I had a remarkable dream about the carousel and how it related to myself. The carousel was a beautifully ornate and decorative one with bright red and blue colors. In it's center, the hub were chao stars interlocked each resonanting a sound and shining off a bright color. As the carousel would whirl, a musical like enchanting sound would manifest as if duplicating the zazas zazas mantra.
At each spoke of the wheel, a distinct brighter darkness manifested within the mist of the chao sphere. And within that sphere I saw the progenitor of chaos. It was a shapeless mass with an other dimensional feeling and thought. It manifested as black and red cloud existing outside the portals of time.
Within that mass, I sensed the heart of what it is to be a chaos magician. Free and spirited, with no wise the need to supplant our personal freedom by the causes of the external.
I knew then, that magick is not about international meetings or conclaves. It isn't about the Satantic herd instinct...It isn't about anything external to myself.
I know now, that I cannot heal the past through falling into the mire of ignorance. I cannot act and be like everyone else because they are in positions of so called "power".
I knew at that moment, no amount of fame, or magical association could make me a magician of worth. I knew that we must all pursue with vigor our hearts, and that the past is as fanciful as the dreamland of self-delusion.
The carousel is the wheel of Chaos; however unidentifiable it may be. What I can give to any occult organization is my heart....But it is all to often that organized cults (and I do not mean the z-cluster) much more prefer to steal fire from heaven...and nothing can be glean in that way.
What I see within the carousel is the heart of each one of us as we pursue our lives, independent of the cancer of controlling or manipulating behavior. Self-importance or the belief in that which is not, is the real demon that perpetuates ignorance.
As my dream continued, I began to see the whirling of that fernal machine pick up speed. And again, I saw and heard a potporri of amazing sounds, as the chaos stars began to fly off the hub and whirl into space, endless space. And I then viewed, a dark star...with its whirling tourbillian sucking the whirling chaos stars into the center..from which no explorer has ever returned. And I saw the old father of chaos swimming in the morass of the circuit..And the child of the USA struggling in the horror....I viewed the spectacle..and knew within my heart, that the school boys of the old are now mere playthings and entertainment for those who had crossed the abyss.
I knew, I was done with it; at last.