Nearly five months now, and that is all that has been heard from behind the Crimson Curtain.
Still. Serene. And yes, very deliberate.
Except for my inbox, of course, that has been non-stop screeching. I got it all in one big avalanche on my return. I travel a lot, you see, sometimes spontaneously. I honor the voice within, and if it calls for a sudden retreat, I listen to my old friend. More on what I was doing in a moment, but I do understand that this posting-spurt-schedule that I am on is not conducive to building a monetized website. I’m fine with that. I certainly expect a return for my efforts, but it’s not my primary aim here to raise a cash cow.
It never has been…although that will have to change in the future…
LOL, “There is no charge, for awesomeness, or attractiveness”.
Yeah, bitches! You never thought I’d quote fucking Kung-Fu Panda. Woot. 😛
LOL, my personal favorite was a flame message that just said: “fuck u ok u racist son of bitch hoe!!!!!”
LOL, you do realize I like your hate, right? Its tasty. It keeps me warm, covered as I am in cold, dead hookers all night long….
Anyway, Many of you have been wondering what has been going on. Some of you were polite, and amusingly, some of you were frustrated. Then, some of you even expressed how you felt lost, and alone. I assume that most of you thought the Curtain fell. Rest assured, as long as I am breathing, this site will continue.
Trust me, I may stumble, but you’ll never see me fall from grace, even those of you who want it. 🙂
Some of you even expressed concern, and clearly from the messages, it was genuine, asking if I was okay. I was touched by that, it was something I didn’t really expect. After all, this is a Darkworking site, we have no inherent obligation to each other. It is simply understood. And, while I would consider it rude for a face-to-face, in-real-life, student to not check in, from an internet audience, I was pleasantly surprised. In retrospect, I should have known better. The truth is, we’re in a gigantic circle-jerk, you and myself. Now, I say this partially to be a crass ass-clown, but also to be honest. In short, I’ve come to care a great deal about my readers, most of whom I’ve never met. This is a gigantic leap for me, if you knew me better, you’d understand I suppose. Hell, most of you aren’t even Polarized, but you want to be, and I have nothing but love. That is why I enjoy getting friend requests and getting a chance to see who you are – and that caring is what set off this entire absence in the first place…
In early September, I received an email that, at first glance, was like many others. It was a request for clarification, teaching, instruction. It was filled with yearning, a clinging to hope, a belief that he could do better for himself if he could just find the way. And, he didn’t really offer anything I would value in return, so I was disinclined to respond. There was a lot of self-pity in the email, my primary litmus test for telling if someone is indeed not Polarized, one way or the other. Normally, I just don’t work with the non-Polarized, personal rule. In this case, though, something in me wanted to reach back, so I did. We messaged back and forth a bit. Dear gods, he was only about 20 years old. He was actually a good kid, just down on his luck, really. He lived in a small town, and with the lumber yards closing down, he had been unemployed for a while. There was a live-in girlfriend in his life, but having been cheated on twice in a row, he was having difficulty opening up and trusting, causing issues there. Some drug issues in an attempt to compensate, leading only to more problems. In short, if you liken the psyche to a car, he was clearly a busted out Volvo, with a rusted out chassis and a blown out engine. Lot of work to be done.
I tried to work with him on getting a job, and starting a yard-raking thing on the side for “now money”. Also tried to go back and do some healing-from-past-hurt work to help his current relationship. Pretty standard stuff. Helped him research to find a substance abuse program. And, I encouraged him to find some sort of local counseling overall – it was clear the kid had no support system, no parents, family, friends, and needed more on a mental-health level than I was prepared to provide. But, like so many others, he didn’t want to be medicated and didn’t trust the field of psychology. No dice. I was about to move at the time, and in talking, realized he would kind of be on my way. I honestly didn’t think much would come of it, I didn’t figure he would succeed, but I thought why not reach out to a fan and have a quick stop on the road at the same time, yeah? I set something up for a few weeks down the line.
Obviously, we never made the appointment together.
A little over a week later, I get an email from him, but written by his girlfriend. She mass-emailed it to everyone in his contacts, otherwise, I would not have known. Turns out, he had actually gone out and started getting people to pay him to rake yards. Unfortunately, on his way back one night, someone decided he was a good mark and tried to rob him. Even more unfortunate, I think our sessions were starting to work. His self esteem was improving. For whatever reason, he decided to stand up for himself. I guess he figured the rake had more reach than the knife, I don’t know. His reward for his new jump into self-love was to be stabbed six times. Bad time to forget to apply the Third Axiom (Restrain Yourself as you Pursue Individual Desire). No one knows for sure, but he laid there and bled out for quite a while. Apparently, no one noticed the attack. In a very clever and pre-humus valor move, he managed to throw the rake and alert people inside a house. They called 911. He died in transit to the hospital.
