After 25 years, Samael’s lessons in my life are done. Severity. Satan is not something that inspires great thinkers or religions, and as my dear friend once said, “You can only go so far with Samael until you go mad.”
He has been the root of much of my madness, my suicide, my self-hate, and in by removing him from my life, I finally grew a spine.
I asserted ego.
I said “No.”
With the best of serpents, crush it’s head.
A thing I never tell anyone, but anyone with two brain cells or a bit of knowledge or gnosis can grasp, is that Samael long ago betrayed all his brothers and made a pact with the unnamebale. The Thing. Apep. The Uncreation. It is why he is hunger. It is why he is perverse death. It is why he is evil. It is why he is the root of everything wrong in this world. That first fall, that first merging with the Void, Apollyon, Apep, the Thing, the Blank, the Gray. Frozen nothing. Choronzon. The Devourer.
Satan never came disguised as an angel of light to me. I think that was the whole point. I would cry to Michael from the age of 12 on about Samael’s torments, begging him to save me, from the rape and nightmares and molestations and abuse and madness. But they never stopped. It wasn’t Michael’s call.
I had to say no.
I had to learn to love the Thing.
That which is irredeemable, that great Death and Dragon that will plunge into the fiery lake and lose at the End of Days. In my small world, I locked him in the Pits and sealed his fate and said: I love you, but I cannot save you, and you are not anything I want to be, anything I want to be with, and you do not deserve redemption. The Thing can feel coveting, yes, but not love. Not life. Not a heart. Never a heart. I am that heart, but I am my own person, and I am damn sick of suffering for Satan. There is a reason no one prays for Satan. Why all religions condemn him.
Condemn all demons.
Life does not end happily with demons in it. They feed off you. Use you. Abuse you. May give you earthly riches, but at what cost?
Joining the Thing. Being eaten like shit by a fly. Becoming one of the Legion. Twisted death, not the death of Michael, but the venom of God.
It has it’s place, don’t get me wrong, but I am done playing both sides. I choose love. I choose service unto others. Belief in beauty, and truth, and worth, and soft things, and fragile flowers, and creeping things, and nature, and hickory guitars, and time enough for music, and space enough to grow redemption, and not the twisted vine Samael planted but the Tree Michael tends.
That’s the thing about War. It eventually ends. And if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything. Take Samael for example. Take Asmodeus. Take Beelzebub. Take Lilith. They stand for nothingness. For seven deadly sins. For self-worship, for pride. Themselves. That is nothing like me. I have been offered countless times wealth and power and fame and success and all earthly wonders if I were to just ask Samael of it.
I never asked, and thus, the world could have been mine, but I have the power to shape reality in my own way.
You don’t make bargains with the Thing. Fine, go ahead. The Thing will ruin you. You will live a cursed life, a half-life, and everyone pays their dues, even Sam.
The thing about Christ: he won. He will win. Love always wins. And he heals me, while Sam hurts me. Sacking Sam, he put up no fight. Just disappeared into the air. Now I can work miracles. I can raise the dead, in the most beautiful of ways. I can heal myself. I can enter into the True Mysteries, not playing around in the muck of the Sitra Ahra and poisoning myself until I thought hate was love.
When Christ marked me with a double vesica piscis in April, it was a gateway to unfathomable mysteries. The next step in the holy mysteries. I passed Samael’s test. I hold no love for him anymore. Love for evil, for the Damned, had it’s place, but then it is ashes of the corrupt in the wind.
Then you raise your banner, and you fight the Thing, and you triumph.
I am done trying to dream evil happy. I am half sick of shadows. I am full done with the Adversary. Look at the people that work with these energies. Pick one that is healthy or remotely successful. That isn’t broken.
Demons are corrosive, Satanic and Luciferian paths are jokes. There’s a reason they’re a tiny fraction of a fraction of a decimal. With gods, with angels, with Christ, you don’t have to pour your energy and life force to get tit for tat. Gebo, a gift for a gift, rings true, and devotions matter, but nature is an altar, nature is God, and God is boundless gifts and true wealth, the wealth of the Prince of Peace.
I am poor in the eyes of the Prince of this World. But I am rich in love. And I no longer give him my love. I would damn anything aligned with the Thing. I would damn selfishness and untrammeled uncontrolled ego and choosing to stand for the self alone, for nothing, for trying to destroy God’s works and not bowing down out of love of the Covenant.
I know the ending to Samael’s story: nonexistence. He becomes absorbed by the Thing which he abuses to his own ends.
The Thing devours its master, in the end.
Christ wins. Michael wins. Buddha wins. The gods win. God wins.
Death is conquered.
I choose to stand for everything. I am done romancing Pandora’s box. I am sick of Eve. I am sick of these facsimile masks I wear, though I be Whore, let me at least be the Magdalene or Jophiel. Scratch that, let me just be human.
I want nothing Satan has to offer.
I want the Thing in the fiery lake.
I want he corrupted by the Void to lose, but then, scripture has already said everything I am saying.
Snakes are slippery things.
But lions hold true.
Choose wisely, mi amors.
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