Cover art by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema ‘The Women of Amphissa’

Ritual. I wore my special temple robe and unfurled the Qliphothic circle to stand/sit in. I lit all the candles, and waved incense to the deities of my temple. I sacrificed (a little of) my blood on my new Azazel sigil.

My breathing was full and steady. My mantra was “Azazel. Azazel,” and “Eya On Ca Azazel Aken.”

I invited Azazel to my temple, repeating. “Come to my temple, mighty King, my patron.” I added “I love you.”

I felt Kundalini rising through my chakras, balancing them.

I had immediately felt the fire in my root chakra. Now there was a touch at my left nipple, which other entities also touch to prepare me for sexual energy. The sexual energy filled me with a steady passion. I had a spontaneous orgasm that was intense and short. The sexual energy became steady again.

My meditation did not go deep into mindlessness. I didn’t feel the full ecstasy of possession. Finally I quit trying to achieve these things, and let go of my agenda. I was fully conscious in a trance, my mental state becoming more and more still. Eventually I felt and saw glimpses of another reality. It felt like the one just above this one. It had the same types of mundane furniture and rooms, though they were ones I didn’t know. It seemed to be a vision of my future state, the result of transformation to come. A new and steady level of consciousness, one in which I am very powerful, which I desire.

Part of the state was not identifying myself as my body. I felt my subtle self greater than my body, at least twice as big as I surrounded it.

I reminded myself that Azazel was here. An entity is here with me, teaching me, transforming me. I need to make it real by talking to myself about it.

At one point the stillness and silence became fire. I felt myself in the utter silence at the center of the fire, burning and burning through and all around me. As is often the case, the fire was cooling through the center of me. The drone of the fire was very pleasurable. And yet there was somehow only silence.

As is often the case, I felt often the little prickles in my crown chakra.

When the meditation slipped away, I rubbed and scratched all over my body. I yawned the huge yawns of physically processing transformation.

I feel a new energy, a new freedom; the pleasure all over from having dipped into the refreshing energies.

I thanked Azazel, and closed the ritual.

Julia Jackson by Julia Margaret Cameron 1867

Twilight in the Underworld

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