POBOL HUDOL

WITCHES AND WIZARDS OF WALES

©2018 ORDO OCTOPIA
All Rights Reserved

UN-EDITED FIRST DRAFT






PREFACE

Stories weave with Life.
This is their magic.

A part of their magic, for they have others not of this Life.
Through story, others may enter into this world, entwine with it.

This is such a story.
They have others.

This story began as a gift for two people and grew, wild.

To a powerful sorceress
who bestowed upon me the nature of an ocean;
life-giving, tempestuous, calm, life-taking. 

To a powerful apprentice whose fierce and fiery nature needs temperance,
whose volcanic skills must develop through time, to become confidence and mastery.

And as always a journey;
A way for me to sort my mind and feelings out.

Which is the third gift, for you.
Others.

The manuscript is first draft, as it came, no edit.

This story is dedicated to the purity of, and the respect for,
the world we shape exclusively, to the exclusion of all others.

And to CharLey, my guru.
And to El, my weather.
And to dogs, everywhere.

CHAPTER INDEX

One : the underworld

Two : disbelief syndrome

Three : using the users

Four : ‘nother thing coming

Five : rescue and exploitation

Six : curious yellow

Seven : social tetris

Eight : TBA

Nine : beyond limitations

Ten : face value

Eleven : different dreamings

Twelve :  TBA

Thirteen : purposeful evolution

Fourteen : the qtarg

Fifteen : sepia reign

Sixteen : feedback loop

Seventeen : liminal criminal

Eighteen : TBA

Nineteen : kid soldiers

Twenty : emotional abuse

Twenty One : alchemy

Twenty Two : everything in its right place

Twenty Three : that which does not kill us







 

Chapter One : the underworld

In older times, wizards lived underground.

The world above, a world of sun and night, storm and cold, the wild and natural cycles, was infested with angry, frightened, warring peoples of diverse kinds in many forms.

They built and they burnt, they learned and loved, they lost and forgot, they pillaged and slaved, to masters and to ideals. Wherever they built, they destroyed. Wherever they destroyed, they built. The cycle was endless. Over time, the futility of the endless cycle became apparent to the wise ones.

The wise ones saw their own wisdom was ignored and often lost because of the terrible situation of renewable warfare, which brings famine, which brings plague, all three are death. Often the wise ones tried to help but often they were hated, or fell to the temptations of glory, embroiled by the endless wheel of futile violence.

The wise ones went underground to the world below, creating their warrens, carved caves full of many splendors. They turned their back on the world above but for taking from it whatever they needed. For the most part they found peace.

They studied secretly. They studied magic. They studied alone but traded with each other, finding ways to do things far outside the beliefs of the warring tribes. Sometimes they fought each other for foolish whims and petty gains. Old habits die hard especially for recluses.

Some of them believed they could make a difference, a positive change, by combining their abilities to bring a change to the world. They founded the great academy, a temple of enlightenment to give their kind presence in the world and to strive toward the end goal of ending war permanently, by inventing or discovering a way to bring infinite peace to the surface world. Many thought them stupid for chasing a hopeless dream.


And so there are four types of wizards.

> The temple of light wizards and their syllabus, mostly younger students who if they survive into old age, become its teachers.
> The lonely hermetic wizards studying eccentric mysteries in their secret underground tunnels.
> Natural, wild wizards living on the surface with no formal training but for their instinct, generally called witches.
> The wizards of old who having found ways to beat death, remain in the world in some form of ghast.

In the surface world of ignorant and superstitious tribes, every wizard who is not of the temple of light is considered to be a demon.There are demon hunters who do not distinguish between wizards and evil spirits. To them, all supernature must be destroyed. There is an uneasy truce between the demon hunters and the school of light wizards, who both recognize each other to be serving the same purpose. The truce was hard won by the coven of wizards who founded the temple. Most demon hunters learn a little bit of light magic. There are many supernatural entities extant in the world, many of them malevolent. It is a constant risk for wizards because magic attracts demons.

It is understood among wizards that magic is a specific type of energy which can be harnessed and used to change the world by Willpower (intention) against natural law (conformity).

It is understood among wizards that some people, places and objects can hold magical energy.

Wizards lairs are typically found close to such places, while legend and logic describe how such power places are full of enchanted objects.

The academic wizards of the temple of light recognize that magical energy operates by the same law of balance as does all the rest of nature. They call this the Harmony. It’s simple law, the very first and most important rule learned by all acolyte wizards, is the law of balance.

What goes up, comes down.
Deviate too far in one direction, and all the rest of nature will push or pull you back in the other direction.

It will use whatever resources available, to maintain balance. It has been observed to include the minds and hearts of humans, and even the power of magic itself.

There are many competing theories based on this law and historic observations of it. Most of the wizards of light’s studies are into those lessons. For this reason, the school of light encourages its students to create personal records of their interactions, observations and dealings with magically related situations.

Reading and writing.


Sun/Day/Surface Runes:

There is a general script based on common tongue spoken by all, for recording data. Each symbol describes a phonetic sound. The many combinations are concepts (words) which are put together in an orthodox order as are spoken directions.


Moon/Night/Underground Runes:

There is a different script made of symbols for recording alchemical and magical data. It describes not phonemes and concepts but rather the elemental and essential nature, and the (re-)direction of the flow, of magical energy as it weaves and combines.

It is a process of mutation through combination of energies. These are described as essences, also sometimes as flavors, recognized as characteristics of the energy.

A braid has three sections. The middle section can have any number of sub-sections.

In, Twist, Out

Each stage requires 1 Quota to function (mildly).
The greater the quota, the more impact the ‘weave’ will have.
More ‘in’ for faster, wilder result.
More ‘out’ for bigger, longer result.
More ‘twist’ for more complicated weaves.

A weave is called a Cord. An accord is a mutual understanding, an agreement to believe the world to be a certain way, to operate around a certain direction.



Chapter Two : disbelief syndrome

This is a story about a little boy who believes in magic. He believes in magic because he has seen it to be real. To him, it is not a belief but a knowing. It is not a hope in something abstract being true, it is an observational and experienced thing. It is a practical day to day reality.

The little boy is not stupid. He knows that magic does not come easy. He must work for it. Work hard, even for a little bit of it. That is the value of magic. It is rare, to be treasured, to be protected. Magic is something secretive. Especially in the surface world of face value appearances where most people simply do not believe in Magic, because they are superstitious and delusional.

People reject it so strongly they would destroy it, and him, even simply because he believes in it. Most people around him in the community where he grew up believe magic to be a bad thing. They are afraid of its power, so they pretend it doesn’t exist.

He has made a big decision. He has decided most people are delusional idiots. So he has taken himself away and gotten himself into a situation wherein he does not have to deal with so many people most of the time. In many ways he is lucky.

For the most part, most people do not care about the loss of him as a number amongst their tribe. He was outsider; he was different. He did not fit in. He was to brainy by far and had a bad attitude toward conforming to normality. Actually, most people are glad he is gone and assume or hope he is dead.

The little boy has found some thing which most of them never will. They do not leave the villages, they do not explore the world and it’s wild parts. They think it strange anyone should want to. The little boy has found a whole, an old hole, an old hole surrounded by old gray stones and gnarly green tree’s.

At first he thought it to be an ancient well. In many ways it is. He had been drawn to the place by following his intuition one day, after receiving a beating from some of the local thugs in the village. The place feels good. It feels calm. It feels peaceful. It also shimmers with the vibrancy not found in most of the places of human occupation.

The boy descended into the whole using a rope ladder he made from nettles, and discovered the chamber. The chamber was not large, certainly it was taller than his head by a good few feet and certainly it was made from ancient stones, carved into shape and placed with the shaft of the hole directly above its centre.

The chamber is round and has alcoves in regular places at a regular distance apart. The alcoves are between larger, uncarved stones of a different type, used as pillars between arches rising up to form a domed ceiling. Each alcove is approximately eight feet wide, and three feet deep.

The chamber is surprisingly dry and clean considering the great age of the place. Whoever built it is long forgotten, the forest having grown up around it, a forest known to the villages as the deep woods. Nobody goes there. Wolves live there, and worse.

The boy is surprised no rainwater has gathered in here, no dirt has gathered on the flagstone floor. He is surprised the flagstones form the shape of a complex pattern, concentric circles containing other concentric circles and spiral shapes made by the shape of the cut stones. It is obviously a powerful place, a secret of the world.

At this time in his life, the boy did not know the chamber to be merely a lobby for a much larger complex, heavily guarded by magic, constructed by a wizard of old. To the boy it is simply The Cave.

At this time in his life, the boy did not know it to become his destiny, to inherit the underground lair and learn the wisdom and art of its builder.

At this time in his life, the boy was tired. He slept in an alcove marked by a glyph made of eldritch runes. The next day he woke, returned to the village and acquired as many candles as he could carry. Strangely, the cave seemed somehow to beckon to him, so he had no problems finding it again.



Chapter Three: using the users

“I’m not sure to ask. Girlfriends advise we don’t (discuss this with men). What is your opinion?” Surprisingly honest about the differences between exclusively female culture with the mixed gender culture. I admired her bridging that gap with me, the path of social healing.

Shrugs. “Its not my place to influence your decision. It’s necessary.” I reply, not wanting to accept any responsibility for her decisions and their consequences.

“It’s not happening to you.”

“Thank you for providing me with a coping mechanism. Is that how women reconcile it?”

“Some of them. You know how it is with convenience culture.” A reference to our relationship born of necessity, practicality, and the test of self whether we could overcome any difficulties this might raise by bonding more strongly with each other than with outside influences, while at same time a reminder that we are skin-deep and disposable due to necessity. the peculiar dynamic of our situation living next door to each other and having started dating from convenience. In the old days it would have been recognized as a  great stroke of divine fortune that our compatibilities outweigh our differences. In today's twisted culture it is seen as copping out, low self-esteem that we cannot find anyone better suited who is in probability much further away. Private ownership of vehicles enable that social shift in attitude. Outside influences.

“It is true that as a male I empathise with the dog having its nuts cut off. Perhaps a direct analogy is how women empathise with each other having ovaries removed. Beyond gender specifics, most humans of any gender empathise with most humans of any gender regarding sterilisation. But I also see why it is necessary; to not have a semi-feral dog running around biting people which will result in his own extermination.”

“It bit me while I was rescuing it from its previous owners.” Which was her choice to put herself at risk, she knows the risks and likelihoods. I did not say that out loud.

Instead I regurgitated back to her a variance on something she had told me to contextualize the dogs home life, why it had required being put into rescue. “Who, because of their violence toward animals should, arguably, also have their nuts cut off.”

“Can’t do that with Humans, not even pedophiles and rapists.”

“Although there is a call for it. Tamed, thankfully, by the even larger call for the punishing of vengeful false rape claims made by hate addicts.”

Gulp.

Silence. Ever the Humanitarian, knowing people get wrongfully punished for things they did not do based on hearsay and lies, social discrimination, prejudice and so forth. To mutilate innocent people is a worse crime than is lying about innocent people. My stance puts me at odds with the conformity of female-only culture toward general persecution of all males because of feminist extremism. I continued talking to fill in the silence. “You did right. By breaking the social taboo that men and women should not discuss these issues. And you did even more right by taking the decision to have the dogs nuts cut off.” Within the given context. I said it to help strengthen my girlfriends self-belief more than any other reason.

She justified her decision; “I did tell it; if it bites me I’d have its nuts off.”

“I’m sure it understood every word.”

“That’s not fair.”

“The dog will be happier when he’s not driven by hormones. He’ll have a better life because he’ll be friendlier and easier to live with.”

“He’s doing my head in. He howled non-stop for the first three nights I had him caged. I’m exhausted from lack of sleep and from three days of managing anger tension.”

“You’re not an angry person, at all. I know that. Three nights of being howled at by a rescue dog would challenge anyone. You don’t realise how awesome you are for doing this.” I live directly next door and had heard the howling. She was exaggerating but I let it go.

“Thank you.”

“It’s obvious what the right thing to do is, it needs doing. You took it on because you’re a hero. That dog will have a nice life as a result.”

“After he’s re-homed. In his forever home.”

“Better than sausages.”

“So you fancy meatballs for dinner?”

“I fancy you for dinner.”

“Big bad wolf.”

“Sweetmeats for you, beautiful. You’d have my balls off too if I upset you.”

“You know it. I can't make dinner tonight, too busy with, stuff. And your son is over, so...” unspoken, unexplained, vague to permit me to fill in the gaps with optimism or pessimism or simply experience. No point starting an argument about it when I'm being positive, to build and empower a positive relationship. "Got another call, have to take it. Sorry."

“Later babe.”

“Later.”


Joe was in a situation where his girlfriend did not have time for his son but she did have time to take on several extra major activities requiring heavy investment of time-focus-energy.

She was taking on too much and she was burning out, she was burning him out too.

She expected him to invest a lot of his time and energy into her projects, because she could not sustain the ones she already had without additional help. As soon as she had secured that help from him, she expanded into other areas.

Joe felt like he had been manipulated into being her energy donor. He was exhausted. The language of the day is ‘her narcissistic supply’ although to understand it through projecting into it the context of ‘the internet cult of narcissism’ is to miss the truth.

There was a lot of tension between herself and another woman, a married neighbor, who arrived in Joe's life at the same time. A mother of five who very much resented his girlfriend. She did not believe her to be a good influence on his son because she was not motherly. The mother was using this comparison to make herself feel more motherly. Joe observed this dynamic. He perceived it that his son and his relationship were being used as a lever by the motherly woman for her own ego purpose.

Joe ended contact with both women. As he picked up the pieces of his life, he came to recognize the situation for what it was. His energy no longer scattered, Joe was able to use it for himself, to sustain himself instead of burning out because of everybody else’s unwanted attention and demands on his life.

