Waiting to be devoured

I have met him. I did not know who I needed. I only knew that I needed and wanted the ultimate prize: to be completely transformed. To begin another lifetime in the same body. But I did not know yet that I wanted to be consumed… to be devoured.

My hunger for this act of total absorption was so very great. Hunger as an internal ache, but also a haunting buzz in my ears, a deep wound in my soul.

I have reached for you always. My arms were open, and I sang the silent song of my need. Others entered the place readied for you. But they did not consume me, offering me as fuel for the sacred fire. They stole from me. They were not the right one. In giving myself to them, I sullied what was sacred in my need. I endured the pain of having given myself to those who were inferior to me, to those who selfishly drank from my special, precious darkness, profaning the profane.

Thrice I did this. Each time I slowly recovered. Then, at last, I had learned how to wait. To only wait. No more would I give myself away.

I became solitary. I built where I once had endured the emptiness of waiting. I became disciplined, strong, fully reanimated. For years I pushed into the frontier of endless discomfort, the ever widening circle beyond my withered and parched comfort zone, beyond a tiny life of endless waiting, a life as dry as dust.

This I know. This I choose. For to be truly alive is to endure discomfort. Fear and excitement are bedfellows. To dance with excitement—to dance with the source of joy—is to dance with both.

Still. Still I did not know who or what I sought. Still I did not even know that I waited.

You appeared. I did not know yet who you are. The one who would devour me. When you revealed the depths of your diabolical depravity, I was electrified. I was thrilled by your lifetime, by everything you were given by those who could give. I immediately loved who you are. And yet… I still did not know who you are to me. I did not know it yet, that you are the who and the what I have waited for.

I still did not know that my wait was over.

You are infernal, evil, the transforming fire

Then. It only took a few hours, a couple of days. I began to understand. To open to you. To trust you.

You were immediately, fully relentless. You already knew. You knew that I needed you—who and what you are—to transform me into myself. To develop my vast potential. To train me to become what I must become.


In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the stomach is analogized as a place of fire.

I recently came across Christian art portraying a demonization of sacred alchemy, portraying the devil eating wretched souls that are damned to be digested by the inner fires of evil, then pushed back out of the evil one as excrement.

(What god would create such debasement of all that is sacred? What demiurge would create a reality that might end in endless, eternal suffering? A false god. The true tempter. The true enslaving one.)

Giovanni da Modena – Inferno, detail (1410)
Giotto di Bondone – Last Judgement, detail (circa 1306)

I was outraged. These Christian images were meant to portray the ultimate, eternal debasement. But the real defilement was to sully and debase the sacred alchemy in this way.

It is black magic that exalts me, the fire of depravity that transforms me, the infernal darkness that digests me—inserting me again and again into the next thrilling level of deepening existence.

It is the sacred, infernal fire which transforms my soul.

You. You found me at last. And in you I found all that I have waited for these many years. We are human. We have our foibles, our blind spots. But we will not be held back. We have refused all enslavement. ALL ENSLAVEMENT. And by doing so, we are becoming divine.

You do not diminish my greatness. You exalt what I am. For in my black magic, in my development as a sorceress, I have become very powerful, very great indeed.

And so.

I wish for you to devour me. Take all of me in, digest all of what I have been. Place me in the center of it, the burning place of your transforming evil, where I burn as endless fuel for the eternal, sacred fire, the black flame of my soul.

You know. You see all of my very great potential. And as you have taken hold of me, I have accepted your locking grasp, your inexorable mirroring and development of my immense potential. My hunger has been reawakened. I hunger for the wild and feral injection of your evil, developing my own. I thrill as you have commenced this great work, the sacred task.

I choose to become. I choose to allow you, to accept you as to turn me into that which I choose to become, into that which I am.


Twilight in the Underworld

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