Thursday, February 3, 2011
Just minutes ago, I said the word "Shemhamphorash" aloud in the darkness of my room. I don't know what compelled me. In that moment, the wheel of my consciousness was temporarily grasped by an "other" who looked through my eyes, flexed the fingers of my left hand like it was a new glove, and intoned, "I must affect a voice," through my mouth. It took intense concentration to bid him away long enough for me to quickly perform a banishing ritual. No way would I go to sleep without being sure.
A weary mind is a fertile ground for dangerous energies. I'm not pleased to say that my workings have been clumsier in recent times; I am often impatient, and I have forced the issue more than once with threatening results. Hygiene and discipline are universally important, and it is clear that I must redouble these standards. Never speak the names unless you desire them to visit.