There were good points made all around and ultimately, Joe is rightfully the decision maker for his own life, despite several months of intrusion upon that Human Right. His point all along had been; the games, the paradigms and the prejudices which people bring with them, do affect those around them who want no involvement with those games, paradigms and prejudices.

Because in the world he is manifesting, Joe and his son are both learning to watch the situations and to recognize them for what they are. As a father training his child in psychology, using everybody around them who is full of themselves, as lessons for that. Including themselves.

To be able to detach from the energy games we are playing and which are played upon us, is a life skill. It is a survival necessity. To recognize them for what they are, individually and case specific but also within context of the bigger story being told, between the overlap, to see the macrocosmic lesson being taught at that time.

This stepping back, requires zero ego. It requires an ability to analyze the macrocosmic story, identifying it from the pieces, to understand how it’s all playing out, for what has actually happened there.

There is always this level of perception in every situation. Attaining and maintaining, sustaining the peace within and the state of mind to be able to perceive it accurately, once having analyzed; is the path of zen enlightenment. It is not possible to do accurately that while playing games. By games; being full of egotistical purpose, involving others on those strategies.

Knowing that the people involved would probably take offense were they to be made aware of this insight, as their ego response, when they realize their stance in the situation only occurred so that the macro-story could be lived. It is a strike against free will. Egotists hate that.

The uncomfortable feeling when we clash against other people, is in part because of natural friction, is in part because manifesting different versions of reality which are not so compatible, and is in part the uncomfort of not being able to see the whole story yet despite living out roles in it.

A reminder that we are ants in a hive, involved in energy systems which control us in ways we are blind to until hindsight. Systems which control our attitudes, beliefs, minds, undermine our free will to choose our own.

We are used by fate. If it is possible to become freed from fate, recognition of where and how it affects us is fundamentally important to achieving such freedom.

Whether we have to seize it, or whether the insight into this is concordant with attaining, deserving and earning it, being able to accept it gracefully as a real and valid part of the human experience instead of egotistically rejecting it.

The people who required Joe as a tool in their ego games to manifest their own self-worth within their own paradigm, no longer have him as an energy source. They feel deflated, a little confused, while he feels empowered. It is not vampirism on his part; it is a return to balance.

The projection of will, to dominate, assertively; is a left-brain mistake. Only when we yield to observation without judgement can we gain true clarity regarding the macrocosm and why it is we must live through such events as shape us.

It is all there for our benefit, to help us evolve. It must be step-by-step process because of the following Creed:

Ascension through balance, balance through Ascension.



Chapter Four: ‘nother thing coming

“There is a nother type of wizard, not on that list.” Said the boy in a black voice of certainty.

Nobody answered. Nobody answered because they waited to hear if the boy to explain. An anticipatory pressure, dense silence created by his voice, needed filling. His statement had created a void, in the school yard, in the students minds.

In such a void there are three possible outcomes. The energy needs channeling. Either somebody must object to the statement, to redirect the flow of energy, or the boy continues speaking, or else something or someone breaks as the energy earths itself violently.

The pressure built. Minds, emotions, held in tension. The moment needed changing. The stress peaked. The boy pushed it to its limit, all the time sensing, observing, learning, controlling. The boy continued speaking.

“Service to self. A Selfish wizard. A wizard who works for their own personal gain with no morality. The one to Take. The one to go for power and glory, control and wealth. The one to use magic to get what they want from life without caring about others. For whatever reason they justify their course. Wizards who use excuses such as ‘the end justifies the means’, and wizards who use excuses such as ‘the means justifies the end’, whatever that end is and if they even care. Wizards who do not believe that the nature of reality is to seek balance. Those who gamble against what the school of light assumed to be the controlling factor of our experience.”

The silence which followed was a different type. Contemplative. The teacher dismissed the class without retort. The teacher reported the boys statement to the head and the head summoned the boy to his personal office.

“There is a very good reason we do not encourage those sorts of wizards. We do not wish to fill peoples minds up with the possibility they could be such a thing themselves.”

“With respect sir, I anticipate that most of the wizards to be found out there in the world, are specifically that type. Whether they claim to be pure to the teachings of the school, or otherwise. There are so many popular folk legends of evil wizards using magic to become powerful over society; and there are so many legends of why they are a problem for communities. Most people think that most wizards are demon possessed. That is for a reason. It is because it is their experience of most wizards!”

“Yes child, and that is precisely the reason why the school of light was found it in the first place. You have to look around, not only in and within the school but in the communities generally. What is the practical experience? Especially in cosmopolitan places where people are open to new ideas and the shifting balance of trade is the necessary mindset. You will discover that for the most part, school of light wizards are welcome and popular. This is why we have such strict lessons encouraging students to maintain that level of optimism. This is why we teach our cause, so that we may influence the opinions of others.”

“I understand sir.”

“Good. There is so much more. In time you will learn, that which the academy deems appropriate for your progress. Best let’s not rush things. With responsibility comes ... now what was it?”

“I understand sir. The academy only teaches students that which we can handle, and we must prove ourselves before being permitted more dangerous knowledges.”

“Knowledges which could be dangerous in the wrong hands, were they to be misapplied. Yes, I can see now that you understand this concept. Whether you are fit to live by its wisdom is yet another matter.”

“In time, master. I can see your wisdom is based from fear that a selfish and tricky wizard may manipulate you into teaching that which is advanced beyond a students capability. Or that such teachings may be corrupted and used for nefarious purpose.”

“It would serve you well not to dwell upon such fancies, boy.”

“Nevertheless sir, I have found my way through appropriate leverage to gain audition with you personally with which to discuss such matters.”

“There are appropriate channels already in place, I am timetabled to meet with all students on regular basis.”

“With respect, sir: we have bypassed the regular schedule. Perhaps it is not so much that you are testing me in this meeting, than I am testing you. A test necessary before placing trust into the other, by the ancient, natural way of two individuals meeting as equals, with growing respect of the others intelligence; and wit.”

“You are a most interesting student, boy.”

“I speak words for your recollection of our first private meeting, sir. There will be many others in the years to follow.”
“Good heart then. It seems you must decide whether you are a selfish wizard or simply a tricky one.”

“As must we all, surely. Good heart, sir.”

The warmth in their hearts glew, an appropriate word from the old tongue which fell out of fashion longe before this story was writ. Past tense of glowing is glowed, resonant with glowered and owed, two concepts certainly out of place without the fullness of understanding language properly. Wizards full of spells must spell correctly, even against the ignorance of the mainstream idiomatic understanding of a language they inherited without owning and bringing forth to life.

The wizards hearts glew because they stuck together in accord, they struck up a chord. Thus hearty, the art of hearths fire filled the cold and empty void the boy had previously cast. The boy had showed the schools high master and school alike the extent of his poetry, and a few around the facility were sharp enough to recognize it in the context with which it was intended.

The term began on that exciting tone. Most of the students were not of mind to take note nor borrow attention from the boy who had challenged them all on that very first day. In this, the boy established rapidly both an awe inspiring reputation and unchallenged insight into his peers.

One by one his masters fell below the intensity of his wit. As time passed, they fell also to his will.



Chapter Five : rescue and exploitation

“Nothing is done without reason.” 

A local freelance dog-pound told freelance dog-rescuer Helydd that there was a dog needed rescuing. Helydd does dog rescue, it is her self-identity trip, her id to use Freudian/Jungian psychology terminology, her idiom through which she gains empowerment energy. It feeds into the super-ego’s calculus and conditioning when the idiomatic self-image is satisfied.

Helydd claims to love dogs, animals generally, prefers them to humans. It upsets her when an animal is in distress and she is savvy enough to do something about it, animal rescue. They are being more puppies farms in this county than in any other county in the nation, there are always dogs in distress and the pounds are always full of unwanted dogs needing re-homing.

On this occasion, a local living on shit-street acquired a young male dog to protect him and his girlfriend. She needed it after all the abuse she had been through, to have that unconditional love from her protector, cross breed puppy. The dog did it’s job, it did what dogs are supposed to do, it protected its owners from people who were a threat to them.

On this basis, when somebody who intended to cause problems for the couple reported the dog as being aggressive because they had told the person in no uncertain terms to leave their property, the dog now eighteen months old, growled and barked and was scary.

The dog pound contacted Helydd and asked her to check it out. She arrived, the owner is perceived as a threat because she wanted to re-home the dog, the dog guard at them by growling and barking. As is its purpose.

At that time, the dog was well fed open it on the cheap food which most people feed their dogs on, especially people who can only afford to live on shit street where a guard dog is necessary to protect from dodgy neighbors. There was barely enough evidence to do a forced re-homing of the dog.

It took her two weeks to analyze the situation because she was busy with other things. Mostly, that her income was less than her outgoing’s. In this time, the troublemaker made a second report to the dog pound to cause further trouble for the couple, the kennels contacted Helydd again. She returned, took the dog without consent and put it in the cage in her own kitchen.

The guy was not home, only the dogs young, frightened female owner was present, verses Helydd on a full on anger mission, bristling with hate and the dehumanization attitude toward someone who, to protect her own vested interests, Helydd necessarily perceived as an abuser. The dog growled and barked at Helydd. Helydd interpreted this as sufficient to re-home the dog. Its owner refused to sign the paperwork legally consenting to give the dog to Helydd.

“It’s my dog! You are stealing my dog! She is stealing my dog!” She cried, distraught that her dog was being forcibly taken.

Helydd had intended to keep the dog for one night. She contacted the kennels to tell them she now had the dog. The kennels advises they were full at the moment, not because they were full but because they now wanted nothing to do with the situation. It would have been entirely different had Helydd secured the signature of transfer of ownership. The present legal situation is dog-theft, not dog-rescue. 

With in this field, it is very common that anger and high emotions mean such thing as a signature is not always immediately forthcoming. There is a window during which all parties must see that what is being done, is being done for the best interest of the animal regardless of human emotional responses.

This is the leverage necessary within which window, for people involved to change their minds and accept the right course of action as befits the actual situation. 

Joe was dating Helydd at the time. She fiercely warned him to stay away from the dangerous dog in case it bit anyone. Joe grew up with dogs, his own mother had also been involved in dog rescue. He knows dogs inside out almost as well as his role-model Mowgli with whom he had identified as a child before encountering fantasy books with wizards. 

Joe immediately identified that the dog was not as dangerous as Helydd was telling him, in fact it was terrified. It’s behavior was not part of an aggressive wild animal but that of a traumatized animal not knowing what the hell was happening to it, having been seized from his familiar people, environment, routines, smells and suddenly surrounded by a pack of other strange dogs owned Helydd, two of whom actively wanted to bite it for entering their space.

In the short window of time during which Helydd had the dog, he was shut in a cage. Helydd let it out twice a day for a poop and a pee, took it on a total of three walks, complained ferociously about how frustrating it is having to look after it. A young male dog, especially one with what Joe's mother had often described as hybrid-vigor requires at least an hour of walking a day to keep it healthy in mind, body and spirit.

Joe quickly began to realize that the situation with the dog was iffy. The paradigm Helydd was projecting surrounding the dog did not bare much relation with the actual situation. For somebody who proclaims herself to be a dog expert, Joe wondered why she had not seen this herself. It dawned on him that she was playing a different game. Eventually, from non-judgemental observation, he had sufficient data to establish that she was exploiting the owners for money.

“How’s your day?” He asked.

“Shit. They want their fucking dog back.”

He had known that all along. “Are you going to give him back?”

“I might have to. I can’t afford to keep another fucking mutt, even if he was being mistreated.” Unusual bad language from her especially toward dogs; revealing her stress and anger at the situation.

Helydd did not know that while she had been at work, he had used the key she had given him to sneak into her house and play with the dog, feeling sorry for it, simply so it had some human contact and was not locked in a cage going mad. Joe found him to be of a very good natured temperament; Frank was the sweetest of dogs, glad for any attention he was given. He always growled at Helydd simply because she was such a bitch to him. He growled at her dogs because they bit him at any opportunity they were given.

“See how he doesn’t fit into the pack!” She explained after one minute of attempting to socialize Frank with her own dogs (all of whom also came from rescue and had their own personality issues), during which two of them had bitten him. Frank attempted to defend himself and she interpreted that as his overt aggressive nature, shut him in the cage and booked an appointment to have him castrated. “They want him back. I told them they can have him when they pay the vet fee plus boarding fee of fifteen pound a night for the time he’s been here.” Quite a sum of money involved because it all adds up.

“Did they want him castrated?”

“Don’t matter, it’s done now.” This is the logic she uses to describe herself as being practical, realistic and not held back by dogma. Anyone who disagrees with her stance is therefore impractical, unrealistic and dogmatic, to her way of assessing situations.

Frank was still wearing a funnel to prevent him being able to chew at his stitches before they healed when Helydd handed him back over to his owner, who was distraught at what had happened to him. She had come up with some of the money and agreed to pay Helydd in installments for what she still ‘owed’.

“Prime bitch, see.” Hyelydd stated, gleeful to have gotten the problem dog off her back and improved her own financial situation for the time-being since having secured regular cash-in-hand payments for the near-future. “Shit I forgot to give them back Franks sack of cheap-shit dog food. Oh they’ll get some more. People should feed their dogs raw meat diets like I do.”

“Not everyone can afford to, or is able to source it. We discussed this before. Cheap dry food from the corner store is more convenient.”

“We agreed to disagree because we are superior people to be able to do that.” She assertively summarised from a previous conversation she had inflicted upon him. Actually, she had agreed to disagree and had made the decision for the both of them. Joe had merely nodded to keep the peace.

Joe said nothing. Joe was disgusted. He knew damn well that the people from whom Helydd had dog-napped and abused their pet, had a legal case against her which would stand in court.

Her reputation consisted of a combination of a face-value public image of being the canine-rescue lady who cares about animals, mixed with her not being somebody to fuck about with, because she assumes power to step into peoples lives and induce trauma up on them. The motivation for which is profit, personal financial gain.

