Join My Cult - Original Falcon Press

“Come,” he said, preoccupied with the scribbled symbols.
“Hey man. Is Jason showing soon?” Ken asked.
“He should be. I’m figuring we’ll talk for a few hours, get momentum
going, then we’ll go for a walk in the woods.” He looked up from his
book and faced Ken, attempting to conjure any remaining luminosity in
his eyes, but his voice remained hollow. “Do you remember the feeling
you got last time you were there?”
“Well, yes. Kind of a calling from somewhere deeper in…may I?”
Ken asked, pointing towards Alexi’s computer. His bulletin board system
was now a meeting place for over three hundred callers in the area.
“Sure. I also think that we should introduce Jason to the inner circle, if
you know what I mean.”
“Perfectly,” Ken said, clicking away at the computer, cigarette in one
hand.
Alexi turned his attention back to his arm while Ken grumbled about
the inefficiency of PCs in comparison to Macintosh computers. Slowly
Alexi’s methodical drawing deteriorated into a dragging scrawl, his face
hard and blank.
Ken stopped typing and turned around in his chair, noting that his
friend’s facial expression had changed dramatically. He spoke slowly, as
if he was searching for the proper words. “Now, you and I both know
that sometimes one gets an instinctive urge to do something…” Alexi
nodded, stroking his goatee absentmindedly. “This was the case for me
last night… I did my yoga and vessel care, and started drawing runes
upon myself—and I’m not much into skin art… I lit a candle and began
my preliminaries… Relaxation, shutting off one sensory input after
another, and so on. I let the patterns on the insides of my eyelids kind of
lull me… And I felt very, very light, as if I was hovering above my
body… I don’t remember falling asleep, but I assume that was what happened
eventually… I just slipped into dreaming without being asleep,
and awareness never left… I awoke this morning to a sound, like dripping
water… And when I looked around, the candle was still burning. It
left a big mess. Beside my bed was a poem, not written in my hand
though I can’t imagine who else would have written it… …in the temple
of the temple of the temple of the holy… I’ll have to show it to you later.
Any further description would simply not work at this point, but what I
experienced was so beautiful… It truly felt as if a lifetime passed between
closing my eyes last night and opening them this morning, wondering
why the hell the ceiling was leaking until I saw the flame of the
candle, and only upon seeing the flame did the memories of this whole
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