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Why I Hate the Hate Group Women’s March

I’m a woman who doesn’t agree with all the new trending hate groups that are popping up all over America in recent years. The Women’s March is one such hate group who has garnered millions of fans made up of men and women and all sorts of people with identity and gender crisis issues in between. The hate group Women’s March however, has a special place in my shriveled blackened heart of hearts because it’s a group which tries to claim to stand for all women. Well, they’re definitely not fucking standing up for this woman because I can stand up for myself without their hate and their bullshit.

What the hate group Women’s March really is is a disgrace to all women everywhere. From Madonna wanting to blow up the White House to Ashley Judd’s poem of being a nasty woman but not as nasty as President Donald Trump’s daughter Ivanka being a sex symbol to her father, to all the trash left behind by millions of people who littered in the streets and didn’t care, to the blatant message of treason of “standing up and fighting against” the President of the United States of America, to the supposed issues that women face today in America which is nothing compared to what women face in other countries around the world.

The hate group Women’s March creates a division in genders, promoting the discrimination of all males in favor of females by constantly creating the illusion that all females are victims. Does that plan sound familiar to anyone? The hate group, Black Lives Matter, did the same thing by creating a division between skin color and promoting the discrimination of all whites and people of lighter skin color in favor of all blacks and people of a darker skin color by constantly creating the illusion that all blacks and people of a darker skin color are victims.

I will always call hate groups for what they really are, hate groups. Here are some ways to recognize them.

Hate groups pretend to promote peace and love, but their messages are of spreading fear and violence and destruction and harm to others. “We just want equality for all women in America,” the hate group Women’s March would say. “We’re fighting to protect our rights and our children’s rights to having control over our bodies. Our vaginas are ours and we decide what we can do with them.” The actual message that the hate group Women’s March really says is this, “All men are chauvinistic pigs who can’t control their penises so we have to assume all men are rapists. Trump is a man so let’s blow up the White House so we can get a vagina in there who is like us. Trump’s ten year old son is a man so let’s compare him to a school shooter because obviously, men are more violent than women and he’ll grow up to be a mass murderer anyway.” Hate groups like Women’s March are sick and perverted. Once they hook people in with their fake message of spreading peace, they begin their real work on creating fear and causing violence and destruction and harm to others. Any group that victimizes children like the hate group Women’s March is just sickening.

Hate groups hide behind the excuse that they are the victims while victimizing everyone else. “Men rape women all the time. It’s just not accounted for. All men are rapists,” the hate group Women’s March would say. While pretending to be victims of rape, women paint a solid picture that all men are rapists and women must therefore hate all men and protect their selves from all men. “Women don’t get equal pay as men because we’re women,” is one of the many tired excuses of feminists everywhere. If women worked as hard as men did doing the same jobs and putting in the same amount of effort, then women would get paid the same, but they don’t. The wage gap isn’t because a man gets paid more to have a penis. The wage gap is because women choose not to work as hard as men do doing the same job because they have family and friends and other things that they want to do instead of putting in the hours at work. A woman would more likely choose their family and their children and their friends over working more or doing more work. So all these supposed women’s issues that exist because men are oppressing women are a load of bullshit. Women, stop fucking drinking every Friday night with friends and you might actually get that pay raise you’ve been looking for when you work as hard as the other people doing that same job.

Hate groups demand special privileges. “We deserve to be able to choose what to do with the growing baby inside our bodies that we got from having unprotected sex because we already made the choice to have sex, but we don’t want to bear the responsibilities of becoming actual adults and taking care of that child and raising that child,” the hate group Women’s March would say in their defense of a woman’s right to an abortion. “It’s still our bodies and no man is going to tell us we can’t kill the living child inside because it’s our bodies and our vaginas.” If retroactive abortion existed, the world would be a better place without such selfish and lame ass excuses of people who desires to kill a life without the consequences of being punished for murder. The truth is that while the hate group Women’s March pretends to be the sad victim of being born a second rate citizen due to their vagina in a world of penises, their only goal is to oppress and force special privileges to be made because of their fucking vagina. If women stopped having sex, period, they wouldn’t get pregnant. But no, all men are rapists and all pregnancies are caused by rapists so as a woman, they’re totally fucking innocent of being the sluts they are and opening their vaginas to penises. Women, stop fucking people and you wouldn’t have to worry about an abortion. A woman using her vagina as an excuse to demand reparations for false perceptions of social injustice because they still ultimately choose their circumstances doesn’t make their fucking vagina a valid excuse to murder a life because a baby is inconvenient to that fucking vagina who fucked around and got pregnant. Women are fucking drama queens. “I have a vagina. I’m special. I need special rules that puts me above everyone else because I’m better than everyone else.” This fucking type of behavior of a woman who flaunts their vagina as the be all, end all is disgusting and is absolutely disrespectful to all women everywhere. Your fucking vagina is not that fucking special. Get your heads out of your asses or should I say, get your heads out of your vaginas.

Hate groups always use famous names to validate their false causes and make their issues and concerns seem real and true. Madonna, the queen of pop who shamelessly said to the crowd at Madison Square Garden and to everyone watching that she’d give them a blow job if they voted for Hillary Clinton, also said that she has thought an awful lot about blowing up the White House because Trump is now president. While many people try to claim that she wasn’t serious saying either of those things, someone like Madonna who has followers and fans in the millions, is able to convince people that it’s okay to do such things. Her solicitation of oral sex for Hillary votes during the Presidential campaign and her treasonous call to blowing up the White House is by no means a joke or something to be taken lightly of.

Ashley Judd, a once upon a time decent actress, exclaimed she was a nasty woman to the cheers of hundreds of thousands of people at the hate group Women’s March. She continued to read a poem exclaiming how nasty of a woman she was, but that she’s not as nasty as President Trump who is a man. And while hundreds of thousands of stupid people are cheering on such disgusting behavior, they fail to realize that the disgusting behavior is the truth of this entire hate group, that there is no love and peace, that there is only hatred and ugliness.

Hate groups always need to point the finger to divert attention from what they’re really doing and they’ll be as bold to blame someone else for what they are doing. Actress America Ferrera said at the hate group Women’s March, “It’s been a heart-rending time to be both a woman and an immigrant in this country. Our dignity, our character, our rights have all been under attack and a platform of hate and division assumed power yesterday. But the president is not America. His cabinet is not America. Congress is not America. We are America. And we are here to stay.” It’s a shame actresses don’t have to be very intelligent. The platform of hate and division she’s talking about is really the hate group Women’s March whose sole purpose is to divide the country into fucking vaginas and bad penises, except for the penises that claim to be fake vaginas in this life or another life or whenever they feel like cutting it off. What a hate group does is instead of focusing on valid issues and concerns, they turn around and start blaming. “President Trump has a penis. President Trump is bad. President Trump’s cabinet has men in there. And those men have penises. And penises are bad.” Fucking hell. Isn’t it tiring to try and blame your own choices on someone else? Most of the bullshit women’s issues stem from choices women made. Women choose to fucking have sex. Baby results. Women kills babies because it’s an inconvenient truth of them opening their fucking legs. Women choose to party and go to clubs and drinks with friends instead of working. Work productivity declines because of lack of sleep and hangovers and other issues from a choice women made. Women puts in less effort at work. Women gets paid less. Oh, it’s suddenly men’s fault women don’t do so well at work because they choose to prioritize other things above work. Fucking fluffy special snowflakes who never take responsibility for their selves and simply want to blame everyone else for shitty choices they made in life.

Scarlett Johansson said, “President Trump, I did not vote for you. That said, I respect that you are you our President-elect and I want to be able to support you. But first I ask that you support me, support my sister, support my mother, support my best friends and all of all girlfriends. Support the men and women here today that are anxiously awaiting to see how your next moves may drastically affect their lives. Support my daughter who may actually, as a result of the appointments you have made, grow up in a county that is moving backwards, not forward, and who may potentially not have the right to make choices for her body and her future that your daughter Ivanka has been privileged to have.” While I respect her for calling him President Trump, she’s not that bright either. How in the world is a woman potentially not able to make choices for her body and her future? As far as I’m aware, America has not become a one-child policy country like China where millions of baby girls are discarded or killed because of their gender. America is not a women genital mutilated area like Mali. America is not a country where little girls are sold into prostitution and sex trafficking like all the countries of southeast Asia (Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, Philippines, Vietnam). America is not a country where women are gang raped to pay for men’s crimes like Pakistan. America is not a country where women have unequal education rights like Afghanistan. So exactly what kind of “privileges” that American women may not all of a sudden have? Oh, fucking abortion because in a country where women are able to do everything a man can, where women have equal opportunities for education and pay and being able to wake up and be dressed as slutty as they want, women are fucking worried about not being able to kill babies so they don’t have to live with the consequences of their actions. Women in America are a fucking joke. I will cheer when President Trump defunds Planned Parenthood and its baby murdering factories.

