I was a politician in training, I may still be, though if there's one person who dislikes politics that'd be me.

When was younger I would see all the adults discussing politics and would notice this was stressful for them. That's why I was excited when I got to witness my first election, because people were saying things would change. I figured after people got to vote and their will was carried out they would stop complaining.

Nothing changed after the election, people just kept complaining about the same things only using different names. I was very young when I decided I didn't want to vote, I saw it as too much trouble for nothing, I still haven't voted to this day. The only place I vote on is the internet, where my voice counts, sometimes.

I've always been very concerned about the right way to do things, it took me a while to figure out right is usually circumstantial.

Growing up people disappointed me a lot, I was never really abused compared to others though. I would eat at least two meals a day, went to private schools, had my own bed, I could even go out and play outside from time to time. There was some physical punishment, and while I do not justify it because it was when my parents first hit me I lost a kind of trust in them that I could never regain, this punishment never really left a mark on my skin. I can understand there may be circumstances in which one may need to trigger the pain response of a child to gain their attention and spare them from greater pain, but when you purposely cause pain to someone their perception of you has to change, this is something we should keep in mind as we interact with others.

The reason people have disappointed me so much is not so related to what they have directly done to me, it's because I see them making the same mistakes again and again, year after year, maybe even life after life.

It's not about what you have done to me but what you are doing to yourselves.

As my disappointment grew so did the desire for independence. I didn't want to be part of other people's crazy repetitive patterns when I had to deal with my own. I started seeing others as if they were holding me back and that's how I became familiar with resentment.

If I had to name a specific kind of abuse I've suffered from it'd have to be Christianity. But before you get offended, exit the post and go back to your feed, I want to let you know that I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about what you see as Satanism if you consider yourself to be a Christian.

You see? That's the funny thing about the word Satanism, it can be anything that you don't like, anything you consider to be bad. The reason I want to call my abuse Christianity and not Satanism is because it wasn't presented to me as Satanism, it was presented to me as Christianity which is also presented to us as the good alternative. Everyone wants to be good, and we are told we can't be both good and bad at once, that we need to choose sides, so most people are Christians in their minds. And even those that are not Christian will often present as such because they want to be understood, because they know it's likely people will not think they are worth listening to unless they themselves think they are good. Since Christianity and good are used as synonyms, people who've never even read the bible will present to others as a believer.

The reason I think it's so important that I say this, that I've suffered abuse from Christianity, is not that I couldn't have suffered the same abuse presented to me with other names. The reason I think it's so important is because since then I have seen others abused from the same angle, and if relating the word Christianity to good means opening the door for bad things to be done without consequence by just calling them good, then this is something that needs to be on record somewhere.

What better place for record keeping than a Blockchain?

If I had to list the numerous ways in which I suffered abuse under the name Christianity I would not end this post today, but just to give you an idea, my parents refused to have doctors operate on me despite being their recommendation because they wanted a personal miracle. Today they would probably say I'm alive thanks to god, but what I remember is laying on bed as a child thinking how beautiful the climate and stars were for death to come and ease my suffering on that very night. Christianity taught me as a child to cherish the idea of death, saying otherwise as much as it may hurt some would be dishonest.

All while I'm writing this I'm very aware there may be those reading just waiting for this post to be over with so they can tell me they would never do that to their child and that there are good Christians, some may even be planning to tell me how the Christian god has helped them personally but please don't. I'm not interested. Please don't preach to me, after what I told you I would hope you'd understand why I don't like it. I know very well that not all who identify as Christians are bad people, I don't need convincing that your books have been corrupted and that I should give decrypting the bible another chance. If you are worried about the image of Christianity when I speak of crimes committed in its name, then just make sure to be the exception rather than tell me there are exceptions.

Christianity hurt me a lot as a child. The reason is because I've always had a very strong sense of right and wrong, it was the changing circumstances I didn't have a lot of experience with, but right and wrong one often feels.

Every time the bible would tell me to do something I knew was wrong, as much as my parents would tell me it was right I knew it was wrong. Even if I could bring myself to do those bad things telling myself it's all good, I still know better and it bothers me. That's why growing up I took to exploring my spirituality because I just couldn't shake these feelings off and I wanted to please this god I had been introduced to, but I also didn't want to be miserable.

