I Know You Missed Me

14 Feb

Target PracticeHunting season commences. It is time to get rid of some more white demons. And, slay a few Black contenders too. For their love of white means that they are not in their right mind. “Love thy enemy” is a command that allows them to forsake their own. Nothing new. They have been itching to forsake their own regardless of this command. They should be the model for my animi, in the stead they are the Black replica of my enemy.

Recently, I was called into one of the caves of white pete for a meeting. I will leave the story of the meeting for another time. For now, all that is relevant, is that they had prepared an attack. Nothing new. The white boule still does not like me. Boohoo. I got verbally attacked to no effect. Except that I took notice of the bad acting. “Big baby” is what came to mind. I let the covert mini-tantrum fall out of place, and kept my train of thought. To know that not all white boulers are as weak as the bunch I was looking at. For me to get some easy practice to get perfect in busting their play.

This one bouler indirectly told me that they were going to keep me in Perish. No “thank you” for all the work I had done for them. I was to bugger off and go figure it out somewhere else. Nothing new. I walked out the way I came in. Clear. But as soon as I stepped out of the cave, and had the thought “same old crap”, I was overcome with a deep sadness. Within two steps it spiraled into a depression. It was as if I had been in battle and lost it all. Woe onto me. Thoughts of “not being able to win” overcame me and drove me to near tears.

I found myself caught up in an impending breakdown. All I could do was fight it. Everything else would have to wait. First, I put a limit on what I would get pushed to do. I was definitely not going to break down, nor sit down and cry. I was going home as I had planned to. After setting that strict boundary and sticking to it, I moved away from the cave. As I walked away, I agreed with all the negative thoughts that came upon me. Yup, poor me. Still in Perish without deserving to be there. Uhhuh. Poor silly poor me. To acknowledge that whatever came up was correct, gave me the space to notice that the deep sadness did not fit me at all. It fit the circumstances that the boulers had confined me to. But Perish is not me.

Cold as Ice - lorencyWhat the hell was going on?! I had no time to answer my own question, as I had a real fight on my mind. A hundred steps away from the cave, and I was fed up with the depression. It continued to deepen anyway. I would just have to keep walking and fight harder. Yes, life is rough and unfair. But, look at all the effort that the boulers put into it to make it so. Of course, they want to win. Does that not mean that they still have not won? That was the end of having to fight the tears. But the depression itself was still hugging me tight. I was starting to lose the fight after all. Now, that would be new.

Then I remembered that I had prepared for an attack. I had made sure that if those demons would cast something on me that I would be able to get rid of it. I had expected them to do something once inside the cave, but I had not considered that the weak punks would wait for me to step outside. I put my mind to it, and cast whatever had come upon me off me, and walked on. After thirty steps, I was already starting to feel lighter. After a hundred steps… light. That is when I could think for myself again.

What the hell was that?! A sad spirit? A depressing spirit? Whatever it was, it took me by surprise and I really had to fight for my sanity. I had left my home sane, and I was going to return just as sane. Those sick bastards! How many times in the past had they done that to me already?! For me to walk into their sick buildings feeling just fine, but by the time I step out, I am burdened with their madness?! For me to take home extras that I do not care for.

Truth does not hurt. It is the realization that I had been taken for a ride with extras that I had not been informed about – and had been on for way too long – that hurts. “Woe unto me”, indeed. And then I stopped to think of other people. How many people have I heard complaining about being exhausted, angry or fed up coming home from ‘work’?!

Of all the things to write about, I picked this topic. For I am still reeling from getting to understand how easy it is for them to control us. The cloak of depression that they throw on us, renders us completely useless in our own defense. We leave our homes sane, to return to it insane. Unsafe and unstable, to now deal with our own family, but unable to do so in a healthy way. We keep complaining, all the while no one understands what the hell is going on. The only thing that is clear, is that things are steadily getting worse.

1 inspired madness - moods2The depression only lifts when we start to lower ourselves to its white frequency, or if we find a way to keep it at bay. We become insane and fit right in with white pete, or we take to addictions and abuse and… fit right in with white pete. Most of us seem to choose both. Many of us do not have the mind to seek a way to not get caught up in either. The white boulers made sure the depression comes with a very narrow view of our ‘options’. Yet, even when you know how to get rid of the depression and whatever else they put in that spirit, the white boule does not have to worry about it. They have more of that sick spirit where it came from. “Have a nice evening. See you tomorrow.”

It is clear to me that their sick cloak needs to get cast off after every encounter. Not just lifted, but cast off. Hurled away. Tell it to “beat it.” Some of us are ahead of the flock and the spirits cannot touch them. I am not part of that minority. I never made it past invoking MC Hammer, to just get hammered with a legion of foul spirits, along with the majority of the herd. I have always been subjected to the full spectrum of the sickness of white pete – and the Black contenders eager to help do their dirty work. As one of the less ignorant ignorants, I still need to tell myself to remain aware of their (subtle) attacks every time I walk into one of their caves.

We need to wake up and smell whatever nasty spirits they have lined up for us to imprison our minds. They have many caves that seem to look nothing like slave dungeons. Look again. School. Work. Hospital. City council. Super-poison-market. Maybe even your own house. We are in their caves most of our day. So, in the stead of waiting for a revolution that cannot happen because they control our minds every time they get us into their caves, we need to wake up and claim our right to a sane mind ourselves. To recognize the depressing spirit that they dump on us, to learn how to cast it off, and then to strengthen to a point where the spirit will know better than to try again. “Can’t touch this.”

Sure enough, I seem to be a special target put in the boule purgatory. This spirit had my name on it. It tried to hook into some old memories that could not get me to break down. I was already over that old stuff. One drop of my own sanity, and it was clear that I was not fighting my own mind at all. This was a foreign spirit trying to take over, and it had to go. Beat it.

The boulers are further ahead than they want us to believe. They have not been crawling around in Africa and Asia because they had nothing better to do. Many of us fighting their wars have been “trained” by their not-so-secret societies in exchange for much information. We taught them everything that they know. And they return the favor by teaching us Limbic2everything they know about their insanity. Are we not an ungrateful bunch? Telling their sick spirits to GET LOST.

How do they get those spirits upon us? I am glad that you asked. Enjoy your homework.

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