Singer Alicia Keys also said the same idiotic thing, “We will not allow our bodies to be owned and controlled by men in government or men anywhere for that matter.” Every woman in America with their fucking stupid first world problems needs to educate their selves on how women in other countries live and be active to help support those women who are way worse off than any fucking woman in America would ever be. Women in the Middle East are beheaded for having sex before marriage. Guess how many American women would’ve been dead if women had no rights as the hate group Women’s March is claiming? I would say every fucking vagina marching would be dead. But America isn’t the Middle East. Aren’t you vaginas lucky you live here and not there? Aren’t you happy that the only complaint you have is not being able to murder babies you got yourself pregnant with? Women in America with their first world problems are indeed a fucking joke.

All in all, I’m pretty sure the hate group Women’s March won’t be the last hate group that springs up to try and divide and conquer this nation and it’s people. Unfortunately, the people of America isn’t all that smart, at least not the millions that are following such hate groups around like loyal dogs. But, there’s still hope. People can learn to start to recognize hate groups for what they really are and people can stop accommodating and condoning and especially tolerating such hate groups and their agendas. It’s time to stand up for yourself and not allow some fucking hate group like Women’s March to stand up for you because you’re a woman. I’m a woman and I say fuck no to the hate group Women’s March.

 
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Posted by on January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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America, A Nation of Fluffy Special Snowflakes

I was talking to British and German friends yesterday who asked me about a fellow American we used to be friends with. They haven’t seen him in a while after they told him to stop with the ranting on the presidential elections, his disagreement at Trump’s win for Presidency, his complaints about how unfairly him and his rainbow friends were being treated in the country, and his general dissatisfaction with his own life through blaming others for his circumstance and state. I haven’t talked to him since I was a Christian and he’d constantly bait me with religious memes and specifically tag me to ask for my opinion on controversial religious things which he could then point out in his favor of why God gives the holy approval for him to deliberately continue sinning against God. He was not good for my stress level and I’ve let him go as a friend long ago.

“I really think the bloke would do you lot some good,” said a British friend referring to President Trump. And I agreed. He would also do good for the international community.

Britain has always been the strongest ally of the United States. Unfortunately for the Brits, that connection means that if there’s some war hungry asshole as President who goes to war, the Brits would have to go to war too in support of the United States of America. And that kind of behavior from a President can lead to strained relationships especially when other countries have no problems with the countries we’re trying to make up lies about to invade or countries whose governments we’re rebelling against and trying to overthrow.

I reminded my friend of this. Trump would be better for international relations as he’s looking to connect to the international community in peace and friendship instead of a fucking egotistical dictator of the world, which we’ve been as a country to the entire world many times in the past. The entire Middle East is a breeding zone for islamic terrorists because we’re assholes and we’ve destroyed their countries, we created the islamic terrorists we’re now fighting against, and we’ve dismantled any sense of peace that region has with our constant bullshit meddling. Trump has a lot to clean up from previous presidents, but I believe he will clean up this mess we created and it starts with getting the fuck out of other countries and their businesses and how their governments are running. We have no business meddling in the affairs of others.

So even people in other countries thinks Trump is a good change for America. But yet, we have all this division in America. There’s more hate groups popping up now than ever before under the disguise of “love and peace” while they preach destruction and death and treason. What in the hell is wrong with America?

What’s wrong with us is that we are a generation of fucking idiots. And since stupid catches on like fire, the disgusting cesspool of filth also sucks in older generations who were taught better and who should know how to behave better. America and Americans have become a disgrace.

We are a nation of fools committed to our foolishness whose false sense of intelligence is so fucking roundabout that we somehow believe 8+5=10.

We are a nation of special snowflakes who cry and bitch and moan and then throw temper tantrums like five year olds because we don’t get our way in everything.

We are a nation of people like the guy my friends and I talked about, someone who lives in America, has a roof over their head, has a job, can afford all the brightly colored wigs he wears and the expensive makeup to cake his face in layers to look like a girl, who has clean water and working bathrooms, who uses the internet and makes phone calls, who eats well even and has help from friends and family if needed, someone who can be mean as fuck and disrespect other people and their beliefs, who baits people on purpose to arguments, who bullies others when they don’t agree with him, and yet still moans about how his life is such a fucking tragedy because of everyone else always discriminating against him when he’s not in fucking girl costume and other people don’t even know he dresses in drag because he hides it like a shameful skeleton in his closet.

We are a nation of fucking assholes who blatantly fucks people over and then cries like a pathetic kicked puppy when someone “hurts our feelings”.

I fucking hate people, more so now than before, not because of their skin color or what the fuck is in between their legs, but because they are fucking stupid and they behave in fucking stupid ways. People in America can’t get their heads out of their asses long enough to realize they’re not the fluffy special snowflakes they believe they are. There is no way I will ever condone this fucking mass hysteria trending snowflake syndrome bullshit. There is also no way I will ever fucking respect any of these people whose sole intentions are to hurt others through violence, through coercion, through any means necessary so they can pat themselves on the back for a job well done at becoming the scum of humanity under the disguise of peace and love. Fuck them and fuck their lies.

 
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Posted by on January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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Eternal Life is Not a Gift. It is a Contract.

What is a gift?

If I gave a gift to someone, there are no strings attached, right? The meaning of a gift is that that person I’m giving it to, has done nothing to earn that gift. And they also have to do nothing in order to keep that gift. I don’t expect anything from them. I don’t expect them to be nice to me. I don’t expect them to have done something nice to me before hand. Gifts are like how we give things to strangers and part ways and forget about the good thing we’ve done. We’ll never meet them again, but we gave because we wanted to, not because they had something to offer us back.

Romans 6:23 KJV says:

“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

I’m confused. How is eternal life a gift from God if we have to constantly be bound by rules and regulations and acts in order to retain that gift? It’s a contract, not a gift. A contract states that certain obligations have to be met in order for certain things to happen. What we’re really doing is signing a contract. We’re saying that we agree to God’s terms and we agree to live and abide by His word, and in return, we get the chance of living in heaven forever with him. It’s a chance because it’s not even a guarantee that we’ll end up in heaven. What we’re doing is signing a contract with God.

How is signing a contract the same as a gift? A gift is given with no strings attached. A gift is given primarily out of love. A contract is business. A contract is an agreement on terms of trade. A contract is not a gift. And eternal life is not a gift.Eternal life is a contract.

All in all, including all the obligations I’ve explained in an earlier post about how much stuff there is that goes into being saved that one has to do in order to be saved, you also have to give up your soul. I kind of glossed over that fact in my last post. The, “God owns your soul now and forevermore” part is part of that contract. Yep. You give up all rights to your soul. It’s even stated in the Bible what happens to your souls.

Jesus said that when people die and they go to heaven, they will be like the angels of heaven. And how are the angels of heaven, the ones that still live in heaven? Well, they play by daddy’s rules and they follow every one of daddy’s commands and essentially, they are daddy’s mindless drones that completes daddy’s tasks he sets for them. So in heaven, people will be exactly like the angels: mindless drones that do the bidding of God and his Christ.

Sounds fun, doesn’t it? I could be burning in hell or I could be a mindless drone in heaven. Which one would I rather be?

All in all, I am so lost and confused and maybe clarified on a lot of things, but the best choice I ever made to become a Christian suddenly doesn’t seem to be a good choice. And it hurts, this confusion and this pain. This annoyance with not knowing what the truth really is. Quite frankly, I don’t know if I’d trust the truth anymore if I did know it.

 
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Posted by on September 16, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The Worlds We Create

There’s a story that goes somewhere along the lines of one being left alone after family is burned in a house fire…these are the tales of people I’ve met throughout the years who have said such things, the tales of those who would later come to be known as vampires.

“And when I woke, everything was different. Everything was new.”

Is it a passing myth that to be a vampire, one must lose all their mortal families in a house fire?

