Join My Cult - Original Falcon Press

y this on a personal level—having the intensity of love, which I am also
quite addicted to, without the possibility of betrayal.
Each morning that I would wake up from these dreams I would try to
recall the events of the ceremony, and I would be at a loss. If I say it was
a form of communion and maybe you laugh, or think I’m either joking or
insane. But that’s exactly what it was.
The tension of this as it contrasted the reality of my limited nature has
even, at times, driven me to such discomfort that I literally wonder if I
can continue existing here, in this body, within these bonds. I can think
of no other way for us to break through our barriers then by finding our
love, and uniting with it—in fury, in passion, or in tenderness, as per our
nature. Not a slow process in pathologically oriented therapy, but a thunderbolt,
experienced again and again, until we are broken and reshaped
by it and our true fearless nature can make itself known.
Here I am, in a room filled with the pantheon of Western and Eastern
Philosophers, most long dead—and I wonder if it was this very conflict
of possibility and actuality, this burning potentiality locked in each of us,
which was the real cause for Nietzsche’s insanity?
This tendency was still very subterranean in me, though I speak of it
here in the open. There were many things about myself that I couldn’t yet
admit. In my conscious life I remained monogamous or celibate, and had
little inkling of what was really gnawing at me. I worried constantly
about the “other guy.” All of my previous relationships had been a
struggle with jealousy, borne in an ungrounded or incomplete sense of
myself. So long as we remain incapable of complete self-sufficiency, we
will have the rug pulled out from under us again and again right when we
feel we need it most.
The fact that I constantly found myself unsatisfied seemed symptom
enough of an oversight in my present way of doing things. I don’t have
the answers but I do know a faulty system when I see one. This system I
have been operating is not my system, it is the system handed to me by
my culture.
These dreams started at an early age. I found writing from when I was
fourteen already discussing “the Dionysian cult.” What I was hitting on
here was the basis of a religion that made sense to me. You can even see
it etymologically: religion, religio or religare, to bind or to yoke. Yoga,
to bind or yoke. It is the binding of the microcosm to the macrocosm. Of
subject and object. Or yin and yang. And, unless the sacrament is profaned,
what is sex but the binding of self to other? What is it if not the
140