Who Am I? What Am I? Stonefireairwaterspirit

by Occult Fan

The mangled corpse of a wrong blog

The intensity which I possess is powerful indeed.

I’m wincing still as I listen to my self express this power.

It is wasted.

I am editing my OFRH. For the clip show for the weekend show for the bronze level listeners.

You listen here. It is excruciating.

I am made of many forces. I’ve led an interesting life full of unique to the common person experiences which all culminate in this as-of-yet uninitiated individual’s awareness is just having a TIME swimming in this new information, while becoming aware that one is part of an awareness itself and disregarding this as extemporaneous to one’s true self-advancement as a mortal animal evolved to become a rational being.

I feel a fire inside. So potent. I know I am powerful.

To focus, to learn to focus, to cultivate the dreamstate plans we all hold from the ether plane and then begin to manifest… well, let me tell you. I began to manifest my radio show. Have a plan set up for subscribers, forums, helpful advice, recipes even for sake.

So it’s actually a sort of shock to feel my self recoiling to listen to what I am hearing when my own voice comes through.

This is intense, to feel the different planes of existence. See. I have this need to be understood and felt, so I am clear about so much, because frankly, the very experience itself interests me and is what I feel compelled at the very same time to express my self best with as it does in of itself resonate with that efficacy inbuilt, so I use it.

My energy, at the time I am recording, I recall all three days, just, feeling so natural, it felt so nice to be so intimate, just let loose. And then I heard what had come out. Ever get really drunk and stoned and coked out and then done any other number of mind-altering drugs, like television, pornography, video games, bus stop advertisements, and cereal boxes filled with more poison than to kill a moose, it felt so good just to let loose, but…

I have got some intense shit in some parts of me that when a different part comes, and this is directly without needing to finish why initiation of some sort is necessary. Consider it a contemporary non-ashkenazi/sephardic et al triskadectaexpialidocious, less chairs, what-not.

So the truth be told, I freaked my self out, I made my self almost curl in to a ball, I almost vomited, and at some points I had to stop editing, and even at others when I kept to the millstone, I just cropped and cut and cut and cut cut cut. That felt better. Cutting MUSIC and WORDS feels good. Please retain your cutting to these and veggies, and finely grown buds. Mmm. So.

It feels good to be intimate, but holy crispin glovers golden 14th. I just can’t even fathom who how what I am still. And this is so personal. I’m putting this out there in the awareness that there are good, evil, and neutral forces. It’s a game, and it’s real, it’s a war, and it’s a salvational evolutionary state, and then there’s the whole idea of ‘winning’.

See, I’ve been steeping my self in some awareness enhancing material as one is wont to do, and still without having joined any rituals or lodges what-so-ever, so fresh am I here, that the very nature of my having donned the Occult Fan mask now seems to be fate.

I don’t use that word lightly, although, I do. Too often off ten I find my self being mercurial and quite capable of moving in many directions at one time, yet I am intensely powerful. Many people are powerful, I’m just… The Budding Awareness sort. I am quick to be honest about this, for it wastes time in growing to delay truth path awareness techniques.

I am proud in one light that I am even starting these projects, to build is to create is to be a real steadfast individual. To contain one’s geburah is to increase one’s skill over self, to be able to walk both the right and elft hand path is always an immediate concern especially when taking in to concenr one’s awareness of Sevan’s teaching of not only how all is self …and that is where the concept of ‘Wholeness’ comes from… that also the be balanced is truly the best position.

CERTAINLY MY FEROCIOUS AT TIMES GROWLS expresses my anger and frustration and discontent, but besides this achieving a merely ecstatic masturbatory relief, it defers true satisfaction in overcoming the seeming obstacle which is merely sand which needs shifting in the core of my consciousness.

Other individuals may do as they may do, it merely comes back to be them, now one must also be aware that is one the physical plane. If another is invoking magic, and especially if you believe in their magic and your magic and magick in general, then one is wont to pay attention to planets and protection and propitiation. One would do well to learn to propitiate for no reason at all, yet

I return to that one, I know not to what these forces if they are such are

that who they are may be something far beyond original suspicion

that lived gnosis and actual practical power are the only real powers as they are the only to manifest in malkuth

YET as Sevan made clear, we are all ascending OR descending ‘the ladder’. My question is too, what realm are we in. Is the electronic itself an awareness, and then too to what extent, and then further, what is man, woman, where did we come from, far more than obvious JFK/911/other occult sacrifices, I mean, I can feel the bloodlust.

I can’t and won’t lie, where so many will. I suppose NvD was on to something, yet, to be so bold, auspiciously transparent to these concepts… hence why if you heard my now taken down first (second) radio show, and my other too, I make it clear that my own imagination is captured by this. Why lie? Well, because the inversionists would.

