Tag Archives: dark

Different? Meh, Mayhaps, Closer to the Universal All-(Article One of Fairy Tales)

6 Aug

Different? Meh, Mayhaps, Closer to the Universal All-

(Article One)

 

Fairy tales…paranormal…esoteric knowledge…it’s all borne from the same primordial soup.

Snow White Grimms Fairy Tales

I was borne Snow-White in every sense of Her earliest label. Now, I am so much more but at my core, I will always be Her, Snow-White.

 

My life, not yours (you must figure out who you truly are, I mean, truly who you are, on your own), but mine, is just like an original Grimm Brothers Fairy Tale. Why? Because, I am, myself, A true fairy tale.

I am and it, just is.

~©Julia DarkRose 2017

*This is the first installment in my new series of articles labeled Fairy Tales.*

Broken?

2 Aug

Broken?

 

Broken

All that we know and all that we understand has the potential to be broken…all. In knowing this, whether or not humanity has a deeper understanding of it or not, why do you (we) fight for, sacrifice for, endure for, feel pain for, self-doubt for, abuse and be abused for, and even die for, that which can (and for almost everyone, at some point) and will be broken?

I know why I do it. Do you know why you do it?

Once broken, it (whatever that might be) can never be put back together the way that it was before. Sometimes, once it is broken, we can pick up some of those pieces and create something new, something stronger, yet, even then, it will still have the ability to break, again.

So, why do we do it?

Is creating something new out of the broken, better? Is it stronger, or rather, does it have the potential to be stronger, to be, in some ways, superior? Is that which breaks, an inevitable circumstance/lesson in life without which we can not truly reach our fullest and probable inherent meaningfulness? Without the broken, is the apex of our transcendence truly possible?

I know why I do it. Do you know why you do it?

Do you even know that real happiness fills us with sadness and tears?

Do you even really know how beautiful your face truly is?

I know. Do you know?

~©Julia DarkRose 2017

As I Walked Out One Evening-2017

27 Jul

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
I looked over his shoulder                                     Julia DarkRose FB 4
for vines and olive trees,
for marble, well-governed cities
and ships upon wine-dark seas;

But there on the shining metal
his hands had put instead
an artificial wilderness
and a sky like lead.
The stars are dead.
The animals will not look.

He, my deluded lover,
asked me to lay my sleepy head
upon his faithless arm.
Instead, I plunged my hands into the red water,
I plunged them in up to my elbow;
Stare, Oh how I stared into the basin
and I wondered why the world had chosen to miss
the shining darkness before them.

The glacier knocked in my cupboard,
the desert sighed in my bed,
and the crack in my tea cup opened.

So, I walked out onto the brightly lit lane,
it led to the land of the dead.

As I walked out one evening,
I went through the werewolf’s painful change.
Turning my head away
on the sweaty bolster, I tried to remember
the mood of my womanhood,
but lying in my sweat and blood, at last, as always,
letting it happen, the fierce fur,
soft to my face.

I now hear with sharper ears,
and live and love with the darkness
of my imagined fallen grace.
With my bestial understanding,
I open my wolfen eyes and truly see.…

The soul shrinks
from all that it is about to and should remember,
from the punctual rape of every blessed day, and cries,
“Oh, let there be nothing on earth
but what I choose to see,
nothing but rosy glasses to cover my eyes,
and gloves to cover my hands in the rising steam,
and guilty, blurred dances done in the sight of heaven.”

They never find the way out of their prison
and into the precious,
saving graces of the Darklight.
Pale souls they are, consumed by fear
of the living world they haunt.
Yet, they have not learned what habits lead them
to hunt what they do not want;
Nor have they learned who does not need them;
They are no one here,
until they are truly the someone they need to be.

Oh, what makes them so ugly, to me,
is self-inflicted ignorance.
Incurable ignorance.
I don’t want to harm them,
I think this very thought,
right up to the moment I slit their throats
with the truth.