Helydd uses the leverage of she is ‘seen to be doing the right thing’ to defend society from abusers. Nobody in society confronts this or questions it. Nobody recognizes that the ones who she is calling animal abusers are actually her victims, nobody identifies the rescuer is actually the abuser.

People are too afraid to stand up to bullies, especially when there are animals involved. She gets away with it because everybody wants to do the right thing, within context of her dominant narrative which is that she the hero is the one doing it for the good of all. She is rewarded by being told that she did the right thing, even putting herself out of her comfort zone to do so.

There is always more than one side to every story. The dog is traumatized. Its owners are traumatized. They have been forced into financial debt to her, a form of slavery, for things which they did not want to happen and were pressured into under threat of being reported to the authorities for animal abuse and believed because of her reputation and the position she has established in Society. 

To comprehend the situation in its entirety, it must be understood that there is zero evidence that they have ever abused an animal. Helydd acted independently on a report made by someone who was out to cause trouble. Someone bad who the dog had protected its owners from by snarling, good dog, doing its job. 



Footnote on pronunciation and meaning of Welsh words and names.

Welsh ‘dd’ is pronounced similar to English ‘th’.

For example ‘the’ (soft, warm, earthy, informal) is closer in accuracy than example ‘think’ (harsh, cold, airy, formal) although within Welsh language the inflection factor is imperative in conveying a practical approximation of meaning.

Heledd was a seventh century princess whose poems, Canu Heledd (Song of Heledd) mourn the invasion of Powys by the kingdom of Mercia (later became “England”).

Helydd is ‘estuary’ in Medieval Welsh (differs astonishingly from modern Anglicized Welsh). Hyledd is an accepted variant.
Relates to ‘hela’; ‘to hunt’.

Relates to the name Hedd; ‘blessed peace’, derived from a bardic reference to the sun's rays penetrating the mists in the valleys of Meirionydd, now Gwynedd.


Chapter Six: curious yellow

“A wand chooses its wizard.” Mr Ollivander, from the Harry Potter saga


Being the sharpest pencil in the box has its advantages. From the start, the righting and the drawing is crisp and fresh.

Symbolically it depicts sharp wit. This has power to cut a swathe through the dingy dirge of lesser attentions, lost to regular humdrum of distraction by their own confusions.

Joe awoke and discovered one from a box of new and unused pencils he had previously left at her house, resting nonchalantly on his table amidst doodles, scrivenings, shavings and smudge. He reconciled there to be three possibilities.

First, he had put it there himself and forgotten doing so. Unlikely. To achieve that he would have had to snuck into her house and retrieved it, and forgotten all that too. He had no key to pass through her locked door.

Second, ghosts or goblins did it. Possible. He certainly has had experience of both things sufficient to know both as real, despite ignoramus scornfully rejecting reality in favor of their collectively reaffirmed delusions, based as they are on lack of experience beyond their own exclusively urban routines.

Third, she had snuck in at some time since yesterday evening and placed it there.

Joe knows a pencil to be both a wand and a key. This particular one, curious yellow with a core of graphite and a rubber knob on the end, reminded him and thus is bonded energetically with a curious yellow key which he had recently pushed through her letterbox, it’s fob having been the only appropriately sized cord with which to have tied a map scroll.

Thus their peculiar relationship grew in mysterious ways and on unspoken levels. He puzzled how best to approach the topic with her, not wishing to anger nor confuse her with his puzzle, yet feeling himself to be already caught up in some strange game she is playing.

“She has a whole packet of those,” he cognitized. Cognited be like ignited. Searching for the appropriate word. Cogged. The cogs of his mind turned the way curious keys might. “Yet she returned only one. Is this to be one at a time until the packet runs out? What game is she playing?” He did not know how to begin processing the riddle. It felt intrusive, yet at the same time exciting; she felt it permissible for her to do such a thing.

It took him outside of his typical world and back into a wider one with a whole other system of rules, if any. It showed him a secret side of her nature, dangerous; because it is outside safe and social conventions deemed appropriate public behavior.

She certainly had the ability, not only in his door being usually unlocked and open but also she previously had her own key to it before returning it to him after deciding to officially end their relationship. She could have gotten herself another key cut which he does not know about.

She would of course deny all knowledge of having done any of these things, even if she had.

The logical mode of thought from age of reason rationalism and scientific process results in conclusion that she is playing mind games, destabilizing his sanity. Such mode of function discludes all potentials that ghosts and goblins might after all be the cause, because it irrationally denies their existence. Such is the community within which we exist.

The fantasy children’s authority JK Rowling coined the term ‘muggles’ to describe those un-blessed with magical awareness and resultant ‘magical thinking’; a phrase used by muggles to describe a type of delusion insanity and in doing so to persecute any with wider perceptions and insights into worlds beyond conventional brainwashing.

“She will deny it and people will proclaim me to be crazy and deluded, that I am evidently both imbalanced and hostile toward her. They will advise us to stay away from each other for both our sakes.” He decided. “Which does very little indeed to further my comprehension of this mystery.” Thus he must approach the situation in another manner altogether.

By taking his mind outside the normal world, by playing a dangerous and borderline criminal game upon him, even after having dumped him as a partner, Joe recognized that she is playing control games with him at the same time as waking him up to a more subtle reality.

The Sorcerer Don Carlos Castaneda had mentioned such behaviours involved within the sorcerers world, the hidden worlds of true nature’s. The vixen had revealed her fox-like soul to him at last after months of sharing only the idiom of her light-hearted public image and calling it partnership.

Joe contemplated the zen budo teachings; the best thing to do is nothing. It correlates with his Sorcerer training; to perceive truth, observe without projecting. Cognitive bias is the enemy of clarity, of knowing.

Regarding she had taught him much with this simple act of defiance against normality, he forgave her the intrusion. She was training him whether he asked for it or not. A gift then. She had given him a wand. A gift of power.

My Ollivanders wisdom, a wand chooses its wizard. Through the device of external reality, involving even people into its peculiar nature, people who probably could not always justify their own actions in terms of logic because half the time they don’t even know themselves why they do the things they do. People who accept the world to be that way even despite what rationalists project, having irrationally assumed about nature and reality that it is an exclusively rational thing.

Doing what comes naturally, he picked up the pencil and wrote. He wrote about the events confusing his mind. About his conflicted feelings. He wrote about a woman who is into witchcraft and wizardry, with whom he has recently had an affair which by all accounts is a continuing affair. To judge her by actions (playing long-term games with him, life games, mind games) or to judge her by her words (finishing the relationship as a public partnership).

He is concerned at the level of abuse from this dominatrix and her controlling behavior. He contemplates whatever she expects as retaliation. He knows she is playing games with and within herself, using him as a buffer in that, for whatever she is trying to figure out. He knows that to be how witches work. Non-accountability for her own activities, no responsibility for her actions because all that is easily deniable as implausible.

She expects him to react, to judge him by his actions, to test him. She is playing him. It’s a game he has not consented to play. She has a dark psychology and expects him to rise to the challenge of meeting her with the dark side of his own psychology. She has revealed her shadow, brave of her, trusting; she hopes to get to know his shadow.

So it has become a long-term relationship even while officially being over. He accepts this level because he has to. She has made the choice and given him no choice. She has confessed to being a covert operative, in such way as there is no evidence and anything he says to accuse her of it, is easily rebuffed as his madness.

Clever, as in c-lever, she is creating leverage. Social manipulation. This is not at all the same thing as ‘intelligence’ nor is it ‘decency’. Thus, searching for information as she is, in a cowardly or devious way (as in devices), she has responded to the map-scroll he placed on her.

An inverted blueprint. She asked while they had been dating if she could have the very first image from the printing press he had bought to start his career. He made good on his promise despite their having split up, because he is honest.

He’d stayed up all night working on the design, a particular configuration of energetic flow with meanings only a polymath scholar studied in multiple disciplines could know beyond facade. A spell to reveal both shadow and light, he had made a vortex generator. One which follows the creed of his lineage; “ascension through balance, balance through ascension”.

At face value in the muggle world it was a crude piece of art. Hers was unique and perfect, the dark-to-light ascending gradient appropriate for the mechanism apparently an imbalance in the tension of the press. As befits folk-craft. Easily overlooked as an accident, technically purposefully made so by a master.

He had wrapped it with a curious yellow key, albeit a plastic yellow toy from a children’s game. Using whatever resources are conveniently at hand. As befits folk-craft.

She had told him once she doesn’t enjoy poetry. Apparently she is caught in his, as words written with her pencil to invoke imagery and concepts to the imagination, are telling. Apparently he’s caught in hers also.

This level of game...

She alone knows the truth of whether she did this, or super-nature, or his own forgetful nature. She alone has the answer.

What she is unaware of, is: this is not the first time he has been through this particular cycle. He knows this level already. In a previous relationship, a very similar thing occurred. It is apparently to his perspective and perception, quite a common behavioral pattern within the situation of relationship break-up.

Seven or eight years ago, another ex had pushed a similar artifact through his letterbox. On that occasion, a black leather collar with an inverted crucifix as key.

Patterns are playing themselves out here over time. Involving into themselves, the lives of individuals aware or unaware of that level of experience by their place within the greater scheme of things.

By study of the symbols indicative of knowledge, can we ascend and rise to know. Mystical Orders are founded based upon such principles.

Joe recalls from long ago, advice from a high priest; “covens form themselves when stories must be told by the living of our lives and by the being of our souls.”

The heart is the seat of the soul. It is an egg, when cracked like a seed: life grows. Birthing pains beyond mind which we run from or face, to integrate and grow. Both the hearts pain and the mind, we run from or face, to grow.

Hearts filthy lesson is the ones we Love are the ones who hurt most. This is necessary and built into our experience of living. When we understand this purely, no words can express that insight. Some necessary delusions come close by explaining it in more idealistic ways. Love is the most powerful force we know, as such we have to handle it delicately. It holds us in form even as it tears us apart. All else is comfortable numbness. Going into the madness is the only way to stay sane. We have to, otherwise we go mad.

“Marriage is the sharing of a world to the exclusion of all others.” Sign in Marriage Registry Office, South Wales



Chapter Seven : social tetris

“There's messages in every game. Like Pac-Man. Do you know what PAC stands for? P-A-C: "program and control." He's Program and Control Man the whole things a metaphor, he thinks he's got free will but really he's trapped in a maze, in a system, all he can do is consume, he's pursued by demons that are probably just in his own head and even if he does manage to escape by slipping out one side of the maze, what happens? He comes right back in the other side. People think it's a happy game, it's not a happy game, it's a fucking nightmare world and the worst thing is it's real and we live in it. It's all code. If you listen closely you can hear the numbers. There's a cosmic flowchart that dictates where you can and where you can't go. I've given you the knowledge. I've set you free. Do you understand?” Colin Ritman, Bandersnatch, Netflix


Social Tetris is a game where the players are all working to strategies, whether they admit it to themselves and to other people or not. It is left brain dominant social interaction. All decisions made in real time are based on achieving specific situations. Existing situations and the people around you are used as leverage to achieve your end. The strategies are recognized as grids comparable with Tetris shapes. It is a form of cognitive bias, which affects the players perceptions and interactions.

This method of functioning debilitates individuals and thus communities from achieving clarity of perception. To observe reality as it really is, the primary goal of being fully aware.

Rather than left brain dominant thought structures projected externally, such individuals rely on intuition as the major faculty, flowing through right brained creative thinking.

These types of thoughts are most commonly found amongst artists, rarely if at all amongst bureaucrats.

Such an individual is on a completely different system of functioning and awareness to the players of social Tetris.

Their typical reaction is to alienate that individual by insulting him or her; because abstractions and non-forms, do not fit into their rigid structure.

It is the nature of these rigid structure thinkers to believe them selves self-righteous and dominant over the sensory nature of feelers.

Social Tetris is “‘win versus lose’ mentality”. It’s players do not recognize that ‘win versus lose’ is all lose because any of the benchmarks are for status, not for the community and personal spiritual development.

Capitalism does keep people trapped into lower level thinking and syncing (synchronizing) where social Tetris occurs.

The only people who ultimately win, all those who do not play win versus lose. Instead they play, all in this together. Left brain mentality cannot do that. It is by its very nature competitive.



Chapter Eight : tba



Chapter Nine : beyond limitations

In the Forest it is calm.

Forest calm is not at all the same thing which occurs when an urban person walks into a forest and it all goes quiet. At that time, every living thing in the forest is hiding from a potential threat. The urban person, the potential threat, does not see the forest.

There is an expression; ‘cannot see the wood for the trees’ which means ‘too much going on to be able to see a situation clearly’. To condense all that into one word; stress.

Today the forest is not stressed. It is calm.

In a clearing, a circle of stones.
In the circle, a tunnel.
From the tunnel, a boy.

Today in the forest, its custodians are meeting with their friend for the first time. The forest completely accepts that passing. It is natural, it is for the good of all. The friend has been accepted by the forest for he lives in peace with all its ways. As a consequence, the guardians are accepting him. They have come to the circle as a meeting place and because it is his home.

There are many creatures in the forest, of flesh and blood, of wood and sap, of mineral, of wind and rain, who heard the wolves call.

There are many creatures in the forest, who are watching, eagerly as the call was answered. The wolves called, the boy came. It is natural. He belongs.

Always with the wolves, the ravens. The two work together in many and mysterious ways. Ravens eyes white as moonlight. Both species of guardian, messengers, survivors, wise, killers, magical, natural, free in spirit while locked in cycles of archetype in form and function.

Both are sigma species with dynamics around both alpha hierarchy and circle-of-equality; both apex predators and scavengers who will kill their own where necessary to protect all. Those trusted by the Great Spirit to be decision makers.

Responsibility is respectability.

The ravens came, and the wolves followed. And the boy was waiting.