I remember on one occasion we lost electricity in our house. We still have blackouts where I am from every day, it's part of living in a 3rd world country, but when I was younger they were even worse. I grew up with these circumstances, to me the electricity going out every day was a given. When I found out there was constant electricity in America I understood what the big fuss was about, haha. Anyways, the electricity had gone out and I was bored. I had imagined up until this point that when I lost electricity everyone in the country did, so I called my cousins on the phone to ask them how they were doing with the outage, to which they replied that they had electricity.

Something so simple, but for some reason that particular exchange had a very big impact on me. I think that's one of the first times I was wrong in one of my predictions by that young age, people would seem so repetitive I was finally getting a handle at life because I could see ahead and act ahead. Sadly shortly after I started acting on this knowledge I realized I didn't have all the knowledge so I couldn't really see ahead, I couldn't prepare, and here comes the uncertainty.

There was something I didn't have any doubts about from a young age and that was that my true self was not welcome. The incident with the electricity had made me take more of an observant stance in life, I needed to learn the world if I wanted to act more efficiently so I had to shut up and listen; but in my silence I discovered that I was different. When exploring these differences it became obvious that I couldn't rely on my parents to take care of me once they would realized what I was. Seeing how the people around me would act so negatively, like when I would use my preferred pronouns as a child, to then hear the preaching about sodomy and the constant vigilance of gender expression made me dig a little deeper into the origins of that rejection.

I figured I could find a way to be in Christianity, but the more I would try the sicker I would get. I was afraid of losing myself, I was afraid the constant repression would take me to explode and do something crazy, maybe even hurt people one day. Soon I had found myself thinking the way my parents taught me, the biblical way, us vs them. I didn't know I saw others but I did, especially because I couldn't see my place in the world, because I had been denied that place by being told people like me don't exist. I was alone and I had to fend for myself.

The mentality of thinking I was alone, that when I would let others in they would try hurting me or drag me down to ineffective ways, the mentality that I was better because I was Christian, drove me to seek isolation.

I simply didn't feel anyone could contribute anything good to me (maybe only god could) so I started convincing myself that I didn't need others. If you think you don't need others you are wrong and I hope you don't have to find out the wrong way. I did, I had to get sick, I had to wish you all dead before realizing I wanted the distance between us reduced instead of increased.

During my search for independence, which was in my mind simply the only way to survive given the magnitude of the insanity, I briefly considered positions of power as a career. I never liked politics, again, so I didn't really want to be a politician. To me politics is just drama and I like solutions. I figured I could join the armed forces, military, police, but those positions are very reliant on orders which I can follow just fine, as long as they don't get in the way of my conscious.

I considered the clergy for two reasons, because I thought celibacy could help me hide my uncommon desires and because the church is supposed to take care of you financially when you work for it. By this time I didn't believe in the Christian god and I knew my true self would surface eventually. So I was afraid of suffering hunger, being denied education, housing, etc. With the Catholic church I would eat, I'd have a chance at higher education, wouldn't need to fear unemployment and would be valued highly in the community. I was never a Catholic but this didn't really matter to me, I went to church twice a week for 12 years so I had the basics down at the very least. But I couldn't do it, I couldn't join a church because I had seen the impact of those teachings, I had suffered from them myself.

I didn't become a priest but I never gave up on my spirituality. After gaining regular access to the internet I continued to try to achieve my independence by the way of knowledge.

The Internet has been very good to me, I've said this in other posts, I don't know if I'd even be alive today without access. For once I was able to express myself about myself in the way I wanted to, I could interact with others on that basis, I could ask questions that were taboo otherwise. I started challenging everything that I thought I knew and realized I knew nothing. This was a very scary time to me all while it was exciting because it meant there was still hope. It was the internet that taught me in part that others can offer valuable knowledge.

For a little while I was what many would call a keyboard warrior, I was displeased and I wanted answers. I've always been very conscious about the fact that my spoken words have an impact on people, but it turns out the written word does too. At times I put more value on writing being able to move someone than the spoken words because tones can help with empathy, but the written word has to be interpreted in context. It's much more difficult to get a reaction from someone writing than it is speaking.

