WARNING: This post is not for the easily frightened.
I have been scarred by dark forces. I have been disturbed. I will never be the same.
I cannot turn my head to the dark, lest I dishonor myself. It is part of me now. I am One with it.
It was during an Ayahuasca ceremony, a safe one. I have participated in dangerous ceremonies before. You will see in this text.
I was taken to a hellish dimension.
Grandmother showed me one dark system in particular. I had seen it before, in other dimensions, from different perspectives. This time, I understood how it worked, and why. I realized that this pillar, this system would stand for eternity.
It shattered my soul, literally.
I saw giant pillars, underground. These were the foundations of the Dark. They were black, with rust like blood. Demons moved about, like ants in a hill. They were busy. Doing what? I saw two in particular, handsome men, leaning over the pillar, talking business. I remember them. I had met them before. I’ll tell you later.
When Grandmother speaks to me, it’s like being in a 5D theatre. The experience is multidimensional. All my senses are engaged.
The darkness is cut off from the Light. That is why it is survival energy. Light is life, so the darkness is death. Dark entities aren’t even alive. The vampire is an effective metaphor.
The vampire is dead. It has no real life of its own. Blood is representative of life. Light is life. To survive, it must drain the life out of a neutral source. Demons can’t feed on angels. The darkness is submissive to the Light. It’s never the other way around.
By the way, demons are allergic to garlic. The legends are passed down because there is truth hidden in it.
Dark entities, to survive, must feed on neutral sources. Enter the human race.
The Matrix is another effective metaphor.
The human race is enslaved. We are being disillusioned by a false reality that was manufactured to keep us unconscious of the truth. While we are preoccupied with the media and its bullshit circus show, they kill our prophets, rape our children, imprison our youth, poison our food and water, control our minds, destroy our planet, and steal our Light.
Oh, I have an idea. Let’s hold hands and sing kumbaya. Because that’ll make us feel better.
Don’t look away. We aren’t going to manifest a darker reality. We’re going to heal this one. We bring Light to the dark to heal it. That means accepting our own darkness.
I was in Sedona, AZ. It must’ve been twenty degrees out there on the Cathedral Rock platform. The stars were bright in the New Moon sky. The majestic view of the red rocks under starlight caught me. Someone was singing to me. In another dimension.
Maybe we shouldn’t have had Ayahuasca that night. I knew I should’ve worn more layers. My muscles were sore from its constant quiver. We couldn’t drive or climb down the side of the rock in our current state. I wondered if I’d survive the night.
I know for sure that we should have cast a circle, called the corners, our guardians, hailed our angels, totems and guides. We didn’t have a shaman, and we didn’t realize the dangers. We were naive, vulnerable, unprotected, on Ayahuasca, in a Sedona vortex.
The two demons. One was young, a dark skinned, well groomed, handsome man. The other resembled a father, older, with a white beard and long hair. This is the kind of business that runs in families, from father to son.
They wore black robes, the older gentleman, some kind of ribbon, denoting his rank. They both felt warm and inviting. Yet cold and menacing.
We spoke telepathically. Welcome. We invite you to see this place.
I saw a pod, moving through the multiverse, time, space, and dimension.
We are very powerful. We are independent of the Light. We live a comfortable life.
I saw flashes of kings, thrones, blood, bones, screams, enough power to drive people mad.
You like the power, too.
I remained silent as I felt the inside of this pod, the other demons engaged in some kind of orgasmic ritual. It resembled tantra, energetically. Yes, they were powerful indeed.
Join us, they said.
That’s when I saw it. At the center of the pod, there was the source of its power. It was a child. A boy, maybe seven years old. He was floating in a smaller pod, a transparent pod. His leg was being ripped from his torso, in slow motion. An invisible force controlled the dismemberment. The child was being tortured.
They showed me at least fifty different worlds where human pedophiles act as puppets, the wood gatherers of their everlasting fire. Any time a pedophile is taken over by his perverse urges, the demons are there. They reap the child’s Light by torturing its soul.
Children shine brighter than us all. They are innocent. Their connection to source is remarkably stronger than adults. A child is a much greater meal than even a teenager.
Join us, they said.
At this point, my body was ripping with agony. I could feel the child, feel its suffering in my bones. Save him? I was also being tortured. How could I save myself?
“Prem,” I said, into the silent night.