The boy was waiting for he is a forest creature also. He’s born into human form and must contend with human issues. And yet he knows the deeper truths, had forsaken the urban delusions so as to grow into his full potential, in harmony with the world beyond the limitations.

It is for this reason the forest trusts him, has accepted him and shares with him its truths.


Chapter Ten: face value

“His dad did not want him.” She said.

While this is true, it is not the whole truth. It is a spell: the perfect words to be said to distract a person’s way of thinking along a certain specified route, without further explaining the deeper truth which sets the whole situation into a different context. So while it is the truth, it is also being used as a distraction. It is not a lie although it is a manipulation.

His dad did not want him for two reasons. First and foremost, his biological father did not know he existed. Secondly, by the time his biological father came to know he existed, another man had already stepped into the role of being his dad.

That other man is of the believe that he is himself the biological father. This however is a lie. He believes this because the mother told him she wanted his child, slept with him, and then nine months and two weeks later she gave birth to the boy. What he does not know is what happened in the meantime. After having slept with him she took an abortion pill, slept with the actual biological father a week later, and conceived by him.

The child is a bastard because he does not know his biological father. This is the proper original use of the word bastard and is not an insult. Relates to the word bystander, and by-steed (stealth).

The biological father stood by and watched as another man raised his son believing the boy to be his own. Certainly both men are genetically related somewhere through history, as they look very much like one another so much that it is difficult to tail. The people to be introduced to them both as brothers, people would sincerely believe it.

At the time of this happened, the biological father was living with the best friend of the mother, although the mother wanted him. To have acted upon it would have been to betray her best friend. Then she met the deluded father who believes himself to be the biological father, and decided to use him so that she could have the best of both worlds. A child by the man she wanted, without upsetting her best friend who is also ignorant of what happened.

The man who believes himself to be the boys father, very much wants to be a father. He wants it to be his own son, his own flesh and blood. He does his absolute best for the boy to provide for him, educate him, protect him, support him, counsel him, nurture him and give him learning experiences. He has proved himself to be an excellent father. He deserved more children.

The mother decided that reducing the amount of distractions in that man’s life so that he could focus more entirely on being a better father, justified the next step of her agenda.

She told her best friend what happened. The best friend was so upset that her partner had betrayed her and that her best friend but traitor, that she left. Next, the mother told everybody and anybody who would listen that the man who believed himself to be the biological father, had raped her. He had not, but he could not prove he had not anymore than she could prove he had. People generally believed it, and is nobody in the community wanted anything to do with a rapist or even somebody accused of such, they shunned him entirely. Through the next decades, that mans only friend was the young boy he believes to be his son.

Occasionally a woman what happened along who recognized the man not to be a rapist, who recognize the mother to be a liar playing manipulative control games. Such woman is immediately a threat to the mothers strategy. Therefore, the mother find other ways to get rid of her.

Any woman strong enough to put up with that must also be strong enough to put up with raising somebody else’s child. The vast majority of women do not want that. Those who might, certainly do not want a rapist or accused rapist.

Having had to fight through the legal system for residency of the boy who he believed to be his son, the mans dedication to the boy increased.

The mother justifies that she has made him a better father. Which is what he wanted along. That the child is not biologically his is a small oversight. To her way of thinking it is a worthwhile compromise so she can know that she has bought a child into the world by the man she wanted all along and had him raised by an excellent father.

That she has exploited everybody in the process of achieving this, to her way of thinking proves her superiority.

The mother actively seeks out any women who do or might find the man attractive, or attempts to support him in any way, targets them and explains to them how traumatized she was by living with him and what a nasty bit of work he is, how unfortunate she is to have a court order instructing her that she must give up her son into his care for half the week and therefore still have to occasionally dealings with him. She receives a lot of sympathy and support from her supply network as result of this. Those who can see her for what she is, avoid her. They avoid him too and the child, discouraging their own kids and parents of other kids to also avoid them all.

This became one man’s journey into Zen. Living alone, other than the days which a court order instructed that the boy must live with him, because after she left them both the mother took the father to court for shared residency, the man studied.

Surrounding this, in the society within which we are forced to live, under the rule; is the Social Services who are in law into themselves and are willing to manipulate any people and situations necessary to achieve their agenda. At face value, the duty of care is to protect children from abusive parents. In practicality, they get paid money to do this and so it is in their own vested financial interest to provide sufficient cases of alleged parental abuse within the community, regardless of the practical realities at ground level. As a result they target 'vulnerable families', a term intended to mean one thing yet which in practical terms it is used to denote those who can be exploited financially through The Societies system. All which is required is a small lie in the right place. Which happens to be on the paperwork to make it legal, and to persuade a court judge. Which happens to be fraud but that is overlooked in the name of protecting children, perceived to be a greater crime.

Those living been in such a community know this. The mother knows this. She knew she would get away with agenda because of the pressure from Social Services on the people around. To cause stress for her best friends family, she repeatedly reported them for abuse. The tension was an additive factor in why the man she wanted and her best friend split up so that she would be able to conceive by him.

At the same time, because The Societies Social Services then manipulated the family and committed fraud on paper, putting all of the children into care and making a lot of money from doing so, the social services recognized the mother to be useful to them and turned a blind eye to her own reported abuses; protecting her and enabling her to get away with it, because they owed her a favor. It was all done anonymously except for the individuals who knew, knew each other well and the individuals who have been duped, reeling, wondered what the hell had hit them.

“His dad did not want him.” She said, but explained none of the background.

Therapist Anarawd listened. She silently adjust herself in relation to an emotional reaction invoked by the clients words. Anna had been listening to and observing her for several weeks. She had recognized the woman to be a slippery manipulator, investing a great amount of energy in attempts to recruit the counselor into her scheme, to secure an energetic support for her mental control paradigm and its grid-work.

In reaction the counselor said, non-committedly and for the principle an apparently wise response; “What you don’t know doesn’t hurt you.”


Footnote on pronunciation and meaning of Welsh words and names.

The Welsh name Anarawd means 'undisgraced', 'free of shame'.
Compare Angharad (Ang-haa-rad), meaning 'much loved'.



Chapter Eleven : different dreamings

Who we once were.

Generations were raised with the same system of morality and manners. It was as they described it, civilized. Toward the end of the last century and the early decades of this one, all that is dissolved.

As I go through more and more life experiences with more and more people, I recognize that the survival skill set I need to cope with how people are now, is very different from the system of morality and manners of previous generations. Attempting to survive the world of today by that system of morality and manners, is suicide. Such a person is exploited at every step of the way, from every direction.

Who we have to be now.

Instead, one has to wise up and recognize that mostly everybody out there is playing games, energy exploitation strategies disguise behind a façade of public image. Anybody gullible and easily led is shark food. The creed by which the mainstream lived in days of old, has gone.

Human relationship with trust has changed. We can no longer trust others to conform to common decency. Yet Humans still need trust. We learn to trust our intuition instead of words spoken by others to lead us into a path of their choosing.

Different Dreamings

The way of the wolf is a duality because what it means for the pack is different to what it means for those lost in the woods. Those lost in the woods believe naively the stories of the nature of the wolf as symbol for a merciless savage. To them it is a monster, the apex because they do not have cold, emotionless, predatory, sharks in their inland environment. Unlike we who regularly encounter that attitude in the modern urban climate.

The wolf is survivor, warm, soft and compassionate, trusting its tribe and living by its intuition when alone and it’s wits when with others. It hunts to live, is a predator but it also protector, it loves and nurtures, mammalian.

Consciously re-introducing shamanism as context, in an appropriate way, into broken communities; because with foresight, the evident collapse of empirical systems and mainstream cultural reversion towards free-for-all primitivism, piracy and banditry, exploitation and corruption, needs be re-aligned through basic principles for general comprehension.

Every generation faces this challenge. The sharks are evolving; fast. Indeed they are running the show. Those upper echelons of social hierarchies and their mindless zombie grunt agents unquestioning morality in pursuit of power and wealth, did not get there by being compassionate. They got there by manipulation, a black empire built upon murder. We pay them taxes, they enforce their rule upon us, and if we don’t, they traumatize, fine and jail us or worse. 

Joe has always been a lone wolf, occasionally throwing his lot with a tribe of mutual interests (development of shamanic consciousness) or being latched onto by a vampiric sex demon and used as a personal energy and money donor until he was bled dry and unable to feed her, she flew into rage at his uselessness.

It had become his major relationship pattern until the point he recognized it as the underplaying structure and while hiding out alone, licking his wounds, worked on reinforcing his self-esteem and what he has got to become for stronger establishing of personal boundaries. Most of his talents involve the yin energy of yielding as opposed to the yang energy of asserting. By nature a provider, seeking to help altruistically, he always attracted those needy who saw him as a soft touch and an easy target.

Joe is astonishingly independent, widely experienced and able to teach others. His problem is that his life experienced based teachings are so far outside of the doctrine enforced by the static, dominant culture and its delusional agents, they generally reject and resent him strongly as an outsider to them. State workers would gleefully label him a non-conformist without anybody ever explaining to what it was he is supposed in their minds to be conforming to. He dedicated a great amount of time in attempts to identify to what is it he supposed to conform? Ultimately he results the correct answer to be, gullible enough to do what they say unquestioningly. Joe regarded that to be not evolving, and chose instead the path of spiritual development as opposed to capitalist greed and acceptance of lies in place of insight into deeper truth. 

His psyche reviews describe him as dissociative because he recognizes through transactional analysis the patterns of cognition they are relying on, to be delusions. It is human nature that if somebody points out to you that you are delusional, you are less likely to immediately accept it and more likely to reject that person so as to protect your entrenched position. This is not entirely the fault of the individual zombie, because of the cultural conditioning enforced upon all of us from an early age.

Joe retreats into his cave and he writes down on paper with a curious yellow pencil, all of the thoughts and revelations pouring through his mind at any given time. He has discovered it is the only way to get those overwhelming thoughts out of his mind, other than meditation. Meditation is good for the self, but it is not productive. Writing the shit down is productive because the information can be shared with the community. It can be stored for decades so that even if the person who needs the information is not born yet, they will still be able to access it at some point in the future. Because it now exists in the world, because Joe bothered to write down the thoughts in his head. 

Joe's sense of satisfaction and personal identity as a writer is variably accepted as an honest occupation by the mainstream culture, thus he finds some acceptance by them in his lip-service toward the conformity. His books are worth money, and so he is creating "goods of value" and enriching the cultural economy. Which is a lot more than wage-slaves generally do. For this he is both blessed and cursed because their envy towards him outweighs any positive feelings they have towards him. The amount of respect the majority of people have for him depends entirely on how much money he makes, by doing his thing.

And because he has been told repeatedly throughout his life that he is a non-conformist and has no place in their social system, Joe decides to be true to spirituality and true to shamanism and to be a cultural healer instead of a capitalist. Thus, you reader are reading this for free.

Although it might seem this manuscript is an attempt at self-affirmation or personal glory, his teaching comes with a profound and personal warning that the path he lives is not easy, not easy at all. 

Most everybody else out there will hate those who attempt to heal the community, aside from the anonymous individuals whom Joe has successfully helped in non-profit 1 to 1 counseling. His methods are outside of the red-tape restricting effectiveness of system-workers who are counseling for money. Simply because they are part of the problem not part of the solution.

“You can not fix a problem with the same type of thinking which created it in the first place.” Albert Einstein 

The Wolfpack intuitively knew all of that. They could smell it on him. They surrounded him and it was without fear which he opened his heart and found himself amongst brethren. Nuzzling him, the scent of that fulfilling his being, the flavour of their energy magnetizing his blood. Acceptance. Belonging.

Became to him because he needed them. Became to him because we are all players in the larger story. They needed his help. They needed a human to stop the other humans who are deforesting the ancestral hunting grounds. Many species of medicine plants and creatures and supernatural entities have gone already. The living world needs a person to speak for it against the death agents. And failing that, the wolves need bigger guns.

There is a softness here also, an unspoken quiet which as we listen to it, dominates. The acceptance. Recognition that the inevitable cannot be avoided and instead all of our focus should be on the positive, on what we can do something about, what we can achieve with what is left for us.

The boy among wolves knew this, knows it will come to this. The wolves came to the boy for guidance and he recognized the path he must set for them all.

There is great sorrow recognizing that your species will die out and the living world will be gone. There is a way to avoid that sorrow. Indeed, there are two ways to avoid that sorrow. One is to dive headlong into madness with no care for consequences. That is specifically the path which have led to the destruction. The more positive path, the higher, is acceptance and to withdraw all energies from distractions, to focus them entirely on spiritual development.

Because this world is not the only world. And as this world dies, others will become available. Not available to everybody; not available to the main slaves living as agents for capitalist empiricism. Those minds will die with their bodies, they will be no more person for the soul has already gone.

Those who still have souls will leave behind the difficult and find their way to return to natural intuition and intuitive nature. To those, secrets of life will be revealed. To those, gates will be opened for the soul to step through. Into worlds of lighter density, higher vibration, different dreaming’s.

The regions and memories of Arcadia, the mythologies of entities existing in those higher frequencies which step sometimes into the material density to show travelers deep insights and hidden secrets of the macrocosmic reality. Knowledges which the zombie agents of the death cult simply refuse to believe.


Chapter Twelve : tba


Chapter Thirteen : the gates of heaven

“I’m in his flat.” She spoke into her digit-sigil, a portable communication device functioning within a specific bandwidth of electromagnetic radiation. “No, he’s not here. He’s been busy. The place is full of those little model dungeons he makes from polystyrene for his role playing games. He’s obsessive, he’s made loads of them. Some of them are pretty good.”

She was speaking with her narcissistic lesbian feminist extremism mate who hates the guy and was instrumental both in them splitting up and in the breakdown she was currently experiencing on and off and blaming men for.

“Ye they’re probably worth quite a bit if he sells them to the right people. You know what those hobby crackpots are like. It’s tempting to snap bits off them. He’s mental health, he’d probably think he did it himself or something.”

