Writer: Tenebrisaeternum
Subject: Burning The Book Of Lies
Link: Tumblr / 29.06.2025
Burning The Book Of Lies
I’ve been using an old book of lies I had to cum on and wipe my ass, tearing out a few pages here and there. This morning I felt a sudden rush of inspiration to burn it. I knew it was Satan who wanted me to do, in my mind, one of the most symbolic acts of desecration to further bind me to him.
This was shortly after I had done a renunciation/dedication ritual. I think the fact that I was so satanically inspired is proof my ritual was authentic and true. So I tossed the book of lies in my fire pit, sprinkled a bit of gasoline on it, then used a lighter to ignite it.
I was startled at the huge fire ball (thankfully Satan protected me), but I smiled knowing the inferno was like a wink from Satan giving me the satisfaction of a dramatic fiery display. I love that I burned the cherished book of my former faith. I love that Satan is present with me and guiding me on my path. Hail Satan forever!
What I destroyed wasn’t just a book—it was a boundary. And when it burned, something unholy opened in me. The thrill was in the desecration, the deliberate perversion of something millions hold sacred.
Now that it’s gone, I’m left with a craving for it. I don’t miss “God’s Word”. I miss ruining it. I miss pressing my shit into its pages, dragging the sacred into the gutter with me and daring it to speak. It didn’t. It burned like anything else—maybe more beautifully.
And that’s what haunts me: not remorse, but the lack of anything left to defile. I want more. I want holier things to violate. I want angels to scream when I touch what they guard. I want God to watch and be powerless. I want to make the divine bleed ink and ash and silence.
Whatever light once lived in me is gone—and in its place, something far more honest. Something that knows worship only through ruin. And it’s still hungry.