Blog

  • Reimagining Sexuality

    I don’t buy the lie that sexuality has to fit in somebody else’s box. Gay, straight, queer—those labels don’t define the truth of you. Who you’re attracted to, who you touch, who you love, how you build relationships] none of that has to be handed over for outside approval.

    I’ve watched too many people fold themselves small to fit a script they never wrote. That script was built by the same systems that police bodies, police desire, and control the words we’re “allowed” to use to name ourselves.

    We’ve been trained to measure our worth by scarcity. To treat love like a market and desire like a commodity. To swipe and shop for “the best” and buy all we can afford. And then we’re told, quietly but constantly: You’ll never really belong.

    That’s not truth. That’s training.
    Training that says love is rationed. Pleasure is conditional. Sexuality is a permission slip someone else has the power to tear up.

    Fuck that.
    My sexuality is yes.

    Audre Lorde taught me that the erotic isn’t just sex that’s where most people get it wrong. It’s a well of power. A resource for living fully. It’s joy as resistance. It’s connection that bows to your deepest yes. And when you start from abundance, that well doesn’t run dry.

    In abundance, there’s no hierarchy of who’s “allowed” to feel whole. No ranking of relationships or people. No performance for an audience that isn’t even watching. Sexuality is fluid. Self-defined. Alive.

    Desire stops being a shield.
    It becomes a mirror.
    And you finally see yourself—unapologetic, unshaken, untamed.

  • Erase the Word, Reclaim the World

    A recent comment sent me this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBkbyrlUE3M. It reminded me of something I have yet to write—the power of words. Words are sigils. Most people don’t see it. Most people never read past the surface. But words shape thoughts, and thoughts shape reality. Control the words, and you control the world: perception, desire, belief. Words codifies a worldview and erases others. Words are not neutral. They carry beliefs that we inherit.

    Look closer at the words you think. re those words in your own voice? Did you know your internal voice makes no sound? Those words were handed to you with frameworks, definitions, and concepts attached and you never questioned them. Did you think it was weird when you first heard words like grandrising or innerstanding? Did you ignore it? Did you even hear it at all? Why? Was it because it conflicted with your worldview and your automatic response ? Did it even take a second for you to dismiss it? That is because those beliefs are not your own.

    Language doesn’t just label reality—it writes it. God. Nature. Civilization. Progress. Every term carries a judgment, a hierarchy, a worldview. “Nature” became something to dominate, not to inhabit. “Progress” became expansion, conquest, abstraction over community. Words encode assumptions. They carry power. This is how sigils work. It’s structural. it deliberate strategy. Remove the words, and remove entire ways of knowing .

    The more you understand language, the less you need it. Words are metaphors. They point, but they cannot contain. Yet we forget. We adopt terms, concepts, and hand over our power. To think freely, you must first see how your beliefs are scaffolded on words you never chose. Erase the word. Reclaim the concept. Rebuild thought from a place of spiritual clarity, ancestral insight, and conscious choice.

  • The Tides of Practice

    I’ve learned my practice moves in waves.
    There are seasons where I’m buried in research — reading, mapping out systems, pulling threads together until the whole thing hums. Then, without warning, it shifts into raw ritual… spellwork burning at the edges.

    After that comes embodiment — the slow, deliberate weaving of those changes into the way I live and move.

    And then… nothing.
    No spark. No pull. Just silence.

    Sometimes it feels like a choice. Other times, like something greater is pushing me — tides I can’t name, but can only ride.

    Are these patterns born of my own design, or do they belong to something older… something that moves us all?

  • The Reality Hacker’s Library

    If the chaos and raw current of The Art of Fucking with Reality lit something up in you, here’s your next stack of spell-fuel—books that teach, tease, and tear open reality in their own ways.

    Magick & Reality Hacking

    • Modern Magick: Eleven Lessons in the High Magickal Arts — Donald Michael Kraig
    • Modern Sex Magick: Secrets of Erotic Spirituality — Donald Michael Kraig
    • Brain Magick: Exercises in Meta-Magick and Invocation — James Farber
    • Condensed Chaos: An Introduction to Chaos Magic — Phil Hine
    • Generation Hex — Jason Louv
    • Book of Lies: The Disinformation Guide to Magick and the Occult — Richard Metzger
    • Practical Sigil Magic: Creating Personal Symbols for Success — Frater UD
    • Advanced Magick for Beginners — Alan Chapman
    • The Mystery of the Cathedrals — Fulcanelli

    Psychology, Shadow, & Self-Alchemy

    • The Four Agreements — Don Miguel Ruiz
    • The Power of Now — Eckhart Tolle
    • Nonviolent Communication — Marshall Rosenberg
    • The Art of Loving — Erich Fromm
    • The Body Keeps the Score — Bessel van der Kolk
    • Waking the Tiger — Peter A. Levine
    • Existential Kink — Carolyn Elliott
    • Becoming Supernatural — Joe Dispenza
    • The Energy Codes — Dr. Sue Morter
    • The Alchemist — Paulo Coelho

    Why this list?
    Because magick isn’t just ritual—it’s rewiring your mind, fucking with your story, and learning to dance with the raw, unfiltered current of life. These books range from hard occult tech to deep psychological reprogramming, from ancient frameworks to pure chaos-born experimentation.