The first tale was told over a decade ago by a woman who claimed to be a real vampire and not the kind that are found today strolling into goth clubs and feeding off of blood for fun. No. She claimed to be a very old vampire who have lived for centuries and has been sheltered from the modern world and all it’s technological advances…that is, if you didn’t count using the internet which was the medium in which we spoke. And of course, computers because that’s pretty modern too. Her story was one liken from The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood in which a society of wealth ruled all lower classes and subjected them to labor and servitude. She lived in a castle by the cliffs of the sea, in which vampires flew by night and her Lord and Master still uses gold coins at an exceedingly too-good-to-be-true rate of thousands of dollars for one coin. I was hooked at the time on her story and the reality that even if nothing she said was true, she believed it and had created a world of magnificence and wonder for herself that was more real than the reality in which she lived. It was her father and twin brother who had died in a mysterious house fire, and later, her Lord and Master found her and took her in, raising her as his own bride-to-be if he had not yet already had a wife and many mistresses from multiple marriages before her existence.

The second time I heard it was from a man claiming to be a vampire. His father and sister died in a house fire and he was left alone to fend for himself. How he eventually became a vampire, that part never remained with my memory, but he claimed to be a real vampire, those of old and of legends.

The third time I heard it was recently. A girl’s parents died in a house fire and left her and her twin brother alone. She didn’t claim to be a real vampire, but she played one on Second Life where I too, played a vampire with Bloodlines.

What kind of lives do we have? First lives–the ones where we are born into; second life–the ones we live inside the online SL game; past lives–the ones where we remember or are recalled during hypnosis; real lives–the ones that we have to live now at this moment in physical reality; dream lives–the ones we live inside our dreams; metaphysical lives–the ones we live in our heads, in the astral, in our imaginations, etc, etc. And that’s a noninclusive list too.

I left Facebook because of some things that were occurring at the time which wasn’t best for me and made me unhappy. So I found Second Life, which was very much like one of my favorite games, The Sims, to bring myself out of depression and excess emotions. What I found on SL was a pretty cool world that made me happy and I had fun…until I realized that people will be people, no matter where they are.

Jane was a girl I took in as a minion in SL. We roleplayed vampires for Bloodlines. I loved her a lot and treated her as a daughter. Little did I know that everything I’ve been told by her was a lie…from her age (she claimed to be 23) to her life (parents died in a house fire; no relatives; twin brother has a 7 year old daughter; brother and sister alternated months working to have a baby sitter for the daughter/niece; was dumped by her boyfriend after finding out she was pregnant with twins in real life; got back together with the boyfriend; boyfriend was leaving to Japan; had blurred relationship with an SL player who fell in love with her; dumped the boyfriend for another SL player–a different one; had bad news that one of the twin babies weren’t going to survive; brother committed suicide due to the baby’s mother leaving him (but they weren’t even together nor did they live together); was being harassed and attacked on SL from ex-boyfriend who played on SL; niece is suddenly in Japan; niece is suddenly 5 years old and the 7 year old is someone else; lives in Florida instead of the midwest; brother and sister made fake accounts because they’re paranoid; has no social accounts at all except for hotmail and skype; brother and sister were given Japanese names like Rin and Rina by American parents who were named Lorena and James)…and the list went on.

*face palms*

That’s one dramatic complicated life to keep up with. Nothing she said was true and the only answer she had for any questions asked about her true self was, “why would I lie to you? I trust you.”

*shakes head*

From where do people create such lies and do they actually believe in them?

I have to admit that I’m a lot sassier these days. Most of it stems from learning how to stand up for myself. I still fall for the trap of being manipulated by others for a certain amount of time, but I am catching on quicker and quicker to the game.

Being forced to love someone through manipulation doesn’t mean that there isn’t love there, even when there wasn’t that type of love present in the beginning. And just like that, the worlds that we create for ourselves, we begin to believe in, even if we didn’t believe it in the beginning when we created it.

I learned invaluable lessons from Facebook and Second Life. Even the most innocent seeming of people can be the most wicked and hurtful. Sad sob stories are a way of controlling people through their sympathy and relation to pain, sadness, and bad things that occur in life. Suicide threats are a way of manipulating others. It might sound harsh, but people who want to kill themselves would’ve already done so. People who cry wolf, just want the attention, as sad as that may be. Any threat is a way of manipulation, no matter how subtle or blunt the threat is.

If standing up for myself makes me a bitch, then I’d gladly take that label any day than to succumb to the will and trickery of others. I am a lot harsher these days and a lot less tolerant of abuse in that way. I cry a lot less these days than I have in the past. And I remember less and less of those that needed to be left behind for my happiness and well being. Loving someone is a great thing, but when loving someone is causing you pain, you’ve got to let them go.

Many months ago, I downloaded a bunch of pictures of an ex-best friend, her mother, and their pets to print out on nice photo paper and send to her since she was incarcerated. I knew no one else would do it and she had no other family outside of prison walls. Even though we no longer spoke, I was going to do the nice and right thing. But I realized that that nice and right thing was for her, not for me. What did I get out of someone who hurt me badly, who I trusted and loved like one of my own sisters, and who I cared for and spared nothing that I wouldn’t give or do for her? Nothing. And so, for my sake, it was best if I started to do what was nice and right for myself, which meant that I was going to have to let go of her. It’s sad that she’s not getting out until 2021, that her entire family is incarcerated, and that she’s actually a decent person and a decent friend to everyone else…but none of that matters now. I won’t go back. And for what? To repeat the same pattern all over again? No thank you.

Some things, I’m not ready to face head on yet. An ex-friend had blocked me on Facebook since June 10th. We actually weren’t friends since March or April. I haven’t been on Facebook since I started playing SL almost a month ago. I came back and saw that I was unblocked. And because I wasn’t ready to deal with all the false emotions of a love I never wanted in the first place that was returning, I blocked the person. It didn’t matter that I was happy now or that I was in love with someone else now who loves me back and gives me the kind of love and relationship that I wanted and deserved. A manipulated love by a third party that I trusted and cared for and loved made everything all the worse. That third party, I didn’t block. I learned to stand up for myself against that third party and thus, have rid myself of the manipulations and lies. But until I can figure out what to do or until I can finally let go of the ex-friend and the emotions involved, that person will remained blocked.

People manipulate others for various reasons, some of them the most idiotic. The other night, a girl commented that she was going to kill herself. Her life didn’t even warrant anything worth dying over. She had a 3 year old son that she had been fighting the state to get back for the past 2 years because she said jealous friends of family called Child Protection Services because her house was “dirty”. Aside from other things that makes no sense like her son’s adoption to people who are now expecting a child of their own…she wanted to kill herself. Being sleep deprived and cranky, after much babble trying to calm her down, I said, “Since you’re going to kill yourself, let me tell you about Jesus”. She didn’t like that and threatened that she was calm and if I attacked her with Jesus, then she’d kill herself. My point was that she was going to do it anyway so why not tell her about Jesus and save her soul? I shrugged, commented that since she’s calm now, it was cool, but that if she did see God, she should tell Him that I tried and she didn’t want to hear it. Boy did she go off about not being calm if I brought up Jesus or God. So I simply said since she was calm and good, I was done trying to convince her not to kill herself and called it a night. I find it ironic that people who threaten self harm or death are still prideful and stubborn. This is a repeated pattern in my experience with others. When people want to die, I talk about Jesus. For some reason, they stop threatening death. And I’m the crazy one for talking about Jesus. *shakes head*

In SL, when I get unsolicited IM messages for sex or friendships and relationships, I usually kill any further IMs by simply asking if the person wants to be a vampire or a lycan. For some reason, people want sex, not to join a guild or a clan. It’s ironic and amusing to me that such a simple thing such as commitment will make someone run in the opposite direction.

Do people believe the lies they tell themselves?

I don’t really know, but I’m falling asleep now. I’m still working on dispelling the lies I’ve been misled to believe about myself and my life. I like things simple. I couldn’t keep up with all the lies if I told myself such things.

This ends on an unfinished, odd note. Screw it. I’m off to bed.

 
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Posted by on August 11, 2014 in Diary, Uncategorized

 

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The Reality of Watchers and Guardians and Everything Else in Between

For people who don’t know, I live a rather crazy fantasy life, one not really of my own choosing, but one that kind of just fell on me. I’m thankful that’s not literal.

I don’t indulge in the whole supernatural/new age/occultic/paranormal thing. I actually avoid it all unless there’s pressing matters that requires I must absolutely do something and can’t ignore. Today, I want to talk a bit about my weirdness and the things in it.

My crazy recurring dreams was the gateway drug into the madness for me. It’s common for people to have one or a few recurring dreams. All my dreams are recurring dreams. And that’s not normal. I was always afraid to sleep. And it wasn’t just the dreams. In waking life, I was immersed in an invisible world from as far back as I can remember, one where even my parents who were shamans (and still are), couldn’t understand and relate to. Apparently, the things I’ve experienced, aren’t normal to them either (shamans communicate with spirits). It made me feel more alone than ever. And in my quest to fit in somewhere–between the world of the living and the world of the invisible, I started to try and understand what was happening to me and why.

