tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36679761393590739342024-03-21T20:15:08.154-07:00FemaleSatanJust my own Incoherent Rantings displayed for the World to see....FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-86710545363396876752019-11-23T10:44:00.001-08:002019-11-23T10:44:40.764-08:00I Miss This...I miss having time, energy, willingness to put down my thoughts, I miss my own misconceived self importance, the journey that had no destination that I underwent for so long. <br />
<br />
Shit changed and changed again. I find myself doing the most mundane of jobs (for okay money). I lost almost everything I actually cared about. I found that most of what I valued was fucking meaningless. I woke up one day and the idea of expressing myself was exhausting. <br />
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Existential crisis? Maybe. It felt more like I burned something away finally. A want for... camaraderie. Like it finally stopped mattering.. All of it did. I feel like a stranger from who I was five or ten years ago. Things that seemed to matter, don't. Expressing oneself is less about what is written or said and more about what one does, who they are. You will make less of an impact than you think you will when you are young, more of one than you want to when you are older. <br />
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I have two people I work with. One is an adorable pixie of a girl who treats me like a goddamn guru. Left her home store to join mine because I have some kind of spiritual wisdom to teach her. She tells me all of her problems and I tell her to fix her shit but with a weird Earth Goddess vibe to it. It's what she wants, a sounding board and she is notqq capable of concepting anything I actually have to say. She annoys me. The constant help me grates on my nerves. She's also a terrible person who potrays herself as a nice girl. She's selfish, victim mentality having, flighty, drug addled and annoying. She's irredeemable to me and I don't mean that in a good way. More of a please stop breathing air way. <br />
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Then there's my other coworker. He's the only one I have opened up to at all. He read my blog on his vacation. Jesus fucking Christ, he drug this shit up. He comes back to work and we talk about Satanism and philosophy for the majority of a very long shift. He asked me why I stopped writing and why I don't try to publish a book. I told him because information should be free and nobody gives a damn about philosophy in 2019. He's the nicest guy, perceived as an asshole by most of the staff (I'm the nice one, lol.), accountable for himself, respectful to most people and depressed but in a dark humor way. I want to help him. I want to grab him and hug him and say, everything will work out even if it doesn't, especially if it doesn't. He's not looking for a sounding board though. Or a guru or a mother. He just wants to kick it and chill and pick my brain. No what should I do? What are the answers?<br />
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What bothers me is he stays at a job he hates because I'm there (One of his outside work friends explained this to me). I tiptoe around the whole thing. I know he's gonna be okay and batshit crazy will get hers in the end. I know it's not my place to intervene or even offer advice. The only advice I could give is do NOTHING the way I did it. I'm not an example, hell I perpetually don't have my shit together. <br />
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I guess that's why I stopped. I realized one day I didn't know shit. I've forgot more lessons than I've ever learned and applying things I've learned, rofl, is not my style. Until it is. I keep changing, becoming a new version of myself while retaining a weird stubborness that carries me through life. It's less I have wisdom and more of a fuck you mentality making me still kick around. <br />
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At 40, people want me to have some accumulated wisdom to offer and I have one for myself, kinda, on a good day if you don't take me to seriously. I don't have answers. I don't think anyone does outside some personal philosophical bent they can come up with and maybe codify in some way. <br />
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Anyway, I missed this. Didn't realize it until someone brought it up. Now what? Maybe I'll write some more, maybe I'll never write again. It's still all about me though. That's all that matters. <br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-36252431258985884742015-10-27T15:21:00.000-07:002015-10-27T15:25:20.715-07:00The Creeping Onset of Loneliness Just fuck off and leave me alone. Like that it's done, a relationship that I mistakenly got emotionally invested in lost. I'm not going to call, write, show up, cause a scene, make a bunch of drunk texts to try to reengage you, I am done as well. I am not built to beg to be in someone's life, either you get me or you don't, either you are on the level or you're not. <br />
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Here's the problem I currently have, I have been alone for a long time, even in relationships. A little individual ship doing its own thing for a long ass time. I don't get emotionally involved, not on more than a surface level, letting people in causes pain, it lets them hurt you, it lets them prove themselves to be distrustful pieces of shit. It's waaayyyy easier to be alone (even in a group) than to be open hearted for two seconds. <br />
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Then a motherfucker gets to me, they seem to be one of mine,they actually manage to get me to open up the vault for them. I let them in, I start feeling warm gushy feelings of being safe, being accepted, hell let's get honest here, being loved for the first time in a long time. It feels good, I feel like maybe I was wrong about other people and my long reigning attitude of me being the only person I can depend on or trust is false. <br />
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Then I get fucking betrayed, again. This time I feel something though and it's not my typical murderous, misanthropic, thanks for proving me right rage. No, I get hurt and it's a big hurt. Not over this specific incident but at the fact that I am lonely. I can feel it, this big gaping fucking hole in my life that has been there forever and I was numb to it. After so long of feeling that loneliness, I got used to it, it became something that almost didn't exist, not on a surface level. No, my loneliness,which has been there since I was a child,is palatable. <br />
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I want to be held, I want someone else to put their arms around me, tell me it's going to be okay and I want to believe them, I want to know everything is safe now in that split second. I want to exhale, not be on my guard so much, I want that low level of fear I walk around with all the time to disappear. I want what a good parent can give a child, what a good man, a really good man gives to a woman, what a best friend is capable of, the ability to be safe and be safe because that other person is there and they are bigger and stronger than whatever wants to hurt you. <br />
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It's irrational and it's stupid but it's there, that I want to connect with someone on THAT level. I also realize I have wanted that for a long time and that I cover it up because it feels so goddamn needy. I seek out men that are capable of hurting me (and willing to) because they can hurt others if they are going to be that safe oasis I find. I seek parental figures because my parents were incapable of providing that feeling of safety. My friends tend to be younger because I am very good at providing this for someone else. None of that gives me what I want though.<br />