    Read them. Break them. Remix them. Let them become tools, toys, and torches.
    Because you’re not here to follow.
    You’re here to make reality your plaything.

  • BDSM, Kink & Ritual: The Dark Doorway

    The air around me vibrates. It hums with power.

    My sanctuary is sweat, breath, and pulse—found in the heat of the moment, in the intoxicating exchange that strips away every falsehood you thought could protect you.

    For me, BDSM is more than play. Every scene is a working. Every strike is a sigil carved into flesh. Every breath is a silent offering. This is not escape—it’s the place where reality bends to my will. The body is the altar, the temple, and the sacrifice.

    The first time I held someone’s life in my hands, I knew: this was more. In that space, taboo is not forbidden—it’s sacred. Fear, pain, anxiety, stress, worry—these are instruments in the divine choir, a symphony for your shadows and your gods. It is dangerous. I like that danger.

    We begin by drawing the circle and naming the intent. Tools lie ready. Music hums low. Bodies are consecrated by touch, by breath, by oil.

    The moment roles are assumed, we call in archetypes. We invoke gods.

    Then the work begins. The bass of a strike on flesh. The hiss of rope tightening. Those chants you call moans. We carry that beat within us until the trance cracks the mind open and everything rushes in—release, collapse, surrender, climax—the moment of manifestation.

    We close with grounding touch and care, pouring libations, speaking gratitude. The circle is sealed, and the magic lingers in the body.

    The Great Alchemy


    This is the courage to dissolve the ego and trust completely.
    To submit is not to weaken—it is to choose surrender, knowing you are still sovereign.
    To dominate is to hold the keys to the temple, guiding another through the fire with fierce, protective precision.

    Pain as Crucible


    Pain, consensual and intentional, strips the soul bare, burns away the noise, and leaves only truth.

    The Oldest Temple


    The body is the first temple. Sweat, saliva, sexual essence—they are the elixirs of life, offerings poured out for gods. To taste is to merge essences, to mingle life force in a primal act older than civilization itself.

    If you would walk this path:

    • Set your intentions.
    • Invoke your chosen powers.
    • Prepare your space.
    • Infuse every act with consciousness.
    • Close and ground with care.

    Above all: consent is the circle. Without it, there is no magic

    I do not separate kink It is flesh, breath, hunger, and shadow.

    Here, you will not be shamed for your desire, your power, or your softness. You do not have to prove yourself—your presence, your truth, and your willingness are enough. Your vulnerability will not be weaponized. Surrender here is a choice, never a demand.

    You will not be misunderstood for being “too much.”
    You will be seen.
    You will be held.
    You will be free to meet the gods with your whole self—naked, trembling, and unafraid.

  • Sacred Exchange: Building and Navigating Spiritual Dynamics

    I want to explore living a deliberate spiritual power dynamic as a path of discipline, growth, and freedom.

    Spiritual dynamics are a different caliber of connection. They demand more vetting, smaller contracts, ongoing renegotiations, and lots of communication. I share this because I’ve failed here and paid a price. That loss is real and painful — a reminder that spiritual power exchange requires patience and respect. Build carefully. Communicate openly. Be willing to grow.

    A spiritual power exchange dynamic is not casual.

    That means you need:

    • A vetting period: Spend time learning each other’s limits, triggers, communication styles, and values before jumping into big commitments.
    • Smaller contracts: Start with limited agreements — maybe rules that apply only during specific times or certain activities.
    • Regularly revisit your agreements: People change, situations change, and a spiritual dynamic demands intentional ongoing consent and communication.

    Building Your Dynamic

    • Only add one rule at a time, so you don’t overwhelm yourselves or create conflicts.
    • Keep your total number of rules manageable so you both can remember and follow them.
    • Enforce rules consistently — a rule ignored is a rule dead.
    • Be ready to drop or modify rules if life changes or they just don’t work.
    • Decide what the power exchange covers. Interaction with other partners? Goals? Motivations? Drives?
    • Decide when the dynamic applies. Only during in-person play? Only when a collar is worn? There’s no right or wrong.

    When Conflict Arises

    Power exchange can be intense. When conflicts come up, resist the urge to “fix” things or walk away. Instead:

    • Step out of the role.
    • Remove symbols respectfully and with intention.
    • Speak as equals, using real names.
    • Aim to find solutions that work for both of you.

    Remember This About Spiritual Dynamics

    What makes a spiritual dynamic different is the purpose behind it — and that purpose is deeply personal. Whether you’re seeking to learn more about yourself through service to another, or seeking clarity through asceticism, that reason is personal.

    So, ask what your partner gets from protocols, and share what you get too. Make it personal.

    Rituals, symbols, and ceremonies matter — treat them carefully.

