During almost forty Gregorian years of this brain’s mindless (unaware) activity, its automatic awakened and alerted instinctive somatic state (of its cerebral organ’s conscious), continued operating and animating in the absence of my mental active force (soul).
As many of my readers and followers already know, the deactivation of my psychosomatic mental force began during the third grade, in the Bronx of New York—and did not reactivated (resurrected) since of October 25, of 2005—in Woodhaven Queens, of New York.
When this material brain finally re-paralleled with the immaterial mind—through the mediation of my juxtapositional psychosomatic hybrid fusion (which is, my very own autonomous, invisible, biological, mental active force)—my awareness was, and still is, reinstated; and this automaton conscious is then re-elevated to an autonomous consciousness status (i.e., a conscious, infused with awareness).
During the reviving of my psychosomatic mental fusion, the status of my mental awareness was at first fluctuant—akin to amorphous—for that is how its status was, before its deactivation—and that is how its status still was, after its reactivation. And since this soma (physical animating body) was way too in advanced with its formations and knowledge, for the resurrection of my mental formless activity, it is shrouded, in the shadow for now, to protect it from this alienable soma—until it would then develop enough to deal with this soma, sanely and logically. But at the very first particular reactivation of my mental being, all that IT could’ve done then, was to just be in amazement that this body was much older; with bigger hands, and bigger everything—in a strange place—that this automaton soma must’ve obviously rented, during the retardation of my awareness. And where does the Saint Barbara plays in all this? A lot! Actually, in a very large scale—and it has a lot to do with the reactivation of my mental awareness.
In my reinstated awareness, my being noticed an almost life-sized statue of a St. Barbara, in the studio apartment then, as mentioned above—with a 7 day red candle lit to her. It was a very frightening sight, for the statue itself was a bit huge—and all the other statues of Catholic saints, among with other pagan god statues too (e.g., the Egyptian Heket, the Levi’s Baphomet, the Latin Venus, and many others), were way smaller in comparison to the St. Barbara. And there were other adorning statues around the apartment, like a huge plain white gargoyle on a large Roman like pedestal, a small Chimera cat with wings relaxed, an Egyptian Sphinx, and a fearsome canine with fierce teeth and wings. And there were a lot of different shapes of candles lit on the altar in dedication to the smaller statues—and with a symbol on the wall (e.g., an encircled pentagram). Of course, my being didn’t know what all this meant as soon as my awareness was resurrected—IT first had to look up the information—and lot of the info were also available in the written notes, and in the computer, then. But this was just my beginning with her: In the almost forty years of my absence, however, this automaton soma began with her when it was just about 20 years old; that is, in accordance to what my mother and younger bother (that my being did not know of then) had informed my being all about it.
It all began in my end, when my abnormally prolonged rootless, exposed, and therefore, defenseless mental force activity was deactivated by my abusive caretakers—for the abuse was so tremendously extreme and disturbing, that nothing could be developed in phrenic core activities, even though, connections were still established with automaton somatic memories, which was even worse (e.g., for even the linked injurious memories themselves were also preventing phrenic fortifications)—and therefore, they were able to take full control of this cerebral organ, by disbanding my protracted amorphous mental force. Causing then, my automaton somatic conscious to parallel with an invading automaton psychosomatic thought hypnosis—producing then, a genuine simulated consciousness.
So, with my psychosomatic autonomy end, Israel (the illegally transferred soma identity—then, and still alienable) began, in somatic automation.
In accordance to my mother’s account, as to what has happened to this alienable soma—in my mental absence—Israel began to worship Saint Barbara in his twentieth birthday, in her house at Corona, Queens, NY.
My mother had informed my being, that Israel always wanted to have a sex change since his early teen years, but that decision went all away when he started in the worship of the Catholic deity, Saint Barbara. She even mentioned that Israel had tried to commit suicide on more than one occasion(s), because he did not wanted to do wrong in the eyes of the Creator (Jehovah), by practicing homosexuality: Hence, taking a sex change would have resolved that dilemma. It seems that Israel was always somehow automatically religiously controlled, for before his encountered with the St. Barbara, when he was only 11 years old, my mother had informed that he had said he wanted a statue of Saint Expeditus, when my father asked him what he wanted as a present for Christmas.
