Saturday, January 24, 2015

Trust Much?

Life is strange, you can know people and never really know them. They can stand in front of you and communicate nothing to you.

Hell, I am an expert at this. I rarely volunteer personal information to anyone. The internet knows more about my internal dialogue than most people I know irl. I am not going to say it's because most people are to stuck in their head to ask.

It's me. I am (at best) odd and have been since I was a small child. I can remember being six and I just decided that all of reality, everything I saw was part of a movie. I was terrified, shit terrified that at any moment the director would yell cut and I would find out the truth. I carried this around, never told anybody about it, until now.

You may get a little glimpse here and there but I edit myself. I make sure that what I am saying matches you in some way and betrays nothing about me. Nothing embarrassing or overly revealing will ever pass my lips.

People use the term "in the closet" A LOT. Why? Large portions of my life live in the dark. My sex life, my fantasies, my fears, my worst memories, all sit in the dark. I like that there are parts of me nobody will ever know, I don't want anyone to.

I recently had a discussion with a slave (M/s, look it up. I can't be assed)  and she kept talking about how important full transparency was in her relationship. This guy knows when she shits, every bite of food she eats, fucking EVERYTHING. It was like talking to an alien, something from a distant planet telling me why their way is better.

She seemed happy, content, and madly in love. The kind of love that makes the back of my throat hurt and my eyes stingy. I am this closed off, neurotic mess, who is always looking for the knife to pass between my ribs.
In that conversation I GOT IT, I saw it in front of my own eyes. That's love, that's the thing everyone is supposed to want. That one person you will allow to crawl in your mind and see everything.

I have issues with this realization. The first being this means I have loved once in my life and he hurt me over and over again. He used the private, personal shit against me.

The second realization was I don't think I can do it. There are some great guys out there (I am seeing one now) but I don't feel like I can tell him everything, I have a hard time telling him I am sick or tired.

The third realization: This is a big line for me. It's funny, society has fed me so much and the amount of deprogramming I have done and continue to do is massive. This wasn't given to me by society though, it's a defense mechanism built up by a lifetime of being shit on by people.

It colors every personal relationship I have. I'm there but in body only. I keep my mind to myself. I walk around disconnected. Touching but not feeling, talking but saying nothing, caring but not loving.

I learned to only trust and rely on myself at the expense of a having a single human connection.

That's the essence of this line I found: trust. I don't have any left.

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Nostalgic Rambling

The moment, the exact moment you are sitting in right now. That thing is beautiful as fuck. In an era of instant gratification and instant satisfaction mixed with constant distraction we are all told to stay connected. Check the phone, see what's on FB, tweet something, upload some pics, do, do, do, go, go, go.

Don't you want to stop? I do and I basically have (turns out I like to write be prepared for me on my blog than ever before bwhahahaha).

I have recently been reminded of my teenage years, about twenty years ago to be precise. The internet existed but it wasn't a common part of everyone's lives. I can remember walking around and just talking, no distraction in my hand, just the beautiful moment. Seeing the graffiti and laughing that a motherfucker couldn't spell. Making out in a car to the radio to music that wasn't my insta-favorite and loving hearing something new, something different, something that I never would of heard otherwise.

Backroads and twisting lanes, the smell of someone's breath on my neck because I was the most interesting, the most captivating thing in the world. Nothing compares to that time period, partially because of my big, huge nostalgia glasses but also because I fell in love with a boy who kissed me at a school dance and a passed me a note asking me out. A boy I couldn't recall until about a week ago. Nothing compares to that time period because of who I was. A headstrong independent girl who had her entire life mapped out as carefully as possible and a plan to make every single thing on that list happen.

I guess I was distracted, interested in being everywhere, being connected, not really feeling something, really experiencing something. I forgot a memory that I think I need to hold close to my heart for the rest of my life because of who I am now and remembering who I was will help me solidify who I am becoming. There was a girl in this body once, not jaded or cynical, but in love with life, in love with love and pretty fucking in love with herself.

Not someone who constantly thought, 'It's not good enough.' I do it about everything. The way I look, the way I act, I worry if I am Satanic enough, progressive enough, intelligent enough, loving enough, distant enough. I am allowing some part of my head that grew there a long goddamn time ago to continuously condemn me. To say, 'you are a real fucking cunt, a loser. 35 years old and you STILL aren't a grown up.'

I wanted a life on my own terms and I have it. Can I actually allow myself some joy or pride in that? That I have actually walked the walk and accomplished some shit? Nope, that would mean getting satisfied, not constantly fighting myself, my own laziness and loneliness to have some ephemeral 'more' I have in my head. For me it's not a financial more, it's freedom. I want to be 'more free' than I was before.

At this moment I realize there was a time when I was more free, it was just so long ago I have to squint to see it.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Oh For Fucks Sake, Really?

Warning: slightly hypocritical rant incoming.