When I met Keera (whose name is actually spelled, Ke’era), I never knew she’d enlighten me a bit about my dreams and introduce me to hers, a world I called the Otherworld, and of the inhabitants who live there who have been in my dreams as well.

We were good friends. I thought we were. She thought I wanted them, that world and those things there. I didn’t live there. I was alive here. And I wanted to fit in here somewhere. It felt so good to have someone who would understand what I was talking about who wouldn’t look at me like I was crazy and who could actually say, “yeah, his name is Charlie”. For all the mistakes we’ve made in our friendship, she was my best friend for a long time. I don’t know where she is now or what has happened to her. I dream about her sometimes, but like in real life, she’s never there.

The Otherworld is a place that exists. I don’t know where specifically. I wrote our story–mine, actually, or whatever the thing there that looks like me and takes my name’s story. The woman with the long black hair.

For a while, Keera and I didn’t have names for them. They were named what we saw them as: the man with the ponytail; the demon; the woman with the red hair; the cursed man; the man with the green eyes; the short creatures; the lady who lived in the lake; etc. As we got more involved in that world and in them, we were able to know their names. Sometimes, they’d have normal names. Other times, their names were so creative, it sounded made up. Domonico/Demonico; Anna; Ameggo; Deltro Clearstone; Lorenzo; Charlie; Charly; Will; Maeroleez; Stephen; Carmelia; and of course, me and Keera.

How do you communicate with a world that isn’t here where voices are whispers on the wind and the entire world seems to exist within your own head? Keera and I used to call the Otherworld (she called it the OtherPlace) a shared delusion between us. It was shared schizophrenia and in a lot of ways, that was definitely it. I could infect her world and change it. And in the end, I ruined what was once a beautiful and happy and calm place for her by knowing its existence, by being a part of it.

Things got darker. And more terrifying. What used to be a quiet day relaxing in the trees for Keera in her dreams became nightmares, trying to run away from Mr. Gray, the cursed man. They became dreams of being locked up in mental institutions and having bombs strapped to the backs of others, having heads blown off with guns. And the violence increased.

I’m sure that if she could take it all back–letting me in and letting me know about her secret place–she would. Just like I would’ve taken it all back for the five years I was obsessed with finding myself and that place being a clue and what seemed like a lifetime wasted. Keera and I both have our regrets, about that world, about each other, about our past. But what’s done is done. All we can do now is to pick up the pieces and move on.

Demonico haunts me. I call him my best friend, because I can’t get rid of him. Right now, we’re not really on speaking terms. I’m actually not on speaking terms to any of them from that place, from that world. When I need him, he’s here. I guess that’s what counts. It’s a long story, one that spanned three books and I shortened to two: Beyond the Gates: Otherworld and Beyond the Gates: Darkworld.

I don’t really know what Demonico or any of the others would classify as. I call them all Watchers. Being a Christian, there’s a lot of blasphemy in my life, but aside from that, there’s also a lot of valuable insight.

What is a Watcher? In the world of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, a watcher is someone who guides and teaches the slayer in her job and duties. A Watcher is sort of the same thing. Many people have said that Watchers were once the fallen angels who came to earth and watched over the world of man, who took mortal women for wives and taught them magic and such things that mankind didn’t know of. In essence, both are true. A Watcher guides. A Watcher is a fallen angel. A Watcher teaches mankind magic. A Watcher is a nicer name than demon. Demons are fallen angels as well. So Demonico, whose name was once spelled Domonico, is actually in fact, a demon.

Contrary to popular belief, demons aren’t always the nasty, horrible smelling, violence feeding, murderous entities that they’re depicted in movies and television and books. Nope. Most demons are in fact, rather useful, rather truthful (to an extent for their own benefits), and rather nice. Yeah, I said it. They’re rather nice as in character wise kindness. After all, being mean and evil and murderous isn’t exactly a popular decision if their main purpose isn’t to kill, but to damn forever so they wouldn’t be alone when all that wonderful Judgement Day thing comes. Point is, it doesn’t matter what religion you are or what you believe in. Watchers, demons, guardians (yes, they have many names), and pretty much the majority of the invisible world exist whether you want to believe that they are real or not. Your acceptance of their existence isn’t needed for them to exist. They are here whether anyone believes or not. They have always been here.

Demonico wasn’t the first and he surely wasn’t the last in the multitude of weird things I attract. Why? I don’t even know. The next was Angelus. Another made up name for a dying god who isn’t dead and has more followers than probably the biggest church in the state I live in. Another Watcher I didn’t want.

I can’t even remember how Volk and I got to talking about Watchers and demons and such. I’m quite certain half of it had to do with my arrogance and his intelligence. He’s pretty arrogant too. He offered his Watcher, Angelus, to me. I declined. Never ask me a question where I can say no because I’d say no. He sounded so distraught. We were awesome friends. And yet, Angelus imposed himself on me. In the end, I was marked and part of the team. Yay. I sound so enthusiastic about getting deeper involved in the crazy of crazy. When my entire goal is to be normal and blend in with this world and society, more crazy things don’t help. But it’s difficult to pretend to be something I’m not either and I am not normal.

Angelus dies a lot. Go figure how a spirit can die, but they do. He was a construct, not the actual entity. I’ve had constructs. I’ve made them. Quite easy if you ask me, but then, everything’s been quite easy for me. It’s much harder for others. Do you want one composed of an actual effigy? How about one solid as a golem? Or one that just protects you while you’re doing all that astral traveling? How about one to protect you while you’re awake? There’s many uses for constructs. There’s many ways to make them. The most useful to me, are of me. Weird, but true.

The newest Watcher was Xyr, who, apparently skipped the entire bonding process that would’ve had to exist between me and Jay and instead, imposed himself on me. Again. Recurring theme here, I guess, of things forcing their way. For a weak and whiny girl who isn’t anything special, I get enslaved to being a part of something I just normally avoid.

Like Keera and Volk, Jay was needed to simply inform me of a few key elements that would lead to inevitability, which was whatever Watcher(s) that was attached to that individual. For Keera, it was Demonico. For Volk, it was Angelus. For Jay, it was Xyr.

Oh, and did I forget to mention the ArchDuke of Arcadia which is currently at war with the faes? How silly of me to forget such an important and prominent individual! Argh…the mess, the stress, the dramas…you’d wonder why I haven’t cracked yet and gone to the crazy house. That’s because no matter how crazy everything is, I’m not crazy. I only sound crazy.

Sighs

That’s not even the tip of the iceberg…

It doesn’t make me feel better to know I’m consorting around with demons. That’s the farthest from my intentions. One day, I’d like to return home to where I belong. And that’s not with them. So, right now, I persist in only knowing that there’s a bigger purpose for all of this jumbled mess and it will get sorted out later.

The best thing out of all of this, I think, is that I can relate to a multitude of people out there. Whether that’s the really crazy ones or the ones who simply, like me at one point in time, is trying to find themselves and why things happen to them. Being able to tell someone it’s okay and that we don’t actually end up in the crazy house makes everything better somehow. And letting people know that they’re not alone–that made a big difference to me so it’s good to be able to say it back to someone going through a tough time and letting them know that it’ll be okay. It will be okay.

Or is it all just in my head?

That is the question of skeptics. If someone is close to me, or if I hold them in high regards, then the weirdness in my life likes to leech on to them. I guess it’s a sort of blackmail kind of thing, and I never respond well to such things. Friends of mine have experienced dreams with entities from my part of the sphere, some as horrific as torturous nightmares. A lot of my friends don’t know the weird side of me, so they don’t talk about what happens to them and I’d have to hear it to know it. Even when they do know, they would be equally weird too, so it would seem like something weird they’re going through and not an attack from the weirder things concerning me. To everyone out there who has been hurt, I’m sorry. Maybe half of the reason why I’m antisocial is to keep everything in a bubble away from other people.

Most of the time, I don’t affect people in that manner–in the bad way. The whole nightmares thing was settled. That was a specific individual trying to get my attention and I got it and took care of it. The rest isn’t so bad. Tyesha had dreams of me and her and our four other best friends during college in some giant group orgy with a mystery guy that actually invades my dreams from time to time. I don’t even have dreams like that with that guy! Lol. That was a long time ago. He was a Watcher. And he’s actually not a part of my life anymore. He was only there at a time I needed someone to understand and there was none in this world. I was a child. Hope to a kid is heaven. And I hoped.