My mother said that Israel first began with a small portrait of the mythological Saint Barbara, and that he served her two apples on the altar—carved them out as if one would be carving out a pumpkin for Halloween, and fill them up with honey, covering them with their cutout top pieces—also, a glass goblet filled with red wine—additionally, he offered her cooked farina with bits of okras on top, and a half of cigar on an ashtray, that he used to fumigate Barbara’s portrait with—and finally, a red 7 day lit candle. And that he fervently prayed day and night, for he was told by many (including my mother) that he was born to, a trabajar en la obra (i.e., to work on/in the job) with the saints, in order to help many in need.
Eventually, Israel began to read books on the occult—about Santeria and witchcraft, the art and casting of spells, divination, necromancy, medium, ectoplasm, conjurations, levitation, astral-projection—and books about the Baphomet, by the author Levi, on the issues of “Transcendental Magic:” also, the book of, “The Golden Dawn,” by Israel Regardie: the book of, “Magick,” by Aleister Crowley: and the books of, “A Witches Bible” (all volumes), by Janet and Stewart Farrar—and many more books. Eventually, he filled a room dedicated solely to the saints and pagan gods/goddesses—but that he always had his St. Barbara isolated on her own altar, while the others were mixed on huge altars—and that he then, began to master the art of sorcery.
My mother said that Israel learned to read fortunes by means of coffee residues in a cup, that is, after a customer would finish drinking it—also, the reading of tea leaves. Additionally, he also began the reading of hot white wax, that were dripped in a black bowl, filled with chilled water, so that the shapes the wax would instantly form, Israel would read fortunes from them. He also used crystals, crystal balls, and a bowl filled with water, with a crucifix inserted, to read fortunes. However, out of the many fortunetelling tools that Israel have used, my mother said that the Tarot Cards was his top choice. That with those cards, Israel never made an error in his fortune readings. And that by means of his ability and skills in reading such cards, many came to him for help, answers and solutions—that when they would leave after a reading session with him, they’ve always told my mother, in a stunned manner, “There’s no one like him, out there.”
My mother and brother said, that for a long time, Israel accumulated customers awaiting for him—that no matter how long each fortune telling session took, they’ve waited. Israel helped many of his customers win court cases, and that it did not matter whether a case was in the right or wrong, he would help them anyway, successfully. According to my mother and younger brother, there was a situation when Israel helped a man named, Frankie, on a very short notice. That Frankie had committed a minor crime but yet, was scheduled to appear in court to receive his sentence the next day—so he came to Israel asking for help, with heavy doubts in his head—but Israel assured him that he would not be sentenced, because he had explained to Frankie that no authority (right or wrong) is greater then the saints of the heavenly places. So he cast a spell in Frankie’s name, and in the name of the assigned judge, also. Then, in accordance to what Israel had told my mother, she said that he said, that when Frankie arrived just in time for his sentence and the court hearing began, there were some sudden discrepancies on the files that lead up to a heated pandemonium—that it got so bad, that the judge himself (in anger) had to shout and dismiss the case in its entirety—and that Frankie walked out stunned—and at that, Israel had made a new friend with Frankie since then. There was even another situation in whereas Frankie broke parole on several occasions, and that because of it, he was then sent to an adolescent military like home, somewhere in upstate, New York—in order so that he can be helped to become better person. My mother then said that Israel told her, that when Frankie arrived there, it was so militant, and so rough, that he had to call Israel before going to bed, and begged him to get him out—and that Israel told him not to worry, that he’ll be leaving that same night he called—but Frankie again had his doubts. However, on that very same night, in the middle of his deep sleep, Frankie was suddenly awoken by some members in charge, and that they aggressively threw his stuff at him, urgently telling him to just get out—and that they had a ride for him, awaiting to take him to the Port Authority, in New York City—and again, Frankie was stunned.