I've always been really shy, writing has been my way of letting out without getting others involved. I don't do much of it lately because I am not as tormented as I was when I was younger and felt alone in the world.

During my first day of high school I told the biggest lie I've ever told, besides "I don't want to me a man." I remember how I challenged one of the teachers on the methods being used to educate us and she asked me where I was from. Before then, every time someone had asked me where I was from it had happened under the same situation. I was complaining about something that was not being done correctly, and they were asking me where I was from so that when I would tell them I was local, they could tell me that if I was local I already knew "that's just the way things are done here." So I was tired of this scapegoat and when she asked about my nationality I lied hoping she would answer my question. Instead she told me that she didn't know how things were done where I was from but "that's just the way things are done here."

The worst thing about this experience was seeing how people for once started treating me differently, they were curious about me because they thought I was a foreigner. This wouldn't had been a big deal if only a lie didn't need to be kept alive with more lies, I really dislike lying.

I survived high school somehow, even got to miss it a few years later. If one thing I learned in high school was the power of perception. I became really good at speaking to people, getting my point across verbally. I wasn't really bullied by my mates ever, it was the school staff that came after me when the difference between me and the rest became more apparent after puberty.

A few weeks short of my 18 birthday I killed myself. I basically decided that I would inject my body for life with chemicals for a shot at being able to recognize myself in a mirror risking a painful death in the process. I had been working since I was fifteen to make this happen; waking up at 6 am to be in school by 7 am, to then come out of school at 1:30 am, maybe make it home by 2:00 pm and be at work from 4:00 pm to midnight.

I remember right before starting HRT, same-sex marriage, the possibility, was being discussed in my country of residence. I would hear how people would refer to what could very well be me in their eyes with terms I wouldn't use for any human, I guess this is around the time I gave up on the world liking me and decided to like myself instead. I was about to finish high school and everyone would soon go after their dreams. The problem is that I never really had any dreams but not to suffer so much, I couldn't have any dreams because I wasn't even people, I was an abomination.

I killed myself because not only am I risking early death to date with this treatment, but I also killed myself because I accepted that loving myself could mean that no one else ever would, no one else would ever look after me.

To be honest, I was very surprised at how people reacted when I came out as transgender. Of course, a couple of people stopped talking to me but not nearly as many as I thought. On the contrary, they were congratulating me for my bravery and this was even before the whole trans-media-frenzy in a little developing island. I'm sure there were people speaking ill about me, specially considering I transitioned while at work so I had many witnesses, but they never told me to my face. All I got to my face were questions coming from sincere curiosity and compliments. Some people even told me I could count on them if I needed anything, my post ultimately has the goal of making you see how important unity is, but don't make the mistake of believing people when they tell you that you can count on them.

The truth is that as much as those people may mean good, they won't help you because they may not be able to. It was nice hearing people telling me that they wanted to help me, but finding out they wouldn't was devastating.

Again, I was in fend for yourself mode. But this time it was worse because I knew what males feel when they hear "women and children first." I was already becoming familiar with the reality of men in society, the truth beyond the common misconception that the world is made for men. You think you are being persecuted? You think your freedom is being taken? Try being a male-looking person and sitting alone at a park where there are children around.

Now not only I had to find a way to sustain my own existence to old age like most other people, I also had to do it with others thinking I was a danger because of my perceived gender on hormone replacement therapy. When I tried speaking about the struggles of women in society I never had a problem, but the minute I started talking about what men go through things became hostile.

There is no manual to be transgender, only in recent years have people begun to even think about the things we experience so our treatment is being discussed. For me to be able to do what I did I had to do my own research, this wasn't handed to me, I had to work for it too. This is when I begun to take an interest in politics again, when I realized I wasn't alone and therefore something had to be done for my kind. We never figured we'd be taken seriously, when I started entertaining the idea of government assistance for matters like this I did so while networking with other trans people online. But these people were from other countries, where I am from I wouldn't expect the government to help me when they don't help anyone at all.

In a way, discussing these political issues among ourselves was a way into self-discovery. We just wanted to know what was happening to us in order to be able to address it best, so there was all kind of speculation going on for a while in these online groups.