She prodded one of the models. Polystyrene painted with poly-vinyl-acetate (pva) glue and layers of paint; black base-coat, grey, magnolia drybrush, brown wash for grimy texture. Flagstone tiles and castle bricks to approximately 30mm scale. Lollipop sticks cut into doors and furniture, wood stained with wash and also dry-brushed. The work of many patient hours of passion and dedication.

She had climbed all the way to the top of the hill to visit him in Tower Apartments where he lived, had let herself in with the secret copy she had made of the spare key he had entrusted to her before the breakup and which she had ritually returned to him after the breakup.

She was looking for a specific something.

“No I didn’t find it yet. He probably took it with him. Shmuck.”



Chapter Fourteen: purposeful evolution

The purpose to re-introduce shamanism into the death cult as a part of healing.

That it must be done in a language which they can accept. It must be done in knowing that the vast majority are incapable of accepting it because they are too dead. Thus, it is a process of sifting for those who are still alive.

We define being alive as capable of right-brain thought processes and empathic consciousness, with a will to evolve spiritually.

Recognition that we might not be the only people doing this, but anyone else doing it will be doing it in a different way to us, appropriate for their path.

Recognition that we cannot rely on such people to even exist, dealing with the death cult it is notorious for trickery and delusions, for broken promises. For our integrity to remain intact, mixing, with other similar minded people is a risk factor. This is not paranoid thinking, it is self-preservation. That is a critical difference and many will seek to blur that difference to enable their own self-empowerment at derision of ours.

With a less, seeking and contacting such people is necessary and fulfills the original purpose.

Training those ready for the advanced school. At this time, much of our focus is on doing what is necessary for planetary healing. It works on an individual basis as much is on a community basis and a wider cultural basis.

The infrastructure of the death cult is so well entrenched, it is apparently a losing battle. Is it naivety to believe otherwise? Is there something simple and very possible which we can do to collapse the evil Empire with what assets we already have? Surely there is. Surely there is a wait to do it nonviolently.

The mindset of the zombies is a problem. Their nature as petty gain in the immediacy at the cost of long-term gains if it means going without, in the near term.

An experiment was done, you can do this simply yourself. You are alone in a room with one food. If you eat the food today, you will not be given food tomorrow. If you do not eat the food today, you will be given another food tomorrow. On this principle, you satisfied today’s needs but go hungry later, or you develop patience and long term abilities, and feast tomorrow or have sufficient to share with others. There are many who rely on those who starved yesterday so that they may share today. There are many who would steal from others so they may have food today. Many of these are stockpiling food to become the dispensers, so they may barter food for slavery.

The above experiment is the simplest possible terms for comprehending our situation on the planet at this time. The vast majority are in the situation of starving or having only sufficient for immediate needs.

Food can be a renewable resource if it is found, many resources we have on the planet are not renewable in the long term. By exploiting them and using them up, we hope to develop alternative resources which are. Which is technological progress if it works. The wasting of resource is a necessarily is to be stealing from tomorrow’s children.

The life cult is aware of the situation and the conditions we must live within so that we are not stealing from tomorrow’s children.

The death cult have killed all tomorrow’s children by their activities today. This is why they are the enemy, of the survival not only of our species but of all the ecologies.

The second enemy are those hoarding without purpose other than to exploit those without and force them into slavery. A category exists of life cult people who are stockpiling so that tomorrow’s children may have food, because the death cult people around them are wasteful.

This is the situation every generation faces. We must establish a system by which everybody can thrive today and everybody can thrive in the future. We once had agriculture which relies on the natural balance. However, industrial pollution has made agriculture risky. It is also a lot of hard work and people are lazy.

The path of evolution is convenience.

Survival, long-term, must become the most convenient option for everybody. Young and old. Man and women.

Slowly, staggered over generations and held back by the economy being in the state that it is, this is happening. Yet it is being managed and it is happening at a rate by which the minority are exploiting it, exploiuting the main stream majority who in probability are simply going to die out, subsisting in poverty. So hope the wealthy elite.

As with all things, evaluations must integrate multiple ways of analyzing situations. A harmony between polarized opinions. The poverty forces restriction which forces a focus on spiritual development instead of materialistic gain. On this point, the poverty stricken mainstream are going to out-evolve the material wealthy elite. This brings us back around to the point of reintroducing Shamanism into the death cult in a language which they can easily understand.

Shamanism involves healing; by living and being in harmony; a deep spiritual (as in non-material dimension) relationship with the nature of things, essences, energies; development of extra-sensory faculties for example ESP, imagination (is not imaginary), empathic awareness, and indeed many things which can be referred to as ‘the soul’.

Use of totem spirit animals, relationship with spirit allies, all of which comes under both animism and spiritism.

Comprehension of how the universe is electromagnetic, how energies move through material objects, how energies are conscious, and how we ourselves are organic beings capable of translating those energies into human spectrum consciousness, by partaking of them.

When you live with Dogs, you learn to think like a dog. When you live with cats, you learn to think like a cat. When you live in a dream, you learn that the power of a creative imagination affects the lived experiences which manifest for us. When you live in the death cult, you learn to unquestioningly follow orders. Take the chemicals to counter the side-effect o the chemicals in a gradual decline toward death under the for-profit chemical manufacturing companies who own the Societies cultural dominant narrative.

There is a higher order, it is not the death cult, it is supernatural. A belief that supernature is real and a part of the natural world, is a fundamental principle of Shamanism.

For this, initiator he purposes are guided meditations a powerful tool in helping of all of the imagination. There are various levels of conscious awareness therefore there are various levels of guided imagination. A powerful one of these is the dice, pen and paper role-playing hobby, with or without use of tabletop miniatures.


Chapter Fourteen : the Qtarg

When you live with Qtargs, you learn to think like Qtargs.

“What’s a Qtarg?” Ask every player in the party in unison.

“Extinct mythological species.” explained Jim, the Game Master.

“Why do you always called at mythological are not simply mythical? Don’t both words mean the same thing?”

“No. Mythical means ‘inclusive all-of’ (myth). Mythological means ‘by process of logical assumption.’ Something which is mythological has been worked out logically through the arena is mythology, which of course has its own systems and rules. Something which is simply mythical, probably relate more directly to that system of rules and the entities which naturally exist in those dimensions. I believe it’s an Arabic word, the suffix. Like Allah in Islam, it literally means ‘all of’, ‘everything’. That’s why they use it as a name for God, in the context of everything of the harmony. I suppose mythology is a higher higher harmony. Mythology is different from mythological because, it is the knowledge of rather than the active process of extrapolating data from the data set. Logos is the word.”

“Our games-master studies too much.”

“So, what are you gonna do?” Jim interlocked his fingers, flexed them in a repeating wave, elbows on table, demonic yet innocent grin on his bushy bearded face.

“I hit it with my axe!”

“Your Dwarf hits the Qtarg with its axe for... 2d6 damage.”

When you live with the delusional people, you learn to think like a delusional person.
When you live with wholesome people, you learn to think like a wholesome person.
When you live with roleplayers, going to the shop becomes detachment from a version of reality enforced upon you by the state education system. Creative thinking is mandatory for training wizards, loosening the mind, suspension of disbelief until belief in the unusual becomes an auto-generating feedback loop with the external manifestation.


In the medieval era, scryers would attain a perception clear and high enough to be able to look to the future. They observed humans sitting in the bellies of huge metal armored beasts, Traveling on Richard paths and flying through the sky’s. They observed hordes of people mesmerized by one eyed demons showing them hallucinatory illusions. They saw the enslavement of mainstream humanity into such demonic entities for which they had no other frame of reference to describe understand them. They did not know these creatures to be technologies, they assumed them to be hellish of origin because the effect they were having on turning people into zombies and trapping them into polluting lifestyles out of harmony with the natural balance. It is a truly terrifying vision and yet, television, Internet, cars, planes; We do indeed live within the medieval vision of hell. A frame of reference is different, our context, our understanding of the situation. Because we have higher education into what these things actually are.

I look to the future and I see bodies. Machines are printing them. They are grotesque, they are not all human many of them are hybrids with non-human organs and limbs. They all shapes and sizes.

Occasionally, a random soul will wander in from the world of the dead, the world between physically incarnate worlds, and take possession of one of the bodies. The demonic creature will arise and go about its business, interacting with environments and other strange creatures. Much of this is done for hedonistic pleasure, much of this is done for tasks, operating the other organic machines.

The vast majority of the organic machines are functional but contain no souls. Some of the organic machines are big as mountains and their children come in many shapes for many functions. This environment is spread out across many planets. On some, the organizational culture eventually deteriorates and machines with souls trapped in them must procreate with one another the primal way.

Such souls are caught within the physical planetary mass and must acquire sufficient buoyancy and integrity to be able to leave it, and return to the world of the dead between the worlds of manifest dreams. They generally adapt to their environments and evolve through generations into many different species, living in harmony with the local conditions.
The souls travel from all over. Each has a purpose to fulfill, although they must compromise that with survival in the environment they land in. And then they must contend with the delusions of social conformity on that world, because there is an energy in all reality which seeks to perverse and distract souls from achieving their purpose, communities from achieving their pia possible form, and to drink the life energy of those souls to empower itself. It creates zombies. On some worlds it is much stronger than others, it operates through a gravitational frequency from the core of those worlds and the heart of any individuals it can pervert.

Somehow, for many species which have lost that pure connection, the reincarnation process means they forget themselves as a continuity. This does not occur on all worlds, many worlds operate at much higher vibrational frequency than from the perspective of this one, where both things are existing. Gradually, is the individual transmute energy from the local environment into spiritual awareness, the longer-term awareness becomes available, past life memories and future life memories become accessible.

And then there are those on worlds, telepathic agents of high spiritual development, with whom the connection is made as soon as one registers on their perception spectrum. For such nodes, our scrying is an attunement process toward the living connectivity. It is timeless, given that these high frequencies exist outside of local time. They exist at a higher vibration than measurable optical light.

Soul energy is power. The power to change things down here within the density and it’s servile zombies robotically and acting their programmed agendas. Soul energy is divinity. Pure focus required for screening accurately, divination the process of connecting with the divine. These are abilities shaman study.

With this vision, I recognize what had happened already on our planet earth and what would happen there in the future.
But for the shaman, it is toward the rounds of dream we look for evolution. It is to amass sufficient spiritual energy and focus to be able to step directly there, instead of trapped into the rebirth cycle of many lives on this planet through which we may occupy many forms as we incarnate through different species available to us. It is this journey by which we must sufficient spiritual energy and remember infinite conscious expansion awareness.

The greatest enemy of achieving this, is left-brained dogmatic consciousness reinforced upon us by the death cult. Rationality and agenda reasoning focuses within delusional social distractions is what prevents us attaining spiritual evolution. 
Every individual is a part of the whole. The whole contains more than any individual or any collective community can imagine in one go. That which we experience, becomes collective super-conscious, becomes intuitive as we transmigrate.

The traditions we have to sustain us and orientate us within such chaos, all the shamanic archetypes for which we use animal spirit totems.


Chapter Fifteen : sepia reign

When you have lived this long, you see the children as a part of the same body as their ancestors. They contain the same energies. They weave together and mix and blend with whatever energies, from both lines of parentage. And then there is the influence of the world, experiences. Our genetic structure adapt to our environment. Changes in the environment cause changes in the genes. This is passed onto descendants. Experiences, be they traumatic or ecstatic, are also include it into the genes. This is passed onto descendants. Remember; we adapt to survive. Those who do not, do not go forward into future generations and the encouragement is lost.

An Ancient One awoke from slumber in a Barrow Mound which predates written history and had become refuge for the immortal and its sleeping kin. The immortal contemplated its purpose.

When you have lived as long as I, you see the weave as branches of a tree, entangling. You observe these entanglements as conduit’s, how they convey energies which bloodlines are known for, are marked by. Cultures with some foresight mark the individuals and the family bloodlines with labels describing the symbolism through which we understand those energies. Family names. As the tribes establish themselves as into bread with in their groups, the process of distillation is occurring.

I should introduce myself. I am a liche, a ghast, a spirit which wears a body which once was merely human. Through mama chicks I have altered it that it may sustain me for a much for the duration than a typical human lifespan. I am centuries old, although I do not look at. My parents, my physical health depends on how much energy I can muster and so I arranged between a young, fit man and an aged, decaying body. I must be very careful to maintain myself for if I run out completely of energy, if I am unable to access my sources, this body will no longer be able to sustain me and I will have to seek out another one. The social problems this causes are immense.

My peers are also centuries old, some reborn naturally and who I have identified although somehow in the process of rebirth are unaware of who they used to be. I care for them and seek to wake them up; I nurture my descendants, my family. I’m protective and it is through this protection that my family has prospered. It requires one such as I too have gotten us this far. Most others have the blindness of short term awareness.

Longevity is the practice of letting go. That which is unimportant and will take care of it if it self. As a younger person, I was wrapped up in and wasted energy pursuing objectives which no longer seem important. In part, this is because I have been wise and invested my energies in such a way as to shape my life that I no longer have to chase the goals are used to. In most cases however, However the distractions simply ceased to have any relevance or importance. The mind changes as it ages.

I live in the subterrain, coming out often to check on the surface world and entangle myself in the ever changing social politics of human interests.



Chapter Sixteen : feedback loop

poor means pure, pour, power.

Times when I have had absolutely no money at all have been the most rapid spiritual development of my life. The more wealth acquired, the more I possess and I’m possessed by the usury capitalism system, the less spiritual clarity I have attained and maintained.

Within capitalism we are encouraged to amass wealth and respect those who have amassed more wealth than ourselves, to disrespect those who have less. Capitalism does not define wealth as being spiritually alive. It is entirely materialism-based. Thus, pins us to the lower vibrational density spectrums. Therein reside demons. 

“But if money is gold and souls are gold... surely one aids with the other?”

