Flashback to circa 2017

I am the Aghori of the funeral pyre of modernity, for I smear
the ashes of contemporary degeneracy on my pale body under
each and every moon, that yellow eye of the sky-wolf... and
with each and every dawn that follows in the shadow of its
grey-haired, Behemothic astral flesh, I put another blade to my
body... for I am the philosopher of the dagger, and I both hurt
myself and hurt others with it: the ghost of atheism haunts
my room, it is no longer present in any actual sense because I
murdered it violently. Instead now the mystery of religion
swells therein, and I welcome this ephemeral presence – but I
choose not to tamper with the energies which whirl in its wake,
breathing all around me now as if a cloud of a gas of guidance,
because I know that man so does at his peril: the fire-flies of
possibility have begun to flutter and buzz all around me, and I
sense a whiff of victory; I have beheaded the atheism Medusa,
and from doing that, truth now imbues me as Jibril imbued
Mohammad, with visions and with revelations; with
trepidations and with awesome seizures...