We didn't think we could make a difference but we set ourselves out to be seen anyways, and soon enough after a couple of good memes and youtube videos people started paying attention and flooding our groups out of curiosity. You'd see a lot of sexual proposals, people would come into the groups to preach or insult others, so soon enough the groups had rules and moderators. I figured the rules were for others, that's the beginning of safe spaces as I experienced it, the rules were being made because a lot of us were there for science and not to get laid. A lot of us were also stealth, meaning no one knew we were trans so letting everyone in the groups didn't seem like a good idea.

For a little while the rules kinda worked, people would be warned before getting banned and often this would only happen for insults. But then I started seeing the mobs. I get that it gets old people calling you by a name you don't respond to, especially when you have created a group to isolate yourself from that in a way, but slowly people were forgetting that most of the time the harmful treatment was not intentional. It seemed like the frequency of the encounters was slowly making them see them as attacks, and in this case the lack of tone from verbal communication in the internet was playing into feelings of resentment over the trauma of a denied existence.

It didn't take long before I got banned myself. When I started questioning this idea of patriarchy that was being spread by mods on almost all the groups online, when I started questioning why female toxicity wasn't being discussed, I went from being an example of a civilized internet commentator to just another bigot. The last straw was when I asked whether it was possible for someone to be triggered by the word trigger, it only makes sense for a person to think of their own triggers when they hear the word if they recognize the trauma as such. The point of me asking that question is that sometimes overprotecting can harm but the mods were not having it. At some point I even entertained the possibility that these people could be infiltrating the groups with this ideology on purpose, because of timing and the similarities on how this went down on several groups at once, basically a take-over.

When Chelsea Manning was on trial, the subject was censored all together in most trans groups online. The excuse was that every time the subject was discussed people'd lose their temper, that it was a sensitive subject, that later they would uncensor these conversations. But that never happened, and if they ever did allow people to speak about Manning I was already banned from the groups by then.

After Chelsea was banned you know who else was? Jenner! We weren't allowed to speak about that either. We weren't allowed to speak about much now that I think about it. The only thing we were really encouraged to do in these groups was give each other compliments and post about the evil white rich men and their ignorance. My self-esteem was not as bad as for me to stick around in feel-good groups, I still wanted the truth, so I stopped frequenting the few groups I hadn't been banned from.

Life is too difficult for me to make it more difficult on myself. I figured I had spent enough time theorizing about the perfect world so I just went on to live my life. But then people, in my own country, started approaching me asking for help because they knew what I had done.

I couldn't help them, I could barely help myself. I was self-medicating and didn't want this to be seen as acceptable by other people because I knew the dangers. Still, I couldn't just ignore the ones who were coming to me to ask for help. There was one guy in particular who was very excited about the prospect of starting Hormone Replacement Therapy, so I referred him to a non-profit that at the time was dealing with HIV+ trans women hoping they could maybe help a trans man. They did sorta help him, gave him a document talking about some of the medical risks for him to read but that was about it.

When this guy returned from the non-profit, he came back with the idea that he and I should make a group, he told me the people at the non-profit had said they would help us. I didn't want to deal with it, I was too busy with my life, but I figured if some resources could be put together then maybe others like me wouldn't have to suffer as much in the future. A few days later I went to the non-profit to offer myself as a volunteer, but I forgot to introduce myself a transsexual person and I guess they didn't see how a straightie could contribute. I am very shy, but I tried my best to be noticed while I was there to no avail.

This experience was so frustrating for me that I left the place angry, I felt humiliated, how could they not see how valuable I was? I left the place telling myself that someday those people would come back to me begging for help, and then forgot about them.

In my mind I had tried to do activism, beyond the keyboard, and I was rejected. If they didn't want my help I'd just help myself.

So I went on to live my life, and I was actually pretty happy when mostly offline. About two years later all of the sudden not only gay was okay but trans was a thing, a very loud thing. Once again I was overly exposed to the subject, especially since Obama had appointed a gay Ambassador to one of the most Catholic countries in the world and I was trapped in the country.

One of my biggest fears was, and still kinda is, that people can associate LGBT to America just like they associate Christianity to good. If you live in the US then you probably don't think it's a big deal to be associated, but when you live in Latin America being associated to gringos is not always a good thing. Whether you want to believe it or not, your government is involved in some very shady dealings and I have enough on my plate being considered by many to be a pervert for just looking like I do.

