Writing is a form of Sorcery!

``Thoth, God of Magick, was merely a man who invented writing, as his monuments declare clearly enough. ``Gamarye``, Magick, is only the ``Gramma``. So also the old name of a Magical ritual, ``Grimoire`` is merely a ``Grammar`` Aleister Crowley

It rarely occurs to people that words are a form of symbolism. These symbolic abstractions known as words have the power to awaken latent potentialities and oddities within people, invoking forces that would not otherwise enter their being without the use of Words. Writing words is a magickal ritual in itself, using these abstract symbols to conjure visions within people`s minds, by changing their state of consciousness in order to activate those dormant worlds that lye within them. Then seeing these visions manifest into reality through comics, art, music, movies, fashion and etc.   The stronger the potency for the writing spells are, the stronger the impact it can have on the minds of the Masses.

These symbols can be used to provoke thought, take people to different places, empower people and even corrupt them. For instance, in the documentary ``How Star Trek Changed The World` it specifically showed how scientists were influenced by the ideas in the star trek, by borrowing them to make their own scientific inventions such as sliding doors and wireless phones you see in society today. These ideas have their roots in science fiction, which was firstly written in stories and then made into episodes. In any case writing was the original medium for these ideas. Then it was expressed in other mediums and somehow magically manifested into our existence. And this all begun in the expression of words.

So writing is a form of sorcery that can sculpt our minds, for good or ill. Writing changes people`s psychology. People even at times emulate how the writer articulates his expressions, or emulates his visions to come up with their own artistic creations. And needless to say their visions are influenced by the expressions of words the writer uses. Thus writing being a form of Sorcery to invoke imaginative visions within people. The more genuine it`s authenticity, the stronger the literary sorcery is...


Any times you either feel inspired or wretched is because of the use of words you have been exposed to, not realizing the potent effect it carries. In this reality our primal medium for ideas is words.
``In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and word was God``
This is an essential allegory that postulates everything in creation starts with the word, however that word is designed, it`s begins with that primal symbol to inspire creation with. And everything in our world is generally inspired by symbols & words, whether you realize it or not. All Establishments, Schools, Politics and Art is are fueled by words, those abstract symbols we use.

So every time you write see it as a ritual taking place, knowing that writing has the potential change people`s psychology, for good or ill. So be careful with the words you use, you don`t want the undesirable to manifest into your reality.

A Horrible Night In The Land Of Dreams

``There`s times through an activation of the suppressed elements of the psyche that the dreamland and the mundane world can become interconnected. Though they are inextricably connected, as everything is in creation. But gateways to such realms are locked by the lack of activation in the psyche`s strange abyss`(The Unconscious).`` Kosmic Lust, by The Nameless Wizard

I was given such an uncanny book on occult sciences and lore called ``Kosmic Lust`` by a peculiar, shaky man with whiten hair who said such a book had given him terrifying, lucid Nightmares in being in shuddersome, chaotic lands. He told me to be prudent after this literary indulgence. We were at an underground opium cafe, in London. It was 1890, on an October night.  After giving him my regards for his kind generosity I decided to go home, where I started to read the book, in a relaxed opiated state that vivified the imagination into the occulted realms to the point where they almost seemed to become realistic. They opium high allowed an oceanic wave of the unconscious to flood the conscious mind. And just looking at the illustrations of the book gave me wonder and fear simultaneously. After a long read in the luminous moon night I decided to comfortably slumber, since I was feeling tumultuously tired. 

As I awaken awful paranoia terrorized me, for being in a strangely frightening world. Pinkisk fog surrounded me, in the stark night in the world unknown to me. Unfamiliar planets & moons hung on the nighted sky. Queerly on the ground were strange obsidian monolithic runes, with small dragons on them with preternatural, piercing eyes that scared me immensely. Then I started to walk aimlessly, in this foreign land where giant skeletal remnants remain on the ground, in haunted forests that had strange creatures sitting on trees with only their eyes visible in the Night. After  such a miserably long walk I encountered two ghostly white females, standing absolutely naked in this strange world wearing cloaks with  purple interior and sigils painted (or tattooed) on their bodies. They were standing on a ritual circle,  made by stone that was virtually covered in moss and weeds, which was on a plateform that had stairs that ascended upto it that were cracked and mossy.  They spoke in an unfamiliar tongue that was linguistically similar to a primitive African who utters unpronounceable expressions. But in contrast these women happen to linger their words out, giving it a sinister echo effect.