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When I think on the concept of religion, I realize it provides that for a good number of people. A place they can feel safe, warm, loved, etc. A loving God to replace what other individuals, individuals of your own kind should provide. A parental figure that never lets you down, a best friend who is never to be busy to be there, an instant good man that gives you exactly what you need. I realize it's part of the delusion that makes faith such a powerful goddamn thing, it lets the mind believe you finally found that oasis in the storm of fucked up people and fucked up situations. The truth is you didn't really find that though, you just found a band-aid as powerful as my numbness was. You just embraced a concept that made you feel less alone, I ain't doing that shit.<br />
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I realize I have three choices here. I can feel the void with something that doesn't really fill it, religion, lots of hot sex, drugs and alcohol or something else that cause the numbness to return. I can really look at it, realize where it comes from and fix whatever it is that makes me feel this loneliness. Maybe I can be my own oasis from the sea of fucked up people and fucked up situations. Maybe I can realize some big fucking epiphany that makes me say "holy fuck that is what that is" like I have trust issues or something else. <br />
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The third choice is even harder, maybe that's the real reality shit I feel. Maybe the World is just a sea of fucked up people and fucked up situations waiting to take you down, waiting to fuck you over and I SHOULD be afraid, I should always be on my guard, I should trust no one, not even myself because I am fucking human as well. I should feel this big fucking hole in my life because NOTHING EXISTS THAT CAN FILL IT. <br />
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Life keeps teaching me that I alone. No God to save me, no religion to fill my cup, no person to make me whole, no parent to make me feel like the World and all its bullshit will go away, nothing, I have nothing over and over again. It makes me feel worthless, like I am less than human for being who and what I am. A part of me screams "I am WORTHY of love and trust and some other shit that I need" while the other part says, "Darling, no human being is worthy of that and you are human, so very human." I am that thing, human. I am full of flaws, imperfections, fuck ups, screwing other people over, and other manipulative shit that only the human species is capable of. <br />
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I feel the creeping onset of loneliness in my life, with no resolution. I AM alone and always will be, because no human being can provide what I need, including myself. <br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-81163570036898583492015-04-25T17:49:00.001-07:002015-04-25T17:50:09.219-07:00Agent of Chaos<p>You ever get the feeling as soon as your life is going well that it's time to derail the bitch? </p>
<p>I do all the damn time. I'm happy, something is wrong. I have structure and balance in my life? Fuck that, it's chaos time. </p>
<p>Do the drugs. Fuck the random guy, no wait, fuck your boss. Have the drink and another. Start the fight for no reason. </p>
<p>A pattern develops. One that is self destructive, one that shows I am broken somehow. I get restless, bored, ready to pursue some new challenge. The status quo, even if self created, has to constantly turn over, constantly be in a state of flux. Otherwise, I am not really satisfied. </p>
<p>I am an agent of chaos. </p>
FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-26699753767591872022015-04-21T18:20:00.001-07:002015-04-21T18:21:49.041-07:00Bitch Please...<p>Take that tired ass dramatic bullshit elsewhere. I am to old and far to busy to participate in some pissing contest over a man. You want him? Go ahead and try. </p>
<p>I know you are younger, stronger, faster and far more available. I know you had him but here's the thing YOU lost him. I know all of the dirty laundry that exists between you two and if he wants that he can have it. </p>
<p>I wonder where you were when I wasn't in the picture. I don't think the reason you pulled the bullshit you did is about him. It's about me and your dislike of me. You view me as white trash wait I believe the phrase you used was 'low class whore.' </p>
<p>Lol, you do realize me and him come from the same neighborhood and the socio-economic status right? I dated him in high school, hell I will go as far as to say he wouldn't be where he is today without me helping him pass his sophmore year. That's right, I was the one that talked him into taking school seriously, not you. </p>
<p>And he is one of mine, he is part of my tribe and it doesn't matter if we last or not. I will ALWAYS have his back even if it is as 'just' a friend. I will ALWAYS be there for his kids.</p>
<p>So as I said, try the shit you got planned. I won't lose him even if I lose the perceived pissing contest you decided we are in. I had to much of an influence on him twenty years ago to become a memory or someone he used to know. Some relationships go beyond what happens right now. <br><br></p>
FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-90633091122584428382015-01-24T10:11:00.001-08:002015-01-24T10:11:57.985-08:00Trust Much?<p>Life is strange, you can know people and never really know them. They can stand in front of you and communicate nothing to you. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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. <br>
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. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>I learned to only trust and rely on myself at the expense of a having a single human connection. </p>
<p>That's the essence of this line I found: trust. I don't have any left. <br><br></p>
FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-64179337101507668702014-09-28T17:10:00.001-07:002014-09-28T17:12:08.589-07:00Nostalgic RamblingThe 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. <br />
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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).<br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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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.' <br />
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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. <br />
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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. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-70915131209711575972014-08-12T11:28:00.002-07:002014-08-12T11:28:56.145-07:00Oh For Fucks Sake, Really? Warning: slightly hypocritical rant incoming. <br />
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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.<br />
<br />
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? <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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Oh and fuck that fucking statue, seriously. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-1100928259252945762014-07-03T07:21:00.001-07:002014-07-03T07:27:00.471-07:00Let'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. <br />
