Black Books

Sunday. 3. VI 17-

Jung: My soul, where are you? What do you see? What are you busy with? I haven’t heard anything more from you. Truly, I was I away from you for too long.

S. “You weren’t away too long. Everything went correctly, as it should. I could do my part in the silence.”

Jung: What did you do? Let me take part.

S. “I piled up the ore-red stones-gold-shining things from ancient shafts. If you knew what Atmaviktu the ancient brought, which ~ shimmering serpent skin he shed when he became Philemon. Dangerous poisons, daimonic luminous things-a shimmering ground for the feet of the lovers.”

Jung: Grant me a glimpse. Proceed to the completion of the work.

S. [“] He spoke about me-that I was related to you-mortal with you-the life of your body, your solar mantle. Philemon is immortal. The star seed in you is immortal. It is a piece of the world, a Pleroma, a light and a darkness. Light insofar as it is~ differentiated from the Pleroma; darkness, insofar as it is the Pleroma itself The light shines out of difference. Differentiation strengthens the light of the star-Philemon raises himself higher. His head is in the blazing fire. He burns upward to the eternal fiery heavens. What is it? A weight lies on me-a burden? Is your body burdened? Is a poison in it? I see-you have not fulfilled the sacrificial service. It should be fulfilled.” ~The Black Books, Vol. VII, Page 148