My first feeling was that this could be a scam, hoax, or stunt. I pulled the newspaper and confirmed the obituary. I emailed back and got a phone number, called the girlfriend. Her tone, inflection, and understated grief got me to thinking this could be genuine. I wouldn’t be able to make the funeral, but she said I should stop by anyway, there was something she thought I should see. So, I did. I met her and she took me to their “unit” in this section of government housing. The place was a real shit-hole, but it made me nostalgic for my childhood, it was covered in that faux-wood paneling you only see in projects and trailers. It smelled like ass (not just their place, but the whole building), roaches crawled around, and they didn’t even have furniture to speak of – a couple stools and a futon mattress. It was a tenement if I’ve ever seen one. The air was thick with desperation and regret, fear and scarcity. She was clearly tweaking. Oddly, I realized in that moment that she liked him, but didn’t love him…and that he was truly alone in the end. For a moment, I reasoned I was probably invited to illicit sympathy and then get hit up for drug money.
Angry, I demanded she show me what she wanted me to see, and she quickly walked over and opened the blinds. Light poured into the place. At first, I sighed, because I couldn’t see anything. But then I noticed. I saw it, on the wall, around the bed. It was faint, so faint, and I had to move my head from side to side to get the light to refract and draw it out. It was almost hidden.
My words. Scribbled. Haphazard. Disorganized. But, copious. Verbatim.
I stood in stunned silence. I am Asmoday’s cold sweat.
I was later told he was too broke to afford paper. He would go to the library, browse my articles, memorize pieces, steal a pencil, come home, and scratch them out on the wall. And, when I finally saw one line that wasn’t mine, “I will be a Prince. I deserve it.”, I started to cry. With my finger, I pointed and asked her to make it dark again. She did. We cried together. I tried to ask her about him, to learn more. She was overwhelmed, and wouldn’t say much.
“He was quiet,” she did say, “even when we were fucked up, he was quiet,”.
Then, I felt the energy between us shift. That sick feeling in my stomach, that yellow, fuzzy taste of neediness in my mouth. Sure enough, she asked me for money. Briefly, I thought about hurting her. Then, as the apartment came back into my consciousness, I realized the world would torture her sufficiently, without my intervention. I told her she could have it, if she would let me blog about all this, and with a condition of anonymity, she agreed. I left, laughing, with weak knees and a kind of hollowness in my voice.
Thus, I will simply call him Everyman.
That, my friends, is “what happened”.
Everyman died, so that the Experiment could truly live.
But, I saw a part of all this coming…to tell the whole story…I have to back up, broaden out.
In terms of my own development on the path, I am a very, very late Magus. I am literally sitting on the threshold to Prince. The interesting part is, I’ve been sitting on the Threshold for about three years. Literally, sitting there, looking through the doorway. Content. Observing. My development is somewhat imbalanced, because in terms of knowledge and skill, I’ve far surpassed Magus, but in terms of Self-Love and Identity, I’ve simply been hovering in front of the door. This isn’t fear, its foretelling in action – my intuition has told me it was simply not time. This does happen, I’ve seen it before. The reason is because the movement through that Threshold is preceded by something called the Deepening. To understand what that is, I have to talk about Creation as you move along the path. As an Apprentice, you are creating Self in relation to Not-Self. As a Warrior, you are creating Self in relation to Other. In Magus, you are now broadening out and creating Self in relation to Society (small-scale). Think of it like a Playboy, tottering around the globe, entertaining yourself with your newfound power, moving people like Marionettes. It’s a subtle, but experientially powerful distinction between Magus Creation and Prince Creation. A Magus is creating conditions for experience, that have some sort of stimulus-response reward, like building a company and amassing wealth, or fucking lots of people, or winning sweeping victories over enemies, and most likely, all of the above. Now, on the path, you’re always creating in all of these ways, its about where your main focus lies. But, in Prince, Self-Love deepens to a point of the Darkworker wanting to invoke Creation at a much higher level – to make the world in his/her own image. To put it simpler, the Magus wants to win the game, while the Prince wants to CHANGE the game itself. So, the Prince is Creating Self in Relation to World. This transition is proceeded by the Deepening, an experience of a resonant, true call to the Inner Core of the Darkworker. These changes that the Prince moves to create are called the Flourishing. And, these changes are the direct result of the Identity that is revealed in the Deepening – the Prince seeks to express the Self, experienced there, as a stamp on the world, a mark of Godhood, a Flourishing.
