The Pink Eye of Set


by Nemus



All mystically brilliant pain of Eleusinian mystery aside, and with few exceptions, the forty-seven years of my life have been blessed by a fortune of good health. I managed for instance, to avoid most of those blights that plague a precariously precocious childhood. Nay to say, if my school had given an award for perfect, Virgoan attendance, I would have been the recipient. And of course, my acceptance speech would have been a loquaciously gracious one…knowing even then that there is always a price paid for karma seemingly too good to be true.

So then, when “That Daimon –Seed”  I call my darling daughter on occasions such as these, decided to share a particularly bloodthirsty strain of Heamophilus Aegypticus, a.k.a. Acute contagious Conjunctivitis, a.k.a.  Pinkeye  - I thought:
“Boy, this should be interesting!”  Indeed.

For behind these well-regimented walls of complex  vitamin-fortification; inside my innermost holy sanctum of Maat, as the altar of this new moon now was set, little did I initially realize the significance of the fact that upon its vast surface of lapis lazuli now lay the single offering of my left eye!


SIGHTLESS IN SEATTLE

Being technically speaking, a little to the North thereof and therefore more accurately so-called:   Blindness In Bellingham

I awoke at the dawn of a black moon. Any glint of the eternal joy the rising sun of a new day may bring quickly vanished. That slow, continued discharge that began the day before had reached flood stage while I slept. The horror that confronted me as I approached the smoking surface of the nearest mirror was indescribable:- primarily because of the fact I could not open my eyes to see It!


But here, I must exercise artistic restraint. Lest I offend the sensitive appetites of the more delicately literate, I will refrain from fully describing that mawkish pathology whose very suggestion wallows impatient for fresh opportunity in each viscose, uncensored memory of putrescent alien detail.

Mine was an Ill whose Day began in the forgotten ages of a black land. Mine was a poison fed, up-swelled and fattened by a febrile, ancient rage thru blood that saves its pause but for pregnancy yet again. And whose highly communicable knowledge   now raised a city upon each sleeping lid!

As my fingers began their first examination of the still warm congealing mass; the landscape of whose thin surface crust bore remarkable semblance to coarse sea-salt; I drew upon every trivial iota of Jedi training I could ever have possibly imagined and began with the aid of a clumsily located warm wet wash cloth to slowly open my right eye one lash at a time.

What I could vaguely see only clearly confirmed the obvious. There was no way in hell I was going to make the drive to work today. And if I was in no condition to drive – why would I want to work anyway?

So instead I bade a rare good morning to my wife on a workday, and thru the miasma  of failing vision,  I blessed the beginning of a new day in my daughter’s life. And with less frequent reassurances from my self out the door they sped. In the early hours of this new moon, I was home alone! What to do?

Like any red-blooded, mutation-enhanced, blue-balled, American male over achiever who magickally comes of Age in those hormone challenged years of physical and spiritual puberty – the snug hand that surrounds the pearl of the worlds oyster, has a firm grip indeed. The answer was obvious. Today I would open a secret door that I have made and move beyond the reach of uninitiated eyes and innocent hands. I would enter into that House where the mysteries of my self are stored. But first, I’ll start with some light reading and a little porn.

THRU AN OCCULTATION OBSCURELY

Despite the best laid plans of mice and thaumaturgy, the vision in both my eyes began to rapidly deteriorate and I soon found myself confined to bed with a hastily concocted herbal compress upon each closed eyelid which offered some significant measure of relief.

But the minutes now the hours of the day continued to pass. Morning evaporated, now licked the salt of its dew below the lengthening shadows of late afternoon. Restlessness became one spasmodic desperate fit. I had happy feet and couldn’t dance – at least not without the risk of breaking something arcane or irreplaceably valuable within my temple.

By twilight, the writhing serpentine madness that was my mind this day;- so ruthlessly forced to withdraw away from all objects of visual worship had become a riot in full rebel. And while I do not remember much of all that still transpires beneath the slip of Chaos , I shall never forget the howl that overflowed my bleeding ears: nor the cries of my many demons now outraged by  hunger and fully intent upon result. It became quite clear to me then, that I had a control problem that extended far beyond any manner of many needful things that populate the thoughts and fears of daily existence; and that I may perhaps have invoked more often and banished less thoroughly than previous acknowledged.

These were deeply personal problems indeed!

Eventually a change became evident as the dark mood of twilight thickened into Night. My patterns of false assumption, blind belief along with any number of enslaved creatures of habit - surrendered to sword and death posture at last.

And here at center-point the black flame in the inner sanctum of Maat danced upon my naked bones. When I had been thoroughly picked clean,  I vibrated Ipsos as one out flung to naught and before another thought could form its questioning seed, I was bornless aloft upon a winged word of Silence and the breath of One living mouth for Air.

Of the strange places I saw and of the Ages bent beneath beating wing, I will carefully say perhaps, just a little more for as each of us discovers that such flight is made possible only by Truth; so we become perhaps less fearful of looking down the lightning flash into that deep well of shadow-wyrd  to that place where the deepest of personal problems begins and the last question always asked is: “Where did I begin?”

May you live in pre-shadow and magickal memory.


Nemus –  A Nu moon report