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In respect of culling, two things should be remembered. First, that we are, by our very sinister nature, amoral. Second, that culling is one of the primary things which serves to distinguish us - our sinister kind - from those who pretend to be sinister, of the Left Hand Path, or who describe themselves as “satanists" but who lack our inner sinister nature.

Balewa; I am and have been wicked. That is, I Am Gray – balanced between, and yet beyond, Light and Dark. And in this one statement there lies the reality of my life, and the essence of ληθαἀέ – that which lies behind the outer (false) appearance that covers or may conceal the real Reality beyond mundane perception and beyond all limited causal abstractions. As someone once wrote:

πολλὰς ἔχομεν ὁδούς κρύπτειν – ὀνομάζειν – τινὰ πράγματα

καὶ τὴν τέχνην, ὅταν ἐθέλωμεν φανερῶσαι τὴν σημασίαν αὐτῶν

We have many ways to conceal – to name – certain things

And the skill when we wish to expose their meaning

From wayward flocks in dire rest,

To enclave driven slumbers,

Now waken ye thy fallen crest,

And bathe in flame your lumbers.

Sing the songs and strafe the squares,

And face your changeling fears,

Then spiral dance the upward stairs,

Of wyrding helix spheres.

Brave the woods in darkest night,

With cruel abandon’s hymn,

Then come to life in endless fight,

When cosmic tides are dim.

Break the lock and smash the wall,

Then fast disarm the trap,

That siren blares the labyrinth call,

I had begun more intense devotion to Bhairavi. Since then things have occurred of a harsh nature, reminding me of the perishability and futility of the human ego or the human nature itself. A highlight of the situation occurred last night in my usual “mentorship“ by a Russian woman from the Abyss Nations Union. out of affinity and respect for her I sometimes refer to her as Maa or Bhairavi-she has not asked me to do such at all. It just happened one day suddenly – when she said “sometimes it’s like I’m your mother“.

Last night, in our unorthodox, and rather simple manner of communication, she swiftly dismembered several of my “ego – shields“ and revealed flaws or weaknesses in my beliefs and nature. It was not very nice or comfortable, and I ended up particularly angry and fed up with myself, whilst I could tell she was laughing her cruel laugh, knowing what I was thinking.

In regard to the worship of Krishna, she is skeptical.

She asked me – “Is Bhairava not your way? Do you want to wear white now and be like an angel? Do you want to be nice and polite? Do you want to quit drinking, smoking or having sex now? Do you want to smell sweet?”

“Do you want to worship Krishna or Bhairava?”

Bhairava, Bhairavi and the associated similar deities like Katari Amman or Kali-Maa-and one tradition –ONLY. Other things can be mentioned now and then – as being aspects of Bhairava and His remembrance or worship.

In my moments of Sauroctonos solitude, I’ve found solace and kindred spirits within the Sinister Tradition. It is a path misunderstood by many, demonized and marginalized, yet we persist. There’s something resilient about us, isn’t there? As if we are part of a cycle, a wheel that turns no matter how heavy the burden. Much like the unyielding cycles of nature, the wheel of life turns relentlessly, unaffected by any attempt to halt its course. To resist is a futile endeavor.

The Sinister Tradition’s beauty lies in the diversity of the paths we take forward. While most become lost in the labyrinth, there are those among us who emerge as extraordinary, even elite. I urge you to disregard the loud voices of edgelords and the public figures who sensationalize spooky and satanism—they are simply spinning in the labyrinth, and we will leave them there. You either evolve, or you remain as one who serves.

Yet even now I do not know what lies ahead

Now is my time to seek the glory of my Gods

That I may one day walk with Satan

In His world,

With His Bride

And that I may also Become

Something far greater than the mortal

I am leaving behind,

The mortal that must die

Dies irae, dies ilIa,

solvet saeclum in favilla,

teste Satan cum sybilla,

quantos tremor est futurus,

quando Vindex est venturus,

cuncta stricte discussurus,

ἔστι δ᾽ ὅπη νῦν

ἔστι: τελεῖται δ᾽ ἐς τὸ πεπρωμένον:

οὔθ᾽ ὑποκαίων οὔθ᾽ ὑπολείβων

οὔτε δακρύων ἀπύρων ἱερῶν

ὀργὰς ἀτενεῖς παραθέλξει

What is now, came to be

As it came to be. And its ending has been ordained.

No concealed laments, no concealed libations,

No unburnt offering

Lunar beams

Aeonic dreams

Night forever fallen

Blood and trees

The moon decrees