“It depends on the focus of your study.”

“Mithrandrir, the grey pilgrim. The elven name for Gandalf the grey. Yet mithril silver is worth more than gold. Weightless yet strong enough to temper steel. Gandalf had the third Elven ring, what do you think it was made of? It’s how he ascended, returned. He was a pilgrim, owning only that which he could carry and wear. He travelled from holy site to holy site, that was his spectrum and at such sites, what did he learn there? The path of purity.”

“We need to drink cleaner water.”

“Aguamente!” A boy thrusts his wand out, wiggles it about and a stream of water gushes from it, soaking his dad.

“Watch where you point that thing son, it’s dangerous. You could have someone’s eye out.”  

“Yours! Take your stance!” The boy jumps into a variety of martial arts ready poses, holding his wand at arms length, pointing it at his dad.

“Of course, Aqua being water and mente being Mind, the spell actually means ‘fluid mind’ when translated properly from Latin.”

“No it’s not dad, it’s animo in Latin. You’re talking about aqua-animo.”

“No son, those are Japanese cartoons we both watch behind each others backs. Don’t tell your mom I said that.”

“Whut? No dad that’s Anime.”

“And agua is Spanish for water anyway, not Latin. Its aqua in Latin, like Aquarius and aquamarine.”

“I zap you with a firebolt!”

“It doesn’t work because I’m already soaking wet from your water spell! So there!”

“Dad, mente is Spanish too. It also means Mind.”

“You overpower me with your superior knowledge of languages!”


It was a fun play session, ended abruptly by a heavy knock on the door.



Chapter Seventeen: liminal criminal

“For what its worth, your painful and disappointing experiences with crazy bitches is an affirmation of your human decency. Otherwise, you would likely never have been in bad straights. Most decent men have to unlearn this stuff in order to manage better. Identify your values and live within them, at any cost. Develop values that elevate your worth over that of an overgrown child. Anything you can’t lose can destroy you. Living with that reality is a simple, unassailable rule that despite being a rough pill to swallow, is the only antidote to this particular problem. There is nothing more dangerous than a woman who you think you can’t live without. The one way out of that slow, emotional death is the word ‘No’ coming out of his mouth every time his rational thinking calls for it. You can measure a man’s mental health by his ability to say ‘No’ to a woman. As long as you are willing to compromise to keep her around, you will continue to live in the same world of shit with no-one to blame but yourself.”  Paul Elam


The South Wales Police locked Joe in a cell for twelve hours waiting for the Crown Prosecution Service to get back to them as fast as they possibly could regarding the (false) allegations made about him being a fucking nutcase by Helydd verses the account he had made on audio record in his defence.

The CPS told the Police to be nice to Joe and take him home as soon as possible because Helydd did not have a case and basically from what Joe had said, she is suffering from an aggressive mental disorder brought on by the contraceptive pills created by multi-mega-death corporation which she has been taking as instructed her by The Societies General Practitioner Doctorate agent. Chemical toxins which have fucked up her hormones, emotions and mind to such extent, she is making up bullshit to try and have her ex boyfriend persecuted as much as possible, out of malice and probably to cover her ass after the other abuses she has caused him.

Joe took the opportunity to meditate for twelve hours, something he as most do not have the self discipline to do as a general activity. Joe felt grateful for the opportunity to spiritually level up. Had the CPS helped his ex pressed charges he probably would have felt entirely different about the whole situation. As it was, he felt grateful to another petty tyrant enabling him to achieve Zen mastery at an early age.

Fair play to them, the South Wales Police were unilaterally really nice people given the circumstances. They could have made his life hell. Joe contemplated the situation, he could have made his own life hell by reacting to it as such. Instead he thought positively. It made all the difference.

He returned home in the early hours, woke to discover through is letterbox some State paperwork created because somebody had anonymously grassed him up for working and claiming benefits at the same time, another alleged crime (fraud) which he also was not doing. The State wanted to throw him off benefits because of the allegation, consequently he had to attend a bunch of meetings and do an additional bunch of paperwork. Given the circumstance of his ex clearly being on a vendetta it was pretty obvious to most observers who the anonymous person was. Nevertheless Joe does not like to cast aspersions.

"If a law is unjust, a man is not only right to disobey it; he is obliged to do so." Thomas Jefferson, American Founding Father,  principal author of the Declaration of Independence, third President of the United States between 1801 and 1809 AD.

"Tyrants make dissidents. (Dissidents do not make tyrants.)" SnakeAppleTree



Chapter Eighteen : TBA


Chapter Nineteen : kid soldiers


“One day, Lord Frith said to El-ahrairah, 'Prince Rabbit, if you cannot control your people, I shall find ways to control them. So mark what I say. All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.”  Watership Down by Richard Adams.


"Come. Hunt with us. Come hunt."  The Wolves said with their hearts-through-their-minds. And the boy heard, he felt it as one with the pack. The wolves using their powers transformed the boy into a wolf. And that is how it is done.

They caught scent of a deer and chased it through forest and field, across stream. When the deer panicked it grew uge to their senses, its fear a beacon. And when its heart became still and calmed with the hope for life it became invisible to them and they lost it. But the boy was with them and he knew how to see in ways the wolves couldn't, just as they know how to see in ways humans cannot. The boy picked up the trail and the wolves brought down the deer and the boy sank his fangs into her with the lust of a pack who is thin from not having eaten for countless days, because the forests are shrinking and the deer are less than in their parents time.

The starvation abated. The pack slept.

The boy returned to the city, naked with blood on his mouth and his chin and a wildness in his eyes.

Except, it did not happen that way, for wolves though feared because fairytales and their usefulness as metaphor symbolizing the wildness of nature and therefore the wildness of humans, are not themselves terrible creatures. They hunt only for food and not for pleasure, they keep to themselves. Where wolves maintain deer herds by taking only the old and infirm, the health of the herd deer improves. Where wolves roam, deer drink from select places in the river leaving the riversides to become stabilized by riverside plants, instead of randomly destroying everything and weakening the boundaries. An apex predator is also necessity for maintaining the balance and well-being of the whole forest ecology. And so it always was in balance, until humans cut down the tree's.

The boys wolf brothers and sisters licked the blood from his face in laughter and a union of hearts which was a healing for the broken child. He was with his people ,accepting, whole. When eventually he did return to the city he saw it for what it is, a new way without delusions. Intuitively he understood the natures of all individuals and the flows of their energies, the brain-dominant confusion controlling their insane movements and the more gentle folk fewer and farther between.

He went home and returned to the safety of his parents electrical caves and plugged into his violent vdeogames so he did not have to deal with the confusions of people who by social necessity had to disconnect from their hearts and their instincts more often than was healthy for them. So he did not have to feel the sadness of loving such broken people whose minds were distracted from nature because compromising with the ways of urban life.

The boy blew things up, sometimes with cyber bombs and sometimes with cyber spells and sometimes he waded in with a broadsword and slashed digital enemies. But mostly he developed as a sniper, using his hunting skills and the ESP senses developed during his time in the forest. And gradually he recognized that he hated urban life and it was the wrong place for him entirely. He was not fulfilling his mission to prevent any more forests from being felled, and he missed his wolf family.

The boy wrote a list of everything he would need to take with him if, and as he grew in confidence, when; he returned to the cave. He could live there. To be alive, and survive, and to grow. In this place where school and brushing his teeth before bed and eating when he was told, being ignored to play videogames so his parents could continue to avoid looking into their own hearts and settling them wholly, in this place there was sickness and sorrow and the gradual decay into becoming a reactive, lifeless zombie, just like them and just like everyone else.

That night he dreamed, for the first time, of the Wizard whose cave had called to him. Because he had opened his heart. Because he had rejected normality and chosen instead the mythical. He was shown how to open the stones and enter the warrens of one who had lived long ago before magick had gone out of the world. 

He wrote a note to his dad explaining that he had gone to live with the wolves and a wizard, not to worry and freak out about it, because he would be back to check up on him and look after him. But right now he had to go and do some things with the natural and magical world. he knew his dad would understand. He left with the note a gemstone which he had discovered in the cave, carved into the shape of a spiral. He knew it would explain to his dad that everything is okay. The boy recognised that was luckier and braver than his dad had ever been, and had already gone much further into developing his abilities and making connections in the wider world where magic is an actual real lived thing and not some silly rules system in a dice based fantasy  roleplay or special effects in a videogame.

It was his mam he worried about. She'd go crazy and have the police involved and suspect a murder or kidnap. The boy knew his parents life was about to get very difficult because of his decision. Then he realised he needed to see him mam again one more time before going to study with the wizard. Which was okay because she was collecting him tomorrow for her few days at a time with him, as per court order.

The boy put the note and the crystal in a place his dad would not immediately see but would find easily if he searched for clues to where his missing son had gone, and then he would understand. Then he slept.







Chapter Twenty : emotional abuse




Chapter Twenty-One : alchemy






Chapter Twenty-Two : everything in its right place


“And there was a sort of twinkle in Jung’s eye that gave me the impression that he knew himself to be as just as much a villain as everybody else. There’s a nice German word, hintergedanken, which means the thought in the very far, far back of your mind. Jung had a hintergedanke in the back of his mind, that showed. It showed in the twinkle in his eye. It showed that he knew and recognised what I have sometimes called ‘the element of irreducible rascality’ in himself. And he knew it so strongly and so clearly, and in a way so lovingly that he would not condemn the same thing in others. And therefore would not be led into those thoughts, feelings and acts of violence towards others which are always characteristic of the people who project the devil in themselves upon the outside, upon somebody else, upon the scapegoat.

Now this made Jung a very integrated character. He was man who was thoroughly with himself. Having seen and accepted his own nature profoundly, he had a kind of unity and absence of conflict in his own nature which had to it this additional complication that I find so fascinating. He was the sort of man who could feel anxious, and afraid, and guilty, without being ashamed of feeling this way. In other words, he understood that an integrated person is not a person who simply eliminated the sense of guilt or the sense of anxiety from his life, who is fearless and wooden and a kind of sage of stone. He is a person who feels all these things but has no recrimination against himself for feeling them. And this is to my mind a profound kind of humour.” Alan Watts



Joe talking with the towns counselor about trauma bonding and the effect of dysfunctional relationships on children. Clearly Helydd doesn’t like children. She only likes dogs. Because they are easier to control. And because she can get away with hurting them is my own personal opinion. She’s sadistic.

I profiled her to be all across the BDSM spectrum. With her it’s ‘bondage’ not as in physically tying somebody up but as in emotional or mental, which is full on submission-domination as the one drains the other or caught up in disfunctionality of fighting each other for dwindling amounts, grinding each other down to lesser, degraded selves. The exact opposite of what I had hoped to achieve by becoming energy-bonded with someone in  a relationship, for mutual empowerment. She does not have that skill set.

It’s why the trauma bonding comes into it and inflicting of suffering.

“Did you know suffering means ‘to do so willingly’? In the Bible where it says ‘thou shall not suffer a witch to live’, it is not talking about killing them, it is talking about not letting them control your life. Sufferance implies willingness, acceptance, consent. At least that’s according to Blacks Law Dictionary.”

Counselor Anarawd asks, “Do you know what Stockholme syndrome is?”

“Yes that’s what the Harlequin girl has in those marvellous comics, she’s the jokers girlfriend; the more he tortures her the most she loves it. I always thought they should’ve done more with the Tarot cards which has the joker figure.”

“There is a reason these iconic anti-heroes represent the culture we are living in and are so popular. A lot of people identify with these characters.”

“I worry about that. People look towards them as role models. Behaving that way, getting involved in that sort of relationship seems to be the rights of passage which the society is promoting to us because we don’t have enough more positive rights of passage.”

“People like the dark side. Are you familiar with the work of Gustav Karl Jung? Especially on integrating the shadow self. It might help you to research into it. Especially given that you appear to keep getting drawn towards a specific personality type, the ones you described his narcissistic.”

“I know Jungs work, yes. Freud would say that’s all about my relationship with my mother and he’s right; she was a narcissistic abuser too. I cut her out of my life entirely for my own protection and never looked back. Things got a lot better for me. It will be the same with Helydd.”

“You have quite a lot of experience dealing with that spectrum of personality profiles. You should see it as a positive thing; you should have enough experience to recognise the signs, to know what to look out for and to be able to advise other people who are not that far ahead with it. This life experience can be regarded as natural training which you have been put through. It could possibly give you the mentality to become a healer, since as you say is it such a common thing.”

“You are a very good counselor. Previous people I’ve seen were useless, they simply regurgitated back to me what I had just told them and then told me that it was normal for me to be feeling that way given my circumstances. I resolved they haven’t got a clue and are ineffective at the job. You on the other hand, you’ve got me thinking. You’ve got me feeling more positive about myself for which I’m genuinely grateful.”

“Thank you. I’m glad these sessions are having a positive impact on you.”

“Definitely. Integrating the shadow self. Most people avoid doing that. Instead the path of constantly avoiding looking into the darkness within ourselves, becomes normal mainstream accepted reality. Masks and masquerading, fake people pretending. All of the pretence depresses me. It’s why I avoid people. I suppose it’s also why the more extreme ones stand out, attract me more.”

“Have you bumped into your ex since...” She meant since she had me arrested but carefully avoided triggering me by saying so. Tactful and kind, what they now describe as ‘mindful’. When I was growing up, giving somebody a mindful meant telling them exactly what you thought of them in no uncertain terms. “...we last spoke?”

“No, we avoid each other. It’s inevitable we will bump into each other at some point.”

“How do you feel about it now?” Not her; it. General overview without specific focal yet inclusive of the obvious.

I’d thought much about this topic. Had come to a conclusion and thus able to reply intelligibly.

“It would not be human to not still sometimes have positive emotional feelings towards each other. Because of our situation, were I to suggest anything like that to her face, the police would interpret it as coercion and take the heavy handed, dim view of it. The desk seargent advised me 'don't give her any evidence'.”

