Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Not all energy vampires are pure evil

Not all energy vampires are pure evil; some of them are just too dysfunctional, fearful and lazy to generate their own energy. Those spiritually and psychologically immature people are the ones allied with the KaBal faction that keeps me deprived of the testosterone I need to function. Those are the ones infatuated with a crippled female avatar, or any featureless Rorschach blob which can serve as an anima figure for their needy, immature selves. Just like teeny boppers fall in love with TV and pop stars, nudie mag girls, and sports heroes, they want a spiritual avatar from which to steal energy, rather than work at finding and liberating their own spiritual energy. It is not surprising that religious traditionalists are involved with this faction, because religious fundamentalists are the worst offenders at idolatrously coveting a spiritual life that they lack in themselves, because they deny their own human impulses and gifts. I am trapped by these fundamentalists, denied the male hormone, testosterone, that I need to live out on my own human impulses and gifts in a creative and productive manner. I drag through life, spending about 12-15 hours a day sleeping. I can not do even simple tasks, like clean my kitchen, or cook food. For three days, I have been trying to get the energy to write three Christmas cards to my immediate family, but I do not have enough initiative to do even that, much less call them. I am barely able to stay abreast of current events, but have no energy to read any of the backlog material that I have bookmarked for research. But the energy vampires are still out to suck every last drop of life that they can get from me. In my previous post, I commented on how I need to close off my energy boundaries, but because high estrogen makes me overwhelmingly passive and energetically defenseless, I am unable to present or maintain any kind of boundaries, whatsoever. I am the juvenile's wet dream anima girl, with absolutely no personality or definition of my own--just there for whatever anyone wants to project on me. I am certain that if I were a woman, high estrogen would work well in my physiological system to keep me protected and productive, but I am not a woman, and the estrogen just turns me into a vegetative and prostituted spiritual slave. I read an article today that there are an estimated 27 million slaves in the world right now--overwhelmingly women who have been involuntarily sold into sexual prostitution, often when they are still young children. To read their stories is truly heartrending. Because I am so imaginative, I try to envision what kind of man would want to have a brief sexual encounter with a girl or woman who is psychologically and spiritually broken and passive--a slave, and I just cannot. Yet the female hormones put me in a state of submissive accessibility that is akin to a spiritual slavery, until, of course, I recognize what is happening, and push back. So, it happened today. I walked up and down the alley a few times, and all the energy vampires came crawling out of the wood work. In a way it was good, for I got to see the occupants who work in the house that the Templars remodeled months ago--yep, still Faction 2, spiritual slave-types. The incident that really pissed me off was when a Hispanic man came walking down the alley carrying bags of aluminum cans. I live downtown, where a lot of people forage for cans, and when I see them, I always offer them my recycling bag of cans, since it isn't worth it to me to take them to a recycling center myself. This guy, though, didn't get the message--that I was happy to give him a few cans and nothing more. He crossed the line and started talking about my "bonita" hat. It is a boys hat, trimmed with faux fur. I bought it for its warmth, but I almost pulled it off to reveal my shorn head, and burst out, "Soy lesbiana". Instead, I just waved him off in disgust, telling him, "adios". Set-up or not, I do not know, because over the last three years, i have recognized that when I am on drugs or estrogen, low self-esteem men gravitate to me like flies. Once, as I walked into a corner store to buy a gallon of water, some guy muttered, "puta" under his breath to me. I was too low-energy to even fire back--believe me, I can defend myself, but it requires a lot of energy that I just don't have when I am drugged or on estrogen. I know who I am--I am just incapable of being myself right now--however, all the damned energy vampires, looking for a girl-child, spiritual avatar on which to feed, be warned that I will fight my battles--its just that I pick and choose which ones are worth the energy expenditure to fight for. I don't care if some idiot calls me a "puta", but by God, I feel sorry for the pig who lays his hands on me, as if I were a "puta". Just saying...

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