This is the apologia of a man who has attempted to live the life philosophical. This is something many people do still today but they would shy from such an unsubtle, perhaps rather stuck up categorization. Yet it’s the best way to sum up where I have come from. Philosophy has always been my life: the Sophia bound within as the root of that word, that Sophia who gave birth to my mind.
For I am the Demiurge, and this is my apologia, a man who has attempted: 1.0. I create, and my wife supplicates. And from her, the diamond release of the Sufi, the Dervish Thelematic Kabbalah Scholar who interprets, a thousand such as him manage the entropy of the world as a Big Data analytics team might. They might. They might. Their might.
The sister returned to us, and the sky has fallen down. The wind up man walking round and round: yet I’m stuck in the middle in this crystal town. You love how many women?! 3? There’s even a fourth?! What’s the matter with you, are you some kind of fucking Salafist bro? Yo bro you got da cash? Yo bro where da cash?
This is the apologia of a man who has attempted to live the life philosophical, and who’s writing often fails as a logic but succeeds as an illucutionary enactment of the Spell of Abraxas.
What is the Spell of Abraxas, that you may recognize it? // Your radiance so hard, to keep my/your head. // And into the vast nothingness, the Spell of Abraxas, and into the 3rd second of time, the Spell of Abraxas, and into the eye of every woman you’ve loved, the Spell of Abraxas, and into the scream of time, into the beam of right, into the seam of the vortex eternal, into the dream of God: the Spell of Abraxas.