I am touched with the moon’s red silver,
I am my own wolf sun,
made of human moonlight.

~Julia DarkRose
©2015/2017

Endarkment-Revised 2017

26 Jul

Endarkment
By Julia DarkRose
©2015/2017

 

Photographer: Jill Krueger, for ‘The DarkRose Journal’ photoshoot in 1995, I think, or thereabouts.

DRJ Photoshoot 1995

People are people because they’re miserable bastards…
Without misery, despair, and hardship, humanity would have no point, nothing to strive for, to overcome…humanity would truly self-destruct, even faster then they are now.
Just saying…

On the flip side-
The nature of life is passion. Passion is the total sense of being alive in every fiber of our being. It is a heightened awareness, and the ability to feel at peace and intense at the same time. A sense of ourselves as a rhythmic flow in harmony with the flow of the universe. This is what comes from true endarkment.

The endarkment (A word I created in 2000, while my now defunct House, Sable Brahmin, was a part of the Sanguinarium) consciousness means conscious growth, conscious life, means becoming wiser, more fulfilled, more powerful (power is subjective, think empowered), more intelligent, and happier as you become one with the endarkment of the divine source.

Endarkment is the lover, the loving and the beloved all in one-love and the self are one and the discovery of either is the realization of both.

The universe, the divine, the self…Are all encompassing of that which we call the human animal.

It makes no difference what you choose to have faith in, what gods or goddesses you believe you draw power from. The truth, as I know it, is simply that whatever higher consciousness exists, it is so far beyond our own capability of understanding and imagination that just knowing a higher “power” exists and may or may not even know of our existence, matters not, to me. People can only understand what their minds allow them to imagine. To give deities, spirits, angels, gods, goddesses, demons, or whatever your choice of focus is, all the best and worst of the human condition, is, of course, what humanity does best and then, more often than not, builds their life and their childrens lives and so forth and so on, around said imagination. In the end, to me, I see no difference (the violence and hatred derived from organized religions and/or cults aside) in believing in what the human imagination conjures forth or accepting that the higher intelligence is far beyond our grasp of understanding and to simply choose to be a worthwhile being upon this planet of ours, without the promise of reward for doing so.

This understanding, to me, is a vital part of endarkment.

The body is the supreme temple of transformation, the place where all the forces of the Universe gather to be channeled and transformed into a higher integral order of nature and “spirit”…

Sexuality is not what separates us from enlightenment. Sexuality is an inherent quality of our earth experience which merges us into enlightenment (endarkment for some)…

The earth, our world, is its own magic!

Why are the so called enlightened and/or awakened people, always looking for the truths of our Universe outside of their bodies? Why are they always looking everywhere except the one place where their answers lie…inside of them? The truths which they seek, the enlightenment they desire, is not outside of the physical, it is alive within the physical body…the answers are so simple…really.

You cannot, I repeat, you cannot reach or perceive any other realm, you cannot reach or perceive transcendence without your physical body. You can only perceive/experience a “spiritual” realm with your mind, which is…a part of your very physical body. It’s not any kind of pseudoscience or physics or metaphysical hooey, it’s common sense.

It’s not enough to merely exist. It’s not enough to merely be alive. It’s the fire of life that burns within, and that ignites the fiery blaze of passion that changes us from an entity that is simply being, to one that is a being of abundance and meaning.

I open my arms for all creatures who wish to share in the fiery passions of the night, who,like the night-time butterfly, feel that a coterie of kindred spirits would be a welcome relief from the uncertainty and harsh unforgiving false love and lies of the day light world, as it goes skittering by.

The flames of passion burn deeply in all of us. You just have to want to feel the warmth of it’s embrace.

