January 12, 2021

Another day and the Imaginal Realm reveals more. I’m less disappointed today than I was yesterday. My friend, Alison, is quite the arcane scholar and has been sending me links to articles and sharing books with me about the Imaginal. I started reading the companion reader to Jung’s Red Book last night and it seems that Jung was traveling in the Imaginal as well, although he had a harder go of it, probably because his ego structure was still very much intact and, most importantly, he had no experience with or understanding of Diamond Guidance.

I do recognize that the Imaginal is a realm of the Id with all sorts of potent instinctual forces swirling around. It is a place of breathtaking beauty and heartbreaking sadness and violence. It is full of lost souls, stripped of all but tiny vestiges of their egos and without memory. They have been reduced to their primal forms and are often tortured and full of churning chaos. Their outer form is often monstrous and they are languishing in misery.

Today, as soon as I closed my eyes for my meditation, I found myself in a moonlit marsh. It was a warm and humid night and a full moon was rising over the swamp. A creature detached itself from the moonlight and stood before me. It was a luminous stag with glowing horns and an almost human face. I climbed on its back.

At first, the stag took off across the swamp, springing with such power and grace that it left me breathless. Then it unfurled wings and soared up and over the swamp, giving me a magnificent view of the moon-touched waters, hummocks and clumps of tree from above. Then the swamp gave way to a forest of dark trees and finally we flew over a mountain range, gradually descending to an immense keep on the far side of the mountains. It was a giant stone building lit by guttering torches and filled with soldiers. It reminded of a fortress for Nationalists in the Spanish Civil War.


The stag landed in a courtyard of the fortress and was unharmed despite being fired upon by the soldiers. It dropped me off and flew away, leaving me to be taken prisoner. The guards chained me and forced me inside the keep where they took me to see their commander. The commander was a hard man with a rigid mien and black holes instead of eyes. He sneered when he saw me, clearly recognizing me.


He ordered the soldiers out and locked the door behind him and then proceeded to rape me violently. It was then that I realized my body wasn’t my own but belonged to the woman that Griffin and I met in the cave the day before. (The young woman who had been a black monster and transformed into a rainbow dragon; she could take the form of a young woman after this transformation.)


The commander and the woman had a history together and he lusted after her. As he proceeded to rape me, he tore open my rainbow-hued skin and his skin became drenched in my blood. This rainbow-hued blood had an immediate effect on him and he lifted his head and howled in agony as he was transformed into a ravening beast much like a terrible werewolf. As a human-wolf beast, he continued to assail me, tearing me limb from limb until he was completely drenched in my blood and remains.


It was here that he began to awaken to himself, to recall his past and to change back into a human. My blood, freely given, had a transformative effect on him, reminding him that he possessed a heart. His eyes, once black holes, became soft and brown and lovely. His body lost its rigidity and his skin became soft and supple. He was quite beautiful.


At the same time, I became myself, no longer the corpse of the young woman with rainbow skin but just me.


This young man, who had once been little more than a beast but who was now quite human, took me by the hand and led me to the top of a parapet. The flying stag that brought me to the fortress was waiting for there. The two of us climbed onto his back and he flew off back to the marsh, landing on a grassy hummock. The young man and I dismounted and lay there side by side for a while until he gradually became amorous and we made love. This time, our coming together was sweet and gentle and he was wide-eyed. I don’t think he’d ever had sex with a man before but he liked it.


When we were done, he lay back and the full weight of the memories of his past deeds started to return to him. I was in the midst of comforting when Griffin appeared and took a long, lustful look at the young man and proceeded to drill him mercilessly with his big cock. It was quite barbaric and it startled me...however, the young man didn’t seem to be entirely unhappy with the experience.


I felt bad, though, because the poor guy had just recovered a bunch of painful memories and gone through a pretty traumatic experience, only to be assaulted by Griffin. I pulled Griffin aside and had words with him after he was done, telling him about the importance of consent when it came to sex and also that his behavior might reflect poorly on me. His answer was to fuck the shit out of me...which, again, I can’t say was entirely unwelcome. But, once his lust was sated, he did seem to understand what I was talking about.


Like I was saying at the beginning of this piece, the Imaginal is the realm of the unrestrained id, among many other things, and it’s not surprising that sex would be such an, ahem, seminal part of it. I am not an animal, though, and believe it’s important to conduct myself with integrity. With any luck, this will be the end or at least the beginning of the end of Griffin and nonconsensual sex. “Griffin,” I said, “you have to ask permission first!”


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