That accident lives in my memory as if it happened just yesterday, but the thing that I remember the most was the shock I had over the first thing to run through my head. I was nineteen, I’d just gotten my license, and I’d rear-ended someone. They looked pretty pissed. I looked pretty pale. I knew what had happened: it was my fault. I’d gotten carried away, I’d been careless. I’d made some assumptions about the behavior of others, and my assumptions were faulty because I lacked experience in reading others on the road. There was nothing else to do now but call the police and bear the penalty for my poor judgement, but all the while I couldn’t shake that single thought in my head: “I wish I could get a re-do.” Oh, what I wouldn’t have given for that! My father was going to slaughter me. My freedom was about to be jailed. My record was tarnished, and never would I be able to go back in time and change what’d happened because that’s just not how life worked. It’s a curse of being young, but it’s a burden that lessens as time makes us stronger, and I’m lucky: I’ve learned a great deal over the years but in its place I’ve picked up a different sort of burden. Now? Now I suffer watching youth make the same dangerous decisions I did, and youth, exciting as it is, rarely allows someone to slow down, take a breath, and listen to the sage advice that’d make life a little easier.
I remember how annoying it was to hear things like that when I was in High School. The transition from kid-dom to adulthood is littered with sentiments, and one of them is, “Some people just want to boss you around because they see you as a child. I’m not a child. I don’t have to listen to people if I don’t want to.” I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to be careful, but then I reaped the consequences for not being careful, and I never imagined properly what those consequences could have been until they were staring at me hard in the face. The repercussions for it lasted. It didn’t go away in a day. Things were not “forgiven” as they had been when I was younger. I was indeed transitioning into adulthood, and adulthood was selective about how it wanted to see me.
Things were not “forgiven” as they were when I was younger. I was indeed transitioning into adulthood, and adulthood was selective about how it wanted to see me.
Religion is no different. I have had experiences in my lifetime that have forced me to wise up to the consequences of handling myself regarding religion. There are many out there who have not yet been afforded the same opportunity since they were born after I was. I’ve seen it happen first hand what even the perception of being a Satanist has done to my best friend and I’ve seen how it’s impacted his family 20 years later. Twenty years! Do you remember what you were doing 20 years ago? Were you born yet? This situation I’m referring to has worsened over the years. My best friend isn’t even a Satanist, but the perception of us is just that bad out there. When I see the youth of today not encountering but running into these situations of plastering themselves all over the schoolyard it brings out a near physical pain in me because of the experiences I’ve had. I’ve seen the way it can destroy lives. I do not want, from the most sincere place in my heart, for that to happen to you. You can’t take religion back once you’ve blurted it out. You can only lie about it in hopes of covering it up, but they will remember. Your perceptions of how your friends will react is based on an incomplete assessment of human behavior – just like when I got into my car accident. Your emotional passion contorts into compulsive need when you open your mouth and overshare that you identify as a Satanist. It is willfully ignorant when you chose to ignore the wisdom offered by those with life experience in these matters, be it personal or general guidance (“Hide your horns.”), and when you find yourself in a collision there will be no going back. There are lasting consequences, and yes, there are those who are “out” as a Satanists, but why would you do what other people do? You’re a black goat in a flock, aren’t you? Be strong and blaze your own path.
Stop telling people you’re a Satanist. Stop it right now. Don’t do it for me, I’m not your mother. Do it for your future self, because you can’t travel to the past and tell yourself not to. Allow me to do that favor for you, because preventing just one person from ending up like Andy is something that’s worth it for me. I’d like to provide you with tips to make this a little easier but since this post is running long I’ll save it for next time.
Ave Satanas - live smartly - and as always: Hail Satan.
Who is the Witch?
I'm just another successful Satanist who happens to be kinda good at the whole Lesser Magic thing. This blog is about my personal experiences and perspective in Satanism and does not speak for others nor their experiences. For more information please click here and learn more.