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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? <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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As for SIN, maybe #nothingtosee was a promise. <br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-13041234322885422442014-05-23T07:44:00.001-07:002014-05-23T07:54:10.642-07:00One Has To Wonder.....<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/wP8M79zrTrw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-26600594048703466282014-05-09T12:43:00.001-07:002014-05-09T12:43:53.517-07:00You Know Who You AreWell 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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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But no please, please continue. There should totally be yet another thread on the internet debating what LaVey meant when he said something. <br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-28672550307039341722014-03-13T17:30:00.000-07:002014-03-13T17:33:41.423-07:00QuoteA 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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-61678608230633581832014-03-06T09:50:00.004-08:002014-03-06T09:50:46.782-08:00Looking for Lilith“Lilith is a character who appears in passing in the Talmud and in rabbinical folklore. She is a figure of evil, a female demon who seduces men and threatens babies and women in childbirth. She is described as having long hair and wings (Erub. 100b; Nid. 24b). It is said that she seizes men who sleep in a house alone, like a succubus (Shab. 151b). She is also mentioned in midrashim and kabbalistic works, in which she is considered to be the mother of demons. Her name probably comes from the Hebrew word for night (laila). She is similar to and probably based on a pagan demon named Lulu or Lilu that appears in Gilgamesh and other Sumerian and Babylonian folklore.<br />
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In recent years, some women have tried to reinvent Lilith, turning her into a role model for women who do not accept male domination or a rival goddess to the traditions that they think are too male-biased. For example, a number of female musical artists participated a concert tour called “Lilith Fair” a few years ago, and the name “Lilith” was clearly chosen to represent female empowerment....<br />
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http://encyclopediasatanica.wordpress.com/2014/03/04/looking-for-lilith/ <br />
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I found this blog today and it's excellent. I'll be linking it, check it outFemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-76782794553658772992014-02-14T16:39:00.001-08:002014-02-14T17:06:29.499-08:00You Don't Know MeYou see shadows, a reflection in a mirror when you gaze in my direction. Shadows on the wall, misdirection. You perceive what I show. Your own psychological projections color every interaction we have ever had and at that moment I become a reflection of you, reflected in your mind's eye. <br />
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So often I see people assuming that they know another's motivations, their psychological quirks, that they have figured out the how and whatfors for other people. It's yet another line of bullshit we feed ourselves mentally. Our myopic point of view takes over and it cripples any ability to rise above others, to truly understand the motivations behind another's actions. <br />
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I attempt to discern through the bullshit people throw out. I want to understand the motivations behind actions, myself or other people's. I was programmed at birth and throughout my entire childhood and I want to rewrite that programming, figure out if a thought I have, an action I take is motivated by what I have referred to as my 'core self' (which in a twist of irony may not really exist, cut through more layers and all you find is more layers) or if it is that programming. <br />
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Other were programmed as well and I am rarely seeing them as they truly are. I am getting glimpses, what they deem worthy to share. I am getting their projections, their mask, their manipulations when they interact with me. I am seeing shadows and rarely glimpsing the real person underneath all that. <br />
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I do find that humans at large, even myself, are strictly selfishly motivated creatures, that embody might is right even if they don't realize it or believe it's a valid principle. Most want me to conform to what they find acceptable and when I defy those expectations I get the joy of isolation in return. <br />
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Some want to believe their own hype, their own self perpetrated and created lies. They serve them, they let them be the master of their own story, the star of the show. The sun the entire World revolves around, the God of their own little mental universe. <br />
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I see people blame others for everything. It's not their fuck up, it's the World not understanding their greatness. The biggest lie of all is that most people tell themselves that they are infallible and if something happens not according to plan, it's the fault of someone else. <br />
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This is one I struggled with for years. The idea that I am fallible, that I fuck up, that I am to blame most of the time when the shit hits the fan. I could have acted or reacted differently. Satanism provided me with this epiphany actually, the fact that accountability is what separates me from them in a meaningful way. That I want to own my thoughts, my reactions, my life. That I want it to be my Will that decides what happens next, not the whim of the World at large. See when you have accepted the special snowflake, infallible mindeset others operate under you have given the society at large and others power over you. By throwing the responsibility for things on to other people you have given the power over you. You have become a pawn, a chesspiece to by moved around, never accountable but powerless as well. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-82217332662255650582014-02-01T12:59:00.003-08:002014-02-01T14:36:23.304-08:00Breaking The IdealistAh, to be young again. To feel like the whole world will bow at my feet and conform to what I think it should be. To embody the essence of hope, faith and idealism. To know that over time things will change, the inner knowledge that if I do enough the entire world can be made over in the image I want it to be. <br />
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It's bullshit I bought into when I was younger, less cynical and beat down by the World and the general suckage that is humanity. A grand set of delusions I carried back then. I was convinced that things were going to way I thought they would due to a set of pretty thoughts I had. I was going to change the World, be something, do something meaningful with my life and have a lasting impact on all of humanity. <br />
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It's fed to you in school, the idea that you can do or be anything you want to be. That the circumstances you were born into, the things that pushed you around and shaped you weren't really shaping you. That I was more than everyone else, blah, blah, blah, insert American dream speech here. <br />
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That is not the best beginning for this, it's simply me reminding myself of WHY I have made some of the decisions I made, what the folly of youth really was. Youth isn't about age, it's about experience in my opinion. <br />