I actually shouldn’t affect people much. Demonico, Angelus, and Xyr would never bother anyone out of their own free will and whatnot. But I bother people sometimes. It’s kind of hard not to. When you’ve dealt with Watchers your whole life, you notice it in others. Meaning, when you know demons, you notice them in others and around others. The difficult thing is going up to someone and saying, “do you know you’ve got something dangerous with you?”

It’s hypocritical of me to pull demons out of people, knowing that I have them too and I can’t get rid of mine. Well, I take that back. I’m sure I can get rid of mine. But having more is not something I want. It’s something I have to deal with for right now.

People can tell me, “my daughter speaks to angels” or “my deceased great grandmother watches and protects our family” or “god gave me this gift to help others”. In all reality, what they’re really saying is, “this is what I believe it is”. They don’t know for sure. There’s no guarantee that what they believe is what is real.

When I was eighteen, I used to visit this cute little metaphysical shop. One of the psychics there was holding this two day workshop on developing your psychic abilities. I was invited because I was curious in the paranormal and also because I had been going to that little store for the past two years, ever since I could drive and before I could drive

At the first day of the workshop was this cool hippie looking talkative mom and her much quieter sixteen year old. She talked on and on about how her daughter speaks to angels and how they ask her to help them in their quests and everything. I watched this girl’s mom saying all this stuff about her, being proud to have a daughter who had such a spiritual gift. The girl didn’t talk at all. And even back then, before Demonico, before Angelus, before Xyr, I knew. I knew what they were and how dangerous they were. Yet, I almost envied the girl. When I was sixteen, my mom wasn’t that cool and accepting. My mom just avoided my weirdness and pretended that it didn’t exist. Lol. And all day, I stared at this girl who never looked at me. After the workshop was over, and they left, I gathered my courage and decided to talk to her the next day and ask her what the whole “talking to angels” was about. They never came back and I never saw them again.

Real angels don’t need help from people. If they couldn’t do their job without us, then they wouldn’t be angels because angels are greater and more powerful than us. But, a Watcher, a fallen, would have people believe that they are needed, that they are special. Everyone wants to feel needed. Everyone wants to be special. And they prey on that human desire. Everyone wants to be wanted.

I met a woman by the name of Dr. Morgan. Whether she was a real doctor or not was another story. I saw her reading something about the angel Metatron so I asked her what her interest in angels was. She proceeded to tell me that she was Jewish (as Metatron actually isn’t an angel in the Holy Bible) and that God gave her a gift to heal people.

Now, as amazing as it is to be able to heal people, I had to ask, “how do you do it?” And she tells me that she will be walking down the street and she’ll see someone and she’ll point and say, “you have so-and-so disease/cancer/health problem. You have to take this and this and it’ll heal you.” Those people she points to do have so-and-so disease/cancer/health problem. They follow her directions and they are healed. They come back thanking her for helping to save their lives.

And as incredible as that sounds, I’m still the crazy idiot who have to make people think for themselves. So I say, “how do you know that you just didn’t really curse people with so-and-so disease/cancer/health problem and then cure them because you cursed them in the first place?” Her answer was simple. “Because God gave me this gift to heal, not to curse.”

So I said, “what if the power you are using isn’t from God, but from another source. How could you tell the difference?” She gets angry and declares, “because I’m helping people!”

And I nod and said, “yes, but in order to help those people, you first pointed at random and told them they had something which only you can cure. If you never told them and they never met you, would they still end up sick or would they have gone about their lives never being sick?” Oh, she got angry. “My gift to heal is from God and I know it!” is what she said.

“But do you really?” I asked. “How do you tell someone who’s never known God how to know that it’s God speaking to them or helping them and so on? Couldn’t I just come along and pretend that I’m God and they wouldn’t know the difference? How are you so sure?” Her last answer was, “because I know” and she didn’t speak to me for a while. My point was–how do you know if it’s God or not?

A little old church lady, Miss Addie, once told me that in order to know God, you had to study and learn about Him from the Bible. “It’s the same as counterfeiting bills,” she said. ” There are too many fake bills to know which is real. So in order to tell the real bill from the fake, the people study the real bill so much that they can spot a fake immediately.” And while that’s true and relateable to Christians in the United States where the Bible is widely spread freely, what about people in other countries? What about someone who don’t know God and has never known Him?

It’s amazing how much Christian literature I read and how much of it reads exactly like all the pagan and occultic books I’ve read when I was much younger. While it’s amazing that someone cries out to Jesus and Jesus immediately stands in their bedroom and they become saved…with my experiences and my knowledge, I’d be very wary if that was Jesus or if it was something else pretending to be Him.

After all, Jesus isn’t on earth. He’s not here. And He’s not going to pop up to save anyone. Scripture tells us so. (Look up John 16:7, Mark 16:19, Acts 7:55-56, Romans 8:34, Colossians 3:1, Hebrews 10:12, 12:2, 1 Peter 3:22; also look up 1 Corithians 1:7, 1 Thessalonians 2:19, 3:13, 5:23, 2 Thessalonians 2:1, 2 Peter 1:16)

While it seems unprofitable for demons to “save” people and convert them to Christianity, I question why such things happen and why it would be demonic and not of God. It’s a good thing that people are converted and accepts Christ, right? For a Christian, I’m terrible at my work. I’m terrible at believing. Why couldn’t I just believe that that sixteen year old really spoke to angels or that Dr. Morgan actually has a gift of healing from God? Why couldn’t I believe that the deceased spirit of my cousin who possessed his sister and told his family to go get saved and become Christians as something coming from God? What is wrong with saving people? Isn’t the whole point to convert and save others?

Many Christians will go to hell. I’m sure they’ll be surprised when it happens. Being saved isn’t an automatic ticket to heaven. Most will disagree with me here. Go back and read about the parable of the ten virgins in the Bible (Matthew 25:1-13). Please have understanding. Christians can’t do what they want to do and think that being saved actually saves them to a Just and Holy God who does indeed deal out justice. That is why being a Christian means being ready to die/leave at any moment when Jesus returns. There are many reasons why a lot of Christians will go to hell. Ignorance, mostly. Compromisation of their faith. Absolute rebellion and disobedience. The list goes on and on.

Stop oppressing my faith!” Christians say. “It’s God and I know it.” And then they call me a witch, not knowing I’m a Christian.

Stop being blind and ignorant,” I say. Most Christians don’t even know anything about their beliefs. Faith isn’t blind. That’s something people came up with. People come up with the term “blind faith” in regards to how Christians believe in a God they cannot see. (They also say that love is blind too.)

Faith, it is said, in Hebrews 11:1 is quoted as, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (KJV–all italics mine.)

Nowhere does it say that Christians should walk about blindly believing that everything which seems good to people is of God. That’s our mistake–in believing that what we think is good and wonderful has to be from God or of God. I know plenty of people who shout out how horrible God is and questioning how He can do such terrible things if He was such a loving God. And now, that has to say something too. Christians shouldn’t just disregard someone else’s opinion about God as merely an “opinion”.

God in the Bible is depicted as many things, vengeful is one of those things. Romans 12:19 says, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (KJV–all italics mine.) Jealous is another. Exodus 34:14 says, “For thou shalt worship no other god: for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God:” (KJV–all italics mine.) And Nahum 1:2 says, “God is jealous, and the Lord revengeth; the Lord revengeth, and is furious; the Lord will take vengeance on his adversaries, and he reserveth wrath for his enemies.” (KJV–all italics mine.)

I can keep quoting scripture, but that’s not the point. The point is that our knowledge and our wisdom isn’t sufficient to God’s. So how can we say that because something we perceived as good happened, that it came from God? Earlier, I said that, “Most demons are in fact, rather useful, rather truthful (to an extent for their own benefits), and rather nice. Yeah, I said it. They’re rather nice as in character wise kindness. After all, being mean and evil and murderous isn’t exactly a popular decision if their main purpose isn’t to kill, but to damn forever so they wouldn’t be alone when all that wonderful Judgement Day thing comes.” And I still stick by what I’ve said.

It surprises me how much people don’t want to know the truth. It’s like Cypher said in The Matrix, “If you’d told us the truth, we would’ve told you to shove that red pill right up your ass.” And that’s how people feel about it. Ignorance is bliss, but to how far will someone pretend and keep pretending that everything’s okay?

