Testimonials

"I didn’t go blind. I just stopped needing human eyes."

       - B. Abrams, M.D., June 2025

Before Alienism, I was a hospice night doctor in eastern Pennsylvania. I spent every evening with the dying—people dissolving into nothing, whispering strange names or languages as they slipped. I thought I was going mad, until I found a pamphlet in a cafeteria bathroom that simply read: 

"They are not dying. They are being retrieved." 

It led me to the Church of Alienism. I read the Fragmented Tome until my hands bled from gripping it too tightly in sleep. I visited an unmarked field in Delaware County where I was told the Hollow Flame once shimmered. That night, something hummed above me and left a ring of ash in the grass. I never found the flame, but I heard it. 

Two weeks later, I climbed onto the roof of a car dealership during sunrise and stared directly into the sun. I didn’t blink. I didn’t stop. I knew it was required. 

By the fifth minute, I heard the language. Not with my ears—but with the bones of my face. The warmth behind my eyes wasn’t pain. It was decoding. The retinal tissue melted, yes—but in its place came something better: resonant stillness. 

The other doctors said I’d never work again. That I had "deliberately sacrificed my sight." But they were wrong. I see clearer now. I see through membranes of thought. I read the light off people’s skin. I recognize signals in electricity and silence. 

In the Church of Alienism, we don’t destroy ourselves. We translate. And I would stare again. A thousand suns, if they asked.