Death Is Only the Beginning

Sit back and relax as I entertain you with provocative stories, bringing illumination into the dark side of things like the alchemist that have come before my time. I will put you in the front seat of this car, as if you get to witness life for the first time, twisting the perception of your own reality. Time to get your hands dirty. What you’re about to consume is not the diary of a mass murderer, although I may have come across a few in my lifetime, and yes, I have felt compelled to kill. I believe we all get tempted with the urge. This is a story of a child growing up under unusual circumstances, meddling in the black arts, the dark Qabala. He becomes an extremely successful occultist in all the wrong ways, finding himself on the right hand path. This child, soon to be a man, conflicted within his own beliefs, on the search of enlightenment with a gun in hand. I feel like before I can go any further I must have some sort of warning, like a list of possible side effects on a prescription bottle. This story will not attempt to cure the blind, herpes and or anyone with autoimmune disease, nor any other ailment. Or the blindness of ignorance for that matter. This story of death, betrayal, and mind-altering experiences is meant to be thought-provoking. There I warned you, don't take it literally, this is all metaphorically speaking, enjoy the ride. I was born in St. Paul, Minneapolis, 1979. My father was a businessman, a very successful one at that time. He owned the largest marketing agency in Minnesota, with no end in sight he decided to invest. Becoming an avid real estate investor, he realized he had a unique ability to transform the undesirable into the irresistible for those that could afford it. We lived next door to the mayor’s mansion, my brother, two sisters, and a grizzly bear. Yes, you heard me right. My dad had a grizzly bear as a pet. When my father lost it all, divorced-and-broke, we lived life the hard way through trials-and-tribulations. I was left to fend for myself among my siblings, like a pack of wild animals turning against each other, clawing, fighting, biting, and killing because they’re hungry. Losing the ability to think in the moment, the animalistic behavior of man, the reptilian brain kicks into auto pilot. After living on the streets trying to find my own way in a city of lost souls, fighting to survive another day was a common occurrence and nothing came easy. Hoping to see a glimmer of light reach the depths of hell within my own consciousness, I questioned my existence. I eventually learned to rule over the dark, like a great prince, as I cast my shadow and shed the light. My perseverance to survive, at least for the time being, and that to succeed, to reach enlightenment, matched that of my own teacher, my own life, and beyond my wildest expectations. I made a pact with the devil himself, my old friend Lucifer. Blood would be shed in promise to the task I swore upon the blood oath. I am going to give you an insight into my life. A chance to look through a window, to take a peek at what I’ve been through and some of the situations that I have lived to tell about. I will tattoo a spectrum of vivid colors into your subconscious, a place where black and white once resided. Take it as you wish. Believe what you want to believe. But ask yourself, have you ever been in a car full of murderers? I have. My name is “The Saint”, one who has mastered the ability of artistic expression through extrasensory, clairvoyance, and occult powers. I am infamous for telling the greatest adventures. I am the creator of my own destiny. King of my own domain. I push through people’s limitations and walk the common path as certain blessings are granted among that bloody bond. The tattooist and the client is where it all starts. My artistic expression and extrasensory perception manifested into my work as I labor on creating entries into this world through supernatural forces. Torn flesh and blood mixes with the ink. Blood purging from the body. Free, free at last, so fleeting in its time. Crucifixes and demons hang on the walls. Spirits of many dance around, looking, watching and cheering on with bloodthirsty cries. They have come to watch the gladiators fight, as I slave to the needle under the mirrored image of my own lost soul. Where angels fight with devils, and those that may want to enter are welcome to come in. With one foot into the light and one into the cold frigid dark, the equilibrium will be restored, and you will be home again. One can get lost within the surroundings of the eerie-lit tattoo studio, creating chilling laughter within one’s soul. The power relations through the participants in the tattoo studio transforms it into the ritual room. With the release of pain, liberation comes in a form of a blood sacrifice to receive the reception of ink. Burnt offerings to calm the senses and put the soul at rest. The distinct aroma, mixture of incense, cigars, pipe tobacco, and marijuana materializes as the buzzing sound of the tattoo machine rings throughout your head. The tattooist lays down the first drops of ink; cutting like a dry razor blade across the skin, like his fore-fathers/ancestors did before him. The ability to create. Manifesting from the nonexistent into our physical reality as he works his magic. A light has been turned on, and you can't help but to take a look at what was previously out of sight. Continuously chasing life, illumination, searching for that, that is eternal, only to find yourself sitting in the dark observing the reflection of the “Shining One.” After digesting these stories, maybe it will have an impact on you, in a way that will make you more aware of the truth you seek. You think it’s just a coincidence you unexpectedly stumbled across my book?