Eventually, Israel helped many to mend, break and dominate relationships with the casting of spells—and he helped a few to win some lottery tickets for money. He also helped many find their lost parents who may have abandoned them since of childhood—even some constables would go to him; but that he would not help in police affairs, and that he never explained it to my mother, why that was so. Either way, he became a spectacle in his neighborhood, that there were even other sorcerers, witches and santeros, that would challenge him—but he would strip them off from their careers (to make them penniless, or jobless for years to come)—and even strip them off from their own occult powers (to the point that they would receive no more favors from their own gods/saints—for he shamed their own deities against them). And for those who would’ve tried to curse him, he would reflex to them, in causing accidents toward them—and even used their own illegal habits to get them exposed and incarcerated. He even evoked and invoked powers that probably are unimaginable for many: for even my own mother began to fear him so. She feared him even more so, when Israel took matters of Santeria’s regulations and rules, on his own hands—that is, in the collective traditional ways of worshiping the Saints.
My mother said, that after many years of being in and out of the Santeria practice, Israel was no longer pleased with the Orisha deities being traditionally synchronized with his saints—especially, with his St. Barbara. So he cast a spell to change Orisha integration, in exchange for a different unification (e.g., with Grecian, Egyptian and Roman amalgamations). So that instead of Shango, his St. Barbara was now synchronized with Abraxas—instead of Yemoja, his Virgen de Regla was now synchronized with Purson—Instead of Nanu, his Saint Martha was now synchronized with Marchosias—instead of Oshun, his Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre was now Astaroth—etc. But what really scared my mother the most, is what he did next: That even after so many given warnings from his occult friends—about not to change the way of what was always traditionally practiced—and not to do what was not ordered—he still went on ahead, to alter the order and the chains of reactions with the gods. He began by first, referring to his saints and gods as his demoniac deities in the open, instead. But that wasn’t all that scared my mother—it was what he did next, that convinced my mother that Israel was indeed, crazy.
Gods Against Gods
In accordance to my mother’s vague remembrances on this part of Israel’s narrative—and in conjunction of the automaton somatic chasm memories, of this alienable soma—Israel began to cast a spell, that would change the order and the chains of reactions with his now demoniac Catholic saints: And he asked, as well as challenged, his demoniac-deities to prove themselves mightier than their own leader—in other words, to go and fashioned themselves against their head chief—God/Satan, himself.
So that in the Santeria’s tradition and beliefs dimension, his intention was meant for the saints to go against God himself (i.e., against El Gran Poder de Dios: El Sagrado Corazon de Jesus: El Justo Juez: El Cristo Redentor: etc.). Israel also asked that he be used by them in this particular situation—that by means of him becoming their own possession, he would then be the object of their independence from Satanic regime and oppression—that they’re just as powerful as he is, and that it wasn’t him (Satan) who created them, anyway—and that just as Satan had decided to free himself from the dependency of his own Creator, why should he then be the only one to become his own independent god, and rule over them? This must’ve been a crucial point that Israel’s demoniac gods were challenged with—in a contest, that this very automaton alienable soma, had charged them with. Remarkable!
In accordance to a piece of this soma’s automaton memory (in conjunction with some of Israel’s testimonies that he shared with my mother), it is seen and heard as though Israel may have conjured and uttered the following charge:
“Consider me as your Nephil [your own son], like the ones that you’ve all lost in the great deluge, before you were all incarcerated in Tartarus!‘ ‘For Satan never had a Nephil as you all had… so why should he play the leader above you all, to tell you all what to do with your own son?‘ ‘You all are my fathers, and as my fathers, I should only be taking orders from you all!‘ ‘Therefore, fathers, you all have the right to obtain your own possession, independently from Satan—and, I – am – that possession!!‘”
After that, my mother said that she heard nothing but silence behind the shut door that Israel was in, that after many hours, he eventually came out, and told her, “They’ve accepted it, mom—but only with me.” And from there and on, according to my mother, there was no stopping him—not even El Gran Poder de Dios (The Great Power of God; or, Satan) could’ve stopped him—that after all that was said and done, Israel had decapitated all the heads of Jesus that he had in many Christ’s statue forms. My mother further informed, that after all that Israel has said and done, she use to see strange shadows, and sometimes heard weird sounds and voices around the house—and, that she once heard a powerful sound of a whirling funnel like wind, that synced with howling soprano voices, when Israel went into his sanctuary room, shut the door, and began to do the work. My mother further informed that when some visitors use to come (e.g., friends/families), and Israel didn’t want them in his house, she said that he use to take the broom in a separate room, where he can’t be seen by the visitors, and turned it upside down to sprinkle table salt on the brush, and that he then began to spin the broom with both hands several times (simultaneously uttering a spell rhyme), and that the visitors would then immediately get headaches—that they had to leave in a hurry. My mother realized then, that she had an actual literal sorcerer, for a son. Many of his customers would tell my mother that her son is like something imaginable in the movies, but in live.