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I do a lot with the non-profit sector and homeless individuals in my community. I started this portion of my journey from an Idealist's perspective. I was going to change things, make a difference, do something extraordinary, have an impact on my community in some lasting way. <br />
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Have I accomplished that? Hell no, the only thing I have exposed myself to is a group of individuals that are crazy, on drugs, lazy as fuck, nasty, or bad luck magnets. I have managed to throw myself into a career path where I come home at night and sob at the hopelessness I see on a daily basis. <br />
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They come in and out in and out. Off the streets for a few months and right back on them. Off the drugs and using again a few months later. Getting treatment for the mental shit and then disappearing for months on end. Human trash in so many ways and I was a smiling, happy, let me help you face to be used by them, to be treated as some servant and not what I was, a person VOLUNTEERING their time or working for minimum wage to help them. <br />
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There's no gratitude. All I get is give me, give me, give me, why is my laundry taking so long, screamed at, or worse. The other people that are doing what I am doing have worse attitudes than they do. They are constantly being shitty to each other and our 'clients' as well. <br />
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TMI right? Well, it's there for a reason. People build up and glamorize things they haven't experienced. We decide that we understand something based on no experience and walk around full of these ideas of what it is, without having lived it. The homeless are victims, the poor need help, violence and murder are cool, I would totally kill every zombie I saw bullshit that exists in every individuals head. <br />
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Idealism runs rampant in the Western mind. The reality of certain things will break you.<br />
FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-43289486769273400222014-01-07T06:11:00.001-08:002014-01-07T06:11:15.539-08:00The Wet Stone<br />
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There is a refrain you will hear from Satanists and it comes in many forms and has different terms used for it. 'The Fire', steel sharpening steel, putting up your ideas for peer review, etc. It's bullshit, all you do is provide yet another opinion in a sea of opinions. All I do is provide yet another opinion in a sea of opinions. <br />
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It's me who sits there with a wet stone slowly sharpening that blade so I can engage in another rhetorical exchange. It's me who figures out where my weaknesses are and turns them into strengths. It's me who applies the lessons, burns down my own paradigm over and over again to see what doesn't burn. <br />
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You don't do those things for me. You provide rhetoric. You provide a sparring partner. Someone that I can square off with to see just where my mental strengths and weaknesses are. You are not the one changing my mind or scrutinizing my ideas. <br />
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Rhetoric is the art of persuasive speaking or writing. It is not and never has been scrutiny. It's a way to win a discussion, it's a way to influence others ideas, manipulate the masses to agree with your ideas. Rhetoric is useful and all people you encounter in online forums use it to some degree with differing level of success.<br />
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Scrutiny is not the same thing. Scrutiny is critical observation or examination. When I present something and get hit with others rhetoric I have a choice to make. I can scrutinize my ideas or reject the rhetoric of others. I can hold onto something that hasn't held up to presenting it to others, or examine myself and the set of ideas in my head I am constantly walking around with. <br />
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Some thoughts I have are illusions and delusions I keep for one reason or another. They make me feel comfortable with things, they make me feel safe, I never really questioned the why and whatfors of that concept, whatever. <br />
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Other thoughts I have are based on my own personal experience. I lived through something and learned from it, an old idea I had about something was replaced with a concrete, this is how it is in reality concept. <br />
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The first kind can potentially be blasted away by someone else's rhetoric. Others will need more, they will need to actually get my hands dirty to get rid of that idea. <br />
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It is me doing the critical examination, not others. Others may be challenging me but it's me who sits down and evaluates if my ideas are shit or not afterwards. It's me who takes the rhetoric I encounter and digests it, puts it against my own ideas to see what is left.<br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-74667715976390275232013-11-06T18:29:00.001-08:002013-11-06T18:29:29.002-08:00I AMI AM: FROM FEMALESATAN'S BLOG<br />
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I am a stay at home mom (not true).<br />
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Who has five kids (is true). <br />
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Who dick rides men on the internet (not true but I like dick). <br />
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Who certain members at Circle talk shit about behind her back (prolly true)<br />
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Nobody respects (not true).<br />
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Who quit showing her tits at SIN because nobody wanted to see them (not true, Zach and others begged me on multiple occasions).<br />
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Attention whore (VERY true).<br />
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Drama Queen (True).<br />
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Cunt (also true).<br />
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Someone who uses petty personal attacks all the time (Yep). <br />
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Liar (absolutely). <br />
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Open Book (not true, I guarantee you know less than you think you do about me). <br />
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Is stupid (Not true. If I was I wouldn't still be here). <br />
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The point is this, I know what people say about me. I always have. If you think rehashing the same old shit about me is going to make me run away and cry in the corner, you are wrong. <br />
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So you don't like me as a person. Good, I didn't want you to. You hate me. I got under your skin for some reason. I reflected some concept you have trouble with handling. I stomped on your moral sensibilities. Whatever, you have decided to dismiss me based on who I am. <br />
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None of this common string of attacks I receive touches on WHY my ideas are bad. I wanted you to tell me what is wrong with my ideas, put them to scrutiny. You can't or you would have by now. The few that have put my ideas to the test, have earned my respect. The few who have made me think, have earned my respect. <br />