I don’t know. This isn’t my fight. I can’t save anyone. I can yell at the top of my lungs until I’m blue in the face, but most people won’t listen and those who will, will only disregard what I say for their own truths. I mean, I get it. I understand. Demonico is incredible and Angelus is amazing and Xyr, well, I haven’t tested him out yet, but he’s proven interesting being the only strangely blue thing I’ve seen (aside from Shaar who is blue, but a different kind)–I understand the entire fascination with all of it. And power? Yeah, you’re talking mega watts of power. Angelus can fry people on the other side of the planet. And Demonico can travel worlds and conquer them. I don’t know what Xyr is capable of yet, but having the ArchDuke as a vassal is pretty impressive. So I totally understand why people would rather choose what they have (or think they have) and not care about their future or their soul or anything else. I’m there with all of you. I completely understand and relate.

And yet, it’s so unhappy, isn’t it? Most of us are alone. Most of us are misunderstood. Most of us hurt and hurt deeply. And it’s sad. It’s so incredibly sad. We’re all so unhappy. Power can’t compare to love. And all the Watchers and all the Guardians and all the Fallen in all the worlds cannot ever fill up that empty hole inside of you.

That is truth. And many of us know it. Many of us deny it. Many of us try to hide it. But it’s still there. Emptiness. Loneliness. We try to fill it with so many things: knowledge, power, sex…it’s just not the same.

 

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The Lesser of Two Evils

Mankind has been dealing with morality for as long as we can remember. Is it right to cause someone the same exact pain they’ve caused us? Is it right to tell a lie if it protects someone else? Is this right? Is that right? Our concepts of right and wrong have been greatly flawed, comparing two evils most of the time and choosing what we believe is the lesser one. So what is right?

The road to hell is paved with good intentions” and “No good deed goes unpunished” are two widely known sayings that expresses our inability to grasp the understanding that our own morality is erred. Our perceptions and perspectives are colored by our experiences and our knowledge. Without an actual unbiased outside view of the entire picture and the knowledge and understanding of what the purpose is of such an event or circumstance, we only see in part. We only know in part. We, as human beings, will forever be fallible for our lack of omniscience.

The fact that we have moral implications at all describes an intelligent creature who has the ability to consider the impact of his/her actions/inactions and of the overall contribution(s) that we can inflict upon the future of not only our own selves, but on others and the world as a whole. Because we are capable of such distinctions as to the concepts of good and bad, we should have some sort of absolute moral code as a species, but why is it that our moral code exists only for ourselves and our self-righteousness?

Trust is something needed to build the base of any and all relationships. Yet, how much information do we each require from someone else as our “right to know”? And why is it that we feel such an importance in someone being honest with us by detailing specific parts of their lives with us when we have no intentions of offering up any sort of recompense of trust in return?

I talk about my life often. And everything I write has to do with my life in one form or another. It’s all me: the good, the bad, the ugly, the crazy, the super freakishly crazy, etc, etc. I’m human. I’ve made mistakes. And I don’t care to hide any of it because people will always do one of two things: they will accept you, or they will not accept you. And for all those who don’t accept me for all and everything that I am–you can always leave. I’m not short of friends in any way that I would be desperate to cling on to anyone who expects me to accept them, but can’t even repay the small favor. With that being said, I actually do offer a lot more information to people than what they really should know anyhow. I see no point in hiding things. It’s always easier to tell others exactly how it is so they won’t be surprised later on–or they won’t pretend to be surprised.

I am always thinking, always looking back, always wondering if I could’ve done something differently to help myself and someone else. I always try to believe in the hope for humanity, even when I know it’s hard to be found. And I will always talk about my friends and the people who are important to me. I do less talking of people that don’t matter and I have a difficult time letting go because I don’t believe that it’s right to just give up on others so easily. When I am frustrated, I often talk about my frustrations without specifically naming names. Just because something is past doesn’t mean that it hurts less or affects us less. And just because I speak about something doesn’t mean it has anything to do with that person in particular. It’s more to deal with the thought processes behind such circumstances and events. Most people won’t even look that far down, but it’s difficult for me to not analyze since I’m one of those crazy thinkers.

The lesser of two evils, right?

I was looking at movie trailers on YouTube today to try and figure out something to watch. I looked up Eden and doing a Google search, have found that the woman who inspired the movie and whose story was being depicted for everyone to see–the survivor of a sex-trafficking ring in the United States–is false. Not only that, but another highly profiled woman who is described in NewsWeek as the “holy saint (and sinner) of sex trafficking”, has resigned from her own non-profit organization which is reportedly helping to free children in Cambodia from the sex slave rings. What is interesting about these two women are that they have indeed done some sort of actual help in raising awareness and providing some sort of support and relief for other women, even if their stories were false and the stories of their “survivors” were also fabricated along with straight up lies to further their non-profit corporations and themselves. Does what little good that these women did get hidden by the fact that they shammed the whole world? We are all people, and I can’t begin to judge anyone for the mistakes that they’ve made, but it’s an interesting read on how the human itself will always strive to further itself along in whichever manner that benefits it. I’m sure that sentence is difficult to understand. In simpler terms, it’s interesting as to how far people–as individuals and as a whole–will strive for what they believe is right and good as long as it benefits themselves.

A closer example to home which was very recent: I spent five years in prison for aggravated identity theft and possession of credit card numbers. Anyone can look that up. Anyone can read what my judgment records from court states and pretty much any document relating to that. Someone can pull up my entire life in records and public documents and such things if they’d like. And then, they can all also make their judgments and say their two cents on my past and the mistakes I’ve made. I don’t care. It’s past. If anyone wanted to know why I actually went to prison, all they had to do was ask. Lying gets on my nerves because I don’t remember enough to lie.

Anyhow, the point is–if you’re my friend for let’s say…a number of years (like over a decade) and we’re good friends, then I offer the information to you anyway because one–it explains my disappearance for the past five years, and two–I believe you have a right to know. If you asked for details, I’d tell you details. If I told you specifically what my charges were, then why would I hide anything else? It makes no sense to me.

A used-to-be good friend of mine that I’ve known for the past almost fifteen years, said recently that he backed off from our friendship because he didn’t trust me anymore. He looked me up and linked the newspaper (yes, I’m in the newspapers from back in 2008 so go look it up) and gave me the link. I replied with, “I already told you that” about what my charges were and how long I was in prison. And he actually said, in his words, I quote: “Yes you did inform me of that. What you left out was the amount that you did. That’s where the trust issue comes into play.

Really?

The entire conversation was absurd in my opinion. I had just agreed on him being right that we should amicably part ways in our friendship and he wants to pull this self-righteous bs on me all of sudden because why?

My reply included: “Trust isn’t about, “I’ve got to share every detail of what I did wrong with you because we’re friends while you don’t offer me ANY information about your life at all”. Trust is a two-way street.” And “By the way, my entire restitution was $175.00 You don’t have to believe that. No one did anyways. But you can look it up all you like. It’s in my judgement papers from court. THAT’S how much I did.

I didn’t even bring up how his particular person threatened to find my probation officer (I’m on probation for three years) so he could try to get me into trouble by telling the PO that I was “harassing” him and also threatened to press harassment charges for my emails of which there was only two, neither one was aggravated in any way, and the last one said specifically these words and nothing more, “I hope you have a good life and whatever is your problem, I hope you figure it out and fix it. This is the last time you will hear from me. Thanks for being a good friend when you were one. Take care.

I didn’t bring up all his faults (and he had many) or the mistakes he’s made in his life. Yet, I find it ironic that he wants to be self-righteous and hypocritical on the whole, “I can’t trust you because you told me you were in prison and what for and how long, but you didn’t tell me all the details about what you did wrong.” Yet, all I got from him about the missing five year gap in our friendship was, and I quote, “I have started a new chapter in my life. Not many people will like what I have become.

Really? That’s it?

Like I said, trust is a two-way street. My life is an open book. I generally offer more information than people would care to know. I don’t expect people to be that open about their lives. But I also don’t expect the self-entitlement most people feel they have a right to know about my life that has nothing to do with them in any way, shape, or form. Anyone can ask. Don’t expect me to be kind in reply when you believe you have a right to knowledge I am offering because we’re friends.

It still astounds me. Not only him in particular and his selfish behavior, but in humanity as a whole. What is the lesser of two evils? The fact that I spent time in prison? Or the fact that it’s easier to always see another’s faults instead of our own?

And by the way, if I’m such a hardened criminal and you’re a bad-ass who threatened me–don’t be a coward later on and claim to have your Facebook and email “hacked” and claim you said none of the things that you said to me. Although I learned long ago that I’d rather let God handle all the crappy people and payback, at least own up to what you did say and have some balls to stand up and either admit you’re wrong, or continue to believe your wrong as right. I’d at least respect someone much more if they had the guts to stand behind their words.

