Growing: Part Two.
Every time I arrive somewhere or fought to leave a location, it has been through the hope that I could find somewhere where I felt I had never been before but in agonuy, drugged, terrisfied or just not me. Hoping that I could find somewhere without that crippyling oppressive atmosphere. It gave me a sense of worth. It was a horrible feeling that hit me everywhere I am sometimes. A strange painful sense that I've been here before even if the images, flashes of body memories and the like seemed to be about something positive. It couldn't of been me because I couldn't laugh like that. Mostly though pains where sharp and the memories increasingly sequencial. I never knew if I was reacting to the place where I was, the place I had been or the places I was going.
There was a group when I lived in Aberdeenshire ran mainly by young Scottish men and women in their early twenties and thirties from families who were known to have criminal connections. The aim seemed to be to worship Satan by following every and any calender because causing hell was always going to give power to whoever was inflicting the tortures and humiliations, psychological abuse or whatever. Lots of ritualistic rape timed around women's ovulation dates. Power struggles over me when my eggs and flesh was popular. Lots of unritual 'straight' rape outside of rituals and group settings. In the home, the workplace or school when the group alters had been put to sleep. leaving mindset that thought nothing bad had really happen. Those rapes hurt so much. The rituals involved lots of semen and anything else they could think of and as many ways as the time allowed. The biological father was the Master of Ceremonies of the products of the pregnancy and whatever happened to me as long as the foetus was part of me and immediately after birth. It gave them power, encouraged competition between men and physical stamina and mental vulnerability and social exclusion for women.
I am remembering more. One of the scariest things is knowing that no matter how effects me I will be hell bent on knowing more. It worries me than one day it will take on too much momentum and I will loose control. Again.
Why are you in here reading this when you could be out in the sunshine. It's later than you think.
We are beautiful. Scary but also beautiful..
There was a group when I lived in Aberdeenshire ran mainly by young Scottish men and women in their early twenties and thirties from families who were known to have criminal connections. The aim seemed to be to worship Satan by following every and any calender because causing hell was always going to give power to whoever was inflicting the tortures and humiliations, psychological abuse or whatever. Lots of ritualistic rape timed around women's ovulation dates. Power struggles over me when my eggs and flesh was popular. Lots of unritual 'straight' rape outside of rituals and group settings. In the home, the workplace or school when the group alters had been put to sleep. leaving mindset that thought nothing bad had really happen. Those rapes hurt so much. The rituals involved lots of semen and anything else they could think of and as many ways as the time allowed. The biological father was the Master of Ceremonies of the products of the pregnancy and whatever happened to me as long as the foetus was part of me and immediately after birth. It gave them power, encouraged competition between men and physical stamina and mental vulnerability and social exclusion for women.
I am remembering more. One of the scariest things is knowing that no matter how effects me I will be hell bent on knowing more. It worries me than one day it will take on too much momentum and I will loose control. Again.
Why are you in here reading this when you could be out in the sunshine. It's later than you think.
We are beautiful. Scary but also beautiful..