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I can guarantee if you are using ANY of the above to take a low blow at me, you aren't on my respect list.<br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-50738674531256930192013-11-06T18:28:00.001-08:002013-11-06T18:28:30.301-08:00What Versus WhyWHAT VERSUS WHY FROM FEMALESATAN'S BLOG<br />
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Who, what, when, where, why and how. When I was in school I had a teacher that said to process anything you need to be able to actually answer all of these questions. She always laid out tests this way. I do this whenever I am fooling around with a new idea. <br />
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When I look at the amount of writing about Satanism it's the what not the why. Now this sounds strange but think about it. <br />
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That's what we do, we discuss the what. Over and over again. <br />
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Some people misappropriate the What and think it's the why over and over again. It's where the softer version of Satanism comes from. Someone taking the what and making it the why. <br />
They have misunderstood that all a writer can do is tell you what this is. <br />
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The why can be explained but it's incredibly difficult to understand without experience. <br />
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A great example is the doing meme. People will say they 'do' Satanism but the why can't be explained. They do it because they do goddammit. This makes that whole concept watered down and meaningless. Especially if the what isn't accurately understood either. <br />
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Who 'does' Satanism? What is 'doing' Satanism? When do you 'do' Satanism? Where do you 'do' Satanism? Why do you 'do' Satanism? How do you 'do' Satanism? <br />
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Answer the questions and get back to me. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-27320833747558335482013-11-06T18:27:00.002-08:002013-11-06T18:27:56.307-08:00Personal Anecdote BlogPERSONAL ANECDOTE BLOG FROM FEMALESATAN'S BLOG<br />
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I was walking down the street one day and heard two guys called me some shitty ass names. I froze, my scared little bunny came out. <br />
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But they pulled into a subway real close by, maybe a hundred feet. I stood there and it hit me. Who are you really? Are you the kind of person that takes that? Are you going to take this? What are you going to do? Just walk off or stand up for yourself? How many times does someone say something like that and then pull into a place that close to you? <br />
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This was followed by going to worst case scenario in my mind. Will they beat me up? Maybe they'll shoot me if I confront them. What's the worst that could happen (answer everybody dies, every time)? <br />
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Go for it. Face it and see what happens, actually stand up for yourself. <br />
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So I walked up and wrote down their license plate number. Walked in the Subway. <br />
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I screamed, "Hey what you said to me isn't fucking cool! You need to apologize to me! I am a person!" <br />
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Everyone jumped including the sandwich artist. The turned around. Now at this point they were pretty fucking scary in my mind. What they really were was something else entirely. They were both teenagers, one of them was in a Cub Scout uniform, LOL. <br />
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They both started hurriedly apologizing. I told them I wasn't going to call the cops and left. <br />
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Now, I know this is a little silly but it wasn't to me. It was a defining moment in my life, a moment that I practically applied this shit I talk about. I stood up and I said something. I proved to me I was the kind of person that says something when I get fucked with like that.FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-51616316521521417332013-10-27T15:36:00.002-07:002013-10-27T15:39:38.899-07:00You Find Out Who Your Friends AreFriend is a rather vacuous term in today's society isn't it? It doesn't denote someone that is part of your tribe, it denotes someone that you know passingly to most. It's become a bullshit term. A term that is thrown around, used by people to get, get, get, not necessarily give back. <br />
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A term that is used to exert control, to force a conformity on you, that quite simply, I can't abide at times. It makes me angry to see this happen and it happens everywhere. <br />
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Now, I don't view friendship in terms of when I am doing well. The frank truth is when you are riding high, everyone likes you. When you have, people love the shit outta you. <br />
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When I contemplate who my friends are, I think about the other times. The times the shit hit the fan. Who had my back? Who was there for me when I was at my lowest? <br />
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That's a short list, a very short list. People that were there not because I had something that they wanted but because I was one of theirs. A resonance that is borne of something deeper than just a friendship. A moment of commonality and companionship that runs deeper than any of the hubris that it defined as friendship by most. <br />
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It's something simple and something indescribably deep in places. A knowing, that this person would actually be there for me, they have already been there for me and in return I will be there for me when they fall down and have their bad moment. <br />
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Not to gain but because by knowing them I have gained something precious and irreplaceable. I gained a tribe. So I have no choice but to honor that bond, not out of a loss of freewill or a need to conform but because finding that with someone else, anybody else in a World where most people lack the ability to do that on such a fundamental level, is to precious to violate the terms of that silent agreement you made at that moment. <br />
