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Have you done your daily ritual to keep Kali at bay? She is a hungry goddess, and you think she will eat you last? Hah! You pathetic fool! Affirm your little desperate warding rituals in this thread, but know this: She is coming for you, and she will always triumph in the end! Despair! To Kali goes the spoils!

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Kali knows your scent, morsel. You smell of delicious blood and meat. Every day Kali can track it for roughly 2 600 meters in your direction.

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keep her at bay? why?

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Jesus. She's getting noticably closer. It took me two days of praying to shake her off. She tore up this wound in my thigh last month, that won't heal. The doctors look at me as if I'm crazy. They say they can't help me - that there's nothing wrong with me. Bastards.

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I am saying my daily prayers as we speak. I think I hear her outside. I'm a bit scared here. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. ...but pain is still on my side. Little extra dimensional pockets of red mist to nourish my soul and light up the way once my sight returns once more. Pain is my treasures, and fear is my shephard. I have seen her horrid maw. I know where to run from now. She is my shephard. She is my goddess, and I am but her cattle.

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Breaching though another level of mortality, there's a faint ringing in my ears.

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I have a bathtub that I do my prayers in because I often risk pooping a little. That's a hot tip for you: Do your most intense prayers in a bathtub with the shower running, and it will just wash straight down the drain.

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>>621 I wish I had a bathtub to shit in. I just shat myself doing my prayers in public. ...twice! I was in the midst of prayer when all of a sudden I just felt something bubbling past my sphincter, and how something lukewarm and sticky started to spread in my underwear. I hurried home, and on my way back, I thought I did my best to clench, but still another stream managed to spurt out. I don't think anybody noticed, but it was still pretty embarrassing. I don't know if I've ever shat myself in public before in my life. When I got home there was this huge orange stain that had soaked straight through my underwear, and probably somewhat into my pants - I didn't check that well. I'm sitting here in a towel, clenching like a madman right now. This is the last time I'm eating human food.

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Crying is important. It is proof that you have a soul. I cried a lot today. I almost feel like a human being. Someday... It just feels so far away. Need to eat now.

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>>168 Crying just needs to happen this time of year. Half my prayers are done for today, but there's just so much pain to atone for. I am just so worthless. Patience. One step at a time.

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As you pray, remember to look deep within you. Find that thing that hurts, and hold on to it. Make it hurt more. Let the hurt in. Deal with it. Wrestle with it. Let it trigger you, into action. Abuse happens so that you can remember it - so that you can evolve from it. It doesn't exist just so that you can squander and forget it. It is your little ball of fire, full of energy.

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...and you just keep praying, until the screaming stops within, and then until you almost go unconscious. Just don't stop, or you'll die.

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I aim to cry two times a day, but reaching that minimum level of being a human being, is hard for me. I get sores that turn into open wounds. Being sexually molested is quite a sensation: You say no with all of your rationality, and after that the molester just scoops out all of that rationality, and reaches through, into the real you, and all that you've considered your safe home, and makes you her/his bitch. He will tear you a new persona and he will sully your innermost core. ...and as an unmolested you will scoff at that, thinking that surely you ARE your rationality and your reason. ...because that's what society tells you that you are, and what you're officially "respected" as. ...but molestation is quite an eye opener. You're not rational. You're just flesh. You are only as powerful as your flesh is. Remember that when you pray.

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I've fulfilled half of my basic duties as a human being today. At least I've made a good attempt at it. I need to buy more underwear - white ones, so that I can make sure that it's just sweat seeping out between my buttocks, instead of poo. They say that white is a sign of innocence, and yes it is: When you cleanse yourself through pain and prayer to Kali, you do it to re-attain innocence in your soul. ...but it's also just a smart choice. It's that choice that maybe you don't want discover that you walk around in soiled underwear by the sheer stench of it. Breakfast now.

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The fingers are often the weakest chain in the link. Some people claim that a good grip is just a gimmick, but I really think you need it. Do not neglect your ten little ones. They need love.

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Today is Sunday, the seventh day of the seventh month. It must be a christian holiday or something. ...and speaking of christians, let's talk about the kind of mainstream kind of worship that we often see in christianity, and how it contrasts to genuine worship. See, christians - if they believe themselves to be genuine - visit their church every Sunday, listen to some preacher, and sing their psalms, and that's that. No passion - just a duty: You show up on a certain day, you do your routines, and then you're done and can go on with your life. (1/2)

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This is bullshit, okay? If you are truly devoted to the divine, you wake up, and then you go to work on your prayers like your life depended on it, because it does. If your deities are the real deal, then the minute that you're not praying, it's going to count against you. ...and so you eat your flesh and you say your prayers, and you eat more flesh and you say more prayers, and you keep this up until you're all woozy in the head and can't think straight. Then you can consider yourself done. Then you sleep. Next day you start over again. Obviously you should also tend to your needs, but my point is that there is no DAY to worship on, and no specific PSALMS to sing. That's just pretentious. You know how to chew flesh, and you know how to pray, and that's it: Go at it 'til you drop. "But Anon, if you sing psalm 355 every Sunday, then that's optimal." Fuck your memes. Kali isn't approaching once every Sunday. She's approaching even while you sleep. When you wake up Tuesday, she might just be standing at your bedside. Some people claim that you'll drop dead if you pray too much, and I say fuck 'em - they don't know shit. If you start to get the shakes, then just eat more flesh and do some drugs, and then you're good. You'd have to be high as shit to be even close to dropping dead from praying too much - that's just an excuse from lazy people. (2/2)

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...and these dumbasses often tell me that they have special psalms that they need to get them motivated, but me, I just need to listen, because my goddess is like Zalgo: She's in the very walls! Even in complete silence you can hear Her approaching footsteps!

