Path-notes from the Edge of Forever(4)

So, I was working in my apartment. My project was fairy simple. I wanted to begin the process. The process is very key. Part of this process involved ritual scarification. I want to put the alchemical alphabet on my body in a way that I can manipulate. So, the project was to use the wood-burning tool to etch the proper symbols onto my knuckles. Air, earth, fire, and water on the first (1st) knuckle and then mercury, iron, sulfur, and gold on the set of knuckles below it. The next set of symbols will come to me in dreams as these did.

So, rub the area down with benzocaine, burn the symbol in and then rub salt. A lot of pain to be certain, but a small price to pay in the larger picture. I was very disciplined. It was late at night and I did not scream. There was more pain than I expected. I even cried, I can't remember the last time I cried... and then a funny thing happened.

I had what I can only call a moment of clarity. I went out onto the back deck and looked down into the courtyard of the apartment complex. It was as still as death. Snow had blanketed it and was lazily drifting to the earth, lit only by the sodium arc light of the street. It was a moment of pure sublime beauty, and I thought to myself..."What the fuck am I doing with my life?"

I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. A lifetime of thwarted desire has made me into a twisted freak to the point where I can't even TALK to regular human people. I can't look them in the eyes for fear of what they'll see in mine. I'm so disconnected from ordinary humans that I keep myself busy with all of this mystical stuff to keep myself from realizing how lonely I am. I'd howl at the moon right now if I could. I'm so disconnected from human beings that I’ve got two dozen (24) DVD's of nasty S&M rape fantasy video, and I play that stuff constantly. And I haven't jerked off in..Fuck. I can't remember how long. It's like wallpaper to me now. I don't have any friends. My family has washed their hands of me. I have the leg of a secretary in my freezer.

It's moments like these when you realize that you are a monster, and probably have been for a long time. When did you make the choice to turn away from...all of it?  When did THAT happen?

And as I hold my ruined hand to my breast in the cold frozen night, I wonder whether I made myself into one(1), or whether God decided to make me into one (1).

Does it makes a difference?