How do you manufacture the emotional subproletariat?

dream from many years ago during teen years:

I was on an island that I could simply never get off of. there were ducks but their eyes were just spinning spirals; they were totally hypnotized and internally mis-wired to wander pointlessly in their spiral consciousness.

I got to the edge of the beach and looked down at my reflection in the water. I was amazed to see my reflection as I had been on an island and never seen myself. I was a horse-like character, perhaps with some unicorn as well. I decided I must try to leave the island so I began to swim across the ocean. I was sure to always be swimming directly away from the shore and from the island but each attempt inexplicably resulted in my return to a beach on the same island. I was totally confused and demoralized…I tried to swim away several times always making certain that it was a direction away from the island but without fail each attempt resulted in the same bizarre result: return to the island. It seemed geographically impossible yet it was a reality inexplicably imposed upon me. I saw the ducks with their spiral eyes and knew that it was only an outside element that would allow them to change. their spiral madness could never be changed by themselves. something outside, like a lightning bolt from outside the spiral that was their minds had to intervene.

I remembered this dream ever since because it seems to represent my condition as a broken and controlled person. How do you break a person for life? The parents who would be the ones to allow the person to build the tools they would need to cope with problems deliver an irrevocable ‘first strike advantage’ by crippling the person even before that basic building block is safely imparted. From then on, no matter what challenges arise that other people with ‘problems’ would struggle with but overcome, this person will simply never even be able to struggle properly.

And then, as soon as the person turns eighteen, and as they get older and older, the other humans will be less and less willing to address the fact that the parents had initiated the first strike and passively fostered the ongoing carnage. Now the person simply becomes an inferior animal with bad character in relation to the other humans.

That is roughly the story of my life. But my spiral madness retained one thing: I have a good memory and I know that I was, am, and will likely always be right on this matter. The satanic comforts of psychotherapy and social consensus will not fool me into forgetting what really happened and where the blame truly lies.

To be very remote I would begin by placing blame upon the red tory british imperialists who mismanaged their colonial white man’s burden and consequently created a crippled monstrosity in my biological father. I would also blame my french grandparents and particularly my grandfather (who was almost certainly Jewish but whose past and ethnicity was conspicuously deleted from all awareness) because my biological mother was evidently abused and ended up being a low-self esteem zero. I could then also blame the forces that conspired to dupe low-self esteem zeros and colonial campus pakis into thinking that leftist liberalism was honest and promising and that they should adopt its pseudo culture and ideology to convince themselves that they can be real people too, and even delude themselves into thinking they should marry each other, willfully blind to the disaster that will unfold in the lives that they produce when they breed.

But mostly I blame my biological parents, the social and emotional cripples who were willfully blind and used me to try to create an artificial stage life for themselves while just fucking letting me die slowly and painfully. Just sitting back and watching the carnage unfold each day, week after week, month after month, year after year after year.

Oh sure, there were also bad canadians (whites mostly but even some well placed non-whites) and some pretty bad teachers. But really, that is trivial when compared to the obligation and impact of my parents’ neglect. No real role models, no mentoring, being placed at the bottom of a mafia-like hierarchy and punished for deviating from their unsustainable anti-social cult while my older sister went along with it and stepped on me like a kapo. Denying me self-esteem and validation, let alone opportunity to learn social skills to fit into any community, even one made up of outsiders (!), and turning on me when I fail to meet their mentally ill desires of academic success when all the while they also secretly want me to become everything that they claim they are against.

But the one thing they took away from me that I can never never never forgive is the ability to have girlfriends, to know good bonding and good sex with healthy attractive women. That is something that all involved will unfortunately pay for forever, as has been happening.

Hey, small miracles do happen, it needs to be said even in the bleakness of honesty. I finally found a reasonably adequate female to try to make a life with and that was just sheer luck (which is a whole other entry I won’t share right now). So something good in the universe does co-exist with the general evil. But that’s after the first half of my life was stolen and what’s left is always going to be disabled as a result.

How to get off the island? Someone or something from outside would have had to intervene to save the unicorn before it turned into an island goblin. But that never happened. Now the goblin tries to communicate with smoke signals to another goblin on another island. It’s ok, she’s nice, she’s pretty. But it will never be two healthy people on the mainland together.


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