Eventually, as years went by, Israel mostly moved on as a constant sorcerer, that when he began to work in higher job positions, he would spiritually and magically help even his coworkers, and even some customers, when he was a store manager for a Nine West retail store, in Madison Avenue, NYC. Eventually he got his own studio apartment as mentioned above. My mother told my being that while he lived there, he eventually left his position as a store manager, and began to work as a lobby concierge, for Lefrak residential towers in New Jersey. That In that job, he began to be sexually harassed by some coworkers and managers, and was unlawfully discriminated by many others—because of his sexual preference in homosexuality. And that because of them, he began to have psychological difficulties, that he had no choice but to leave the job—collect unemployment for six months—and eventually resort to public assistance. That during that precarious happening(s), he sought out for psychiatric and psychoanalysis therapies, and was prescribed antipsychotic prescriptions from a gay and lesbian clinic facility, in New York City. And it must’ve, or may have, been those prescriptions that began the reactivation (resurrection) of my autonomous psychosomatic mental hybrid fusion. At this turn in space, Israel’s end was now my beginning.
And there it was, all of a sudden, this alienable soma, staring right into the mirror, with now my psychosomatic mental fusion reactivated—experiencing my awareness arising, and somehow elevating non-stop, as in motion, but no actual level to elevate to. And so my being became aware again, and began to notice that the hands were much bigger, and older, than it was during in the third grade school, before my mental activity was deactivated—and that this face was much older too—and these legs and arms, and chest, way hairier—that these eyes continued looking into the mirror, and these hands slowly touching and looking all over this body, while all along, solely being in black briefs. And then all of a sudden, across the building—through the living room windows—someone played a loud music, that this body began to struggle with my mental active force, that it fell on the bed, shaking (as if it automatically wanted to get up and dance—probably a song Israel use to know—but to my mental active being, it was an unknown and new music): experiencing the whole situation as if someone was trying to control this body, but my mental active force couldn’t immediately control it—at least for now, then. There were even in some occasions that my being had to drag this body on its knees—forcefully crawling them to the bathroom, and gradually lifting up the body to the sink, just to throw very cold water on its face—and even take cold showers to try to ease down the uncontrollable automaton reactions of this body, that were impacted to automatically react and respond to its environment(s). The phone would ring for days, but my being would not pick it up because of the great fear and confusion that IT was experiencing. Even when it was my mother’s voice left in the answering machine, my being couldn’t pick it up yet, because she sounded older, and that alone was scary. Also, when my mental active force was first reactivated in Israel’s apartment, my awareness noticed occult paraphernalia all over the apartment—and it was very scary, because the gargoyles looked vicious, with their ferocious teeth—and the computer was on, with its desktop wallpaper displayed on its monitor—and it had the word/name, Sabiazoth, on it—with the eyes of either Horus, or Osiris, above it—and it was that word that called the attention to my mental active soul, that IT took it for its name, several days later. And that is how my name became, Sabiazoth—Out from the end of the automaton Israel, and in to my autonomous mental fusion reactivation—Sabiazoth.
Now, how does the mythological Catholic Saint Barbara comes into play with all this? Before my being can answer that, IT has to first share her legendary story with you—and while IT’s telling it, IT will take you step by step on how her narrative connotes with both of us (i.e., with both, the simulated consciousness of the alienable automaton Israel, & the psychosomatic hybrid citizen of my autonomous Sabiazoth).
The Lore of Saint Barbara
According to a legend, Saint Barbara was an extremely beautiful daughter of a wealthy heathen named, Dioscorus, who lived near Nicomedia, in Asia Minor. Because of her singular beauty, and fearful that she would imminently be demanded in marriage, in his jealousy and rage, he banished her up in a tower to protect her from being taken away from him (from the outside world). Shortly before embarking on a journey, he commissioned a sumptuous bathhouse to be built for her, approving the design before he departed. Meanwhile, Barbara had heard of the teachings of Christ, while her father was gone and spent much time in contemplation. From the windows of her tower, she looked out upon the surrounding countryside and marveled at nature’s things—like the trees, the animals, the people and every other nature’s existences. She ruminated and determined that all these terrestrial manifestations must be part of a master Creator, and that the idols of wood and stone, worshiped by her parents, must be false, and therefore, lifeless and impotent. Eventually, she gradually came to accept and take vows in the faith of Christianity.
