Thank the gods
Gratitude for the opportunities that have come my way.
A great many doors are opening for me at the moment, after a long time out in the cold. I needed that cold; I needed to hibernate.
Since my slow awakening, I’ve asked Universe for a path to success. A personal path, just for me. I’m not strong enough to do all the things non-magickal people do to get by. I can’t grift or graft.
Now my inbox is full of opportunities, and the challenge is to work fucking hard to meet people’s needs and surpass their expectations.
Universe helped me like this two years ago; I didn’t think the gods would give me a second bite at the apple, I didn’t think I was worthy.
This may send me into a sugar-induced coma, but I designate this day a binge day. I’m so careful with my meals otherwise.
My name is Xaos; I’m a commercial chaos magickian
I’ve been on Twitter and tumblr for a few years now, and for all this time my profiles have described me as a ‘Commercial Chaos Magickian’. I hope you know that I’m perfectly serious; this is a confirmatory announcement.
After developing my chaos magick style and sigilisation techniques, I noticed how many shitty no-effort rhyming spells were on eBay, and I remembered how people were willing to pay for tarot card readings and tarot parties (which I used to provide in my younger days). What was it that Peter Carroll said of the preponderance of professional diviners and the dearth of professional magick casters?
Well I have been, and will be again, a hired mage. Some time ago, I experimented with a short-run on eBay. I told myself that if the demand was there, I’d develop my offerings and ‘make a go of it’. Thirty-three customers later (many of whom made multiple / repeat orders) I completed my experimental testing of the waters and started making my excuses.
It’s not a good time, I told myself. I have so much on at the moment. I need to focus on me, not others. This demand won’t remain throughout the year, it’s probably seasonal. Those gods-awful power-sellers who sell sixty no-effort ‘all powerful’ charms-in-a-magick-stone are more popular than me, they flood the market, I can’t compete.
I had every excuse needed to lose this opportunity, shirk my duties, and watch more television, all the time reading more occult books.
My partner and friends were perplexed. Why stop if success was not just on its way, but manifesting? Why feel worried about so many things if the client feedback was so positive? My partner is an agnostic atheist logistician; they believe the world is as they perceive it (I know, terrifying isn’t it? and yet there’s some powerful truth in there too), yet they’d seen me create too many useful happenstances to dismiss magick entirely. I had all the support from clients and life I needed, and yet I still stopped, deciding it was an experiment only.
As always, we are our own worst enemies. But enough! I’m working to open my sigil shop again, along with certain magick services. I mean to be bigger, better, easier than ever.
I’m Xaos, and I’m a commercial chaos magickian. I hope I can serve you some time, and I hope you won’t mind that two or three percent of my web presence will nod towards my sigil wares. I know tumblr is a community, but it’s not a walled garden (thankfully) and I need to use my Xaos.me.uk website as a shop platform.
I trust by being frank and earnest (you can be Frank, I’ll be Earnest) you can see that I’m attempting to do authentic business here, from a place of respect and for a fair purpose. I wish to support myself and others.
Yes, I will take unique requests; yes I will create bespoke sigils and fire and charge them for you or with you as you want. Yes, I will be client-centred and treat you as you wish to be treated, whether you just want to buy a hand-inked space-clearing sigil for tomorrow or engage my services for something personal or spectacular.
Would you wish me the best? Will you be patient as I build up my offerings over the coming weeks? Can you offer me some support?
I’m working really hard on my body. Earth. Malkuth.
I mean, for me.
I want a slimmer waist and stronger muscles. I’m not weighing myself and I don’t care about my weight.
As I increase my muscle mass and my overall strength improves, everything physical becomes magnitudes easier.
I’m not concerned with any fads or stern instructions on what to eat and how to do an ab crunch. I’m doing well enough, because the point is to work to improve my fitness every day - not to lose 10lbs by August or benchpress 200lbs by New Year.
Walking on a narrow path, my dog and I are fast approaching the slower lady in front; she side-steps and stops to let us by and exclaims:
“Oh, I thought you were a bicycle!”
My little dog’s nails make a shtap shtap sound as zhe pads along, and hir name tag makes a little tink every so often.
shtap shtap shtap tink shtap shtap shtap tink shtap shtap shtap shtap tink
I’m looking through all the letters I’ve received in the past ten or fifteen years, and I thank you for your attentive correspondence. I must apologise for not writing to you as often as I could have; I was young and foolish then, and I feel old and foolish now. I was working hard back then it’s true; I was studying for twenty to forty hours each week, and sadly working thirty hours as well, with hours of walking from home to work and work to home in between. I could have made more time for you though, and I’m sorry to have missed so much of the life you shared with me. I know you were proud that I spent so much time with you growing up, and that I didn’t ‘forget’ you as I turned into my teenage years. I know you wanted me to live my life, and your life-story was a great inspiration to me, and it is only fear that has held me back from walking some of the paths you walked. Perhaps the world has changed, but your travels and lifestyle were truly remarkable, and I treasure the treasures you have left me. They are in my home just as they were in your home, our home, and the stories attached to them are still told. I only wish I had more of your treasures, and I regret the great loss and loss of stories. Your attention, interest and love means a lot to me; I love you and Granddad in different ways and there are days when I miss your sanctuary terribly.
As always, your loving Grandson
Goodbye childish little memories; I can’t hold on to you anymore.
When I was thirteen years old I painted the ceiling of my loft bedroom with rain forest scenes. I worked through the night, copying plants, fruits, and birds from magazines, mixing paints as I went. When I needed a lot of a colour (like green or sky blue) I had to save up my pocket money and dinner money for little pots of emulsion. I didn’t tell my guardians.
It was never finished, as I just kept adding details and the forest grew down the walls in time. When half my bedroom was vibrant forest and half was covered in rapper and batman posters, my father finally wandered up to see me about something. He was OK about it.
When I was sixteen, I christened my new bedroom ‘Epacsdnim’ (after ‘Ecalpemos’) and painted the name on the outside of my door along with abstract swirls.
I plastered the walls with hundreds of photocopies of varying sizes of The Mask (comic, not film) and on one wall I cut into the wallpaper the words ‘I Will’ in runes and pealed away the letters to reveal the paper beneath.
When I was seventeen or eighteen I painted two massive dragons in flight, encircling each other on the wall of my double-height lounge.
I’m now on my 30th or 35th home, and they’ve all mostly been beige. Moving soon, again, sigh.