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LA INESCAPABLE PERSISTENCIA

Si un solo deseo tuviese por pedir, un único privilegio a ser cumplido antes de mi partida, este sería que un alma noble en la mía entrase con la fuerza de un sol, a través de este interminable laberinto de eclipses y sus fríos ciclos.

Que, por un instante siquiera, el sentir pudiese regresar a mí, y que la dicha de la ausencia de abandono, desconocida, llenase mi irremediablemente cóncavo corazón una vez.

Si un solo deseo tuviese por pedir…, me gustaría ser recordado lo que significa ser un ser humano, de nuevo.

STARING AT THE FARTHEST HORIZON

It’s been too long since the last time I felt overwhelmed by this, the blackest, thickest sadness; this soul-devouring eclipse of mourning, of despair. Years of thinking myself stronger than death, have been overshadowed by the most intolerable uncertainty today.

In the last couple of weeks, thinking about all those I have lost forever, and somehow feeling -almost literally- the bottomless spiral of nothingness they left inside of me, has become a constant occurrence, and it’s getting harder and harder to bear the sudden, gradual escape of tranquility.

I’m am not at all sure how to walk my path onwards from here. That will, that power I thought was in me, appears to have vanished along with the presence that all those people and things that mattered had in my life.

I still have to figure out how to go back to that place, where I was whole and the pale one had no power over the light that guided this heart.

I wish I could believe all this will make sense someday, somewhere behind that pure, bright door of precious serenity and light

I just hope there’s a reason to live on, waiting ahead; a greater purpose for us, the lost souls that remain in this wasteland…

A NEW WORLD VISION

Hopelessness. It’s all you got left when all your seemingly foolproof plans of affection and kindness towards humanity, prove to be nothing but an obvious array of failures…

They’ll tell you ‘love’ is the almighty solution to all the problems of the world, big and small. But what do they really do behind the backs of us all? They lie and cheat, steal and kill one another, only to create a world worth of indulgences and pretty little perks for themselves.

What is the point in even trying to be the greater man/woman, if no one understands what the path to a better life in the world we share entails? Is reciprocity even a thing nowadays?

I have got to admit I’m honestly tired of it all. Dominating hypocrisy, unashamed falsehood... I feel like I live in a wasteland, among scraps and remnants of the world I once knew and had high hopes for.

The most ironic thing, though, is that I’m becoming, slowly but surely, that which I most despise. I’m blending in with this overwhelming chaos, turning into something twisted and unrecognizable. Hatred and aversion now fill up my insides.

Indeed. Love is the answer to all our questions and THE cure to our dying world, this figurative wasteland. But if we don’t learn to live by and for it, purely, unconditionally, endlessly, we’ll never reach all the good fate has in stores for us, assuming it is still on our side.

A QUESTION OF MEANING AND FATE

This is a special night, one in which I won’t talk about joyful things, nor the great hopes found floating between little dark voids inside my head.

Tonight, I can’t help but to think of the path that brought me here, one that I feel destined to remain on: The great road of disillusionment.

I very recently came to realize the quite obvious fact that I’m still here, following the same patterns, making the same mistakes, falling for the same old lies, because there’s little hope left in… whatever the cool metaphoric equivalent for soul is nowadays. So much so, that I don’t feel like starting something new anymore.

Seems that on a subconscious level, creating something or establishing a new bond of any kind, becomes pointless when death threatens your chances of witnessing what you spent your life working to accomplish.

Because I feel and know with an almost total certainty, that my end will come prematurely; that whatever I did in life will matter as much as my will clings to anything today.

So I have to wonder… What do I have left? Is there something that I’m missing out on?

I’m starting to believe that I lost a piece of something spiritually crucial, to my pessimism, along the way, a few centuries back…

REVELATIONS OF REPULSIVENESS

“…and when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification.”
Wollstonecraft Shelley, M. (1818). Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. London, England.

HOPES AND DOUBTS OF A SELF RIGHTEOUS MAN

The master plan of leaving, abandoning what’s known, ever so sweet.
The perpetual Lady Veil over the light of clarity in this, the present, I meet.
A shadow of waiting for safer, somber days, I only found.
For a future so untrue and uncertain is yet to be unbound.

TRASTORNO DISMÓRFICO DE NAVEGACIÓN

Tú, el olvido: El lago del tiempo donde nadan remembranzas ajenas de lo que un día –entre mentiras bondadosamente dichas– significó ser lo que fui…
Tú, la insignificancia: El navío egocéntrico y presuntuoso que intento navegar a través de este mal creado lago.

