I have always questioned life and existence. In high school, so true to the norm of rebellion, I questioned even deeper and began to cease my church going experience and began to study and to practice various occult and pagan theosophies. In this search of another outlook on the super-natural, I found myself at the cornerstones of Thelema and Satanism...the O.T.O. and The Temple of Set (Thanks to a very special person who, once, regularly manifested himself in my world). Because I still questioned the existence of [GOD] as "He" had been a huge part of my nurtured life, I read The "Good Book" front to back and back to front and determined that a real christ-like person would exemplify what the Bible terms as "the fruits of the spirit." I saw very few of these kinds of people in any and every church I attended or in any venue of those that labeled themselves as such. I found more athiests, agnostics, evolutionists, satanist that bore more of these fruits than the common christian...it seemed these "learned" people (here on out referred to as the "doubters"), due to their knowledge and acceptence of humanity's biological and fleshly needs and desires, seemed to be able to display better understanding and patience with other human beings. Their "faith" was knowledgable (to varying degrees), not blind. I found talking to the "doubters" was much more of a pleasant experience than talking to the "truthsayers" (i.e christians or any other zealous faith based human). The "doubters" spoke using fact based quotes and their own personal experience and perspective. Most of the "truthsayers", not all mind you, quoted or flung irrational quotes of their book or their teacher when something offened them...they in no way kept their cool.

At this point in my life and search of [GOD] and [Truth], I simply kept the questioning between me and [GOD]...most of the time. I never allowed myslef to come to any conclusions except that one cannot put [GOD] in a box...or even keep [GOD] from the box.

Struggles with the voices in my head seemed to grow deeper, more vehement, and intense. It became clear that my voice, the voices of those present in my life that I admired, the voice of [GOD-Holy Spirit] and the voice of [Demons, Devils and The Fallen Angel of Light] became intertwined. I cried out to [GOD] to help and to reveal the "truth to me." Which voice was "His?" One statement which was made by a voice (be it mine, another or a mixture of both) that still, to this day, bothers me a bit started simply as this, "Satan and Jesus are one in the same." Now, I tried to back up the advocate by remembering the Bible story when Jesus was called "Satan" because he could "cast out" Satan. His response was (basically) "How can Satan cast out himself." This advocate did no justice for its intent as the questioning grew into a monster. Now the statement is as such: Jesus and Satan are, in fact, one and the same. [GOD] and Satan are the same being. If [GOD] is omnipotent & omnipresent, then EVERYTHING IS [GOD] and [GOD] is as NOTHING. I am [GOD], You are [GOD], and atom is [GOD], The universe is [GOD], Nothing is [GOD]...no wonder science has yet to prove [GOD'S] exisistence." hee hee

Now, I never felt that religion (er, rather, an organized, faith-based structure and "church -going") was for me, nor that it was a negative in this world. I scoffed at the "cult" of the Left Behind series as it was a little too "westernized" for me to consider it to be the truth. However, no more than 2 1/2 years ago, my feelings about organized religion were validated and solidified for me. My mind was made up. I could not rationally put trust in an imaginary friend Furthermore, man-made religions (especially organized ones) have a strong tendency to become very dangerous to all humanity.

At the end of January 2005, after a night of playing pool and drinking 3, 24oz glasses of Killians Red, I walked up the main stariway toward my bedroom and nearly lost my balance. (If you know me, and know how much I can drink, you know that those three glasses probably didn't even begin to touch me). I felt woozy and the sensation of my tongue swelling to double in size. (Please note that not even three days had passed since a couple of my friends had attained these same flu like symptoms.) Matt had to help me up the stairs. I was really freaking out and couldn't figure this out. Not wanting to move or be moved for fear that I would die, I asked for a doctor or a priest or something. What I got was Matt's mother calling her friend. This man once was "demon-possessed" and now has his own ministry centering on that; but in no way, shape or form, was this man an ordained pastor or priest. Next thing I knew, Matt's mother, this man and his wife are packed into my room holding me down, annointing me and praying over me. All the while this "minister" was asking the demon's name and trying to expell it from me. I repeated over and over that my name is "Rachel;" the only demon in this room is one called hyserteria; and "YOU are not a holy man of GOD"; however, because my tongue had swollen to the size of a banana, I wasn't exatly coherent to them...and over my screaming, I heard them saying that I was speaking in the tongues of demons. This seemed to only make him/them believe harder that I did have a demon in me. All the while, Matt tried his best to convince them that they were wrong and that I simply needed a doctor. I had had enough. I lept over the footboard of my bed and scrambled down the stairs. The "minister's" wife met me at the bottom and tried to stop me and calm me down. It didn't work. Removing her hands off me and saying "get away from me. Leave me alone," I flew out the front door with no socks or shoes and wearing only my PJ top and bottoms. (Fight or Flight at its best.) I walked all the way down the street to Bellefountaine Avenue trying to get to my aunt's house on St. James (about 4 1/2 blocks away from my Matt's house) until my feet numbed completely with a slight ache and I curled up on the ground at the base of a neighbors tree. I prayed "[GOD], if you exists, send Matt to get me. I can't walk anymore." It couldn't have been more than 5 minutes after that prayer until Matt drove up in his Jeep Liberty. As he drove me to my aunt's, he told me that "they" were walking around the house and block, annointing and praying over everything. This made me laugh...and then hiss. When I was with my aunt at last, she held me, listened to the story and talked to me...calmly.

Needless to say...I am strongly against zealous, blind-faithed "christians" who are lacking in discernment, reason and education...who, for a lack of better terms, look more at others' faults in [GOD] than their own and then proceed to "teach" you about [GOD]. (To them I say, "Don't try and remove the speck from my eye when you have a plank--or block--in your own eye.")

Is it any wonder what causes such sac-religious, sacrcatistic humor to emit from my brain's mouth?

(By the way, after we had returned and to our dismay, we discovered that they had poured out aproximately $400 worth of alcohol (some of wich was meant as gifts to friends) down the drain of the kitchen sink. Matt's mother claimed they had to get rid of the "demon" alcohol. They failed to notice the occult books and crystals sitting next to my bed on my night stand...and I am glad they did. Also, Matt's mother apologised for that special night in my life aproximately two months later; but after I asked why she was apologising to me, she couldn't tell me.)