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FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-2482323655323985282013-10-25T20:08:00.001-07:002013-10-25T20:08:29.656-07:00DarkFail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0uYUg67q4IksHsfC73vMGHyfOZ7xsOgl7beNjo3fdUlTHV7PhoFykMWOowOBs4DmTnV1yMt69ks3eOQHmbovozkFJvbmn6BFh1eRlxnqs-XKsT58YI7ip9eokMD0cNjyeJWbYGdmaSes/s1600/dffreakoutone.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0uYUg67q4IksHsfC73vMGHyfOZ7xsOgl7beNjo3fdUlTHV7PhoFykMWOowOBs4DmTnV1yMt69ks3eOQHmbovozkFJvbmn6BFh1eRlxnqs-XKsT58YI7ip9eokMD0cNjyeJWbYGdmaSes/s320/dffreakoutone.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6IpRvvnw8BteVy6vHxKxNFDJ7LVf7YjR1hKLzCvIBNeezmt8vfyX0zQA5jOzAOtSvldrCi_pvZveo3gggw-KQjixp5k4yv_2r7JdHsWQLp6tgHLNmXSEsiwQUVRE-5ZILoXz-JRD9_Z4/s1600/dffreakouttwo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6IpRvvnw8BteVy6vHxKxNFDJ7LVf7YjR1hKLzCvIBNeezmt8vfyX0zQA5jOzAOtSvldrCi_pvZveo3gggw-KQjixp5k4yv_2r7JdHsWQLp6tgHLNmXSEsiwQUVRE-5ZILoXz-JRD9_Z4/s320/dffreakouttwo.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWPtfQjF-3nh8PTBxNaZoLee_-_w-3ztNcSTKItUClpGF9WvjDj1O-E2lhcfhHwEqiBnSHneAbs-Ve_o7qkXm5cG7D9BZlJrzDhPQ3uv2nPlTwP7iyG-v0z4OnWS1tTKWRdJsaTOKIuaVt/s1600/dffreakoutthree.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWPtfQjF-3nh8PTBxNaZoLee_-_w-3ztNcSTKItUClpGF9WvjDj1O-E2lhcfhHwEqiBnSHneAbs-Ve_o7qkXm5cG7D9BZlJrzDhPQ3uv2nPlTwP7iyG-v0z4OnWS1tTKWRdJsaTOKIuaVt/s320/dffreakoutthree.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpqiuajf9xO01lyXnZcJiiLTLqDIH7JRQCOtvL85h-9dQ1sVr3o0h5SLlhok3hve-Uoc41LaMSJr9lNHCiQUPaT9qepVxLTrHMlXcH-uf8DZaJYFJ82_wq4Qm6E04-koC1XQZ7_e7D1ej/s1600/dffeakout1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpqiuajf9xO01lyXnZcJiiLTLqDIH7JRQCOtvL85h-9dQ1sVr3o0h5SLlhok3hve-Uoc41LaMSJr9lNHCiQUPaT9qepVxLTrHMlXcH-uf8DZaJYFJ82_wq4Qm6E04-koC1XQZ7_e7D1ej/s320/dffeakout1.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kLReq9KBycNyqXqS25-RDVbIyss-jkTIo3lPCEI6jgoJRqT4fOC84icNoqvY9cQBaNNXRA1GBOWtJHdR6E13CUo4sMrda5tf0lsm4Uo-nvTiBBLrgivRWhTgmsFa1O3MGHgxAQEF97Wi/s1600/dffreakout2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kLReq9KBycNyqXqS25-RDVbIyss-jkTIo3lPCEI6jgoJRqT4fOC84icNoqvY9cQBaNNXRA1GBOWtJHdR6E13CUo4sMrda5tf0lsm4Uo-nvTiBBLrgivRWhTgmsFa1O3MGHgxAQEF97Wi/s320/dffreakout2.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8i9kCYsLIP4v9ljlTjGdcM8zfHQIYSLdFBsdK3HLBRZoophIvcRbEk79jokU0zi6Dan-dyDxIeBeQiiCOljBYiqK4jC20po4YjK9tJLYb_4HIgcexwMjS8PFJvYFQdQBrQyXkR_e_LNV9/s1600/dffreakout3.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8i9kCYsLIP4v9ljlTjGdcM8zfHQIYSLdFBsdK3HLBRZoophIvcRbEk79jokU0zi6Dan-dyDxIeBeQiiCOljBYiqK4jC20po4YjK9tJLYb_4HIgcexwMjS8PFJvYFQdQBrQyXkR_e_LNV9/s320/dffreakout3.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZRAGFNQjjWJ6FsX0AAQFCYHmSZrxeRmh8E78NzLimlIayQ3HPwIU5o1lASrzmpeM-CygHf1TefeCzBx5Or3hoeb_6tLjchKpOUwk9n0AOoGZaNfq-buxS1gFaUZQfNfYXPpM6hxs0TUl/s1600/dffreakout4.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZRAGFNQjjWJ6FsX0AAQFCYHmSZrxeRmh8E78NzLimlIayQ3HPwIU5o1lASrzmpeM-CygHf1TefeCzBx5Or3hoeb_6tLjchKpOUwk9n0AOoGZaNfq-buxS1gFaUZQfNfYXPpM6hxs0TUl/s320/dffreakout4.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMqhi_2N9SHb25dggpT1_S7eZr2vr39zTZ5nPhCPfundoPi9E7m2zDYAq9Pd-xBk0XOa8OsIHcQm889u2gXqVHd2dOvtkT5cSOomPEauncBsj_TjUdJliefr5vbnW5lhJHsAM7s1FwH5M/s1600/dffreakout5.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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D00d, you are a huge pile of fail. I don't have much to say except, LOL.FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-89426268385288559122013-10-06T09:09:00.000-07:002013-10-06T09:25:57.112-07:00Sugar And Spice And Everything Nice That's what Sinister Girls are made of. <br />
<br />
femalesatan@yahoo.com<br />
<br />
Comments welcome. I have to approve them first. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-56427226683723337372013-09-30T18:41:00.000-07:002013-10-01T06:04:52.239-07:00In For A Penny, In For A PoundI don't want to do this, I really don't. I simply want to move forward with my life and continue down my Path, SIN free. However, I looked at the homepage and you motherfuckers are killing me. <br />
<br />
Okay, there is some air to clear. Zach is lying through his motherfucking teeth. I did NOT cuss him out via pm and I have the screnshots to prove it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvX2IrSweACcj8yp_KLN-vKt-k7aKfYuHzyffkJXwmht1bJHKkabq_xShcIs94Oi0KHlBfpDl7qpTCpt9-Bl9F6dAdN7TSUX3oxEsqYEAqC6j3YaKXX7StZzBy9gOKshf0gxv1PzmYsnH/s1600/zach+3.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvX2IrSweACcj8yp_KLN-vKt-k7aKfYuHzyffkJXwmht1bJHKkabq_xShcIs94Oi0KHlBfpDl7qpTCpt9-Bl9F6dAdN7TSUX3oxEsqYEAqC6j3YaKXX7StZzBy9gOKshf0gxv1PzmYsnH/s320/zach+3.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nQqWFwU9ZRm2Rg38cCF2eLSrkIoqJORt5yZHTPkMCyn_Tx8GqNW8p2c4DuEMHw3zy0jFrgVkagEbDzRAQg5882lqfgFBrxIMnKU2m-lWlURqrnLAhvZeUMle0fCULYzaG1VSt8IqMKEQ/s1600/zach+4.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nQqWFwU9ZRm2Rg38cCF2eLSrkIoqJORt5yZHTPkMCyn_Tx8GqNW8p2c4DuEMHw3zy0jFrgVkagEbDzRAQg5882lqfgFBrxIMnKU2m-lWlURqrnLAhvZeUMle0fCULYzaG1VSt8IqMKEQ/s320/zach+4.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fbW96ZP0AhvSIXZ587GVUyWvQjLyW5LYpeQVetmcQYZLGzziXseD5g_QLIMxvT5ZW0L2eB8all6Aalhhv_Xi_A-DFOFTEXy5UfaAgRyviJqJ5dQfNKZxiFLfhZ02EbsmewZZzH3bLC0x/s1600/zach+5.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fbW96ZP0AhvSIXZ587GVUyWvQjLyW5LYpeQVetmcQYZLGzziXseD5g_QLIMxvT5ZW0L2eB8all6Aalhhv_Xi_A-DFOFTEXy5UfaAgRyviJqJ5dQfNKZxiFLfhZ02EbsmewZZzH3bLC0x/s320/zach+5.PNG" /></a></div><br />
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Now this is the first conversation in pm that we had. Note the date. This conversation is occurring on Spetember 6, 2013. See me and Zach had a huge dust up right before his dust up with JK. Now why does this matter? Because I simply stated my opinion, he blew up and called me names. I apologized to him to let the dust settle and let SIN move forward. I knew if it continued I would have my head chopped off. I didn't want that. <br />
<br />
Here is the second set:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8X1Am4FRQM2-1p4LI0-Wo3HZA6rqUMw7343TDnoGHKmJ5o9G9FgNala-YFi7lYAqvnBajQWcCkAipMA9KVxa9TtA4ayE6sn6aH5JGeVkAGX0BGfds8e373sAWgoofE3KpIvf5q-1mCxXQ/s1600/zach+1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8X1Am4FRQM2-1p4LI0-Wo3HZA6rqUMw7343TDnoGHKmJ5o9G9FgNala-YFi7lYAqvnBajQWcCkAipMA9KVxa9TtA4ayE6sn6aH5JGeVkAGX0BGfds8e373sAWgoofE3KpIvf5q-1mCxXQ/s320/zach+1.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdvCvBUZb-hM1JhC_pGts2wJ1G9YgxMcVcr0YezSEz4DUp3Gm2Z7uf6fFtLB0gc_ZLbyLIjA9noPEJw8rCKDot8ao7okdQmo6KVxXD6_ajFZAb9nWXXQwWmeWSoi-0HlhklKH1PUDX5m_/s1600/zach+2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdvCvBUZb-hM1JhC_pGts2wJ1G9YgxMcVcr0YezSEz4DUp3Gm2Z7uf6fFtLB0gc_ZLbyLIjA9noPEJw8rCKDot8ao7okdQmo6KVxXD6_ajFZAb9nWXXQwWmeWSoi-0HlhklKH1PUDX5m_/s320/zach+2.PNG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Again, note the date. This second set of pms occurs immediately after my first suspension. Was I warned before my first suspension? No, I was simply suspended. Did I cuss him out? Fuck no, that's to easy. I told him not to big dog and make threats. Now I did blow up on the forums immediately after the last pm was sent and said FUCK YOU ZACH. I was then re-suspended. Now this asshole keeps claiming that everyone doesn't know the conversations that occurred. Now you do. If he had pms that made me look bad, he would fucking share them. He did in the JK incident. <br />
<br />
What Zach has consistently failed to realize is that my issues with him were before JK's issues. I did swallow my pride and bend over like a bitch the first time, I didn't the second time. I honestly think he is suffering from a combination of delusions and paranoia at this point. I say that because he doesn't even remember suspending Dan, he tells everyone I cussed him out in pm and truckload over other shit that is flat out false. It's like his memory is going at this point. <br />
<br />
Another example of this outright lying is when he tells people I was axed from his Admin team. I was never an Admin. I was a Moderator and the Moderator position was removed at SIN. Two Moderators were moved to Admin (Cassie and Sammie). The rest of us were simply cut due to 'to many complaints.' Were most of those complaints about me? Yep, but again I was never warned to calm down or back off (I was told once not to be a Morgan but that was literally months before he axed Mods). <br />
<br />
Now, on to the part that may surprise people. I don't want to be reinstated. I see how this would go and let me give you an example: <br />
<br />