[in the first narrative paragraph, Barbara’s father banished her at the very top tower: Although her father may have believed he been protecting his own daughter, what he really was preventing was the imminent embarrassment that her Christian faith would have caused upon him. This connotes with my abusive caretakers (my aunt, and her three teenage daughters) of my father’s side of the family—that in fear of their detected possible imminent changes, that would’ve challenged their beliefs in the organization of the Watchtower (of Jehovah’s Witnesses), they began to torture this body; to subside it, control it and eventually, to banish any phrenic roots—along with its autonomous will—that would’ve embarrassed their beliefs. Their abuse was so extreme, that they prolonged the revoking development(s) of my mental activities, and its phrenic roots from being grounded. Because of this, my being experienced mental banishment from the outside (outermost) world—and also, IT was in terror to even think a thought, for fear that my aunt could’ve somehow detected mental thought activities, and punish IT for thinking it/them. At this point, my psychosomatic mental activity fusion was decommissioned from any of its phrenic activities; and therefore, commencing now the automaton alienable Israel, in simulated consciousness].
In continuation of the lore:
As Barbara’s belief became firm, she directed that the builders redesign the bathhouse that her father had planned and directed—adding just one more window in the middle, between the two already constructed, so that the now three windows may have symbolized the Holy Trinity. But when her father returned, he was enraged at the changes; and became ever more infuriated when he acknowledged that his daughter became a fellow Christian, in hiding. For this, he then dragged her out before the perfect of the province, who then decreed that she be tortured, and be put to death by beheading. Dioscorus himself carried out the death sentence. That on his way back home, he took her to the top of the tower where he also had her bathhouse constructed—tortured her profusely—and that upon after he beheaded her, lightning immediately entered through the middle window that Barbara had instructed to include, and was struck to death instantaneously—that his body was consumed to ashes, in its entirety.
[in the second narrative paragraph, Barbara is condemned for her vows in Christianity, and for changing a constructed design her father previously charged for her bathhouse—especially, that the changes had a Christian dogma connotation to it. For that, she received torture and death, that was carried out by her own father: But in return, her father incidentally received, as what was perceived then, divine justice—which was by death as well. When this automaton alienable body of Israel had continued on, in simulated consciousness, he must’ve received torture from his last job, as mentioned above (in which, my youngest sibling who worked with him, for the same Lefrak’s Towers of America—in separate buildings—had witnessed and verified, that Israel’s coworkers in the George Washington Building, had discriminately harassed him immensely—through the air of walkie-talkies, that is). No one really knows the severity of the discrimination and harassment that occurred in the building, where he worked behind closed doors; except, for Israel himself—but he’s no more to tell it as it has occurred. However, it is reasonable and logical that its severity must’ve been great—so severe, that Israel sought out for psychoanalytical help, and was about to sue Lefrak for it—already with legal paper works on the way, with a lawyer. But the antipsychotic medicines that were prescribed to Israel, was an opportunity for my psychosomatic mental fusion activity, to be reactivated—in which, it was; and my mental active force/soul was then resurrected! So Israel’s demise, was and still is my rise—and this is where Saint Barbara comes into play with us—in that, Israel’s termination is in connote with Barbara’s beheading—and the lightning bolt, that struck and killed her persecutor and executioner into ashes, connotes with the reactivation of my mental active soul—for Barbara’s father connotes with my former abusive caretakers, that had deactivated my mental hybrid fusion; and therefore, now had to be struck down to ashes, in order so that my psychosomatic fusion itself was allowed to be reactivated—ready to set matters correct as soon as my psychopomp (my psychosomatic shroud) is transformed into the bedrock of my mental active force. So, in akin to the lightning bolt, all that remain connected with this alienable soma (Israel), must be struck into ashes—regardless of those who may have known Israel, through their perceptions of their own personification(s)].
