Last night I performed a midnight devotional to Dionysus. I poured libations to the dead, blessed the wine, and began a sacred dance in my backyard to him. All I had on was a red scarf while I was nude, the wind and the stars witnessing my ode. Oh how I reveled in ekstasis! I danced my love, my worship, crying glossolalia. My body was His, IS His, and as I drank within the sacred precinct of my Temple-Not-Made-With-Hands, I became inexorably possessed:
I began to fall on my hands and knees, raved like a mad bull in heat, bellowed out gutteral ties. I was possessed! Oh yes, my sweet delicious Intoxicant bestowed His mercy and grace to come down and inhabit my body. I won’t go into the rest of the details, as they are extremely private, but an oracle did pour forth as I lay panting after seizing. Here it is, both the Vision and the Voice:
I saw His infant form torn apart, blood splattered with tendons, bones and meat everywhere. His ichor stained the earthen cave; you could smell the iron. When the white-chalk Titans had finished their course, the blast of a thousand million volts came and sizzled the very cavern. Where once lay the mighty, now they had fallen so low. Nothing but post-apocalyptic ash remained, mixing with the ichor of the God babe. It was then that I heard a voice,
“From my suffering, I gave you life.
From my blood, I gave you thought.
From Myself, came forth You,
In all your perfected Glory.
Your kind is My kind:
mortality, suffering, and death.
And so it was My joy to come among you long ago,
And bestow the salvation to your suffering –
Pleasure. Undeniable pleasure.
The grace of wine,
The nectar of sex,
The ambrosia of freedom,
The ointment of laughter,
The weapons of peace,
The promise of a shared concord with the Immortal Ones.
This was my Gift,
This was my Joy,
To teach you rites to touch the breath of the Mighty Ones.
To show you rituals whereby you may engage with the Shining Ones.
Indeed, it is within your nature to be violent, to suffer.
It is your doom that you share the flesh of the Strugglers.
And so it is your doom, too, that within you flows My blood.
This is the salvation you seek.
This is the purpose you long for.
It is not that evil shall be taken away,
But that you are given the choice to engage with Pleasure,
That with it, your suffering might me eased,
And your Memory, your Soul, shall be set free.