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    Out of Darkness, Trials and Ordeals

    Trials and Ordeals, Even as a Man in a relationship to the world and the Abrahamic gods, inflict that on each. True, privilege afforded males in this culture is sickening. More sickening when the not men males go unpunished for their offenses. Men, who fight for what is right, their sanity, to push for a good fight, unapplauded, unappreciated, abused and forgotten, being used only for what they can bring to the table, communty, corporations and family, trudge forward. Women as well as men, trudge forward holding on to what is nugget of gold of self, the soul, the essence of self, through all the initiations, trials and ordeals, regardless of the world dragging us through, down all the filth, thorns and scorns. As a man, we are required to do it silently.

    I as a fool of a 14 year old, fasted over 40 days , prayed and asked god for wisdom of Solomon. I got a manifestation, an answer, and told I’d be released in 32 years. The list of small and large calamities I endured, mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually, I have forgotten most of it and who cares. I liken it to a millstone around my neck thrown into the middle of the ocean swarming with monsters, between leviathan like and swarms of flesh and spirit eating beings, and told to survive.

    In Sumerian lore, heroes who dared to use magic, had to endure drowning in the river of Huber, a death or initiation.

    Survival and attainment was not the objective of this god, My death and oblivion was its goal for millenia. And yet, under its’ own geas, my prayers must be answered and fulfilled, as its own promise in its own make up of being a god.

    Thirtytwo years later, I survived, my life achieved a degree of normalcy. The normal hell and damnation that humans suffer, was enjoyed for its normalcy. And then I was able to find and know the actual name, nature and history of this god. A god that sacrifices his own children, his father, and all others in a sadistic theatre of sacrifice more potent than mere human’s worship. Yet still demanding it while setting the patterns of evil abuse in every walk of life of a human to feed even more from. Usurping gods’ names their philosophies and religions with a demon lawyer, and revisionist history worse than any demon can devise.

    I survived. I have kyphosis, scoliosis from that teenage fast, and have pictures to show that I am indeed twisted.

    In that dark nightmare of life, and all of its metaphorical and literal hells that exist while living, prepare us for the beyond. In the absolute darkness and at the edge of oblivion, there, that star, our soul, shines from the beauty of its relationship to the universe that beautiful in every aspect. In that darkness our light and the universe, is the hammer and anvil where we forge our souls. In the cauldron we are purified and poured back into the abyss over and over again. Yet here we are, survivors of trials and ordeals. Then we knowing ourselves and this truth, we see the stars of illumination of other survivors, who become gods, both large and small.

    Women’s trials and ordeals, or anyone’s elses, we were made to feel isolated, alone, and naked against the encroaching dark. When we fail to be blinded by it all, we just have to look into the eyes and the heart of those who are marked by the same initiations from the perspectives of the other side of the universe, to feel the love, admiration and awe of our sisters and brothers born out of this darkness only to carry our own light, and to each admire the light in others. Like Hecate, let us be like torch bearers. All other bringers of light, we shall see them for their truths. One way or another we are all covered in pain and blood.