    Don’t copy-paste from past dynamics.

    Honesty is Rule Zero. Break that, and you break everything.

    Additional Notes

    • Non-monogamy and spiritual power exchange can coexist but require ongoing negotiation and Failsafe conversations.
    • Your dynamic will evolve as you meet goals, benchmarks, and milestones.
    • Discuss what breakup or transition out of the dynamic looks like — it’s a hard conversation, but important.
    • Mental health matters — depression or trauma affect dynamics deeply. Support your partner.
    • Narcissism kills spiritual power exchange; mutual respect and interest fuel it.

    Final Thoughts

    Living a deliberate spiritual power dynamic is a path of discipline, growth, and freedom. It’s messy, challenging, and deeply rewarding.

  • How we touch: universal human language

    When I say rope is touch, we step past knots and techniques.

    It’s about how you touch them and what you communicate with that touch.

    I’m not talking about casual contact. I mean deliberate, intentional contact that can:

    • Give you a container to explore your shadow, your desire, your truth.
    • Push against rules and norms you’ve outgrown.
    • Make restriction feel like liberation.
    • Create a deep bond built on trust.
    • Use energy and intention to move you somewhere new.

    Every pull of the rope sends a message. Choose what that message is. Change it to shift the energy—fast to demand, slow to invite. Let the rope hold them how you can’t, and don’t stop touching them yourself. Tie them the way you’d touch them without rope.

    Rope is an extension of your will. It’s your hand, your voice, your energy. It tells them they are wanted, they were chosen—not by accident, but by design. Touch can be that conduit, carrying intention, devotion, and energy. You can use deliberate strokes to awaken different parts of the body—parts that may have been forgotten. Rope can do the same—wrapping, pressing, releasing—each change in tension activates a certain point.

    Touch can shape your awareness and release stored emotions by placing the body in intentional positions—to stretch, to limit, to deepen, and to sink into stillness. The subtle tugs and rocking can be used to anchor attention and sensation, each shift a reminder to “be here now.” Rope can also be used to tighten on the inhale and loosen on the exhale, creating a rhythm with breathing—drawing in a breath to contain and releasing that breath to let go.

  • Taking Control

    When someone places their body in your hands, they’re offering a form of trust that is ancient and intimate.

    In that moment, you are not just a “top” — you are a steward, a sheperd, and a guardain:

    Receive what they offer fully. If they want to struggle, build a shape that feeds their fire. If they want to feel small, guide their posture into a shape they didn’t know they could hold.

    Be clear in the ritual of choice. Instead of asking “How do you want to be tied?” ask, “How would you like to feel”, “how would you like to look”, “what do you want to think” clarity changes everything.

    Rope is the amplifier. A caress becomes a lightning strike when they cannot move. A pause becomes an eternity when they must be still.

    Surrender is an act of creation. The more clearly you speak your desires, the deeper in rope you can go.

    Tell your partner not only what shapes you want, but how you want to feel in them. Tell them where you want to surrender control. By knowing your thresholds and your cravings, you can guide the rope into the most potent version of yourself.

    Rope is co-authored transformation.It’s an agreement to step into an altered state together where you draws the paths with your hands.

  • The Nature of Control

    Rope is never a surprise. This is sacred work that requires open-hearted communication, deep consent, and the freedom for anyone to step away at any time.

    Rope is often described as a power exchange — but in its deeper currents, it’s an invitation to step into the architecture of someone’s body, energy, and spirit. It’s a way of shaping not just what they can do, but how they feel themselves existing in this moment.

    When you take rope in hand, you’re not just removing mobility. You are sculpting the way your partner inhabits their own body.

    At first, there is the obvious: you can’t reach with tied wrists , you can’t wander with bound ankles . But rope is also about subtle redirection — shaping lines and shapes of the body, inviting the body to open or curl in, shifting the weight until you breath different.

    These shifts alter more than proprioception. They can awaken or quiet mind, dissolve mental barriers, and reframe body image. Rope can acsend someone in space and also into a new state of being

    Rope opens a body like a doorway. Once that doorway is open, every sensation — a brush of skin, a pulse of heat, a impact, a whisper — lands deeper.

    Vulnerability isn’t just physical; it’s energetic.

    And the process of tying is its own kind of ceremony: the rhythm of your hands, the pauses between pulls, the deliberate tightening. Each action is a cue to the nervous system, a signal to the soul. part of the surrender.

  • Step Into the Fire, its warm

    Fine. Make me your villain.
    You could have walked away, but you stayed. You screamed. You dragged a crowd to watch me fall—now you’ll watch me rise.

    I’m a sadist. I deal in fear, pain, pleasure, and surrender. I’m dark, heavy, and dangerous. I don’t hide that. I don’t it dress up. And I don’t care if you approve.

    You want safe and cute? Leave .
    You want truth?Come .

    your comfort doesn’t matter. the crowd cant’ save you. When you’re shallow, dishonest, and unprepared, you wont make it

    You wanted the fire? Now burn.