I don’t want to disappoint anyone, but I’m pretty sure the whole damn truth movement is a carte blanche industry which can fire and hire more clones than can die from a CIA op like The Jonestown Massacre. It like, doesn’t matter at this point, Levenda made this clear.

What it is is to be hip to what is now, and see who else out there really is about what finding the highest truths are, not just the august fraternities of olde, but of fresh new young blood of those who are out there looking for the real magic, the deepest magic. It does not reside in those halls. It resides right here.

As a author/blogger pointed out to me once, “Any secret society that can do anything for you these days isn’t taking people in off of the street”. And I’m sure he means even more than the red lodge levels – But who knows. I am very trusting of this individual so I do not think he is in any of these lodges himself nor do I think he would be attempting to be misleading with this statement.

Even despite the cultural programming, it is up to us to debug ourselves from the virtriolic speech, the bursts of rageful raors, the lack for self control which is replaced by self-mastery, which is the only battle, the initiate surely knows, that, and the awareness of the water in which we swim. Surely, those two pillars are a good starting point.

I’m a seminude Shakespearean model. Just kidding. About the semi. So, I will keep being strange, exotic, eclectic, eccentric, and evokative. Even if I feel embarassed about embracing certain planes whilst in another plane, whence possibly back to that plane shouldn’t I find my self embracing the same madness, I wonder what then I shall think of this self now, reflecting from my lupine’s quicksilver’n eye… gazing hungrily deep past my reservations of any modesty or decorum or social niceties, no… just let the madness follow through you, the conduit is the connection for ecstasy and gnosis.

All the same, I innerstand the hurt some can feel, how sensitive one is can be online, especially. When I say I want to have my great life, I do, and I want a tribe and kingdom of great people around me. I don’t know if I want to be King, but I do like being a tribal elder, amongst other elders, living in a harmonious and agreed upon way free of the old ways of the Lost, filled with the ways of the new, of those who are Becoming.

We know.

Somehow, we know.

This is the adventurous. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. Not in my radio show. Not for being fierce, if unapologetically uncouth. I am still adapting, growing, and will not forsake my quest to be in total balance and in peace of self. Nothing matters, does it? Are you going to overthrow everything? Not alone. I am still working through the craziness my self. No need to lie. Just listen to my show. I’m still ‘out there’ but I am also cogent.

And I am courageous. And I do care. I don’t think that the silence of a nation to your symbolic sacrifice makes it alright, and that makes us on opposite sides of a line. Now maybe willing sacrifice is ok, coz, I mean, I’m out to lunch, so I’m suddenly like, what is true, what is not true? And yet I feel a burning virtue. What is programming?

They won’t know, if feels good to be this way, btu what is it? The Artist. Creating. Nothing more nor less, mostly sometimes though always through the veil of the fogging glass creates me. Well, that isn’t really the point. This is just an adventure in uninitiated words. I’m loose. Sloppy. But to others, I’m sure I’m right, tight, and living it to the max.

I don’t know. I’m just… ‘giving in to destiny’ right now. I know I am made of the right stuff for many cool positions, and that I have a lot of work to do in those areas, radio host, musician, writer, live poet (as opp to dead), and even actor, model, photographer, tarot creator, and I’m not excluding some sort of erotica, while I’m in shape. Certainly not now.

Also I have the weirdest propensity for some to think I’m quite mad, those surely that is but a passing phase of the moon they are confusing me for, at least, the way I choose to operate at times allowing the spirit to move me in the ways that a poet do, the free music of a star man, the ace of spades in the midnight pitchblack rain playing the sweet sound of infinity without boundary or center, just all sound and midnight rain.

While I find myself sitting on the park bench the keenest electric spark begins to grow up the base of my spine, and the way that I’m sitting becomes rapidly pins and needles excruciatingly uncomfortable, but before being able to adjust posture, a snake made of lightning coiling around a twin snake of equally hot lightning has rushed arching zapping stretching prickling peeling up my vertebra right in to my hypothalamus and pituitary gland and out my crown chakra and third eye while shooting in other streaks repeating down the front of my chest past my fluttering steaming confused excited heart right through my pulsing vibrant tan-tien cooking away through my illustrious decadent fantasies and emotionally satisfying eros steam dripping down between your legs right to the root chakra where the snakes hiss back to the coccyxean holes to return to their mysterious origin, likely where flame goes to hide once it’s done burning… where lightning returns to whence Zeus is done thwarting.

Well, I have a few hours before bed. Looks like I’ll finish editing the end of show 2 and start on the last one, 3. Be strong my anticipatory heart. I am still just beginning here.