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Liber32: Goddess, Bring Forth
Darkness and Light

Gonzo Malefactor

email artist

It seems rather hypnotic how we tend to regurgitate beliefs and parrot them
in hopes to have the desire they impose on us to feel, and with all hope and faith
have them manifest and enjoy them. Well, that’s on the optimistic side of course;
as far as experience taught me, belief shapes will and vice versa, or maybe
because I just chose to believe in this to have a better life. While it’s good to
liberate ourselves from beliefs every now and then, history seems to tell us
liberation has a sly way of becoming oppression if one is not keeping those
beliefs in check, with personal desires and personal surroundings. But here
comes the fornication between mysticism and atheism. In a sense, the
destruction of the grip of belief, where we might end up either mass genocidal
maniacs, miserable beggars waiting for a big hand from the sky to feed us, or
simply to die miserable of loneliness because our beliefs just don’t fit with our
surroundings. My theory here is that both are affected by the grip of belief, one
by the hope of finding a daddy or a mummy better than the ones we already
have, the other one is just too much disappointment, nothing seems to introduce
hope for better living. Well of course a lot of atheists believe in their power of will,
I suppose. But these are not the ones I am handling in this context. There is a
part where liberation from belief as an identity fits into the belief as a desire; the
trick is to believe you believed it because you chose to, even unconsciously
because it attached itself to some other belief thus shaping your will to it, and
thus the creation of subconscious desire and intent and manifestation. It seems
to me more profitable if we acknowledge that we believe because we desire
pleasure instead of desiring security, which in many heavily religious
communities such seems to be the case; the most rebellious seem to be the
most insecure. The more they rebel the more they tend to go further from the
source of security that they were compelled to believe in during childhood, thus
rebelling against a lot of things but leaving out the most important source of
oppression. Believing they desire security instead of desiring pleasure, security
ultimately becomes a form of pleasure leading us to look for mommies and
daddies in others instead of lovers and friends.

Paging Dr. Freud comes to mind.

But the more important thing here relates to the connection between looking for
security and perceiving relief. As pleasure, the addiction and the compulsion
seems to attach to a person, leading to the misery of frustration and greed, when
nothing seems enough. A lot of people would tell you that your security should
come from within, but they never tell you that there is no security and no danger,
only awareness and manipulation of advantage. Of course the wiring goes
deeper in such circuits depending on the experiences of each person .
Oh God thou art the greatest desire that the heart has formulated into my
perception of existence. The more I believed in you, the more doubts penetrated
through the veils of my desire for your existence, and within the science of my
doubt I have found the candle I have lit upon your altar. Amen

Now let’s get away from this poetic nonsense, and the elusive word that we use
as an excuse to not be afraid of failure. Just to know that we have what is needed
to pass through the thin line in between to get to that passage, the desire for
initiation, the desire for acceptance that clings to our hearts that always made us
think that our existence demanded worship whether we are doing it or it's been
done to us. From the simple need to watch others, doing the things we do to feel
good about ourselves, to the complexity of philosophy putting a reason to
existence, to the study of psychology behind our reasons for making the same
decision over and over again. But really, I promised last time that I would
deconstruct my perception of the spirit for you, but I have found a better subject
to deconstruct, my belief in God. There are two ways of going around the belief in
God : either to add devotion and further belief in its existence, or start reading
more and committing acts of blasphemy to liberate yourself. But here is the
thing... the more we try to devote our time and energy to our god of choice the
more we somehow strengthen doubt in its existence. The more we do the
opposite, we strengthen the belief of the desire to doubt the god. It seems to me
a good way out of this is to allow yourself to be indifferent to the whole idea. All of
the gods seem to me to be a corpus of desires glued up by belief and intensified
by acts of devotion.