Once they saw me they walked slowly down, in the pinkish fog, giving me menacing smiles and laughter. One of them extended their arm out and gave me a silvery key, which illuminated a trifle in the pinkish darkness. Once I received it from her she smiled, then I noticed she was a vampiress by her sharp lengthy teeth she showed by her facial expression. Then they pointed to a ruinous, grotesque mausoleum with statues of faceless knights and gruesome gargoyles. After they started to laugh madly, in an annoying manner. They suddenly vanished in the swirly green pinkish smoke while two wolves scampered away and howled at the perilously sharp cliff by the redish black moons, with oaken twisted roots sunken deeply in the cliff. Such a experience sent a serptine shiver down my spine, giving me icy chills long afterwards. Those morbid sentiments are deeply embedded in my psyche beyond redemption, now.

So I walked slowly towards the tomb, hearing skulls of unfamiliar creatures crack beneath my feet as smoky dust arises to my face to choke me, in momentary times. One of the faceless statues of the knights had his hands broken off and sword scattered in pieces by the door. Inside, on the ground was a symbol of a triangle which has a reptilian eye above it by the door inside. I used the key to open the door, and to my unsettling surprise. there`s was a labyrinth reaching down to the nethermost bellows of this mausoleum. So I decided to walk warily down, pushing away the hideous cob webs out of my face and running furiously away from the radiantly colored spiders, in the darkened labyrinth. 

As I reached the bottom I noticed an arch passageway going to a terrifying forest, swelling with hideously large oaken trees and ancient monoliths scattered around. So I walked aimlessly again, in wretched trepidation and heard possessive, haunting tunes of a flute. Suddenly I saw the fearsome pan, playing a flute below the blackened rainbow as grotesque ghouls made slow, ominous beats to make hypnotic rhythms to their goddess of Darkness, causing bizarre trances to beings near by. To my feared wonderment,  pan`s flute, with it`s oddly golden black designs that shone out in the night, giving it undulant reflections as he played ominously in the dark Night was purely possessive.

As I walked by them and went on the jangled serpentine path that led to the strangely disproportionate  castle on the cliff covered with statues of strange beings and goddesses. The hypnotic musik started to build up in intensity, murdering my courage to go any further. But I went on, regardless of the iniquitous musik.

There was bushes made of mazes there, obscuring the front doors of the castle which had gloomy ponds with archaic symbols on its masonry, and wretchedly large oaken trees that had small doors with peculiar designs on them that were inhabited with hobgoblins inside.

After many attempts to try to find my way through the maze the blackened sun had arisen and illuminated a path for me to the front doors. Such a thing was a miraculous god-send, for me in this odd situation. Inside a heard murmurs, in my familiar language. So I walked down a stone, spiral stair way and heard two distinct voices, in their room of conjuration talking about this mummified priest of the Kthulhu Kult and how they can give him a momentary rival so he can divulge the secrets of the long forgotten Kthulhu Rites which can enable them powers to make an evocation for the merciless god Kthulhu . As they talked away I bent down and crawled on my knees, being as discrete as possible not to be noticed by them in the room of conjuration, as they exercised their necromancy on the mummy, putting weird powder on his forehead to go along with their necromanic spells. Eyes opened, then they asked him to divulge the secrets of the long forgotten Kthulhu Rites.

``In the perished temple under the deep waters lies the Mysteries of what you request, Wizard. In the  waters where the Dagons reside. said he angrily. As he closed his eyes he murmured``let me rest in my Dreams``. Then he fell slowly down to his coffin barely making a noise. 

Unpleasantly later, I was noticed by the two wizards in black. One was young and the other was an elder who had an esoteric symbol painted on his forehead. ``Welcome to the other side of reality`` Said the elder``The reality of dreams, in the awakened dimension of infinity. Join us in an adventure to the temple of Kthulhu that has been perished underwater for a long time immemorial .  

So I voluntarily joined them, being intrigued to discover the long forgotten Kthulhu Rites Mysteries. We embarked on this adventure on black horses, traveling to places weird and wondrous to me. Asking directions from faceless peasants. And picking bizarre remedial potions from Witches & Warlocks whenever we got bitten by spiders and bats on the journey.

When we arrived at the waters, where the temple had been long perished I was puzzled as to how we can  manage to get to it. Strangely, after this contemplation, the elder wizard in black did chants and drew a circle in the sands with his staff that had a crystal on it, radiating immensely multi-colored light in the Darkness. Then, beyond rational belief the waters dichotomized, to make a pathway to the ruined temple, swelled with sea weed and Kthulhu symbols & statues near by it. 