Hence, why I sat/sit at Magus – I had to manifest/create my own Deepening.
I’ve finally had it, and it is literally beyond description. Of all the experiences I have had, the ecstasy and the despair, the suffering and the rapture, the grime and glory, the martyrdom and murder, the love and hate, the intrinsic blending and assertion of duality, my friends, the list goes on and on, all of it crumbles before the Deepening. I, for all my pedantic rambling, simply cannot describe it.
Now, when I initially created this website, I laid the motivations all out in the “About” section. For me, though, it was really a hobby, a way of honoring my Father, and running an Experiment. Also, it was somewhat of a Legacy – to establish a place where the information was now made available to all, not hidden and secret, that could go on in perpetuity after my death. In short, it was a toy, and a tool to drive my own growth as I began to put lessons down in formal writing. Also, I had many doubts. You see, Darkworking is so personalized, I didn’t know if setting out ways and methods like this would even fucking work. Its something that I have struggled to explain to you…I struggle still. I’ve taught a lot of people, and normally, I’m there in their lives. I watch them, observe, bond, connect. I read their faces. I can tell when they’re lying, even to themselves. I know the hidden passages of their mind and heart even when they don’t – it is my gift. I come to love them. Like everyone, I’ve tried to use that gift for gain, but in a positive way, with my own unique spin. I didn’t know if revealing it in this distant, mass-format would work. But, I knew if it did, it would blow the world wide open, and I wanted to find out. Albeit, in a half-hearted, playful sort of way. Everyman, in his unintentional sacrifice, showed me that it is, indeed, possible, and in one sweeping motion of a set of window blinds, all doubt was removed.
I believe, now. I believe we can free ourselves. I believe self-love is so desperately needed in this world.
I see with new eyes. In Magus, I could taste my Divinity.
As I move to the Throne, I can feel it, like the caress of a lover.
I want to share it with you.
I trust in you. I trust in your pain, your love, your memories, your Godhood.
I trust that we can wake up.
Please hear me – we can create a world of truth, of liberation. I…I can’t do it alone. I admit that to you now. I admit it to myself. In truth, do I now descend.
Here, I challenge this world to reveal Darkwork to all, to know it, use it, accept it, understand it.
I will speak until my voice is gone; type until my fingers are numb. I will honor Everyman. Until I collapse.
He was a future Prince. So was my Father. So are you all. I will not fail you. We will know power. We will know peace. We will know who we really are. We will know our birthright of self-acceptance, and self-love. Never again will we cry for the lost, the lonely. For within, each of us will break our chains, with our own hands. There are none who are powerless.
There are so many problems in front of us now. A planet destroying itself, mired in loathing, scarcity, agony, doubt, ignorance, suffering, and most of all, lies. These are my enemies. I will wipe them from this earth. I don’t believe Lightworkers can solve these problems. I believe Darkworkers are needed now more than ever. Many will reject this notion. I will try to explain, openly and honestly, as best I can. It must be done. I call us to this Work of Truth.
I see so much now. I see my rape, neglect, abandon. I see my suffering. I see my tears. It was all for you, to reach this moment. To reach YOU. We created this in our wisdom, you and I. We must not waste it.
I see now my true purpose. I will liberate my brothers and sisters.
In truth, to do this, to reach my Flourishing, I need your help.
Simply spread the word about the Crimson Curtain, and participate in the Experiment. I understand most of you don’t want to be publically identified, and this I understand. LOL, obviously. But, you don’t have to. Write the address on bathroom walls. Write it on scraps of paper and leave those pieces in random places. Be creative. Get the word out. If you’ve gotten any value from this site, this is what I’m asking you to do now. Help me reach Everyman, like I reached you. I’m not asking much. But, I can’t do this without you. Let us spread Darkworking in the manner it has always been kept, in secret. Can you do that for me? Can you do one more thing? Can you spare a moment to honor Everyman? I would really appreciate it. Lets take a second, together, you and I, and listen to this song below. It is my tribute to him. Lets break the silence, together. I will continue posting, with more posts coming next week. Stay tuned.
And friend request me on Myspace and Facebook. SAY HELLO. LOL.