Foreseeing a possible destabilization of the region because of this particular diplomatic play, I decided to lay down my keyboard once more and give activism another try.

Because I was afraid of my own country turning its back on me, because I was afraid one day someone could declare my citizenship invalid, I decided to come out again. I had tried to hang out with other LGBT before but I never could make friendships because all they wanted to do was party and I can't even dance. To make matters worse it was a highly sexualized environment because of the repression but I had no interest in exploring my sexuality, I've never had an issue with sex, just the with body I have sex with. That's the reason why despite being sexual from a very young age, I couldn't bring myself to be sexual with another, because I couldn't bring myself to do anything, because there wasn't even a myself but an attempt to give the world what they thought I had to be.

I came out and showed my face to the entire country (and the internet) so that they couldn't send me elsewhere, so they couldn't just say I don't exist. And I'm glad I did it because with the amount of people coming to live here running from conflict in different parts of the world, there may soon be some deportations. I value few things more than my privacy, but if I get locked up because some cop thinks my ID is fake since the state won't let me change it, then I won't have any privacy at all.

In the time I was doing activism I noticed several things that I wish to bring to your attention.

The first thing I noticed was how similar the whole thing was to school. Groups are formed where you'd sit in a circle, a problem is assigned and the group is supposed to come to a conclusion about it and perhaps even a recommendation.

My main goal in doing activism was to secure my persona enough socially so that in the case of forces trying to sway the public into taking measures against my kind, people would remember that they've already dealt with me and are still unharmed. I wanted people to know we don't bite. So I showed everyone I came across the most human part of myself and said yes to everything I didn't absolutely have to say no to for about two years.

Before I knew it I was speaking on radio shows, giving my local government recommendations through the UN about how to best protect human rights. It didn't take 6 months before I was up on a plane, traveling with other people's money to sit around in circles talking about subjects that have already been spoken about at length and cracking jokes. I was staying at expensive hotels where everything was included in a price I never paid. My job was to go to different places, meet a couple of people and find some common ground with them, then sit around and talk about what someone else needs to do to make the world a better place while someone else takes notes.

In a way it was like an upgraded version of school and the group assignments there. After we come to the conclusion someone needs to stand in front of the room and break it down to the rest of the class.

Me? I wasn't there for the possibility of money, I already had a job. I wasn't there to make friends either, didn't want more disappointment. I wasn't there for the food, though admittedly it tends to be the best thing about those meetings. I was there fending for myself, trying to secure a social future that had been denied to me. I was there because as much you may think it's wrong that teachers can give people like me a hard time in school, you won't do anything about it. If I can't go to school then my job options are limited, if the government doesn't see I'm working then that's how it comes out in their records. What happens if I want a loan? What happens if I want to rent? I could be earning more than a surgeon does but if the government doesn't know it then I'm not making anything. How can I then prove, for example, that I am not selling my body for a living? As a woman I can be unemployed, but an unemployed man is a criminal in the eyes of the law.

When I shake a presidential hand I don't do it in hopes I can gain some favor with an influential figure later on, I do it, or I have, because I can. Because there was a whole bunch of people who told me I never could, because those people said that I'd always be pariah. Because my own mother told me I shouldn't hang out with LGBT people when she saw me on a picture, and her logic was that if they crowdfunded money they wouldn't have enough to even order a meal to share. So what do I do? In whatever little spare time I have I do all the things people dream about doing, the things they work for a lifetime to earn, and I do them just because I can.

Maybe this is just my way of coping since I never really got to develop any dreams aside from just being myself and now I got some spare time, maybe that's why I end up taking over collective dreams. Or maybe I get to do all these things with little effort to show you it's not such a big deal, so that you reconsider your wants, because this stuff can't make you happy.

I remember this one time I went to a cocktail party with some VIP. This event was in celebration of the director of USAID's birthday and I had never before been inside an occupied mansion. Looking at the walls in this house, they were decorated with different type of masks. I can imagine how someone who works politics for a living would often feel like they are wearing a mask, sometimes I even had to massage my face from smiling so much at the end of the day and I was never a full time politician like she is. I honestly felt sorry for her, if that's the reason why she decorates with masks. I realized that I was at her house, celebrating her birthday, and just a few hours before I had googled her name to know who in the hell she was. Imagine having to celebrate your birthday surrounded by strangers because of your career...I couldn't do that.