I keep seeing the same thing over and over again and I am sick to death of it at this moment. I feel disgusted to be associated (even loosely) with you group of clowns. Over and over again it's Anton LaVey said, Anton LaVey thought, the CoS says blah, blah, blah.

Why the fuck does it matter what any other motherfucker in all of history said about something? How does that summarize the should and should nots of Satanism? Isn't the whole fucking point to develop a world view based on Patheo Mathos? Did I miss the memo where people stopped talking about their opinions and their perspective and started basing every goddamn thought they have on what someone said something is or isn't?

I don't see people evolving or changing, I don't see people's perspectives becoming refined through encountering their own boundaries and surpassing them. I don't see individuals becoming something different. I see parrots, I see puppets and I see the constant and continuous ghost of Satanism past being used as a reasoning for Satanism to be something akin to dressing like an idiot, grouping and having a big ole' collective group think jerk off, and individualism.

Please, please stop the shit already. I want to read what you think about something, maybe a personal anecdote thrown in for good measure. That's about it. I don't want agreement with my perspective, you ain't me, you ain't walked my path and you don't know why I believe the things I believe and what I have done to develop that particular perspective. I don't want to see you jump on some intellectual high horse and tell me that you are better while using all the five dollar words you can.

I just want to see who you are, no fronting, no games, no hiding behind LaVey to back your shit up via proxy. I am tired of seeing solipsism become the new name of the internet game. Just hide behind a buncha people that agree with you and you're suddenly in the right. False idols being propped up by the new black sheeple is the new landscape. I saw a motherfucker QUOTE Thomas Leroy the other day.

The best part I know I am destined to lose when it comes to any long term impact. Any meaningful interpretation of Satanism that exists at this fucking moment will be buried in this new environment. There are more of 'them' then there are of 'us.' Satanism will become vacuous (to late?!?!?) and all that actually presences the darkness will be lost.

It's cool though, hell the best part of Satanism (as I see it anyway) is that it's built for this shit because of its centrally selfish essence. If I learn something it succeeded.

Oh and fuck that fucking statue, seriously.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Let's Talk About It...

So, some shit went down recently. Let's avoid the vague bullshit and get to the meat of it. A bunch of LD's pms were leaked in an email. This was followed by screenshots of SIN being hacked, which is why it's now offline. LD and Cz had some flirty conversation about how huge his dick is (which means it isn't), LD has now run far, far away because facing some heat would be to much for him. There that was easy, wasn't it? Like a motherfucking band-aid being pulled off, it didn't hurt nearly as much as you thought it would.

My speculation on who did all this is as follows: It's obvious. It's not your general devil of the internet. It's the motherfucker who has his name on every goddamn pm that was leaked. Read them, this guy is trying to play every motherfucker he is corresponding with in them. The fact that he disappeared right when the pms and hack to SIN happened makes him look more guilty. Maybe he's just a pussy, but I doubt it. If it isn't him, he's become the target of some group out there, which is hilarious because if he didn't pull off this masterpiece, he's a toothless shark. How is he worth fucking with?

As for SIN, so some asshole likes to set fire to corpses? Worth a lol but not much else. Looking over there before this happened was like watching the retard circus.

When you are on the internet, you are in a place where what seems private isn't. A secret is only as good as you keeping your motherfucking mouth shut. Those friends are not really your friends, in fact they are looking for a weak spot, an exploit they can take advantage of. Every moment vultures are circling. Rising to the top just makes people eye your throne.

Which is why I don't share a motherfucking thing I wouldn't want made public. I made that mistake very early on in my time online and it not only busted my give a damn, it made me realize that the second I have connected with someone, especially in an online environment, I have lost. Just don't say shit you don't want other people to hear and suddenly, magically, your online existence becomes waaaaaayyyyyy easier. Shit like this happens and you don't run and hide, you just shrug and move on.

This applies to life as well. If you are just fucking honest and not two faced you'll be fine. I would rather be an honest enemy to someone and have an honest enemy, than the alternative. If I have a secret, I tell NOBODY. I go to the grave with that shit. It's that simple.

I do enjoy manipulating other people, but that makes them targets not someone to be taken seriously. If it comes out that I was talking shit behind their back, I don't really care. That was the point, to manipulate their ass, to be fake. Online you get screenshots and all of this other bullshit.

What happened recently is fun as hell for a drama queen like me, but have some perspective. Like any train wreck, the glory is in the wreckage, not the fact that it happened in the first place. It's just another example of humanity doing what it does.

As for SIN, maybe #nothingtosee was a promise.

Friday, May 23, 2014

One Has To Wonder.....

If one does some form of art, where the line is. As you gather each piece like a magpie, you make something new, but not something that is truly yours. It contains pieces of others, pieces of things that have inspired you. By living in a World where plagiarism is considering something damning to do, lines are created by our society that don't really exist. One gets a glimpse at yet another form of morality at play, another rule most people follow.

