|
I was a Satanist, and only a very young Satanist at the time. In the time that I was one, I found more power, and I had to remain insidious. I basically put demonic influence into my enemies' lives, causing sickness, disease and cancer. Two years into the craft, self-taught, I had a lot going for me. I stood close by The Satanic Bible, and seeking all the esoteric concepts of metaphysics I could get my hands and mind on. Since I didn't belong to any true coven, I was my only true one man coven. I called my own shots. I wasn't in the craft for answers; only knowledge and power. I also enjoyed being evil for the sake of being evil. I don't think there is anybody as openly honest as I will be. The only thing that held me together were my convictions, and with it I learned true power only comes from truth, and sometimes by hate. But I was always justified by faith, by my faith. By grace are you saved by time's trials. Through all the reading, studying, practicing and by my actions, I was able to change myself. There was only one downfall. I didn't commit myself to a Satanic brotherhood, nor did I find any. I needed a group, a coven of experts. It was as if the devil wasn't close enough in my life. I knew what I had, I knew what I was doing, I knew where I wanted to be, but I could only see the horizon and nothing more. Too young, too soon; not ready, but talented. I have no shame. Shame holds you back. I knew I was badly good, and what made me better than most was wise in my own way, and was only getting wiser. There was no difference same, than from my sane shame than that of a bright Satanist. Even when I was bright I was dark; when I was dark I was bright.
Out of all the people that I hurt, and out of all the families that I cast asunder, "To all, their own. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Where did I have mercy? Non, but only in truth did I show mercy. Remember I said I was a Satanist held together by convictions. A young one.
Did I ever have a problem telling or letting others know who I truly was? Well, yeah. I had every right reason to stay hidden, both in action and in force. I didn't totally live in a world where the occult was the general consensus, and it still really isn't. I didn't have a problem letting others, other than my family, "know" I was simply a shaman. Latently put, I loved nature and understood things in a different way and navigated through life in a different way than most.
The circumstances I had with my family were reasons in themselves, in their own worldview, pertinent as to why I couldn't tell them anything.
On the outside I seemed like a clean cut figure, but my true-self was deceiving. I was well programmed, and I lived right next door.
I didn't have anything against others, except that I was a little impatient with those who weren't as hungry as I was. I was the kind of "pagan" that liked to cut straight to the chase, "Ok, the camels nose is in the tent, but before we know it the whole camel will follow." I knew eventually if I wanted true power and get closer to the truth of the matter, of the craft, I would be and become a dark pagan: a Satanist. Unless, if I chose to stay a sleepy, warm fluffy pagan, I was getting nowhere. Again, to all their own. I simply seeked the truth in things. I wasn't going to lie to myself. People's lives are generally imperfect and messed up to begin with, so I sought it to see fit, that if this is true, then what is the difference? Quickly, I moved from merely curious to a faithfully inquiring Satanist.
I won't lie, at first I was just a simple green loving witch. I certainly was green-loving, but not kind, shortly after my occult interests.
What do I make of being a Satanist? Well, sadly, out of all the wisdom that I earned and attained, I came to realize my father is a fair-weather father. He doesn't understand squat about metaphysics nor does he have the patience. I will say this, and that even though my father, as an example, doesn't care to understand his son, he still doesn't understand his son's greatest through his son's evil fury. And by that, my father doesn't even or hasn't yet come to realize that I have done something to him. Truly, when I am weak I am strong.
What do I have to say about pagans in general? Well, regardless, of what or who we are, pagans still practice magick, the same as the one next to them. They are no more special than the one next to them. Of course, the average pagan may be accused of Satanism, but that accusation is an accusation because the average pagan, the average witch, has too much of a desired taste with his or herself to realize, that although what they are used of doing has power, but that Satanism is just closer to a truth that has more power. Power, true power, comes not from hate, but from truth.
My father is a moral man, as an example, and he does know how great I am and was as a Satanist, but he, even as a grown awesome father, still refuses to hear the details of my past. Partly because he knows what I was into was immoral, and partly a lot of it can be hard to grasp, but irregardless of the reasons, people don't always want to know the truth or face the truth.
Well, I would accuse someone of witchcraft, all the way back to Salem, but accusing someone of Satanism is politically incorrect. Take diligence out and put politics in, then you got a heap of talk and policies to problems without directly addressing the problem itself. The problem is, you either take it or leave it, either way you are getting it coming or going. Is not all of the craft Satanic? It doesn't matter because people believe or assume to believe what they wish to believe, as their will through their wands.
There is hope. Truly, you are what you think. A true witch would have something in common with a Satanist, and they would, "Submit unto themselves, and confess with their hearts that they are as they so thinketh." The problem with everyone, well almost everyone, having different deities, who has final say? Nobody will know, until the cow comes home.
|