I had a date waiting for me at home while I was at this cocktail party, she kept sending me pictures with little clothing to my phone from my own bed so I wasn't really there to be honest. I was just making time to fill my diplomatic quota for the day and go home. When choosing between red and white wine I'd always go for the white at these events, though I prefer red, because it's easier to hide the stain if it spills. I don't know what was happening to me that night but I kept spilling my drink. That's why I decided to take a seat and make time sitting down, drinking, playing on my phone. There I am, people would kill for the kind of connections I had access to in that single evening but I couldn't care less. The birthday girl then summoned me, she was standing next to some of her peers talking in this circle. They saw me sitting alone and they actually invited me to come join them. I told them, jokingly, that I wasn't very outgoing and that's why I was drinking, to warm up my charisma. They laughed and told me I had nothing to worry about because I had made it to the introvert group.

I never had any issues with the high ranks, my only problem were poor activists who couldn't understand I had no agenda and thought I was in it after money and/or credit. Everything was well, as long as I kept going to the events and smiling for the pictures. But after a while I noticed I was spending a lot of money in these events, I had sit still enough to know the ritual by heart. The ritual of sitting around in circles, talking about issues that have been talked about, offering solutions that have already been offered. I guess I was bored and wanted to take a more active role in the organizing of these activities. That's how I got to the subject of money for the first time in this context, and that's also how I made my first enemy.

In my eyes she is not my enemy, but it seems she has made it her mission to make one of me. When I started asking about the funds available so I could help with planning, I was ignored. I asked again and was ignored. When I made it clear that I wasn't backing away from the subject, the first meeting about me without me was hosted, and that's when I realized what I had gotten myself into. Soon it became obvious that the focus of the people who had taken me in, the people who had rejected me when I first tried to do activism and had come back begging as predicted, was never to help anyone else. While I was looking after my own security, I never stopped looking after the future of those like me because I had been getting those opportunities to do just that. I knew the trans subject would fade away, and I wanted to do some good for the lives of trans people, including me, before that would happen.

But she was just jumping on a popular subject she thought she could cash into. And I wouldn't had minded, at all, if she had been honest. But she was not only dishonest, when she realized that I was catching up to her scam she got scared that I could expose her and took to trying to discredit my name. It got to a point to where she was calling people up, or showing up in their house, because she heard I had been hanging out with them casually and she wanted to know what we were up to, what we were talking about.

The last thing I remember myself doing, though I shall keep her name to myself for now, is running because she was literally chasing me down some stairs. She was risking my life and her own, literally threatening to break my face and calling me a thief I guess because she was afraid I'd take the lead and let everyone know that's what she was doing. I never meant to, I just didn't want her to hurt others the way she had tried to hurt me. If she's reading this now I just want to tell her that I have no hard feelings, and that I should not speak of her mistakes so long as she stays away from trans activism. If I ever see her trying to cash out on trans people I am telling with detail, I'll even post a picture for the world to see her face.

I've kept this story to myself because the last thing we needed for people to take us seriously is have headlines talking about us getting violent like that, having internal issues. But in my experience that's much of what activism is. People screwing each other over money, just like in politics. The only difference is the money in activism is considerably less, in all those years I didn't see a whole $100 dollars. The way we are rewarded is in food and travel, scholarships, not with actual money, at least not rockies like me.

Right before this person lashed out, she first tried managing me with sex. That's where the satanic commentary comes from, if you thought I had forgotten. I decided to end that relationship completely that night, because when she couldn't get her way with sex, she actually suggested that she would approach some of the guys that were frequenting the group of trans people I had put together. We're talking about young guys, some of them still teens, and this chick was telling me that she was going to put them through the same hell? I couldn't allow that.

We are talking about people who are extremely vulnerable, every time I'd get a chance to speak I'd make sure to stress this part, and this girl thought it would be a good idea to fuck them? These guys were trusting her with the most intimate things because they had no one else to turn to and this is what she decides to do with that trust? Let me not ever hear her again even speaking about the subject of trans people, because if I do I will forget I don't believe in prisons and I will pay to have her arrested.