(I am un-suspended) Fuck you Zach, little whiny dog my ass. That's why you axed me instead of addressing a single point I made. man fuck you. <br />
<br />
(re-suspended) <br />
<br />
(I am un-suspended) Seriously, Zach you are not David Lee Roth and people that post here are the band members behind you. You are the owner of the fucking club that the band plays in. Nothing more. You are insignificant in the grand scheme of things, all you provide is the venue. <br />
<br />
(re-suspended) <br />
<br />
You get the idea? This would go on in perpetuity until I either 1. deleted my account or 2. Zach kept me suspended. So, it's over and done. The relationship I had with Zach is over and I am fine with that. I don't agree with the general direction that SIN is now headed and I would be vocal as Hell about it. It's bullshit. <br />
<br />
I remember when Zach used to say that his Admin could suspend him if he got out of line. This was even tested at one point. He could still post, his physical page just said 'this User is suspended' when you clicked on it. I remember when he made Beast the manager because he said he was to hot headed to handle the decision making shit at SIN. I remember him taking a consensus in the forums consistently and LISTENING to it. If people felt he was out of line he would back up, examine the situation and change his behavior. I remember when Zach would post things thanking people for contributing and told everyone that their contribution mattered. <br />
<br />
It's not that way now. He has declared himself The Supreme Dictator of SIN and that shit needs to be called the fuck out. I would have expected the call outs that have occurred to be a wake up call to the guy. It certainly used to be a wake up call when people did that. He's changed, he's now saying things like he built SIN single handedly. Again, horseshit his Users built that site. He doesn't contribute in any meaningful way in the forums, he never has. <br />
<br />
I was at home on the site where the site owner was willing to admit wrongdoing, I was at home at the site where the site owner wanted his Admin team to have the ability to axe him. I am not at home at this current site. I feel like I am logging into a place that was a shell of its former glory. A place where mediocrity is valued over stratification. <br />
<br />
I knew that I was talking shit to a motherfucking asshole drunk on alcohol, power, fame and the influence of undesirables who are using him to gain fame for their bullshit organization. I also knew he possessed a ban hammer. It's the reason for the apology the first time around. So I own my role in it. I deserve the ban and I don't want to be reinstated. I need people there to quit acting like I am a martyr. I am not. I am someone who shit talked someone with a ban hammer and payed a price for it. It's simple, let it fall off of the front page and die already. <br />
<br />
I wouldn't come back to what I largely see as a cesspool of mediocrity with a Supreme Dictator running all. There are some quality posters there but they post elsewhere so I can catch their work. I would also like to add one more thing, I thoroughly enjoyed my time at SIN while I was there. Some of my associations shaped me, changed my Worldview, made me think, made me mad, made me laugh, made me cry. I have made some true friends there as well. I have also been really surprised at the people who stood up and said it was bullshit that I was axed. It makes me proud to of associated with y'all. <br />
<br />
However, it is time for me to move forward. To do something different. To test out some new shark infested waters and see how the experience goes. The front page of that site say 'Adapt or be crushed under the wheels of Satanic (in my opinion take that word out) progress. The wheel turned, I didn't adapt and I got crushed. So what, in the grand scheme of things I am still here, I am still writing and SIN goes on. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-36824943851903234082013-09-28T08:34:00.000-07:002013-09-28T08:34:30.743-07:00I'm Just A GirlThat's all you'll let me be, oh I'm just a girl living in captivity.... (Gwen Stefani)<br />
<br />
Sorry, all I was rocking out with my breasts out. :)<br />
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I don't make many apologies for what I am, Unless I am feeling hypocritical as fuck. A certain problem that has remained in my pursuit of the LHP is that I am a woman. I know this sounds stupid, but it's true. <br />
<br />
When I walk a mean street I walk it in fear. In some of my doings of Satanism I have realized that a man symbolizes protection in certain situations. Having one by your side means you are less likely to get fucked with. It doesn't matter how bad ass you are in you head, in the real, where people fucking bleed for talking shit, as a woman you are a walking victim. You're smaller, you're weaker, you can be hurt easier. It doesn't matter if you have training, you are a bunny, not a lion. <br />
<br />
I know that most women who claim to be Satanists are the equivalent of the bitch on the back of the bike. They're not a biker, they're the biker's bitch. Arm candy, a hole to have things inserted in, a groupie, not a force to be reckoned with in their own right. <br />
<br />
I am different, I am a biker. Hell, I have a bitch or two on the back of my bike when I roll down the street. It's just the way it is. I don't want to be the monster's girlfriend, I want to be a monster in my own right. <br />
<br />
So I actually walk my motherfucking walk. Even when it puts me in dangerous situations, even when it drags me kicking and screaming to stare at the abyss.<br />
<br />
Danger occurs for me more than it would for a man. I have crackheads walk up to me and grab me by my arm and ask me if I want to party. I have had four guys surround me and say, 'You think you can just walk off looking the way that you do and saying the shit that you just said.' I got one down, but they made me bleed. <br />
<br />
And my little bunny instinct kicks in and says 'RUN!!!!' I refuse to listen to it. I walk around like I am not going to die, like I am not going to suffer the ultimate consequence for living the lifestyle that I do. The bushido code can be summed up as live like you're dying. The whole idea is to die a good death with your honor not laying at your feet. That book is more my creed, my modus operandi than anything LaVey wrote. It's actually deep if you don't skim it people. <br />
<br />
Recently some of the restrictions I have had on myself have been lifted. I have lost the only thing that stopped me from actually becoming a Satan in the real, where it matters. I'm the bad guy of that tale and it's one that will never leave my lips. I deserve the Hell I am currently walking in. <br />
<br />
So for better or worse, I am not half assing it anymore. I find that as a woman, I am quite simply the prey of men. Yep, that's right humans are at the top of the motherfucking food chain but men sit above women. This is about physicality, not mental prowess or any hidden sacred feminine bullshit. In some situations the only thing that matters is who is stronger physically, who can hit harder and who has more stamina. <br />
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Women want to pretend this is not reality. They want to hide the fact that they are prey, that they have a little bunny instict telling them not to rock the boat, to hide and to run. The fact of the matter is this wouldn't be a Patriarchal society if men didn't dominate women in some way. If you take off the rose colored glasses and step out of the bubble of society it's there and it's manifest every day. Go sleep on the streets as a woman and see what the outcome is. Go walk through a shitty neighborhood sometime. Go out of the suburbs, off your beaten path and see what lays in the darkness seeking to take you down as a woman. <br />
