Death.
The more life goes on the more I think about death. Every day of my western life seems to compound with the previous, like stones in my satchel while I trudge through a thick mire. With each new stone I feel my gait shifting, my pace slowing, my back straining just a little more.
Only recently I discovered western occultism and have since dove head first into it. I had to be careful not to gorge myself on too much too quickly lest I consume and integrate something poisoned. As such I have taken it slowly so far. Sigils, thoughtforms, energy work, etc. All the neophyte practices.
But the stones remain. After several months of work (with progress undeniable) I still feel the weight on me every day. And sometimes I think of just dying. What do I have to lose? What would I gain? These two questions hold me in place and keep me from simply killing myself. And while my stalemate drags on I continue the practices, hoping something will change.
So I ask you /fringe/, is there an answer to my questions? What do I lose by dying, in terms of magickal progression? Is there anything to gain by simply forcing my hand into the next?