Some of you are just starting to wake up to how this works.
There are places—often dressed up as spiritual sanctuaries, led by Hindu gurus or Western high priestesses—where the whole setup is built to feed something. Not uplift. Not transform. Feed.
Back in 2004, I got pulled into one of these setups by a friend of my father’s. She thought she was some kind of radiant priestess, beaming with cosmic wisdom. But she wasn’t running the show. She was a puppet. The real operator was the thing behind her. Not the guru she worshiped, Satya Sai Baba, but a thing behind this fella. Looked like a huge, ugly dark thing. (I still love the incense, tho. But I know to keep it unattached)
She dragged me to what looked like a typical ashram-style event. Harmless on the surface. Singing, devotional mantras, incense in the air. Then they opened a box during one of the chants, and I saw it. A shadow entity rose up from that container—no metaphor. Tendrils reached out across the group. Everyone’s eyes closed, arms raised, voices chanting in sync. They were being drained, and loving it.
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