We, as human beings, are so damn judgmental of other people. We feel entitled to their lives and all their failures and mistakes, yet, we defend ourselves with excuses and anger when anyone wants to know about our life, let alone what we did wrong in our lives. I don’t understand the trending culture with, “let’s just proclaim everyone going to hell, but we’re going to heaven” ploy. Does it make people feel better about themselves to put others down? Does it make people feel more of a sense of self-worth to know that someone else is doing horribly? Does controlling someone else brings us happiness? We are such backward creatures!

I guess it’s normal. I have plenty of excuses for people who are horrible to me, but I really want them to be better people so I stick around, trying to see them become, in my opinion, a better person to me. In reality, it’s really shame on me because I’ve compromised myself to believe in something that doesn’t exist that I knew didn’t exist.

A friend of mine, supposedly my best friend from when we were young, mooched off of me for a few years and although everyone else saw it and knew it, I defended her and didn’t believe anyone, making excuses for her because she was my best friend. She didn’t work. Didn’t drive. Didn’t own a car. Didn’t have a phone. I did everything in that friendship.  I bought her a cell phone so we could talk. I picked her up and her friends and took them everywhere. Paid every time with no hesitation whenever we went to eat out or to the movies (which was very often). I’d always call. In the two years that I paid for the service on her phone, she probably called me no more than ten times without having to repeatedly be asked by me to do so. She had no money and never even offered to contribute five dollars for gas our entire friendship, but she always found enough money to buy weed, cigarettes, and alcohol daily. We were both sick like hell this one time and I couldn’t even see straight, but she had no food so I drove to the store, bought lots of cans of soup, went to her house, and cooked us soup so we’d feel better. And she didn’t live close to me. She lived 45 minutes away. She’d ask me to come over at a certain time and when I did, she was 98% of the time not there! I’d wait in her grandmother’s house for hours and eventually, I’d leave because I’d have no idea when she was coming back. I believed in the good in her. She believes that I stayed because of the Otherworld–a place she dreams of that I can jointly enter while awake. If I wanted supernatural crazy power things from people, I wouldn’t care enough about them to do anything for them. I tried my best to be a good friend. All those years, were shame on me too.

I wonder sometimes, how people can just think of themselves. Life would be blissfully ignorant without this over-analyzing thinking thing that I do and I’ve always done it my whole life. Ponder, ponder. See how the human being tinkers and works. My life is already so complicated without the legal stuff on top of it, that I find it weird how some people can just stalk others or how some people can play endless mind games with others. My head will explode. There’s already too much going on in there, up there, that I really don’t have a lot of time for family, friends, and people in general.

Maybe if we all looked inside of ourselves and tried to be better people than we were yesterday, the world would be a better place. And maybe stop with the judging and having to be more right than someone else. I do it a lot–mainly when it comes to magic. I’m just the most arrogant person you’d meet on that topic. I don’t go foolishly challenging people to spiritual warfare. I can simply back up what I claim. A small difference in a way.

All in all, if we, as people, stop focusing so much on others and their faults and wanting to live like the people next door, maybe we can work with ourselves, inside ourselves, and realize that the best option isn’t choosing the lesser of two evils. The solution is to not choose evil at all.

(This post has gone off topic often. The cognizance of each individual human being is spectacular. It varies from person to person and no two are actually alike in thoughts, brain waves, patterns, behaviors, beliefs, etc. If I had more time, I’d be a scientist.)

 
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Posted by on June 15, 2014 in Diary

 

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The Turning Vampire Series Origins, Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga, and God in the Midst of It

Today, I want to talk a bit about my books, The Turning vampire series, about Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga, a bit about how God is involved, and I want to answer some of the comments made by readers who’ve read The Turning.

I wrote The Turning vampire series back in 2009 when I had a lot of free time and there was all the hype about Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight books. I read Twilight and I liked it. I read New Moon and it was okay. At the end, when the perspectives changed from Bella to Jacob, I totally got lost and didn’t like it at all. I scanned through Eclipse and the humungous end book, Breaking Dawn, but I didn’t read them thoroughly as I did the first book. I actually stopped reading halfway through Eclipse. I didn’t understand why there needed to be a change in perspectives. For two whole books, the point of view had always been Bella’s in first person. Why change it now? Jacob was in Twilight. Why not had his point of view inserted from the beginning? And Jacob isn’t even the “hero” of the book. Bella’s the damsel in distress and Edward is supposed to be the hero, so why not had Edward’s point of view instead? It was all too confusing. And from there, I wanted to read a vampire series that was better than Twilight. Since I couldn’t find one, I created my own.

The Turning vampire series isn’t Twilight fan fiction. It’s not based on the unrealistic world of Twilight and their sparkly vampires. No. It’s better in many ways that Twilight can’t even touch on. I started out wanting to write something better, and what I ended up with was a world where characters wrote their own stories and taught me lessons on life and love and on being human.

Marisa starts out a bit like Bella, because my idea was that I could have a main character like Bella, but only so much better. I was horribly arrogant at the time that I wrote The Turning and I have to say that I didn’t really create Marisa–she created herself. I made her shy and awkward, but she quickly taught me that she wasn’t Bella and she was her own person. She wasn’t afraid of life. She was afraid of being alone, like she always had been. And that loneliness was the only thing that made her shy and awkward. If not for that, she would’ve found a way to conquer the world without being a vampire.

The Turning vampire series spans a total of ten books written between 2009 and 2012. The first four books were written in one month, each 300+ page book taking a total of a week to write longhand because all I did was eat, sleep for a few hours, and write all day, every day. My first drafts were insane. When I get really excited, I write very, very super tiny. The most I can fit into one regular ruled line on notebook paper is nine lines–nine sentences! (I will scan and upload an image of my longhand writing for everyone to see! Below, is a different story I wrote on unlined paper. It is 246 lines on regular 8 1/2″ by 11″ printer paper. And yes, I can read my own handwriting, even something that small. ^_^ )

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It was incredible to have written these books. I couldn’t have done it on my own. And I credited God to actually being the one who wrote the series. Most Christians tell me that God doesn’t write vampire novels. And I tell them that they underestimate the power of God. He created everything. Vampire novels are not more powerful than God that He can’t write them. I am a Christian. And although unexpected, The Turning vampire series does have remnants of Christianity inserted into them. It’s not intentional. I don’t categorize the series as being Christian and I don’t market it as a Christian romance novel. (It’s actually more erotica once you hit the second novel. And apparently, sex is taboo for Christians because you will not find Christian erotica anywhere! *lol* ^_^ )

The books were not meant to be categorized into something that makes people read them and find it an ideal way to believe, or worse, to worship them. I don’t have better words at the moment to express my feelings. I think they can be summed up in the underlying theme of the series and of how The Turning vampire novels taught me what humanity is like through the eyes of monsters: we all have great evil in us and we all will fail at one point in time or another to that darkness, but what makes us human is the ability to overcome that, in even the smallest measurement of simply living and continuing to live in love with ourselves and with each other.

I’m sure many people don’t understand that sentence, as I’m not totally sure I understand all of it myself, but The Turning vampire series is a story, a world I was blessed to see and capture in words to share. If people can learn something from the novels that helps them better themselves and their lives, then I’m happy for that. But, the novels themselves are not something that people should look towards to find God in because there’s only one book where we can find Him: the Bible. I don’t want people to misunderstand the reasons of me saying that God wrote the vampire books because He did, but people should not worship a creation instead of the Creator. It is wrong.

Back to my novels. ^_^

Whereas Twilight taught young girls and women how important it was to have a boyfriend and do everything for him, The Turning taught people how important it was to have a family and to protect them.

Marisa lost her parents in a horrible car accident where she almost died too. In a flash, her whole world changed. Although her relationship with her parents were by no means the Brady bunch, she’s a young girl who has some issues of her own like any other normal teenager. And what she wanted most wasn’t a boyfriend, but a family and a place where she belonged.

When she met the Arromanovokzjas, the vampire brothers, she wasn’t some human who mysteriously won the vampire lotto for being picked to fall in love with instead of becoming food–she was a vampire, but one not yet turned. Their interest in her wasn’t that she needed someone to save her from her miserable, boring, mundane life, but that she could become a threat at any time to the humans in the town where they lived. A vampire’s turning was considered a most dangerous event in which the one who is being turned is potentially more dangerous than the ones already turned. Their interest in her was to keep the town safe and to keep her from killing everyone, at the risk of their own lives. Every vampire’s turning is different with two things in common: death and blood, and Marisa’s turning was going to be no exception. But knowing that she had no one else alive and no idea of the life she was going to have to lead, they made the decision to save a whole town for the greater good by asking her to join them so they can watch over her turning.