So we walked towards it, being menaced by nefarious looking Dagons in the double wall gap of water. And seeing strange merfolks on sea horses go by us in the walled water caused by the dichotomization from the elder wizard in black magick abilities. Inside there were tentacle cravings mostly everywhere, permeating the interior of the temple. On the ground were skeletal remnants of Kthulhu cultists, wearing necklaces with esoteric Kthulhu symbols on them.

In the midst of  my fascination of all of this, the elder wizard in black weirdly took out a knife and cut his hand open so blood would slowly pour out of his hand and drip in the embedded archaic designs on the ground, which made them radiate in dark lime green once the blood dropped on them. Then tumultuous noises begun, making us unsettled and nervous as ultra-violet rays came out of the walls as they dissolved.  Strangely,  a cosmic void appeared. And then I fell into it, out of worrisome fear, as I was by the wall stunned by this unsettling awesomeness. As I fell I had awaken to the mundane world, realizing I plunged to the other side of reality, hoping I can go back and witness the awesome fears again from the ominousities, in that weird land of dreams. Thankfully, every time I dreamt again I went back to the  precisely same situation I happen to be in when I had awaken to the mundane reality. I fell in an etheric web, in the cosmic void, with a sorceress on top of it singing gloomily. As she sang away I noticed I was surrounded by dragons sitting on comets that were around unique, incomprehensibly looking planets. And awe-inspiring, hueful milky ways............. 

``The sub-consciousness knows no limitations, only the conditioned consciousness arbitrarily thinks it has limitations in the mundane reality. In any case, consciousness can be opened to innumerable vistas through certain activations  Such worlds may appear to be dreamy, haunting and wondrous. Such keepers of these worlds only await the chosen few....Are you ready for the grander Mysteries of Reality?! to go on the edge of Infinity  ?! Seeing yourself reside, in multi-diemensions, as you awake to them and go back to the mundane reality whenever you awake in this particular reality, where everything appears to be ambiguous. If so, then read away!...Kosmic Lust, By The Nameless Wizard. ! 

Musicians Are The Modern Shamans (Or Sorcerers)

In times immemorial inspired women and men would ignite ceremonies and rituals by doing chants and rhythms on their organic instruments to induce chants, inspire visions and most importantly heal the wounds of their tribe. These methods were transformative. It was magick, in other words. It had the capacity to change the people, make them think differently from this power they possessed. The shaman (or sorcerer) had the ability to go into the depth of the unconscious and bring back a creative force to his ordinary state to change the regular frequency of his reality.

In contemporary times we have concerts that are strikingly reminiscent of these ceremonies and rituals of antiquity, but the importance of such things are missing because of the ubiquitous political spells and corporate depravity in today's world that tries to marginalize anything that has real power for people. However, such great things can be marginalized, but not completely dismissed by everyone in the world.

Nevetheless, whether people realize it's power or not, it's Magick still thrives. In concerts people tend to fall into trances when they hear the musick play, mesmerized by the evocative riffs and beats, going to different places inside their heads inspired by the musik. The musicians have taken up the responsibility of the shamans (or sorcerers)whether they're consciously aware of it or not. They can be identified with the similar powers nonetheless. By taking their audience to different states, by inspiring them visions and even healing their wounds . People even change as people when they  go to concerts, having a personal transformation for themselves.

As you hear people sometimes say " When I heard that musick I envisioned this.It brought to this place" Or you even hear writers & artists say they listen to Music while they create their Art... And that's the power Musik has, to alter your consciousness. To bring you into different places. And needless to say, it has the power to heal.

Few days ago I watched an interview of the members of EyeHateGod and one of the members of the group said" A kid told us that our musik helped him get through his suicidal tendencies, saying he would have killed himself if it wasn't for our musik to alleviate his pain." And that's the healing powers musik possesses. For that matter, would you ever hear anybody say school, politics and my job helped me get through my life troubles?!. No! Musik is always mentioned in these matters, or any other forms of Art. Because Musik has the power to cause transformation in people. It gives them inspiration to go further, to think differently.  And to do different stuff & activities with their lives. Hence Musicians being The Shamans (or Sorcerers)!

As Ufomammut said in an interview once" Musik should be considered a religion" Or Musik could even be considered a form of Magick!! Which sounds better to my ears