Well I will tell a condensed version of my story--which incidently parellels urs. I first began reading the Necro at 16, read it cover to cover numerous times and felt to use it then would be fatal to my sanity. I knew jack shit about magick (well slightly less than now--haha) then but my gut told me I was in no way ready. Fast forward 3 years and a Thelemite friend of mine loans me the Necro Spellbook. That very nite I used it w/o hesitation-as the method in there was perfectly suited for a novice like myself then! Of course I had no true understanding of WHY I was doing magick, just that I wanted to do it. Being I was foolish and had lots of shadows hanging over my spirit then the use of the 50 names only served to stir the pot more. but the thing is, looking back now, that was good! But then it fucked me up good. The self created phantoms were overwhelming and I was seriously freaked out. The one incident I remember is one nite I fell asleep--or so I thought I did. While in a state of "sleep" some entity was hammering on my chest like a jackhammer. It was a mass of neon green squiggly lines....undescribable really, but I can see it clear still. This got to me mentally so I, in my weakened and fearful state put the Necro down. this began my trek across the Cold Desert.
For 5 years I rpacticed no magick whatsoever. But I sure did worship the fire water god--often and daily. The shadows I invoked earlier only took a more pronounced form. Each day was an infinity of agony. Sorrow was a shroud over my soul always. To smile was to wear a false mask. I was dead inside. Each day was cold, was empty and full of hate towards nothing but myself. It was a bad time. Life was shitty, the perspective I had was shitty, everything I was doing was unproductive to my betterment--it was all for my immediate gratification and to also escape those very phantoms I had conjured from w/i myself. But the further away from magick I ventured the worse this all became. I slowly began reading some Crowley books I had but didnt bother to read. The more I read the more I understood what the f%*! he was talking about suddenly. Then one day I decided to do some geomancy w/ my own name and certain gods names.
MARDUK= 831
ENKI= 85
ENKI= 40* *(Sumerian God Number)
ENLIL=50
ANU=60
My Own Name QERIM IDRIZI = 596
596+ 85+ 40+ 50+ 60 = 831******
Keep in mind I was about to abandon my return to practicing while doing this--this was a sort of "why the f%*! not?" moment and Im sure glad I did this. To me, it inspired me to take up arms again and begin to work w/ the 50 names of MARDUK. To me this symbolized a personal connection w/ those divine energies I had worked w/ and also in the process revived my spirit. That was that confirmation I needed. That nagging of my spirit was explained, I was being told to return-I knew better now. I was wiser from my agony. I had passed the initiation of the gods by crossing that cold desolate desert where I had no one but myself to rely upon in spirit. And as soon as I began calling the 50 names again I noticed immediate results and how my approach was more refined and organized in how I dealt w/ the spirits. I also called spirits for a specific purpose much more than before.
The point of that epic story (IMG:
style_emoticons/default/blablabla.gif) was to say I took a break as well, and I found once THEY choose u its not up to u to decide if u can go or not--ur mission has been dealt to u, its a matter of accepting it again. Once u do u will find all are awaiting ur return and if ur motives are just u will be assisted in assisting ur own Evolution. Remember, the Gods only help u if u help urself!
Good luck!
The Necronomicon... Chooses It's Own?
ObsidianLF The Necronomicon... Chooses It's Own? Nov 30 2006, 04:28 PM
Nov 30 2006, 04:28 PM
