30th November, St Andrews Day (Scotland) All Day
Its been easy to not look directly at it. Plenty things on the calander to distract and hide it all behind. There has been attemps to reach up to the front of house to try draw attention to it. Whatever it was that would veto that wasnt something not many of us could consider challenging and whatever it was is gone now. There is no definite need to keep it at arms length anymore. It's the kind of thing we had to be confident was so buried that no amount of gloating or more active attempts to trigger the memories and feelings would fly over our head so we could stand firm and just look them in the eye and let them all see whatever they were attempting was not having the desired effected. The opposite even because so many of us know what they are doing and know what we are doing to defend from it and are very certain there is no way any of them can get round it. It gets quite therapeutic watching them getting more and more desperate sometimes.
But then we went back to how it was. That it might not be true and if we don't know, we don't know so nothing can be done. It's about the boy, our boy, the 'why isn't he here' boy, family, best friend, lover, soul mate, other half, reason for caring, for living. Early/mid nineties we were both captured and kept drugged, restrained, injured. So drug was given to me so I would wake up and found myself covered in chopped up parts of Paul. His head positioned so I could clearly see the his face, his dead eyes. In the bedroom before the blue wallpaper was put up. Then I was taken through the room that decades later would be mine and Pablo's and raped. Nothing and no one has been be real since.
We have a sense it was mainly a 'Scots only' op. They could get past their various handlers when motivated and severe sadism is all that ever motivated them. Although I don't think that Scots believing they were working alone means that it was true and big chunks of us reckon it is completely impossible for the Scots to organise anything alone. Just because they can't remember Russian, American, English and other accents giving them detailed instructions doesn't mean that isn't exactly how it went down.
We found a grey hair recently and pulled it out and looked at it. It came with the same flashbacks of having seeing it decades before, the same oh yeah we knew this would happen that accompanies so much of our experiences. I regular reminder of how ancient and deep the bullshit is and how it has stolen almost all our choices and of course how utterly alone we are.
But then we went back to how it was. That it might not be true and if we don't know, we don't know so nothing can be done. It's about the boy, our boy, the 'why isn't he here' boy, family, best friend, lover, soul mate, other half, reason for caring, for living. Early/mid nineties we were both captured and kept drugged, restrained, injured. So drug was given to me so I would wake up and found myself covered in chopped up parts of Paul. His head positioned so I could clearly see the his face, his dead eyes. In the bedroom before the blue wallpaper was put up. Then I was taken through the room that decades later would be mine and Pablo's and raped. Nothing and no one has been be real since.
We have a sense it was mainly a 'Scots only' op. They could get past their various handlers when motivated and severe sadism is all that ever motivated them. Although I don't think that Scots believing they were working alone means that it was true and big chunks of us reckon it is completely impossible for the Scots to organise anything alone. Just because they can't remember Russian, American, English and other accents giving them detailed instructions doesn't mean that isn't exactly how it went down.
We found a grey hair recently and pulled it out and looked at it. It came with the same flashbacks of having seeing it decades before, the same oh yeah we knew this would happen that accompanies so much of our experiences. I regular reminder of how ancient and deep the bullshit is and how it has stolen almost all our choices and of course how utterly alone we are.
