The Parasite, Outsider Satanism

The Parasite, Outsider Satanism.

​ The Satanist does not kneel; he does not bargain for belonging. The Outsider “Satanist” kneels anyway- to his own craving for validation, to the herd’s pity, to the cheap thrills of a label worn like a scar. He crowns his loneliness. He names his self-pity rebellion. He collects grievances like trinkets, then wonders why his altar gathers only dust. The true Satanist does not need to be cast out. He casts himself out by design, because the gate is too narrow for the crawling of the crowd.

Comfort is a drug, and the Outsider “Satanist” is an addict in bad makeup. He wants the safety of the rebel without the risk of isolation. He wants the aesthetics of the forbidden without the discipline of actual transgressions. He trades will for identity, power for a pronoun. He speaks of “finding his people” as though Satanism were a shelter, not a forge. The forge does not comfort. It burns away the soft. If you come to Satanism seeking arms that will hold you, you have failed. The strong do not need holding.

Outsider Satanism is a surrender dressed in horns. It begs the world for acknowledgement, then whines when the world calls it a joke. Worse: it calls that joke “resistance.” The Satanist does not resist. He asserts. He does not need permission to exist- not from a god, not from a church, not from a subreddit. The Outsider “Satanist” spends his will on a petition. The Satanist spends his will on himself; one is a beggar, the other, self-sovereign.

There is no merit in being misunderstood by fools. There is only the dignity of refusing to explain. The Outsider “Satanist” explains endlessly, hoping someone will validate his pain. The Satanist Acts: the results speak. If no one speaks of you, good- you are not yet a target. If they speak of you with contempt, better, you have done something worth envying. If they pity you, you have failed. Pity is the perfume of the weak.

Stop asking Satanism to adopt you, adopt yourself, build your own law, your own silence, your own contempt for the begging herd. The door is open; it always was, but it opens outwards. Hail Satan!