“Can it go to the extent of Genocide?”
But really ask yourself, why would you want to believe in God? Is it the fear of
failure, or is it the need to find an extraterrestrial pleasure in your desire. Isn’t
ecstasy enough? Isn’t the pleasure of tasting a fruit as its juice feeds your senses
with delight enough to make you feel alive? Or must you feel allowed to do so?
By gracing it with the desire that it is for, be it an invocation to your God, which at
that time it might as well be the desire to get over hunger. And now do you see
where I am going with this, we have attached so many meanings to God based
on desire. We want to manifest not the reality/fallacy of his existence, to make
more evident that we will get what we want; we attach ourselves in the name of
our desire to the presence of an ultimate truth yet in the process we chained our
feet to the cycle of allowance and Prohibition. And now that we smashed the altar
of our misconceptions, now let’s take a trip around what we call ourselves since
we know ourselves as HUMAN BEINGS. So are we doing what attaches us to
being a human being? Do we abide by the the rules and regulations that all the
so called wise have constructed for us to abide by so that we can call ourselves
human? Do you really want to be called a human being, what freedom does this
label give you and what limitation does this imply? It seems to me that when we
smash the concept of being and apply ourselves to the state of constant
manifestation through action, it tends to smash all the proof we have attached to
some of the most useless emotions, loneliness for example, what set of actions
fulfill the presence of the state of loneliness? What set of actions constitute that
we are in a state of love?

May chaos be your authority? Messages from the void
-Idris

Idris

Scott Swiecki

Email Artist

This isn't astral journeying, it's only seeing in my mind, but I say whichever of the
two you can do, go for it.

Weed under the duckpond:
twisted, strangling, dank.

I dived beneath the surface, and it tugs and grabs at me.

Ellis sent me down here and told me to stay under.

As this is meditation, does that make it a dream?

I drew her by the pond and I meditate there sometimes.

She said I need the other aspect.
Swimming underneath.

The languid, shadowed water flls my mind with green.

I love the green in plants, but slimy pondbed green?

It slaps against my face, so I feel but cannot see.

I count the moments under here, but my time sense is gone.

Is she satisfed?
The surface looks so far above.

The pondbed has so many bumps, they feel so slippery;

It seems too thick and soupy for a fsh or newt to live.

Now I will associate the pond with murky sludge as well as
sunlight sparkling on the ripples at the top.

Is that the other aspect that I'm supposed to see?

I'll have to break the surface now, I'll start to feel I've drowned.
-Tara

Hypno Nods: Seth Morris

anamericanmystagogue.theinfinitynetwork.org

C.M. Whitehouse from REPSYCHELED

email artist

Here's your warning.
We are everywhere and
nowhere, watching,
infuencing, intervening.

L
ook for the unnoticed and
you might see us.

Perhaps we
are watching you now.

O
utside the window, or
beyond the trees.

In your
room while you're sleeping.

We are many, We are legion.

We will be coming for you
SOON.
-Delamore

HilariahLight

Cephlapod

email artist

Alpha Centari

Scott Swiecki

From an e-letter I wrote this morning to a friend:
I woke up in a dream last night where I was
calling out the name Elohim while staring at my
own refection in a mirror, and I felt this
monumental force rising up and coming to
prominence from within my entire being. Even
when I woke up, I felt it strongly. It's been said
that one can't see one's own refection in a dream.
I don't know exactly what I saw, but I do
remember seeing a face refected back at me.
Before bed, while in creator mode, I kept seeing
shadowy entities moving through my room
around me.
I wanted also to tell you that when I was at your
place with Nathan, I believe my "subconscious"
mind was communicating to the rest of me that I
have time-travelled, and that I have been
reincarnated repeatedly. Perhaps this is how I am
eternal and mortal and unborn all at once.
-Jory P