“It’s natural to still have residual feelings for ex-partners especially given what we discussed about emotional and mental bondage developing in traumatic relationships. The severance can itself be shocking.”

She was referring to me cutting off all ties with my mother. A male counsellor would not have connected that.

“Her electro-magnetic waves are coming through the walls and affecting me. Affecting each other. It’s psychic-emotional. We overlap. We need to harmonize. It’s unhealthy to constantly be shifting to avoid each other, unhealthy. The natural flow of life is seeking balance.”

“Because you’re ready for it now.”





Chapter Twenty-Three : that which does not kill us


WARNING : EXPLICIT CONTENT

THIS CHAPTER COMES WITH AN  AGE 18  RATING


"If you cannot submit, you cannot die. And if you cannot die, you cannot be reborn." Robert Moore, The Archetype Of Initiation


“Don’t give her any evidence.” The desk sergeant had advised me as they released me No Further Action, not charging me based on my ex false allegations and not asking me if I wanted to press charges for her domination and control game having involved perversion of the course of justice which is the technical name for lying to the police to have somebody arrested on false charges.

The desk sergeant did not advise me to avoid her. He did not advise me to have nothing more to do with her. Did not advise me not to put on a condom and fuck her brains out as soon as possible in a reunion hate-fuck should she calm down enough to allow me, her having previously consented and consummated that consent on multiple occasions with such encouragement as “you can do anything you want to me” and “I don’t want wholesome” and “I want you to touch me anywhere, anytime” - none of which is technically annulled simply because she lied to the police about me on one occasion.

The police are regarding it as an extreme if not overbearing aspect of a heavy sub-dom relationship. They have seen enough false accusations which turned into ongoing relationships to know the probabilities and base their stance on, it's a more common thing than people outside of this type of relationship are aware. People get mixed up in this shit which is difficult to untangle from. Especially when the couple are living next door to each other.

I cannot spunk inside her, because a possibility she’d go directly to the cops and tell them I had raped her. I could probably get away with leaving bruises on her by spanking her - the girl owns whips and paddles, she’s into all that - because I could always deny it was me who’d done that. Love-bites too unless they could match it to my dental records.

I had not thought in this way until after twelve hours in the cells being processed, before they let me go. I am thinking this way as a result of the control-domination game she has played on me. She is turning me into the sort of guy she expected and desired for me to be all along. I have to accept this as a part of her treatment / punishment / teachings. I have to accept what I am becoming as a result of it. I have to accept the world i am living in for what it is despite a lifetime of trying to make it a better place where lovers love instead of hating and creating a twisted, fucked up culture where abuse works on many levels which is what bondage relationships are all about. Previously I had avoided all that because thinking it to be dirty. Now through no fault of my own and not having had a choice in it, I’m developing along mental and emotional pathways which this bitch has put me on. It is a part of a healing journey fully assimilating and not hiding from any truths of what being abused in this way does to a guy.

She was leaning on the side of her car yesterday when I got home, talking into her phone and watching me, waiting for me. Not her usual behaviour at all. I assume it to be coincidence but IO also assume it to be her trying to get my attention, to see how I would react. I made ‘the gesture’ which I have developed over time and through experience. It appears confident to observers but really it is to hide my lack of confidence. A half-wave, raising the hand from the elbow but not raising the elbow. Raising the hand to or nearly to elbow height, with the hand in the shape of a ‘stop’ gesticulation. It can easily be read as ‘woah! stop!’ raising of a shield, or as a friendly but pre-occupied wave. It is an acceptable gesture for people who you don’t know very well, people you want to avoid, people you might open up to some if they approached you but reserving the right to remain stoic and distant from them, monosyllabic answers and avoidance. It’s both a friendly opening and a rejection, all at the same time. The glass is half full, the glass is half empty, but either way I am the bigger person because I made the gesture at you and now the ball is in your court to respond one way or another. She returned me exactly the same gesture. I opened my front door and went inside, leaving it open behind me. She got in her car and drove away.

I am being stalked. She is using intimidation tactics. She’s up to her old tricks, bullying me again, acting with supremacy instead of equality or accepting that she’s the one with dirt on her face for lying to the police and failing to get taken seriously by them. What did she hope or expect would happen? She either wanted me to get charged for it or else, knowing that I’d be released with no further action, simply wanted to cause me shit. The result is I have hardened up. The outcome is the police now recognise her as a lying bitch out to cause trouble.

Don’t give her any evidence, in practical terms it means avoiding her like the plague. In twisted up culture it means if I sexually assault her while wearing a condom and then deny having done it, leaving no evidence, she has already consented to giving me sex, not only vanilla sex but “unwholesome” and “do whatever I want to her” “anytime and anywhere”, in her own words.

I daydream about a Judge asking me “Don’t you think that her having (lied to the police / perverting the course of justice) had you arrested signifies the withdrawal of sexual consent?”

I reply logically; “No your honour, she has not explicitly stated that she does not want to resume a sexual relationship, in fact she has said quite the opposite. What turns her on is high-level domination games and control. She made it expressly clear to me in her own words ,’unwholesomeness’.

Were I to have forced sex upon her after she had complained to the police about me about my phone texts in which I stated I did not want to pursue sexual relations with her at that time, which being texting is a different issue altogether than physical sexual relations, it would be deemed as giving her what she explicitly has already stated she prefers from her sexual partners.

I had shown myself to be a weak male, deserving of punishment by being hardened up by her false allegations, so I could become more the man she needs for the type of sex she needs. Knowing her intimately I believe she is going crazy without hard sex because she cannot handle her high sex drive, that is why she is pushing a guy she has targeted toward becoming that sort of person, to satisfy her sexual preferences. Because angry, hard, hate sex is more satisfying to her than gentle, tender loving sex.

That is what the rape charge is, your honour; more false allegations. With zero evidence that I raped her, only her hearsay after she has already been put on record for lying to the police, I would probably walk. She had technically previously consented. She is playing that level of game with me. Recognising her to be a sort of person whose behaviour is to my natural way of thinking, unscrupulous and dodgy, is why I had retracted sexual consent and angered her in the first place.”

I have no idea how a judge would react to that but it is the truth. The recognition that multiple allegations with zero evidence is a hate crime, verses the possibility I did do all the shit she has accused me of. The courts go on hard evidence.

That’s what I am caught up with. That’s what she has done to my mind with an intense BDSM relationship. That’s why I am avoiding her. All I want to do is be a dad. Stay in Parent Mode because doing Adult mode is difficult. And then there’s the other level of Adult, which is Mature mode. Because Adult starts at 18 but y the age of 35 the mentality is very different

Until the day I came home and caught her in my place, having let herself in with a copy of the key. Laying on my bed in her t-shirt with her trousers left on the stairs. Apparently sleeping. I was embarrassed because I’d left my mains-electric powered shoulder, back and genital massaging wand next to the bed while my kid was at his mothers for a few days as per Family Court Order.

“The fuck are you doing?” I asked.

“Was sleeping.” She genuinely was, or is a good enough actress I couldn’t tell the difference. She was using Voice. It was working. She was turning me on already.

I didn’t know if to call the police, use ‘reasonable force’ to remove an intruder from my property, or pin her down and fuck her brains out.

“I don’t know if I should call the police, use reasonable force to remove an intruder or pin you down and fuck your brains out.”

“We could just talk.”

Her dominant. Me sub. Her deciding the timing and the method. Me be good monkey play her game. I had not actively thought through the possibility she might do this.

The room smelled like she’d been masturbating and had climaxed. Her scent turns me on.

“Don’t give her any evidence.”

I switched my videophone to record and filmed her.

“What are you doing?”

“Filming you.”

“Why?”

“To regain control of the situation.”

“Why, do you feel like you are not in control?” She did not add ‘of yourself’. She did say it in a suggestive way. The videophone caught that.

“I’m wondering why after everything you put me through you are half naked in my bed having let yourself while I was out.”

“Needed to smell you.” Did not say ‘sniff you out’, an allegory for suss you out.

She's a keyholder which legally gives her protection for being here despite her acquiring it by making herself a copy without permission. I contemplated that perhaps she did miss me and my bodily scent enough to do this thing. I certainly felt that way about her too.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Which actually was acceptance of her being there because I had neither phoned the police nor used reasonable force to remove her from my property.

“Hmpf.” A short moment later she asked; “Would you rather be crazy, or fucking?”

And that's her giving blatant consent. Some houseproud part of me was glad I had changed the sheets a couple of days ago.

My next expected line was obviously supposed to be; “You’re driving me crazy.” which is the truth although in the current situation it would have been read in a different context to the one intended. or perhaps not. I was horny as fuck and we had unfinished sexual business, which is the whole of the problem. She had finally overcome her emotional and mental blockage to pick up where we’d left off.

Instead I answered; “I want to change things between us.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here.”

She’d made my bed smell of her. If she immediately left right now I’d be masturbating all night simply because her hormones drive me wild.

And suddenly we were living in a world of getting back on, making an effort to get along, and probably about to have reunion sex. Deserved or not. Wise or not. The pain of needing and hating was about to be healed, albeit temporarily. I wondered what the police who she’d had arrest me would think. Am I being a weak, submissive male? Am I lucky to have been chosen by such an ‘empowered woman’ (read; unscrupulous and insane bitch) such as this?

“I don’t want to put myself at risk of giving you any evidence which you are likely to use as evidence. The police advised me of that.”

“Do you have to bring that into it? Can’t we let the past go and continue with a clean sheet?”

I did some quick math. Her other lover had dropped her long enough ago for her to get over that and come here looking for sex.

“So, you are going to masturbate for me right here and now, using that wand, to redress our power imbalance.”  

“I’ve been playing with that already, It’s nice.” explains why she’s so chilled out right now. I did some more math. She’s heard it through the wall, decided to have a go and decided that were I to walk in and find her in that situation it would be even better because it would result in orla pleasure and penetrative sex with someone who has enough anger with her to fuck her in just such a way.

Reunion sex.

“And I’m going to film you doing it.”

She didn’t answer. She weighed it. “What if I refuse?”

“I’ll show the police this video.”

“Including the bit where you try to blackmail me into sex?”

“No. I stopped filming just after you said you want a clean slate.”

Whether I had or not is a moot point. She reached over and picked up the vibrator.

“I really like this toy.” Somewhere in my mind, awareness it's me who is her toy.

It’s not me she wants. It’s domination and novel experience. She’s a narcissist. Once you know how a narcissist works and stop being empathic toward them, they become much easier to deal with. Basically by out-manipulating them. By becoming like them, they find you easier to get on with and are less abusive. She has taught me this.

She hadn’t turned the machine on yet, she’d thrown the blankets back to reveal her smooth, naked legs and pink knickers. She slid her fingers over them, into them.

“What are you going to do with your sex tape of me playing with myself?” Again using Voice.

I didn’t know. I didn't even know why I was doing it, it had happened by itself in an attempt to sidestep out of here without losing face. I should have walked away. I was still a pawn in her game rather than the master of my own intentions. I didn’t want her near me. She’s toxic. The gambit with the phone was to protect myself legally and already it had twisted into this scenario. I didn’t really have any choice. She didn’t really care if I was filming her or not. I didn’t answer her question because there was no answer. Nothing. But I can't back down or she'll have won the domination and I'll be utterly defeated by her superiority. I'm trying to stand up against that level of bullying and depersonalisation.

Our eyes caught in a staring match. Neither blinked. Primal domination and control game. Whoever looks away first is the submissive. She was playing with herself and making comedy-sex faces. She looked like a cartoon, a younger version of herself. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her gaze. She was sliding her fingers around and inside herself underneath her underwear. Her facial expressions were showing me exactly how good it felt. Still we didn’t break gaze. She had the excuse of being distracted by intense pleasure and she was enjoying having me spellbound and pinned into giving her my whole attention. Narcissistic supply. I was supposed to be feeling on top of the world because the gift she was giving me. I felt like shit.

I felt like shit because what I was doing and what she was doing to me. I do not want not be this person, playing this game, with this psychotic bitch. I hated myself for being pressured into acting this role and full of that hate I began to taste what it feels like to be her, the motivation for her psychosis. The taint of madness spreading that it may sate its destructive nature.

My mind caught up with itself. I know she’d had other guys since me. I felt like shit because right now I didn’t care about that, which went against my monogamy indoctrination. I felt like shit because I was full of desire and at the same time a deep need to fuck this woman up and make her hurt, to make her pay for what she had done to my emotions, to my life.

And she knew all that, and she knew my cock inside her would tell her all that, and that's exactly what she needed. For her to heal. I was getting caught up with her again, back with my abusive ex, a narcissistic slag who had put me in a cell, tried to put me in court possibly prison. Enemy. Predator. Danger.

“Do you love me?” She asked. She'd asked me the same question in exactly the same voice every day we’d been together. I’d always said “yes of course babe.” even long after it had worn thin, caught in a cycle of convenient relationship 'normality'. A world built between us.

“No. You’re a cunt.”  Caught on video.

She made an animal noise of sexual satisfaction. It actually turned her on when I spoke to her like that. This is who she needs me to be.

There's adult, and there's mature. It’s adult plus. Plus experience. Plus acceptance of harsh punishment might actually be deserved and necessary to turn us into who others need us to be, to be able to better support them or if not them then others also requiring that level of support. Which coming from women who understand the needs of other women... This is what they do to us. Doesn’t make us ‘subs’. Makes us stronger. Nietzschean philosophy. Makes us more alpha males.

“I love you.” I would say. She’d reply: “I love you more.”

I threw that out in a state of shock and resentment when she had me arrested. Watching her laying in the bed playing with her pussy. She slid her knickers off and threw them at me. I continued on filming. She continued playing. I realised possibly that her love for me was genuine despite such deadly punishment and that her abuse of me might have been a good thing after all. Trauma bondage. It’s all about perspective.