<br />
Now I was raised to play out the worst case scenario in my head before I do anything. This is actually bad advice by the way because my mind is always like 'and then everyone died.' It was my mothers way of saying see things aren't that bad. What it has done most often for me is bring out the little bunny instinct and make me go, 'nope fuck that.' So I spent a good number of years in a constant state of fear, waiting for someone to hurt me. <br />
<br />
Here's the thing though, humans avoid pain. I have avoided situations in the past just to not hurt a little. The thing is, hurt is cleansing in a way. You can take more physically than you ever thought you could. When blood runs down your face because you actually stood the fuck up, you have a Jesus Christ I survived that moment. When you have another one of those and another one, it hits you like a ton of bricks. They may hurt me but I would truly prefer to die on my feet than live on my knees. I truly want to die with my honor intact, to know that I kicked that bunny instinct once and for all. <br />
<br />
Women will avoid that conflict at all costs. As prey we are designed to be peace makers, not fighters. Thing is it wasn't always that way. Women were Warriors for a long ass time. Satanism is just that a motherfucking Warrior Ethos. It's not black and listening to death metal. It's not being the arm candy to some big guy and giggling like a school girl when he says something. I would much prefer to be an anomaly than the alternative, it's dishonorable as fuck to just turn the other cheek. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-63610685156000222362013-09-12T16:04:00.001-07:002013-09-12T16:04:37.632-07:00Snakes In The GrassAll social interaction is a give and a take. A relationship is almost always based on things that once emotion is taken away are just transactions. <br />
<br />
This very quickly gets into manipulation of others. The attempt by you to gain from someone else without giving much. You can see this social manipulation everywhere you go. When you deal with Satanists its discussed with a viewpoint that lacks the moral repugnance you will see from other groups. People boast and brag about the manipulative skills or how they have done this or that to someone else. Like it's somehow different than what is done subconsciously by all humans on a daily basis. <br />
<br />
Let's put that shoe on the other foot for a minute. It's always perfectly fine when you are on top and the one manipulating the shit outta someone. It sucks when it's done to you. It will just piss you off that it happened to you. <br />
<br />
And everyone has had it happen to them. Everyone gets screwed over by someone else sometime. Your boss asks you to do a little extra work in order to get promoted but the promotion never comes. You fuck somebody and they don't call you back. You realize you are buying a whole lot of dinner and drinks for your friend but they don't reciprocate. Whatever, you get fucked over like you bent over and begged for it. <br />
<br />
One night I went to a bar and started talking to this really cute guy. The first thing I said to him was, "Hi, do you have a condom?" Yes, I am this kind of slut when I am in excruciating mental pain, it's a side effect. I refused to let him buy me any drinks. I went to his car fucked him and said to him, "Thanks." and got out of his car. He kept saying where are you going?, what are you doing?, etc. I felt sorry for him and gave him my phone number. <br />
<br />
This motherfucker blew my phone up for about a week. I know on the surface it looks like something any dude would want. However, because I was the one manipulating him into a one night stand he was hurt and pissed over the whole thing. One of his messages he left was something to the effect of he has one night stands all the time but NO woman just fucks him and doesn't call him back. <br />
<br />
It happens to me all the time as well. Someone manipulates me and succeeds I feel like a moron. I am hurt, I am pissed off, I feel betrayed, used. Now considering that I can intellectually figure out that this is what most social interaction is based on I shouldn't feel that way. Considering I discuss this concept quite frequently with a moral detachment why do I suddenly feel moral repugnance when it happens to me? <br />
<br />
'Do unto others as they do unto you' is all fine and good until someone does to me what I do to others. Like any monkey behavior I see in myself it's hypocritical as fuck. It's yet another example of how I intellectualize something without accounting for the emotional component. <br />
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I was standing in line at a coffee place and realized I was totally flirting with some guy I had no intention of having anything to do with. He was cute and I hate paying for my own coffee. I caught myself flipping my hair mid -standing in line- conversation with him. I actually thought, 'the fuck are you doing Jeanette' when he said, 'What kind of coffee do you want?' <br />
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I also watch other people for manipulative behavior and examine past interactions for any hint of manipulation in them. I think things like, 'did he actually think I was intelligent or was it an excuse to get into my pants.' 'is she using me?' 'When that happened five years ago was he intending to fuck me over?'<br />
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Just a loop that is paranoid as fuck but utterly realistic. People, whether they realize it or not, are snakes in the grass. Since I know that, I don't want to get bitten. FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667976139359073934.post-1517293953700647752013-09-08T17:15:00.002-07:002013-09-08T17:27:36.732-07:00CreatingIn order to create one has to dig into their mind, find something they feel is worthy of fleshing out, of discovering more fully and then make it with a combination of their imagination and a tool. A worthy thing to attempt. It's difficult to create something worthy of more than a passing glance. It's difficult to wade through what is and isn't good as the creator. <br />
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You don't see the flaws or you see every glaring flaw that exists. You want to fix the mistakes. So you start fucking with your creation. Moving this around. Moving that around. Adding this. Taking away that. <br />
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You want to start over. You have made the thing unrecognizable from its original intention. It looked better with the imperfections you attempted to fix. It's just a mess now, it's incomprehensible what you were attempting to do to being with. You want to destroy the thing you attempted to discover more fully. <br />
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You get hit with the dawning realization that it's you. You are the one that is imperfect. The creation was always perfect. It's you that lacks talent, it's you who made the mistakes. <br />
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The tool was a blank canvas you attempted to put the creation on. It's you that made this awful messy thing that looks nothing like what you saw in your head. It's you who made garbage out of nothing. <br />
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Now what? Simple, you start over and see what you find worthy of fleshing out that exists in your head, of discovering more fully.FemaleSatanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09920068503854872328noreply@blogger.com1