Artist: Hashi Sayed

Cephlapod

email artist

Painter- Kevin O'Bedlam

Model- Nurse Thighs

C.M. Whitehouse

email artist

Business As Usual: Seth Morris

Something about a second Higgs Boson, whatever, who cares,
call'em back the show's on. A never ending series of delightful
delays, like a tight-knit opposing Fibonacci maze. This chalice in
wonder-lust, of water to wake the wicked to the world. Knowing
nothing, I drank of the spoiled serpent semen. Only then did my
eyes grow wide, forming a pre prefrontal cortex to bridge the
divide. Breathing it all in... soaking up all the poisons of this
divinely enchanted world through every pore of my skin. I chose to
be here, apparently for no purpose other than to bear witness to the
mass defecation we call our lives, to the defacto global corporate
takeover, the desacrefaction of all that was once holy.
All this nonsensical serpent wrapping around on itself, we all know
the truth, life is life, there is no death...
-Jeff P

The Girl Who Saw It All: Idris

Paradoxes of Time as Perception
1. The Paradox of multiple beings occupying the "same" TIME-SPACE, in what I
call different PERSONAL TIME ZONES: One person looking out a window may
be looking through what the person sees that sits next to them; while one person
sees what's there in the "actual" space, another sees through it to another place in
time (possibly through a phone call or through memory).
Therefore,
2. The time-space that appears the same for two or more individuals to an observer
is actually not the same. It is an illusion. On second observation, it seems irrefutable
that two individuals, in fact, are not occupying the same time-space, unless two
individuals comprise a single entity as in a case of "dissociative identity disorder"
(multiple personalities).

3. By focusing one's energy through thoughts and feelings into direct observation of
the details of what is present in the space one occupies at any given moment, the
molecules of timespace experienced as oneself come more fully into view.

4. To master this quality seems to require a decisive amount of concentrated
conscious force of some kind in order to ignore excess time data within oneself
from elsewhere, in other dimensions of spacetime. This is what is called
"mindfulness" or "presence".

5. The paradox of one's timespace experience proportionate to one's movement: as I
slow my ethereal and corporeal movements to stillness from rapidity, I experience
an increase in the time-space I am able to perceive.

6. The greater the time experienced in the smaller space, the more information and
events I am able to perceive, interpret, digest, and perform.

7. Every day that I perceive it is "too late" or "too soon" in my life or the course of
events, time is static and I am off-time. The moment, however, that I perceive that
"now is the time", or that "I have all the time in the world", I turn to being "ontime", become a vehicle of time-space and everything conspires with me to
accomplish a particular mission.

8. Time-space follows natural cycles of off and on, just as naturally as the ebb and
flow of the ocean's tide. Consciousness exists as a function of time. A sentient
being, therefore, as much as one is able to predict time-space, is also predicted by
the self-same time-space.

Therefore, what is "free-will"?

-Jory P

‪Frater Theodbald I'll need to re-read this
when I'm less drunk.
‪Frater Theodbald lol the reason I get drunk
is to stop perceiving time!
‪Jory Piccinino what if time and perception
are the same? is time ever absent? is
perception "of it"? that is all.
‪Frater Theodbald I think time is a measure
of change. If there existed a closed
system (or a universe) where nothing
ever changed, time would be absent from
that system or universe. If the pendulum
didn't swing, the clock wouldn't turn.
‪Frater Theodbald We percieve change and
therefore deduce time..

HilariahLight

Idris

HilariahLight

Email Artist

Scott Swiecki

Gaozi said, “Appetites for food and sex are part of our
nature. Humanity (ren) is internal rather than external;
right (yi) is external rather than internal.”