Marisa is by no means the helpless damsel in distress. Impatient for someone to save her, she does most things by herself, even if she ends up making things much worse than they were before. But no matter how many times she’s fallen and she’s given up, she gets back up and she fights. She doesn’t fight to save Alessander, the oldest, whom she loves. She fights to keep the new family that she became a part of. The only reason why Marisa even considered romantic love was because love was the only bond stronger than the bond formed between a vampire and their Maker, the one who turned them. And in order for the vampire who left her for dead to believe that she is dead, she had to form a bond strong enough to not call her Maker to her.

One of the things that I didn’t like about Twilight was how it approached the subject matter of love. It is a romance novel and I’ve actually read more than enough romance novels who do this same exact thing–they teach people that love is an automatic feeling between two people who don’t even know each other. Love is far from that.

Marisa doesn’t automatically fall irrevocably in love with a vampire because he’s so mysterious and he ignores her like how Bella fell in love with Edward, which makes no sense at all because he totally ignored her and Bella became a crazy stalker who gets kind of creepy and waits for him even when he doesn’t show up at school. That’s not love. That’s obsession. It’s unhealthy. It’s ridiculous to teach girls that it’s okay to throw yourself at a guy who doesn’t want you, even if deep down inside, he really does but he doesn’t show it. That’s like telling people in abusive relationships that it’s okay to stay and be abused because their significant other really loves them. That is the worse thing to teach girls and women and it’s sad that many, many romance novels repeat this theme over and over again. That is not love. And it is not an okay way to treat people, men and women alike.

Marisa made a choice to fall in love and that choice was to save them all from a threat bigger than a turning–the Streigos. (The Streigos are a different type of vampire that have actual gargoyle like bodies and wings. They’re what vampires call “monsters”.) She doesn’t take a look at Alessander and thinks he’s sexy so she wants to be with him. No. That’s ridiculous. She doesn’t even know him!

Alessander taught Marisa about love and boundaries, something that many people need to know about. She needed a way to stop the automatic linking between her and the Streigos who killed her first family to stop him from killing the new family that she now had. And romantic love in all its awesomeness was something stronger than that link. She chose to love Alessander, albeit, she’s a bit wrong in her approach because she doesn’t think things through, but she made the choice after considering all three of her brothers–Alessander, Demetri, and Ra’vin. She didn’t blindly fall in love, she considered her options and chose what was best for her and her family.

Love doesn’t work for most people because people have an unrealistic expectation of what love is. That unrealistic expectation is that there’s an automatic attraction and feeling that will last them through decades of marriage. Love isn’t a feeling. Love is a choice. We choose to love someone. And that choice is what carries us through decades of commitment and honor and working together on a relationship.

One of the things that my readers have commented on was the dynamics of the switch in personalities between Alessander and Demetri. One moment, either one of them can be dark and brooding and the next moment, either one of them can be happy and nice. It was commented that their personalities mixed in too much with each other and they didn’t distinguish themselves as being one-dimensional (either dark and brooding or friendly and happy for example).

Granted, Demetri made the attempt to be nice to Marisa which led him to actually getting to know her. In letting down his walls, he became a better person towards her. But, in defense of Alessander and Demetri and their changing characteristics, I honestly don’t know a single person that is one-dimensional. I’ve never met or known a single person who is so miserable all of the time that everything around them dripped in the excruciating pain of their misery. Or I’ve never met and known a single person who was happy and cheerful all of the time despite how horrible their circumstances may be. Real people are not one-dimensional characters. They have weaknesses and flaws and the Arromanovokzjas are no exception. Their personalities are multifaceted and they have weaknesses and flaws as well.

Ra’vin isn’t even happy all of the time. His personality is only stable because he’s young and Alessander made that known to Marisa when they made the choice to watch over her turning. He specifically told her the reason why Ra’vin was the way that he was–optimistic and hopeful, and it was because while Ra’vin hopes in a future that is bright, Alessander and Demetri have lived and seen human suffering and seen wars and death and blood and they know the truth that hope is a luxury for the young who can afford it because they have not yet suffered the truth of the reality that life is not always kind. And that is the reason why Ra’vin is hopeful and optimistic and almost childlike in his ways. Alessander and Demetri have shielded him from both the vampire world and the human world so what he knows is limited to their love and protection of him.

I also understand that there is confusion where Marisa has the hallucinations that look like Alessander and Demetri, but they aren’t her brothers. The Turning vampire series was all written in first person through Marisa’s point of view. It was written in a specific way so that the reader understands what she understands. With that being said, she doesn’t understand why these things are happening to her. She doesn’t understand how she learned how to stop time if the real Alessander and Demetri didn’t teach her that. The hallucinations play a pretty big role in the story and their roles will be revealed later on as Marisa progresses in her life’s journey. As she comes to understand their meaning and why they’re there with her, the reader then also understands and can look back and connect to all the times that things were confusing and can see how all of it makes perfect sense.

I want to say that I am not smart enough to link something in the first novel, The Turning, to something two or three books down the series because I really would’ve forgotten about it by then. My memory is terrible.

Spoiler alert: there’s one sentence that Marisa comments to Mrs. Brukenheimer during her enrollment at school that I overlooked and didn’t realize had any meaning at all until around the sixth novel being written where it mentions the significance of that one sentence. When asked if Marisa had any family, she commented that her grandparents have died on both sides of the family and she was an only child. She remarked that she had an aunt Margaret who is somewhere in Africa, trying to convert the local natives to Christianity and she’s never seen or heard from this aunt since she was born. Margaret shows up somewhere around maybe book five (Knotted Remains)? I’m not sure, but she’s definitely in the sixth novel (Shadow War–coming soon although I’m typing up the fourth one, Loose Ends, into the computer now). When Marisa made that comment and I wrote it down, I was unaware of the importance of what she she said. I presumed it was just some casual way of trying to not get in trouble while wanting to get her high school diploma, but there were forces at work that day to initiate and prepare a remarkable story that I didn’t even know about when I started writing the novels.

I’m revealing this spoiler because I honestly cannot take credit for the incredible world of vampires in this series. I started writing with the intention of creating something I wanted to read, and instead, I was given the opportunity to see a world and to chronicle it not only for myself, but for others to enjoy too. In the end, everything will make sense and for all the people who’ve read The Turning and might’ve been confused as to Marisa’s kind of schizo personality and hallucinations, the end takes everything from the beginning and shows the reader exactly why things happened and for what reasons they happened. The series has a complete ending and I didn’t know that when I was writing the books. I actually wrote, not knowing where the stories were heading or if there was any meaning to anything or an explanation to it all. I was pleasantly surprised that at the very end of it all, everything came together and connected and it all made sense. All my questions (conscious and unconscious) were answered. Not that I’m telling everyone they have to read all ten books to understand what’s going on, but like in life when we don’t understand something, with time, we may come to an understanding of that something once not understood. I’m sure I didn’t make sense there at all! ^_^

Everything that happens in the novels have significance and meaning. I didn’t know that when I wrote them down. The reader doesn’t get to see parts of any of the characters’ past to fill up space and stretch the books to almost 400 hundred pages for no reason. Everything that Marisa learns about her brothers, the vampires, the Nosferatu, the intruders–Heidrick, Anastasia, and Vasila, her new parents–Lillian and Maxwell, the memories of her own past, all have meaning and connections that I didn’t see or think about when I wrote the stories. And all these connections and all these things that makes sense many books later on and ties everything into what I believe is pretty much one big epic fantasy story, is the reason why I believe I truly had help writing this series. I couldn’t have done it without God so my thanks is always to Him first. He is really the one who wrote these books. It wouldn’t have been possible without Him.

It was an incredible pleasure for me to write The Turning vampire series. This isn’t because I’m some awesome author who will be the next famous multimillionaire when people discover how great my novels are, but it’s because I take great joy in these books that has taught me about myself and about many things in life. I really love the characters and their stories and the greatest joy that I have in publishing the series is to share Marisa and her brothers and my love for them with the entire world. That is what makes me happy, that Marisa’s story is told and that people love something that I love as much as I love it. ^_^

Thank you to all the people who read this incredibly long post. And to everyone who has read The Turning or books two and three in the series, Blood Lust and Masquerade, I am proud to share this incredible story and this amazing world with you. Thank you for taking the time to join Marisa and her brothers on their journeys.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HBKIPUY/

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IS9MXN2/

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JO16LUY/

 
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Posted by on May 12, 2014 in Book Reviews

 

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