Black Books

  1. III. 19. 132

Jung. My soul, it is hellishly difficult.

Soul. It happens as it must. There is nothing more to say.

I. But how must it happen?

S. Should I foretell the future to you? Should there be anticipation? So listen: no stone will be left unturned. Everything will fall down again.

There will be mountains where there are valleys, there will be dry land where there is water. Are you satisfied?

I. Do you dare to joke? What are you planning? Do you have magical designs once more?

S. Not at all. I am merely boisterous.

I. Have you intoxicated yourself again?

S. A little. I smell opportunities.

I. It is fatal if you have caught sight of something again. Do you really want to plunge yourself again into matter?

Who grants you the right?

S. Who other than you? You are soft again, like butter in the sun.

I. Where have you caught me?

S. Now, where possibly else than in the so-called humanness? You are impressionable.

A good word, is it not?

I . What are you playing at?

S. The so-called soft heart.

I . Do you want me to cringe at being humane?

S. No, but at the mixing. What do you let yourself suffer through the suffering of another?

They want to see you solid, strong, and healthy. They still need you as an impenetrable wall.

That would be true love-more stone than heart.

I. You are hellishly cruel.

S. Do yeti you want me to plunge myself into the heat of eternal procreation?

Do you want again and again to be blended into the molten flow, in the dissolution of matter?

To start all over again from the beginning? But you need the continuation, not the beginning.

I. Who can prove to me that you are not lying?

S. Do you feel that I’m lying?

I. I can’t say. But where should it go?

S. To your Golgotha, where everyone is going to leave you. For now, you still must be more unknown.

I. What are these dark words? What is my Golgotha?

S. Do you want to know this?

I . I must have clarity. If you know it, speak.

S. I know only the word. However, Philemon knows more.

I. So call him.

S. <D, a mortal wants to know about Golgotha, his Golgotha.

Philemon: Is it curiosity? Or would you like clairvoyance? Golgotha is death for the sake of the Gods. -?- What does this tell you?

I. I seek no death for the sake of the Gods, since I would like to live for the sake of men.

Philemon. But the Gods want your life back. You have given birth to the luminous one.

He who bore him will procreate no more. He will give his life to the Gods and not to men. What are you pondering?

I. I am considering what it means to give one’s life to the Gods.

Philemon. Ask Ka, the shadow. He knows about this.

I. So answer me Ka, dark son of the earth.

Ka. How should I form my gem, how should I give form to the Gods, if you yourself go on the way of procreation?

Haven’t you drawn magical appearance from the black rod? If you are not solid, the light that everyone thirsts for will extinguish.

Who should live from himself, if you don’t do it? Will you borrow life from others through mixing? All are drawn into procreation.

Who possesses his soul? You must be solid for everyone, unmixed and cut off.

I. I see the inevitable. ~The Black Books, Vol. VII, Page 197-198