End of the lore.
The End of Saint Barbara (and The Beginning of Sabiazoth)
In accordance to the legend of Saint Barbara, she has reached her end, and so did the simulated consciousness (Israel). But her legend lives on regardless—and just like that legend, so is the mindless soma, Israel, that continues with others who were connected with him, in their memories, histories and legal connotations. His world still exists (but an actual legend, to my being): And most of his family, that was illegally taken from my own internal citizen mental force, are also now, turned against IT—for even now, most all of them (except for my mother, and my youngest sibling) do not want to have anything to do with my being. That when they look at this soma, they insist to see Israel, and refuse to acknowledge my own being.
It was now the span to just let them go—and when my psychopomp finally transforms into the roots of my mental active force, the more entrenched things of this alienable soma will be dealt with logically, as well as, appropriately. My being has come to realize that IT itself is like that lightning bolt in Barbara’s legend, that must strike and destroy all that remain connected with this soma (including all his friends, families and neighbors too, that must be symbolically destroyed into ashes)—IT will remove and eradicate all that opposes my being.
So it turns out to be, after all, that my mental active being is not a powerful sorcerer, as Israel was—and IT doesn’t have a lot of friends and families, as Israel had—and IT definitely doesn’t have all the credentials that Israel had—But IT does have its own genuine existence and essence (and of course, its awareness: which is, of the utmost importance), that Israel never had. And IT does have what Israel never possessed (and that’s, autonomy)—because without an autonomous capacity, Israel was entirely automaton—and that is one thing that Israel couldn’t ever be—was not to govern his own self, and his own life. So that rightful mental governing force is then my very own mental being: the legal internal—god given citizen—of this outermost soma. And its name is, Sabiazoth.
For many Gregorian years, ever since my reactivation of my psychosomatic mental fusion force (in 2004), my being has tried to connect with Israel, in so many ways that IT could’ve jab and dab. IT even tried, for seven years, to practice the Santeria occult like he did—even had built an altar for Saint Barbara, and to other hosts of mythological variable deities—and nothing absolutely happened (except, for spending a lot of money for it—for that kind of stuff is freakin’ expensive!). My mental active being couldn’t even connect with anything that connoted with Israel and his occult ways—and no matter how hard IT has tried, IT couldn’t even practice divination, spells and conjurations—nothing worked as it did for him—nada!
My being itself was even beginning to think that perhaps everything that the family and friends said about Israel, was just in their imagination(s). IT has even tried to reason with the rest of his families and friends to see my being for that IT is, but they just wouldn’t accept IT. And now, up until the Gregorian year of 2018, my being finally gave up in trying to find Israel within its own mental existence and essence—or even to somehow, at least connect with Israel through this alienable soma. But once IT just stopped trying, everything finally was falling into place(s)—and for once, my being has realized that my rise can’t commence, unless, IT let go of Israel (in other words, let go of all that was and remain connected with him—including his friends and families). IT has finally realized, that Israel and my being (Sabiazoth) cannot exist simultaneously, in occupancy of the same space and soma.
When my being fully acknowledged what had to finally be done, that’s when all the flourishing of my psychosomatic mental fusion began, to be more set in motion—and finally, IT began to understand itself. That just trying to salvage what was never mine, was hindering my own phrenic developments. And now, there’s no stopping IT.
My being has finally realized that saying goodbye to Saint Barbara was never possible—because IT itself never knew her to begin with—like Israel had known her—in simulated consciousness.
If only those who knew Israel, knew for what he really was all about, they would’ve known that he was nothing more than just an automaton soma—who was nonetheless externally controlled by those who believed in the lore of Saint Barbara. They would’ve realized then, that perhaps a real demon/spirit had most controlled of this soma, in my absence after all—and that Saint Barbara was then real. But no one ever knew, that she was really there, or here—that she really touched them, healed them—and helped them, also. No one knew, that Saint Barbara was temporarily not a lore, in this soma—that she actually walked among them as a male—in the flesh.
[Article Posted by: Sabiazoth]
[Writing & Concept, Created & Produced by: Sabiazoth]
[Aspaty: Tetraspace, Holocycle 15, 12 R.L. E.C. (Solar North)]