‪Jory PiccininoDoes yi ("right") refer to appropriate action, then?
‪Homertier BluaYes it's a excerpt from a debate with the philosopher Mencius about right and
wrong and human nature....Mencius believed everyone was intrinsically good Goazi had a more
open handed view of people being neutral (at least in my understanding)
‪Jory PiccininoThe way I see the craving for sex and food is similar: I would agree they are in
our nature; however, I would diverge from the view that there is anything right or wrong. I view
humanity as part of Universal nature. Viewed objectively, our need and desire to consume and
our anatomical geometry that has evolved to digest, assimilate, transmute, and output a
byproduct, is inherent in all systems and processes throughout the observable cosmos. Even
rocks forming and breaking down over the course of millions of years from celestial and organic
material and back into such represents the same basic pattern. It's all recycling.
‪Homertier BluaI agree the debate is found in the writings of Mencius so of course he appears as
the stronger debater.... But he is essentially a supporter of the ideas of confucianism... Which I
can not argue the wisdom of Confucius but he is very imperial and for the state, I can not agree
with many of his tenants.
‪Eros Vox TropikPerhaps it is in reference to desire associated with consummation rather than
the act itself. Eat, fuck, procreate, pee may exist within the realm of natural science but the
desire for and amount of is far more than recycling

And then,
the dark came once
more.
A flicker, a glimmer,
a
fealty to sight, 
so
darkened, so blackened,

so sudden, so slight.
And while eyes are
accustomed to
 light all
around 
I squint and I
harbor
the new darkness I've
found.
-Hashi Sayed

Home Made Magic:
Hat Bind Rune- Nicholas Yeates
Mask and Meditation Staffs- Chinche
Sigil Shirt- Cephlapod

Squicle AKA The Negotiation: C.W. Whitehouse

email artist

Yod Mem Matrix
AZ/23
10, 40
email artist

Late Night Writing
By: Seth Moris
There comes a point where lying to yourself becomes a chore too cumbersome for even the most optimistic- that
is, deluded - mind to manage without making a racket. The burden is too weighty, the goal is too lofty.
Something that is previously believed to have been inconsequential, or even deserved becomes a glaring error
message in the fabric of your existence. The burglar drops the television down the stairs, quite by accident, but
even so the whole house is awoken. This is what it feels like to stumble upon your own delusional machinations.
It is quite sudden, and banging tends to follow. The subtle manufacturing of the self's own stupidity, packaged
and wrapped in glittery gold paper. So shiny, in all of its eye-catching glory, that for a moment that seems
eternal you are lost; you've forgotten that you do not know what is on the inside, or that there is even an inside.
You get lost in the appearance of the shining gold wrapper, and you let yourself get lost. You don't even have to
know this, to do this. There is no wrapper, there is no box. These are devices to understand, they are thin and
worn and stretched like spider's silk across springy forest saplings, trees too young to remember the ax even
while their progenitor's stumps lay jagged in rich earth around them.
The world and its inhabitants are butterfly wings that draw the eye, and with their beauty they doom themselves
to the hand that reaches and grasps...the butterfly wing draws to itself and in its beauty it draws its own
annihilation. To see, is to desire, and to desire is to grasp, and to grasp is to powder and disintegrate that which
was once attractive. The world and its inhabitants are butterfly wings that turn to dust under a fingertip, and in
this lies awe. In this lies awe.
I have lied to myself every day that I can remember ever having told myself anything at all. I am not sure that
this is abnormal as far as people are concerned, but I am also not sure that most people recognize this. At least, I
think to myself, I recognize it. But this is quite probably another lie. Lies have a way of worming themselves
around each other like the rat-king's tails, until they are as meshed together as steel wool, and razor sharp.
Anything that touches them is cleaved in two. They say that love overcomes all, but it's lies they are thinking of.
Its a lie itself to say love overcomes all, which just goes to show you how powerful lies really are. But this isn't
a rant against love. Or against lies. Its not really about anything at all, because if it were it wouldn't need to be
written down.
No, this is about stumbling. Accidental happenstance and serendipity. Its about catalysts, and unpredictability.
Its about finding yourself where you least expect it, and losing yourself when you thought you had no self to
lose. Its about remembering forgetting, learning to be ignorant. This is about losing when you want to win, and
winning when you want to lose. Its about loss. Its about sorrow. Its about lust, and adventure and hope. Its about
deluding yourself. Some people say they can't write, that they haven't got the knack. But they're all writers,
every goddamned one of them, and they're writing stories in their skulls, etched in gray-matter and imprinted
onto neurology. They live this story, they breathe this story. They are committed, to this story. They love for this
story, they lose for it, die for it, kill for it.
And hey, can't blame them for it, can you? That's commitment. Its more commitment than I ever had. I couldn't
even stay in character long enough to get myself too deeply situated in shit, and here you had people who were
neck deep and sinking with a grin on their face like they weren't about to slowly suffocate themselves under the
girth of their own narrative. Their own story.
As for me, I'm letting the world swallow me whole. We all are. Being swallowed that is. But I'm letting it
happen. That's the difference. You can't let something you don't know is happening, happen, can you? You gotta
know what the situation is, gotta lean back in your chair and prop your feet up on someone else's table (and
whilst getting mud everywhere while you're at it) and just push off backwards straight into the prison of your
own flesh and limited ability. Let it eat you alive. Let it scour you with hot ash and fill your lungs with sand.
And then you die. But no one could ever say you died surprised.
But its not about death. Not real, physical death like we think. Death is just a morbid metaphor. For what? Fuck
if I know. Do you know? Nah. You think you know, like I think I know. But its just another butterfly wing. It
pulls you in, and then crumbles. C'est la vie. And it is goddamned beautiful. Its goddamned absurd.