My soul brother was pacing in circles around us in the dark. He would later say, “Something was wrong. I felt something wrong up there.”
He stepped closer to me, as I was laying between blankets on the platform. “Yeah? You okay?”
I kept my eyes closed, still shivering, exhausted now. Fuck the demons. How would I survive the cold for another six hours? “I want to die, Prem.”
I saw the child in the bubble again, in a state of hell. I tried to look away, to feel something else. Couldn’t I control my own experience? Another wave of pain shattered my bones, it seemed.
Don’t look away, the demons said. Look closer.
The child’s arms were being torn apart. The agony seized my body, took the breath from my chest. At the same time, the demons seemed to reach some orgasmic peak.
I saw glimpses of men getting off. I saw the children they were raping. I saw the demons standing above. I saw the corpses of children.
Back to the pod, we moved through the multiverse at an accelerated rate.
Join us, they said.
Prem’s voice became lighter, but stronger at the same time. “No. You won’t die.”
“Let me die.” I broke down into a bawl. “It hurts too much. I can’t. Let me go, please. I can’t do this.”
Prem was closer now. I felt his energy over my left shoulder. He was squatting low. His voice shook me. “You can. Be strong.”
I saw the demons, their handsome faces. They were laughing now.
“I would never join you,” I sobbed.
They threw another kid into the fire.
I watched this ritual for an hour or so, while downloading information regarding my own bloodline. This is a curse, I thought.
I could never get the images out of my mind. I sometimes get flashbacks when I receive amber alerts or see missing child posters.
I cried for weeks.
Almost a year later. It was my first proper ceremony with a shaman who follows the traditional wisdom.
My Abuela came to me. She took me to a dark ritual on earth.
Under the cover of night, I saw men in black robes. Demons and angels. Children were being killed on a altar. I grieved for them.
I realized that I was a descendent of someone at this ritual. This is the curse my father told me about all my life. I thought he was just a crazy man, driven mad by his own share of darkness.
I had to break the curse, I thought.
A few months later, on my birthday, I was invited to join another medicine tribe. That was the night I saw the pillars.
Grandmother showed me how these dark systems work. Without these most evil rituals, the darkness would not sustain itself. Furthermore, it only becomes evil in extreme environments.
When the dark is balanced, it serves us well. When life, or Light is born into the third dimension, it marries the dark. This is what the Christians would call Original Sin. The Light needs the dark to survive its own evolution.
The Light is the Feminine energy. The Dark is the Masculine. Some say it is the other way around. I say, it depends on where you are standing. And it doesn’t matter.
There cannot be one without the other. In separation, they devolve. In Union, they thrive. All of existence depend on these dark systems to work. They serve us all.
The victims of the dark, these children, they volunteered as immortal souls, just like me. No one forced me to go on this mission.
You see, only the dark is fighting the dark, which perpetuates more of itself. These systems will stand as long as there is imbalance.
I don’t mean to make you afraid. There is really nothing to fear. The dark is servant to the Light. Dark cannot be where there is Light. Demons flee when you see their beauty, open your heart and offer them Love. Demons fear Love. It’s sunlight to a vampire.
Love is your protection. There is nothing greater than Love.
I Love the dark. Where there is Love, there is not fear. Since there is not fear, the darkness is powerless over me.
Now, I come to see that there is no real difference between the two. We experience duality and separation to understand Oneness and Union.
You cannot come into Sacred Union within while ignoring your own darkness. Your shadow self is you. There is no Union where one creates separation.
So, how does one do shadow work? You have to face all the parts of yourself that you hate. The shame, the guilt, the unworthiness, the loneliness, the brokenness, the anger, the pain. When you ignore your shadow, it becomes like a monster in the closet. It will get you and it will fuck you. It will repeat fucking you until you understand why.
The shadow self is like a neglected child. It only misbehaves because it needs attention. It needs Love. The more you push away this child. The more you hate it, the more drastic things it will do to get your attention.
If you are your own worst enemy, it may be time to make amends.
When the shadow is self is integrated, it acts to protect you. It will stand up for you, fight for you. It’s good at setting boundaries and saying no without apologies. It warns you when others are ill-intentioned. It’s your own personal body guard. Trust it.
When the shadow self is integrated, there is no evil. Evil can only thrive in extreme environments. Balance is the key.
Love is the remedy.