I didn’t have any condoms in the house, having left them at her place when we initially got together and then we stopped using them because she decided without any discussion about it to go on the contraceptive pill, the hormone replacement which had imbalanced her hormones and made her go psychotic. Explaining that to the cops on my interview tape had given both her and myself some protection, an excuse not to get processed through court, because it’s acceptable that the chemicals made her go nuts. It's acceptable that the fault of her psycho behaviour was the GP and mega-death pharmaceutical corporation who she now has a legal right plus evidence to sue them for, fucking her up so much, fucking her relationship up. That might have been the sole reason the court had rejected her fabricated complaint as valid. They never justify their reasoning despite demanding everyone who comes through their door to explain themselves honestly or face consequences, punishment.

Her kickers had fallen on a book I'd been reading to my kid,  ‘A Street Through Time’ about development of human history. It had spawned an educational conversation which like most things works on a few levels.

“You don’t even realise how easy you have it compared with people of past generations.” I'd said as he refused to go to bed for the third time that night. Resorting to mirth and patient understanding instead of attempted domination by anger and fear, generally described as bullying behaviour. Better parenting skills. If ever there was a time I needed to practice de-escalation it was here and now.

Explaining about punishment. My dad had belted me until my ass was raw with pain for reasons I never understood, "being naughty" he'd said without explaining what I’d done wrong or why it was wrong. Usually because my younger brother, face covered in chocolate, had reported on me for allegedly stealing chocolate from the cupboard to cover his own ass. My grandmother had made my mother and her siblings suck on a bar of soap whenever they said cuss words. True family history. If my kid refuses to go to bed he throws a tantrum and tells his teachers I bullied him for threatening to reduce the hours he can play videogames.

It was because I'd got used to my brother biting me and my dad smacking my ass that I got into BDSM culture in the first place. Expecting it to be about the physical pain-as-pleasure to heighten my senses and wake me up from the dull slumber through which I semi-consciously go about my life. The whole domination and mental-emotional punishment aspect of it far outweighs any kinky parlour games in the hardcore for-real experience this bitch had served upon me.

Punishment as education for their entertainment.

She lay on my bed as I filmed her slipping her fingers inside her increasingly wet cunt and making sounds and facial expressions to die for. I could barely hold the camera straight. In one version of the universe, the expectancy I should be playing with my cock inside my trousers as I watch her. My testosterone was surging. My mind was still contemplating accepting this fast-moving scene for what it is verses dragging her down the stairs by her hair and throwing her half naked into the street. Either would be entirely justified.

How would a sane, mature, responsible, good hearted man react to this? It’s obvious, he’d have a sexual reunion and protect himself by using a condom. Or simply keep filming and let her finish without touching her.

She made herself cum, loudly and wonderfully.

“Get dressed and fuck off.” I ordered.

“Seriously?”

We’d broken the ice. From now on, with this film under my belt, I could do whatever I want with her. Overwhelmingly the adrenaline rush of my flight response was telling me to get the hell away from her.

“I want to film you leave.” I thought the words 'in one take' and how it works on two planes. Her face was disappointed, surprised. “Now. Leave now.”

“Okay.” In a small voice. She got up and brushed past me to the stairs, where she slid on her trousers without her knickers. She looked back over her in a momentary hesitation at the door, trying to find something appropriate to say. I hid my face behind the upheld videophone. She took a deep breath.

I said nothing. She collected her shoes without putting them on. It somehow seemed like we were enacting a rite of passage echoed throughout timeless generations. We were not us at that moment but had become, in attempt to free ourselves from the dogma's, something written in the storybook of fate.

“This it then?” She asked, flushed from her exercise and full of hope. I didn’t answer. She was unsure, not wanting to be thrown out but already caught in forward motion stepping through the door. Power imbalance shifting fast. I pushed the door shut with my foot and switched the camera off. Took a huge breathe.

And opened the door, and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back, kissed her fiercely, forcing my tongue to touch places it shouldn't. She let me and kissed back, understanding, meeting the passion, daring herself to kiss darker than she'd ever done before. It was the most blue kiss. It was the most manly thing I had ever done. Acting on a spur-of-the-moment decision to be pro-active. To take what I want (for whatever reasons I thought I wanted it). She melted into me. She began to cry.

“I don’t want to see tears. Go home, Be happy.”

I went back into my house and shut the door. Upstairs I found her underwear where it had fallen at the foot of my bed, pink and damp and smelling of her cum. Sighing with a deep breath I lay on my bed, breathed in her scent, emailed the video to my email account to make a backup copy as a thing to do to distract myself. To delude myself I had a focus and knew what I was doing; and said aloud:

“Fuck.”

The right thing to do. In these circumstances it could be anything.

I phoned the police incident report line and reported that she had been in my house laying on my bed having let herself in with an illegal key while I was out, and I had asked her to leave, and she had obliged. I had to do that to cover myself legally. I didn’t mention making a video of her masturbating nor that we'd kissed. She’s lied to the police and put me in the cells for twelve hours. She’s dangerous. I don’t know how long she was in my house before I returned to find her there, or what she had done in that time. The police woman taking my report laughed but gave me an incident report number. If I had not done that, it will go against me in future if she makes any more allegations to the police. I have to protect myself. I have to protect my sons need for a father who isn’t in jail.

It’s not the sort of relationship I want. My bedroom stinks of her sex and I’m gagging for her like a dog on heat trapped in a cage next to a bitch in season. I want her more than ever. Mind split in two.

And she’s laying in her bed wandering what’s wrong with me that I can’t make my mind up and be decisive, to take her like she’s let me know she needs, and how she’s picked the wrong male because I’m not alpha enough for her. I doubt that she’s feeling dejected at my being the best she can do because she’s involved in equivalent versions of this game with unknown multiple other guys, of that I can be sure. She wants to be queen with her own harem which means she targets guys who won't stand up to her and put her in her place, hoping someday one of us will.

She knows in the next two or three days if I don’t masturbate enough times to get her out of my system then I’m going to be maxed out on testosterone and psyched up enough to pin her to the ground and fuck her brains out until she can't take any more. She also knows its going to be a few days before I collect my son from his mothers as per shared residency court order. We're in a window. She’s playing me. My mind is split in two because the fear of her abusive control domination intimidation criminal proceedings is screwing me up worse than drugs; verses how much I’m enjoying it.






APPENDIXES


Paul Elam’s Relationship Advice For Men

1. Any woman you can’t bare to lose is a woman you can’t train.
There is nothing women are more acutely attuned to than your willingness or lack thereof to let them go. It is not something you can hide, she knows about it, better than you do, and she will use it to play on it every fear and insecurity you have when getting her way creates a conflict.

2. Be prepared to let her go.
There are no guarantees. No sure-fire plans. Relationships are usually a battle for your soul. There are no shortage of women in this world who will not stay in a relationship unless she can own yours. There are some women who can be trained out of that mentality, but most of them can’t. Which means your choice of who you enter a relationship with up front is a critical matter. Your job here is much more to run off non hackers than it is to keep a harpie around and get her to act like she’s something other than a harpie. Being prepared to see her go means to expect it in most cases. The more dependant, the more difficult your job.

3. Know your values.
And what you want from a relationship before you step into the ring with a woman. Knowing and maintaining your values is 90% of the job. It is one of the basics you simply can’t overlook. Relationships with Human Beings - even between male friends - involves a series of compromises, giving and taking, and making some allowances for the individual preferences and traits of both people. The only things you have to guide the decisions you make in that respect is common sense and your values; one of them necessarily being self-respect.

In fact the nature of most healthy male friendships serves as the perfect model of what is missing in most male to female relationships. In the latter, men have a tendency near universally to make their values as negotiable as movie night, or even easier. The man who betrays a friend and therefore himself over a skirt is the problem.

You need basic standards in your relationships with women; some lines in the sand which you won’t let her cross on day one, on day one thousand. The way to let women know about these standards is very simple. All you have to do is tell them, directly and honestly, the moment you establish you are not just two ships passing in the night.


Suggested Standards

Standard One : Reciprocity

No-one gets their way all the time, or at least they shouldn’t. It’s a rule that applies to everything. It means each persons interests and the responsibilities for pursuing them are balanced with the others. Many women struggle with this basic math. Two plus two sometimes equals No. This is where your preparedness to let her go comes into play full force. If she can’t take a No, let her go. Have the spine to say No, don’t whine about how her desires dominate your life.

Standard Two : Fairness

Every man knows instinctively whether he is dealing with someone who has fairness in mind verses someone who is constantly angling to get their way. When fairness is the standard for both sides of a relationship there is an ease in the air thats obvious. Both people are watching out for the others interest. Neither one is uptight about the outcome of much of anything. This is really common in the early, infatuated stage of a romantic relationship marked by two people who are tripping over each other to be nice. And you know what happens later on though.

Mutual gracefulness benefits the relationship more than where you have lunch. That core of mutual support and respect is a necessity for durability and for the quality of any relationship; which is what most men find impossible to have with a woman. Many men will tell you that she will want the pretence of fairness while at the same time getting her way.

One way she will accomplish this is to ask where you want to eat and then shoot down every idea you come up with. Many men will  after she shoots down enough of their ideas just relent and ask her where she wants to eat, which of course is what she wanted. Another tactic she will use is to give in to your choice and then complain about the meal all the way through it. The m.o. here is to rob you of the enjoyment of making your choice. The message is simple; he may get to choose things her and there but she will make him suffer for doing so. With time it wears men down to the point where they just give in and let her make the decisions. These techniques on the part of women apply to a lot more than lunch.

The answer when faced with this type of conduct is top go to lunch or whatever else you had planned by yourself or with someone else and to tell her why you are doing it. You have to be explicit. Some women are so accustomed to using this kind of manipulation they are barely aware of doing it. So it has to be broken down very simply. Look her in the eye very calmly and tell her; “I’m going to go without you because you either get your way or you ruin things for me if I get mine. I don’t do things with anyone under those conditions.” Don’t argue with her or try to bargain; just say it and go.

Some men will find that difficult because they will feel guilty. Men frequently feel guilty for taking care of themselves. Do it anyway. If you are insistent and consistent she will be cornered into one of two choices; change, or leave. If you’re prepared to accept either one, then you can’t lose. Your calmness in this is critically important. Sometimes in order to muster the willingness to set limits, men deliver a No like it was on the end of a Loueyville Slugger. After all, there’s a great deal of understandable frustration involved. Usually by the time guys actually say something about a relationships inherent unfairness they’ve had a belly-full of it. All the more reason to catch this stuff early.

Disregarding a bitches bitchosity because yo are attracted to her or because you feel guilty or for any other reason is like turning yourself into a time bomb. So look at this as an opportunity to teach; one that may well fail, but not as a war to win. A softer, more adult tone. The term Adult and not paternal or parental; suffice it to say that women especially tend to respond better to calm leadership than anger.

Remember, most women in this culture are by male standards grossly immature. They have never had the demands of emotional maturation placed on them. In fact there is significant social pressure for women for them to remain stuck in perpetual childhood. That’s why they become such confounding, demanding and entitled pains in the ass in relationships. Like it or not, if you’re going to achieve any sense of real peace with a woman in a relationship, you are either going to have to find a unicorn or you’ll have to train her into enough maturity to make relative peace attainable. And you have to do it constantly prepared and willing to see her exit. If you aren’t prepared to see her leave then you are wasting your time. Most women will find the allure of the childs life too enticing to remain in a place where adulthood is required. Your job is not to appeal to most women. Your job is to work effectively with women who are the possible exceptions.

Standard Three : Adulthood

Women use super-stimuli to exploit mens natural instincts, to train men like a dog. This especially relates to the ploy of making themselves look, sound, feel and act much younger than they are. This ploy evokes what neurobiologists refer to as the parental brain. A primitive interaction that locks the man into the parent role in charge of a petulant and needy child. That is a transaction we need to revisit, by using Eric Berne, father of Transactional Analysis. He set forth a model showing three states of being that people habitually inhabit. In brief summary they are Parent, Adult and Child.

The negative aspects of the child state which is where most women reside during relationship conflict are irrationality, rebelliousness, insecurity, intentionally being difficult, and throwing tantrums. The parent state is a disfunctional reaction to the child. The parent is rigid, judgemental, controlling, critical, and finger-pointing. That is where many men end up when in conflict with a woman-child. A parental response is not suggested to womens childishness. Being negatively parental only results in cyclical conflict and it helps her justify being a child. The parent state may be useful just to maintain your boundaries; it is certainly better than yielding to the child because that will certainly lead to more self-inflicted anger on your part.

The objective is to maintain yourself as the adult, which Berne describes as reasonable, rational, logical, non-threatening, and very importantly, non-threatened. That informs her you wont be manipulated, by threats of her leaving or anything else. The adult after all is precisely how you want her to be, unless there’s something really wrong with you.

Dealing with a chronic child is not only frustrating, it is an abusive situation. Asking the victim to be the one to take the reins as an adult, isn’t exactly fair. Then again, fare is what you pay on the bus and we need to go with what may work, over what feels good and even over what is fair. Between the two of you, you are likely the only one who has had an adult expectation placed on you in life. Between the two of you, you are the one most likely to be able to teach and to learn. In that light holding your own feet to the fire about the position you take is a must.

This talk would not be complete without pointing out that even if you are incredibly insightful, composed and skilled at this sort of thing, it is still a roll of the dice.

There are no assurances.

There is a natural tendency for humans to pair-bond. Most men will seek attachment. Marriage is not a requirement for attachment. The most effective way to train women to become adults is to encourage men and support them to accept nothing less from women; and from themselves. Women are adults and should be expected to act like it. The only thing stopping any man from getting off the bitch train is his personal choices.


Transcript from How To Train A Woman Like A Dog ‘An Ear For Men’ channel,  youtube.

Paul Elam : www.anearformen.com