Welcome to my Darklight…

Into The New DarkLight

I am the darklight of all days that are passed, and my name is evolution.
I am the darklight of this day today, and my name is renewal.
I am the darklight of all days to be, and my name is
revelation…

Ancient flesh turned to stone,
Whitened dust of ancient bone,
Pure as death, cold as snow,
Dead thou wast, but livest now.
Crystal crushed, vision broken,
Spirit fettered, words unspoken,
What is frozen shall be warm,
What is formless shall take form,
What was scattered shall be whole,
Given life within this deceiver’s wasteland.

White of petals, white of ice,
White of dust and white of stone,
White of crystal, white of bone,
All things keeping, all things giving,
Out of nothing, all things living,
Out of emptiness, all darklight,
Out of blindness, now our sight.

I am now the crimson Light risen out of pure darkness:
From my brow springs all life again and again.
I am now evolved, I am now renewed,
I am now thy hope, and thy covenant, and thy
revelation.

I am alive; I wake from within my own dark embrace;
The white owl ascends, and I rise…

Out of the whitened ashes of humanity’s fire,
Out of the white stone and the white crystal,
Out of the pure white flame;
My feathers are scarlet and they are azure,
They are fiery, they are verdant,
They are golden, and they are of royal purple;
I am all things living,
I am the spring and the summer,
I am the autumn and the winter,
I am time, I am revelation,
I burn from this first dawn
Even unto the last darkness of this glorious life
Into which I will fall
And from which I will rise again…

I do not end, I am the DarkLight,
I have just begun!

Welcome to renewal, healing,
empowerment, self-revelation, and true
transformation within the beautiful,
rejuvenating, Darkness.
From within your very own flames
of self-evolution.
Stand up and rise from the ashes!
~Julia DarkRose
©2015/2017

*What does your endarkment (enlightenment) consist of?*

Ebon Rhapsody

23 Jul

http://wp.me/p2LIGR-sn

bird-woman

Fine Print

23 Jul

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Cover Six 2.0

The Dark-Re-Vamped

23 Aug

Just another excerpt from ‘The DarkRose Journal’ and the thoughts that occupy my mind. This excerpt is from the original DRJ from the early 90’s. Enjoy the dark pleasures…

The Dark
By DarkRose
© 1996

Re-published (But not re-written or edited) in Issue 5 of the DRJ-Re-Vamped
©2013
*Images are from issue 5-2013.*

It was dark…
So very, very, dark:
An envelope of darkness.

And it was warm…
So very, very, warm:
An envelope of warmth.

And the only sound
Was the distant, comforting murmur
Of the Great Being.

It was, in other words, a perfect place.

