well here i am, captain exorcist.


it is funny that i find myself in this situation, spiritual warfare. i am very well protected so i feel strong but i can't help but laugh at the circumstance.
there i was a few days ago, writing my 'magnum hopeless' a tale that i have never really shared, yet it is something very revealing and definitive in my life, a story about the nature of evil and how it has insinuated itself into the human condition, a story about doing nothing or doing something, a story about the corrupting agents of entropy who have only one goal in life, to feed their hungers and obscure their nature with deception and shield themselves from responsibility and consequence. every act has ripples through the matrix of possibilities, into your body, spirit and mind, then into the relationships between family and tribes spilling over into the greater community and the damage cast is never just on one level, it's a multi dimensional universe, as these ripples take on a life of their own. (your karma ran over my dogma)
this is why war exists, it's nothing to do with land, politics, religion and memes, it's because people as individuals refuse to fight the spiritual war that exists within themselves, that is the only war worth fighting because once that has been accomplished by every individual no other war will exist.


i was doing very well, introducing the characters, the kids, the environment, the facts and the fictions of it all, adding some flourishes and frills for your reading pleasure. i was just about to get the whole thing into second gear when personal events suddenly interrupt my tale and i have to abandon my story and deal with a new one.
but are these things unrelated? of course not, they are the same source, a spiritual war, the spiritual war.
i don't know, i feel very strongly about children, i worked for years in refuges and crisis agencies, i seen what abuse is, close up. mental, physical, sexual.
abuse is abuse. you wanna see the role that alcohol plays in abuse?
i remember this demon now, how it existed when i first met her. i was different then, somewhat shocked and confused by what was going down. i didn't understand how someone could behave like that, go from being really nice to a fucking hard edged psychopath after a few drinks. okay well i'm a gentle man, i don't hit women, so i don't understand this, it is alien to me. when i drink i just fall asleep, the last thing i ever do is start a punch up or commit acts of violence. my personality does not change at all, i'm just slower. so when a girl you love smashes you in the head a few times and forgets all about it the next day it makes you wonder. now imagine the effects this would have on a young baby or child, if their mother or father gets drunk and their personality changes so dramatically. they decide to go for a drive, have a bath, light a candle, carry a kettle of boiling water etc. i've seen all the above, drunk parents destroying their children's lives. 


the effects of the possession i war against currently is the product of the sickness i rage against in my story. i know this, i've seen it many times in many people, it's not their fault, they were once innocent and that is why i really tried my best to restrict the entity inside her, bind it under her authority and liberate it to the light. but i can't unless i have permission and i have none despite my plea to intervention. so my work here is done. 
it's always hard loosing a friend to an enemy you know will consume them. maybe something somewhere, a seed sown may one day shoot into an apple tree of insight and self awareness but in this case the demon is exposed, i have seen it, i have called it, i have named it yet it stays entrenched and now has much more to lose. so it's defence mechanisms hook deeper into the host and the dance of denial becomes more masked with more gregarious deceptions and further complex smoke and mirrors to hide all evidence of its existence. all addicts are masters of deception.


i will protect the innocent child from afar, i will do this to the best of my abilities, my bodhisattva vow demands it. 






i meet with my mistress, the vine spirit whom has given me my mission many years ago, she heals me, in ceremony i am crushed and destroyed, my ego fights a little, there is resistance from my own ego, a stupid thing that fights a futile battle against healing and i fathom the cycle treadmill of thoughts into reduction of mind, death void and rebirth, blessed and reborn into joy. i am given many new gifts. i am loved so much i feel deep gratitude. i went in deeper than i have gone into a vulnerable emotional state. i don't know exactly what happened but the karmic snake cleared my aura, fast work, i could see them around my body, millions of them, they moved through my field and left me in the arms of love. 


last night i hang with a new friend who lives across the road, she is a young witch i collided with who is unaware of her power. i tell her, 'a witch is a rebel in physics' and pass her a broomstick that lays upon the floor. we smoke together in simplistic truth of emptiness for i am naked and she asks me out of the blue if i am a healer. i'm having trouble using words, in fact i'm drooling and dribbling tea from my lips.
she says, 'i think you must do that energy work, deep stuff.' 
i try to tell her about plant medicines for she has never heard of such things, she seems rightly cautious. she's more your traditional teas, brews and concoctions type, her celtic heritage is strong. the witch across the road and i sitting up at 2am rolling joints on a seven sided  table,'a pentagram' i whisper.
she smiles at me as our eyes meet. a strange look on our faces i'm sure.
the next day i arrive home after a big day in the city and in my garage sits the pentagram coffee table only it now has eight sides.


it's a magickal universe and it wants to play.