We stare in horror if someone doesn't switch around what they have used to create their art enough. Words are used like inspired by as an effort to make what one makes their own. It's yet another way the great lie of originality and individuality is perpetrated by our psyches. It's yet another way each of us makes ourselves more special than we really are.

If no individual can own an idea, if these things belong to ALL of us, art becomes about what the person viewing it and interpreting it sees and not what the artist did. The artist becomes a cipher, a vessel something bigger than them is transmitted through.

Friday, May 9, 2014

You Know Who You Are

Well aren't we all entitled special little snowflakes? Full of self important ideas, masters of our own little universes, believing every little fucking episodes of our lives are worthy of discussion and display.

It's bullshit, it's bullshit when it comes from me and it's bullshit when it comes from you. You don't matter, you will probably make NO impact in your life. You are not one of the big influences, you are a speck, a bit of meaningless dust blowing away when your very small life is over. Even if you change minds how much of an effect do you really think that will have? Beyond becoming a big fish in an ever increasing pond of mediocrity, you are unforgettable, a character whose name will be impossible to recall when you finally shut the fuck up and sit down.

You want to fight the system? Bitch you are the system. The big fucking trick and secret is that the thing you are supposed to be getting free from, is in your own goddamn mind. YOU are the enemy, not some faceless thing 'out there' that needs to be countered. It's when you assume and don't know. It's when you think something is truth when you haven't experienced it. It's that you subscribe to society's mores even if you have simply inverted them.

That's the ultimate mindfuck, is the realization that the very thing that pisses you off is you. You stand there being the great outcast, the Adversary against all that is magian while still subscribing to it. With your pathetic infighting of what is and isn't troo blue through and through Satanism. Your dismissal of others accomplishments which may not mean shit to you or may not even seem that fucking Sinister but are to that individual.

Your herd conformity shows when you start spouting off the latest fucking buzzwords like you invented them (see what I did there?). Your herd conformity shows when you start whining because someone actually brought up a subject that is actually antinomian.. You will scream at the top of your lungs your ammoral reasoning for not doing something without seeing you are just spouting a secular version of the same morality.

You do it, I do it, the cunt over there does it. Why? Because actually doing something, anything that takes you out of your comfort zone and confronts the monster that stirs underneath the veneer of society takes actual fucking work. You need a reason to stay on that throne you have created while throwing out your common fucking platitudes while being the center of your own universe.

Just because you are the center of your own universe does NOT make you the center of mine or anybody else's. Just because you type whole strings of semi-coherent thought together doesn't mean that you get what the fuck a few, a select fucking few people are trying to explain on ANY given subject.

Now worries, I do the same shit. Pass judgement from my throne while silently chuckling at how retarded everyone else is. The ONLY difference is I am aware of it. I am aware that my life is meaningless and finding any meaning in what is largely a huge, chaotic, coincidental mess or making some kind of impact is the single most pointless thing I can do.

I do what I have always done, try to live a life where I can say 'you did alright' when I am done. I learned some shit, did some shit, changed the way you think about some shit and had some fun in the process. Everything I do is for me, not for anyone else.

The way I see Satanism (and the reason I am still here on the Satanic interwebz) is because I see it as the only philosophical/religious/praxis thingy that is selfish. It's not about the common good or advancing some cause. It's about ME doing some shit that goes way outside my comfort zone and learning some shit from it. Embracing what I am not, what society refuses to accept or even acknowledge the existence of.

But no please, please continue. There should totally be yet another thread on the internet debating what LaVey meant when he said something.

Thursday, March 13, 2014


A game is being played for your mind, for everyone's mind. An idea is formulated. It is picked up, examined, tossed around, and for a few it infects them. A simple thing that occurs for one reason or another.

I collect quotes and in my spare time will trace the root of a quote. I do this because it lets me make a choice on some level. I find an idea, expressed through just a couple of sentences. I take it, it becomes mine and in a way, I own a small part of that person's mind. I have asserted a bit of dominance over the ideas that infect me. I have said loudly and deliberately, you are mine, I am keeping you. They reflect something I take to be a truth.

I find that at different points it's ideas about different things I want to keep. It evolves and the pieces of people's minds that I take fit a pattern. Like I am taking a small mental trip through my idea about a certain subject, whatever it is.

Music play a role in this as way. I ride a wave when it comes to that. There will be pieces of songs that I want to keep. It's still quotes, it's taking a piece of that song and declaring it my own.

Lately, I have found myself preserving my own quotes. Things I have said that I want to keep. It's why I write, I want to preserve where I am at in a given time period mentally. I feel the journey I am on is worth preserving in some form.

The journey a quote takes can be fascinating to observe and shows just how ideas mutate over time. The author will be wrong, the intent can be misinterpreted, a number of factors will mutate a quote into something mutated, something that doesn't fit what the person who spoke or wrote it meant.