This is the opening of a short story* that describes the pre-natal comfort and security of the womb. This is how I feel about the Dark: warm, secure, comforting. I reflect in the irony that so many people are afraid of the dark-the literal as well as the abstract-when it was the dark in which we all lived so peacefully for those nine or so months. It was the glare and the harshness that caused us to first wish we had never been born; to wish we could retreat to whence we came; to go back into the Dark.
So we see that the body and the spirit have a natural affinity for the darkness. It is only through learned responses and the anti-dark prattle of others that we become fearful of the dark. We are told that the dark provides safe harbor for the evil and nefarious, that the dark obscures the truth, and that the dark is the last refuge of the weak of spirit. Nothing could be further from the truth.
We must start our understanding of the Dark by shattering the biggest misconception there is-that of the dark as a place of Evil. If being of the Light is necessarily good, so goes the argument, then being of the Dark is necessarily bad. Neither of these positions is accurate-at least not for everybody.
This idea stems from the human need to put things in two categories. Yes and No. Wrong and Right. Good and Bad. Black and White. Light and Dark. The problem is that there is not a person known who is totally good, or totally evil. We’re told that even Hitler loved children and animals; that even Jesus Christ lost his temper and promoted alcoholic beverages; and that even the Prince of Darkness is a perfect gentleman. Yet we seek a balance. An eye for an eye. A yin to a yang. A tit for a tat. Quid pro quo. And a Dark for a Light. Since most people see themselves as creatures of the light, and they further perceive themselves as good and worthy, which leaves the balance to fall to the dark, and thus is created a world of evil.
You stub your toe in the dark, the cat springs at your feet in the dark, you lose your way in the dark. That’s where the bogeyman lives, in the dark-and it must be true, because our parents said so. You shouldn’t wander the streets at night. Why? Because it’s late? No, because it’s dark. Light a candle, flip a switch, turn something on-dispel the dark!
In medieval times a solar eclipse was a portend of impending doom. Even a dark cloud passing in front of the sun at the wrong moment could brand someone a witch. In the darkness there is the Unknown, and the human animal is by nature terrified of the unknown. Beyond these seas there be dragons, the cartographers warned. Beyond the dragons, there be the edge of the world. And once you fall off the edge of the world, there be eternal darkness. Magellan finally put a stop to that, but his crew kept a wary eye out for dragons anyway!
The Unknown. The Dark is the perfect metaphoric hiding place for all that we do not understand. Our fears. Our biases. Our hatreds. And most of all, that part of ourselves that we do not wish to examine in the bright light. Yes, my dear friends, the Dark is the ultimate scapegoat; the repository of our sins, real and imagined. But just as one can clean out the cobwebs of a spooky old attic and then enjoy the treasures that are revealed, so can we all learn to if not love, then at least appreciate the dark.
But is it true? Is there evil there? Some. There are deceitful spirits and lost souls and a certain amount of karmic dredge. But there is much more of that in the Light. The contemptible con man that cleans out his victim’s bank account does so with a pressed suit and an engaging smile, not with a black hood and mask. The church goer sings long and loudly in the pew as sunlight streams through the stained glass window, then rushes out to bed his neighbor’s wife. The perfect housewife dumps out a half gallon of milk exactly on the due date, then snorts in derision as she passes a homeless family on the street. And it’s all done by the good and pure people of the Light. Jeffrey Dahmer was the boy next door. Ted Bundy wad the Boy Scout next door. John Wayne Gacy was the clown next door. Tit for tat. Quid pro quo.
So instead of being turned away by the perceived evil of the dark, let’s look to see what else there might be in there. We’ve admitted that it’s hard to see in there, so let’s step in long enough to let our eyes grow accustomed. As the pupils dilate, so let the mind open and expand. Let the senses be aware. Let the soul be eager.
Let’s imagine a scenario. It is somewhere around the year 1200. We’re in England-a scary place at that time, until you realize the rest of the world is even scarier. Power and position come much more swiftly at the point of a sword than the nub of a pen. The local sheriff is subservient to the Earl, and enforces the law as it is convenient and handy. To get from one town to another, one must walk-only the rich have horses. And to walk on these roads is to take your life in your hands. Bands of outlaws have free reign outside the gates of the city, and are eager to relieve a passerby of their purse and their life. The outlaws live in the thick forest; since by their outlaw status, they are denied citizenship. Thus the forest is a place of the Unknown. Evil lurks there. The forest is the Dark. Beyond these woods there be dragons. Beyond these dragons there be death.
