the right thing to do. For that reason more than for rebelliousness. That's how I perceive it anyway. And I always wished to be a Mage. And I was a contented child and I believed back then I had a perfect family life. My family were modern-day gypsies: they moved to gain a better life for the family, and so it did for them and me. And I was cocooned in a protective bubble: a virtual reality game of endless fun and adventure and new experiences. A charmed life by anyone's standards!

Just before I turned nine, my family returned to the place of my birth. And I was ripped away from sun and sand and sea, colour, fun, adventure, beauty. Returned to the family home. A big rambling old house atop a hill. All gothic and haunted. There were ghosts in that house! And the emotional and psychological scars of me, my family, my ancestry.

And the house was my prison and I was trapped there. Locked in. Unable to escape. And I've been trapped there 'til a grown man. 'Til almost broken down. And I have tried to end my life. The only sure way to escape. And every night I've slept a fitful sleep. And dreamed I was a bird - a hawk - soaring in wide blue skies, with the sun, radiant, shining, warming my outstretched wings. But that same dream would always end - with the torment of demons and ghosts within.

And I became obsessed at an early age... with freedom... freedom. And tried to find out what it meant. And longed for it. And pined for it. While all the while trapped in that house.

And in all these years secretly have I struggled and worked and struggled and worked to clear my mind of all the influences others have placed upon me - brainwashed me and entrained me. And I made a pact with the Devil to free me, from that house, from their conditioning. And it was an act of folly borne of despair. But folly is the path of initiation, fool! But they never saw that: and they called me fool and beat me down into the ground. Again, again, they beat me down. And I, bloody, battered, bruised - not sure I could rise up one last time - I will become a Mage so powerful that my anger at all that went before will cause me to...

[but silence falls, peace returns]

* * *
the man stood naked, lost, forlorn
arms held limply out before him
showing bloody stumps where hands should be
badly bandaged
blood leaching
soaks the earth

you! thief!
whose hands I cut
what did you steal from me?
my time!

that golden age
and joy
and innocence
stolen all away from me
and so I punished you
I punished you aright

anger! rage! vitriol!
and me the victim
you to make amends

and he just stared right back at me
held that empty space where hands should be
and there was sorrow in his eyes
but bitter were the tears he cried

and do you think I only stole from you?
he asked, catching me right off my guard
when you told me my future was in my hands
only to cut them clean away
and the opportunity you gave with one
did, with the other, smash it all away
and left me powerless, helpless
lost, alone
consumed by the pain of this
endless bloody game

so who's the victim?
and who's the aggressor?

to the victor the spoils
to victor the glory
but who's the victor of this story?

* * *
With these two hands I create my universe... yet someone cut off my hands... and I blamed them... and I showed them... and I expected them to fix it... and they denied it... and they called me weak and fragile... and self-pitying... and I hurt... and it brought me further down... and I was victim.

Yet what does a man do... with no hands with which to build his universe? He uses his tenacity, his cunning, his creativity.

And the realisation that "these two hands" does not mean the physical... it means the strength and desire and will... and the creativity, the imagination.

And these things we all have... unless we choose to give them [ourselves] away.

And I am Victor!


* * *
I've always seen myself as victim... of all that has befallen me... torn out of paradise... thrown back into this... and all the pain and humiliation suffered at the hands of them... and they caused it... and they put me there, they made it... and they didn't stop it... and they were nowhere to be seen or felt... and I was humiliated... and they told me to ignore them and they would stop it... except they didn't... they didn't stop and they didn't make them... and they didn't save me... and that thing that happened... and all the things... but especially that one... and on and on... never-ending...


* * *
there were two men
and I was one


what was the other's name?
he was me
and he had cut off
Victor's hands

and Victor came
and waved his bloody stumps
badly bandaged
dripping blood
upon the earth

'look! look what you've done!'
cried Victor, all victim!
wanted the attention
the recognition

and I just shrugged
remained silent
(was I in denial?)
just ignored him
(was I angry?)


it's all so fucking

thief? thief?
were you the thief?
is that why I cut your hands,
is that why?

and who's the cutter?
who's the cut?
(and how can the knife
cut itself?)

(after dream of sunday night 16/07/06)

* * *
* * *