UN MUNDO INDIGNO

El diurno insomnio que abre camino al desaprecio de la verdad, es la aletargante amnesia que funde el hoy con el deseo y la falsedad del ser…
Esa desteñida virtud e inevitable pecado nos salvan de la muerte, del oscuro rincón de omnipresente apatía a la que se reduce el sendero del hombre.
Bajo la sombra voluntaria de banales indulgencias, la ceguera es la única y sincera traspuerta ante un mundo indigno que toda alma intenta abandonar.
Pues no es hasta al séptimo día que la inminencia nos arrincona ante la consciencia y elucida con voces familiares, y epifanías de vergüenza inobservable, nuestro desentendimiento e irreversible fin.

Con la finalidad del cese como posibilidad, ¿cuál es nuestra verdadera razón o intención?
Pudiendo descender hacia la dignidad hace tanto perdida, yacemos bajo el sol de la burla propia, como intentos involuntarios por ser el destino asignado, meras parodias de lo que suponemos o deberíamos ser.

DE MANECILLAS Y PERPETUIDAD

En el gran reloj del mundo, soy un péndulo, el vaivén...
Soy la suspensión del camino, atrapado entre las confusas verdades de dicha y miseria.
Soy la inercia del presente, el destino aprisionado por un pasado de aguas turbias.

A WEE BIT O' BACKGROUND

Samael, Sammael, Samyel, Camael - Samael has possibly the richest and most contradictory set of stories about him of any angel. Some identify him with SATAN, saying that Samael was his angelic name, but others are definite that Satan's angelic name was SATERNAIL. He certainly has many roles that overlap with those ascribed to Satan and with SEMYAZA, but has positive roles as well. The name probably means either 'poison of God' or 'the blind one'. Since the ANGEL OF DEATH is sometimes said to administer poison, Samael is sometimes identified as that angel. In the Gnostic text The Hypostasis of the Archon, Samael is the name of the first ARCHON, and the name is said to mean 'god of the blind'. In this work, Samael, also blown as IALDABAOTH, proclaimed himself the true god to his seven offspring. In response, Zoe (Greek for 'Life'), the daughter of PISTIS-SOPHIA ('Faith-Wisdom), breathed into his face; her breath became a fiery angel 'and cast him down into Tartaros, below the Abyss'. He appears as Samma'el, Prince of the Accusers in 3 Enoch 14 (compare the role of Satan in Job). He is also the Prince of Rome, regarded as the great enemy at the time of writing. Daily, he sits alongside DUBBIEL and Satan to write down the sins of Israel. They pass the writing tablets to the SERAPHIM to pass on to God, but the Seraphim burn them instead. Some say he is the angel who wrestled with Jacob, although others say this is PENIEL. He has been described as having twelve wings.

On an astronomical level he is called the ruler of Mars, which, as this is the planet of war, accounts for his being called an angel of evil. However, the influence of Mars can be turned instead to energising and bringing vitality, determination and, as Clare Nahmad says, 'a fighting spirit harmonized by love, quickening lethargic resignation into transfiguring action'. In kabbalistic vision he is seen in his original glory, ablaze with jewels and precious crystals, before humanity degraded his energies. He can be the leopard-bodied Count Palatine of hell or a bejeweled archangel of the divine presence. Nahmad also describes him as one 'on whom we should call for courage, empowerment, protection of the innocent, willpower, stimulative energy,' and says that we should call on him for help in manual jobs as Mars is the planet of energy, enthusiasm and drive.

Samael’s Sigil
Samael’s Sigil

Samael figures widely in magic books. In a slip of the pen, The Lemegeton calls him Samuel at one point, although there is no doubt that it is Samael that is meant. In this work he is the angel who rules the first hour of the day. His chief dukes (who each have another 444 servants following them) are Ameniel, Charpon, Darosiel, Monasiel, Brumiel, Nestoriel, Chremas and Meresyn. The text invokes him as 'Thou mighty and blessed angel Samael' and calls him a servant of mercy and of the most high God when conjuring him to 'descend and shew your self visible and perfectly in a pleasant and comely form before me in this Cristall stone: to the sight of my Eyes speaking with a voyce Intelligible and to my apprehension: sheaving, declaring & accomplishing all my desires that I shall aske or Request of you both herein and in whatsoever Truths or things else that is Just and lawfull before the presence of Almighty god.' In the Sloane manuscript Book of Raziel Samael is an elemental angel with power over the earth. He shares power over the west with ADRIEL and JOEL. Samyel, an angel of the south of the third heaven in the same work, is probably identical. See also AGRAT BAT MAHLAT.

Cresswell, J. (2006). The Watkins Dictionary of Angels. London, England: Watkins.