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Journal of an Occultist




In my journey across the Occult realms, I have been privy to mentors that have driven my ability to the stars and beyond. Through Middle Eastern, Asian, and European styles of magick, I have experienced both the incredulous, terrifying and wondrous. In search of a soul I had lost to fate, I ended up finding mine.


One might say that it is not a very common lifestyle to associate yourself as an Occultist. So I find myself alone in a way, yet surrounded by many, and I have given the unofficial title to people who for all practical purposes demonstrate what I hold as the key qualities of an Occultist, but they do not realize they are among us.


So, here I am, sitting in front of my computer enjoying a century-old glass of half-a-century old wine, reflecting on time, and what it means. Am I immortal? Who is the identity that I refer to as “I”? What is being experienced right now, and who is the one doing the experiencing?


The answers to these questions are contained in the mystery of Enlightenment. Only someone not awake, who ignores the passing of time and tries to fight it, will find any reason to avoid the topic.


I am 50 but am often mistaken for being younger, but with a soul scarred to the rafters. A dead daughter, a second that nearly died in my arms, I have experienced life’s rattling to the core bottom of my soul.


Taking magickal steps to preserve youthful energy, and to delay the inevitable destruction of the outer shell that is my body, helps, of course, the most useful step is to keep a young set of thoughts, that playfulness of absolute youth, but with the sophistication of a 17th-century aristocrat


I think the art of conquering your own mortality is to live life as though you are going to die the next day, but also as if you were immortal. In a way, if you play your cards right, you will be. Your body is a shell that may die; your soul can survive if you want it to. You decide.


If you take your fill of love and lust, live this only life to the fullness of your being here, and now in the physical than that is one way to go. But I tell you, the art of transcending the ultimate barrier has a price-tag which comes with pain, pain, and more pain. And sacrifice.


Maybe that is why most people are ignorant and deluded (they don’t want to know the truth) and why many, many occultists are just into Hedonism, they want to live only once. (They don’t want to experience the truth they already know).


We might all agree that Opiate addiction is an epidemic across the world today. It’s destroyed many thousands of lives and often ended them. It’s thrown people into poverty, wrecked families, and corrupted countless souls. This is a terrible thing. For some of us, it can also sometimes be a wonderful thing. Because this thing is also a her. And she is beautiful.


One of the darker deities I have worked with over the years is The White Lady—the goddess of drug addiction and fatal overdose. By making sacrifices upon her altar, my enemies are ensnared by her seductions and annihilated in slow, humiliating, and agonizing ways. She seduces, she enslaves, she devours. She has no pity. If the grave has a mouth, she is its kiss.


And she really can’t wait to get to know you. But that will have to wait for some other time …


ii-wy em Hotep - Patrick Gaffiero

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