Everyone has his or her place in the pecking order. Peasants serve craftsman, serfs serve knights who serve nobility who serve the king. Everything in the system works until someone decides that they don’t wish to be a part of the accepted system. Maybe they feel they should be able to own land without having the royal blessing; maybe they feel they should be able to have authority without having a noble lineage; maybe they feel they should be able to worship according to their own belief system rather than that of the powerful Church. Whatever the reasons, these people feel slightly apart from the norm. They are independent. They are the exception, rather than the rule. They cluster in small groups of like-minded souls, finding solace in the very few who also wish to chart their own course. They realize they can’t continue living in the city, because the city is very intolerant of those who are intolerant of the city. People hang for things like that. They want to go live in the forest, because there the city will leave them alone. But the forest is Dark, and in the Dark, there is evil.
This small band of society’s displaced ventures tentatively into the woods, keeping their eyes and ears open for the dangers that dwell there. They find a cave. It is dry and warm, but it is also dark. Their desperation finally overcomes their fear, and they move into the cave. It’s not bad. As a matter of fact, they become quite comfortable there. Other people hear about this new little sub-society in the forest, and the braver of them venture past their apprehensions and find the cave. They, too, find support there.
All of these formerly displaced people are now placed. They have found a home in the Dark. And they are making discoveries-the differences between their home in the Dark and their old residence in the Light. Now please don’t misunderstand me when I say that these people lived in the Dark. That doesn’t necessarily mean that they lived in actual darkness, that there was no light, and that they had to stumble around in an unseen void until their senses developed bat-like sonar. They used candles. They used lanterns. They built fires. They were artists and writers and mathematicians and scientists and scholars and parents and clerics and sellers and buyers and all the kinds of things that people of the Light are-and for these activities they had to dispell the physical darkness. They had to venture out of the cave to interact and commune with the world outside. They were bifunctional. They moved at ease in both worlds, when necessary. It’s just that for their personal growth and nourishment they preferred the Dark.
Why? Because the Dark is an incredibly sensual place. Their sense of being has become focused. Their senses of being have become sharpened. When they seek pleasures, they are rewarded with ecstasy. Intense touches, intense aromas, intense sights and sounds. They have never known an odor so fragrant and full-bodied, or a taste so fulfilling, or a sight so beautiful. They have never known an orgasm so full of love and so full of life.
They have discovered that the Dark, rather than serving to mask and deceive, does instead act as a filter. It forbids the invasion of the cluttered and confused. It intimidates the cowardly and short-sighted. It makes a barrier that the hypocrite and self-deceiver find hard to penetrate. The kindred spirits of Thoreau, Epicurus, and Dionysus make it past. Diogenes shines his lantern approvingly here.
The cave-dwellers, those disciples of the Dark, live in one with their surroundings. They love nature, for it is nature that has given them their safe haven. They do not wish to exploit their fellow denizen, because that is their family. They do not want to shut out that which is mysterious and incomprehensible, for it is there that new knowledge and discovery dwell. They sincerely wish to find their inner spirit, for that is their essence. They sincerely wish to find their other kindred, for with them is their past and their future. They learn to look at everything that comes their way with an appreciative and curious eye. In the Dark, things reveal themselves slowly, but once they are revealed, they are true and pure. It is only in the Light that there is a need for pretense and masquerade, for it is only in the Light that judgments are handed down based on surface rather than substance.
These cave-dweller citizens of the Dark were my ancestors. They were my family. I, was one of them. I watched from the safety of my cave as the outside world slowly turned increasingly to turmoil and destruction. I ventured out as necessary, for my life in the Dark better equipped me to deal with life in the Light. I was on to them, yet they were helpless and blind in my Dark.
I was then, I am now, and I will always be, a daughter of the Dark. Night* is my Mother. And, I, her faithful child continue to find solace within her dark embrace. My lover, my teacher, my immortal Mother opens her veins to me, and I drink. From her flows the blood of life. The blood of life washes my soul clean. I bathe in its sensuality and truth. I celebrate its wisdom and beauty.
It is time for all of Night’s children to come home. Our great immortal Mother longs to embrace her lost children with her black wings of endarkment. She longs to fill your mortal life with dark pleasure and love. She longs to teach your spirit the wisdom of the Dark. She patiently awaits for the return of her beloved and beautiful children.
Although my recollection of what came before is sometimes dim, my spirit most assuredly remembers the dark from whence it came. It recalls fondly the security and comfort that was found there, and it rejoices that I have found my way back.
I look out from the Dark with bright eyes, and my senses revel in its erotic purity. The Dark is home, and the home is Dark. Welcome to my home.

*From “Light at the End of the Tunnel” copyright 1985 by L.L. Hart
*Night, also known as Lilith, the Sumerian goddess of beauty, sexuality, and truth; in Judaism, the mother of darkness and demons.

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