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Thoughts were like screaming demons in my head, but the pain I subjected myself to today, screams even louder. I can't hear my thoughts anymore, and thus I can rest. Sanity is overrated. Don't try to rationalize it. Just suffer through it.

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I finally discovered a forbidden ritual that instantly cured me of my pus butt.

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Today I took my family to praise Kali. We ground our hips for hours without mercy, and I learned to gently move my body, as if I was dancing. The pain is so dull that it's hardly noticable. Yesterday Kali sang from my ripped open forearms. Today she echoes from my neck. I maintain myself through the consuming of children. Tomorrow is a big day, where I will go to the temple to make sacrifice. Will I finally break down and cry?

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Spent all afternoon and evening, praying to Kali at my home altar, because I've finally found the devotion I've been missing for a long time, and now I'm off to the local temple to continue praying. I haven't even had time to eat breakfast. Caffeine pills will do it. I feel exhausted, just like Kali wants me. I wonder if she's licking her lips at the sight of me right now.

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Prayed until my head went all dizzy. Screamed praises of anguish to Kali all the way home, together with mumbles of insane delirium. The restaurant food helped - lots of delicious vitamin F. Recovery has been hard, but I'm drinking my holy water right now, so it'll get better from here. Jerked off to some really good rape porn too.

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It's funny, looking at the faces of normal people, trying to look distant and unbothered - trying to not stick out, essentially playing dead. I'm not ashamed of being a beast among these sheep. I am a proud servant of Kali. I can defend my every grunt if you'd dare to call me out on it. My "behavior" is that I pray hard, I eat, and I sleep, and that's all my obligations done. Every day I'm purifying myself, atoning for my sins.

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No, I haven't done my daily ritual. Feels like I'm drowning in a dull pain - like I'm suffocating. I think I'm just too much of a pussy right now. Need to find my will to live somewhere. All the pain in the world is not enough to describe what Kali has in store for me if I do not pray.

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You need to be thorough in your devotion to Kali. Last Friday I prayed next to a guy who thought that just going through the motions of a prayer, would be enough, but if you do that, you're only going to fool yourself. Kali can smell every ounce of sin in the flesh of your body. Get to know your pain sincerely and thoroughly. Explore it as much as possible, and don't forget that you're a disgusting whore - nothing more. Swallow your pride, and get to know all the lesser places within you, and do so even when you start to scream and groan like the whore you are, until your very mortality stops you, and Kali wins over your body.

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Only prayed at 90% today. The new rituals threatened to tear me apart. Screamed and swore a lot in public. I don't want to even fucking move. Fuck this fucking fuck of fuck! Need to eat. Need to fucking eat, but I need to move for that to happen, and my pussy-ness is great indeed. Saw my priestess briefly. I think she's possibly going to sacrifice her newborn to Kali.

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In our temple, and indeed in the streets, you can tell at a glance who have given their souls to Kali, and who has not. Well, "given" is a misnomer. Who has had their souls TAKEN by Kali. Stripped of all shrouds of human worth, our eyes stare directly into the void, sensing much greater things than everyday life, and our faces are twisted into a grim visage of pain and merciless hate. We see the goddess staring back at us, and we know that she is ready to eat us when the time comes, and we are the very opposite of "being at peace". We are alone, we have no illusions to hide behind, and we rise to the challenge. The Police - Synchronicity: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Si5CSpUCDGY

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As the ritual is about to begin, my nervousness turns into fear. Then you take the leap, and it's too late to look back, and you just have to make it. A couple of seconds later you hear the bones start to crack, but you made it, just barely. You can live another 24 hours without shame. You're still a whore, but you now have some semblence of worth, like water in the desert. The cracked bones still stings with pain.

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Sometimes at the temple, I fall into a trance, lasting about ten seconds. It happens once the screaming and the begging has stopped, and all thought is gone. My feet begin to stagger and my eyelids begin to flutter, and so the world I see, flashes at me at a slow framerate, filling me with adrenaline needed to continue, and not faint. You may call me crazy, and maybe I am. So what? If I would have ended up sane, there would be something wrong with the world. Since it's illegal to kill me and dump my body in the river, you'll just have to put up with me. ...although some people do that anyway, of course. Every day another murder case makes the headlines, but it's never me. It's a scary place to be so vulnerable in, but it's not prison. I haven't met a crazier motherfucker in there yet. Good.




Update 5