Artist: Richard Hilford

Lets Play a Game...

Gang Writing or Chaos Magick?

Paul- Yes.
‪Homertier Blua- My word Chaos Gangstas!!!

Paul- Aren't we all?
‪Eian Orange- Judging by the style of my own sigils
these days I'd say it's getting harder to tell the
difference, Public sigils carry the same intent as regular graffti i.e. to
be paid attention to, even if only peripherally. The attention paid by
people in varying states of consciousness charges the glyph in all manner
of spontaneous gnosis. Some people are on auto-pilot trying to beat the
clock for their 9-5, others are free foating and possibly on drugs or just
relaxed, others still are mindful of their surroundings and therefore add a
bit of cynicism to the mix. The states of consciousness are as plentiful as
the archetypes amidst the human psyche, but all of them lend themselves
toward a phase of empowerment that cannot be easily quantifed. It is
only through a qualitative measurement of our expansion of satellite
linking power that we decide upon such things as results. Are more
Synchronicities popping up in those areas we've canvased? Have we
pinpointed the ley lines that our tags cross and noticed anomalies along
those parameters? Has there been a general increase in manifestation
revolving around the use of the tagging sigil? These are the kinds of
questions we must ask ourselves in order to decipher the veritable
statistics output our linking symbol is offering us. /end bullshit

‪Homertier Blua- ^ couldn't agree more.

‪Mad Queen- das a sigil.
or I'm old and don't recognize
gang tags no mo

‪Mad Queen- Das a sigil.
or I'm old and don't recognize gang
tags no mo
Chris- Next thing you know
you will need to get jumped
in a node. ‪Eian Orange-//next thing you know you will
need to get jumped in a node//

That's how we do it at the Z.'. Z.'.
‪Homertier Blua- This thing has been driving me crazy!
‪Eian Orange
- I used to write. I still have my handstyle. That sigil is a 2-D
representation of an amalgamation of Hu the deifcation of the frst word in the
Egyptian mythology of the Ennead, Hu the Suf concept for God, and Hu the Eckankar
mantra that is a love song to God. It's what came 2nd in line in this aural cosmogeny
I'm working with.

000. Silence
00. Sound
0. Light

Roof
I stood on the roof singing.

Now I'm a bird, or I have a bird,

Or a little bird told me something,

Or I read about Chelsea Night on the roof,

Or I found a leak in my life, in the roof,

Or someone was killed when he fell off the
roof,

Or it came in through a hatch in the roof,

Or the church lost its roof in the war,

Or something stuck to the roof of my mouth,

Or we made a spire by splitting the roof,

Or (memory of reading something grim!)

There were flowers that bloomed in the attic.
-Tara

Liber32

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