A few days ago I was watching some videos about MK-ultra in relation to ritual abuse. The subject of Pizzagate is still alive, and while there seems to be less talk about it in relation to Satanism people keep making the connection. This connection has kept me from taking the subject seriously not because I don't believe there are pedophiles in positions of power. I am sure there are many people who've struggled with their sexuality in positions of power, that'd be the first place I'd expect to find them. But because I know a Christian church is more dangerous in that respect to children than any Satanist temple, I'm hesitant to play into that connection.

In this video a young woman discusses how she was sold into sexual slavery by her father who would also molest her. She was saying that people in government discovered how children who were victims of sexual abuse tend to suffer more from multiple identity disorders which made perfect grounds for espionage since the secrets could stay hidden with one of the personalities while the other personality remained ignorant of that information. I'm watching this video and realized this is very much possible, we know children that are abused like this tend to disassociate as a coping mechanism. If they could train these personalities, if these identities could be brought forward on demand as I've seen it done under hypnosis, then I don't see a reason why the government wouldn't do it. I would actually bet on the government doing it, specially if it meant cheap/free labor.

I don't believe in no devil or god, but I know there's more to what we see. My complex history with human sexuality tells me that people are especially vulnerable in sex, so that would be a very good time to program another human being. In that respect, sexual magic can be a real thing. That doesn't mean sexual magic has to be bad, I'm sure you can program other things too, like a person could learn to feel comfortable sharing their body with another and that's something to celebrate. But even if good things can be achieved by having sex with purpose other than pleasure and reproduction, I have no doubt the same goes for bad things.

I don't know about sexual images though, I'm sure many children have seen their parents going at it and they turned out fine. However, a violent sexual act witnessed by a child may leave a different kind of impression. Especially if the ritual involves blood and the infant is already familiar with their own.

Just today I was watching a documentary about secret societies and if you look into those you'll notice how rituals involving sex often come up. Lately here I've been thinking the rituals are not really about sex, but creating an intimate connection between the participants, a shared memory, a secret. I can see why secret societies would have an interest in its members creating bonds with each other. The drugs from sexual activity could do that just fine. Rituals involving pain, such a sodomy which usually makes reference to forced penetration, could be a way to develop tolerance to demanding circumstances like torture.

There is one god in politics and it's called money, there is no Jehovah and much less Satan. That narrative is for the voters, not for the candidates, please don't waste your time entertaining these ideas.

I think it's a mistake to call what these people are doing Satanism, because it was Jehovah who asked Abraham to sacrifice his son. It was god himself who supposedly sacrificed his son. So if anyone has a history of child sacrifice that would be the Christian god and not the Christian devil.

How do we know we are not being sold into Christianity so that we lose sensitivity to sacrificing children?

How do we know the bible is not symbolism so we send our men to die in war and sacrifice themselves like the Christ supposedly did for our freedom?

Occultism? Maybe that would be a better name, I've heard some people use it instead of Satanism. Anything that references the control of information would be a good name for them. But not Satanism, that makes no sense. The only way that makes sense is from the perspective of a Christian who couldn't possibly believe another Christian could do those things.

Even if it were Satanism, even if the biblical god were real, blaming government sanctioned pedophilia on Satan is a mistake because then we'd have to solve it resorting to god. If it were a matter of wishing god would fix this none of us would be making any effort to improve things. Blaming things on Satan is a similar scapegoat to "that's just the way things are done here." What are we going to do? We can't fight Satan, we can't even find the guy! So I guess in that case we'd just need to wait for god to solve it. I'm betting all them kids are begging god for help every day but I can assure you that their prayers will never be answered.

We are the only ones that can answer those prayers because we are real and neither god or satan are.

I see a lot of people trashing collectivism over individualism, but trust me when I tell you that no politician is a collectivist, politicians don't profit from unity, they profit from division.

To this day I want to be left alone, I still don't like to rely on people too much. But I now understand that we need each other, even if we don't like the idea. We can come together, but we can't come together by force and I believe that's what a lot of people are afraid of. They are afraid to be forced into a system that doesn't work for them, maybe they've lost hope a system to benefit all can be created at all, so they are fending for themselves.

---