Ending…I am finished with the cult. My mind is closed to their control. I have died, not an actual death, just I ceased being the person who was controlled.
Beginning…I have entered a new consciousness & begun a spiritual regeneration. It is my coming into being. The Ending is complete & its residual facade is melting away. The visual imagery is a fading memory of bumps & bruises. Now, I am entering a new progression. A new life, a new journey has begun.
A Metamorphosis…I am changing my form & taking on the shape of a butterfly. I am flowing with the warmth of a summer breeze traveling up from the southern climes. My transformation is recorded in the myths & transpires through the power of magic & sorcery. My form as a newly awakened butterfly is the result of a strongly held belief in the possibility of such a mystical change occurring. Also, it is caused by such a remarkable & complete change in my inner character, which manifests outwardly in a radical alteration in behavior & appearance.
I am just not who I was or ever will be again. The transformation into my present form is complete, but I expect changes will occur as growth & time evolve. The passage of the life I recently departed, found me trapped in a web I unknowingly chose. It felt free enough, but there was always a recurring sensation of wrongness about it.
We don’t know always what we are in when we’re in the middle of it. If you fall into the deep end of a swimming pool & you know you can’t swim, it never crosses your mind that you actually might be drowning. Your thoughts are more on, ‘Who is going to get me out of here?’ Now, if no one does rescue you, you are most probably going to take your last breath. I don’t speak blindly of such cases. For, as I tell you this story, you will see that I was rescued. From drowning.
First, I must tell you about the cult.
Let me start with a famous character from literary history, Fagin, his very self, from the musical ‘Oliver’ & directly from the pages of Charles Dickens’ ‘Oliver Twist.’ He, Fagin, that is, gathered up innocent, orphaned, homeless children. He trained them in the art of thievery, picking pockets & such. One day, along comes the orphan Oliver, homeless & on the run, a perfect match for Fagin.
A decent analogy of how I found myself in the middle of the bloody cult. I came from a background, not exactly Oliver’s, but a nightmare all the same. Yet, with Oliver & me, our ‘innocence’ was a blessing. Maybe it helped us survive & not lose our souls through each evil bestowed upon us. It also made us perfect for the plucking.
The evil in this story, I do not believe was a test. It was something that came after us. But the strength of our ‘innocence’ stood as a barrier against the darkness of evil, as the Cross & the lack of an invitation keep the Vampire at bay. Fagin lost Oliver & his family found him. As for my story, I will tell you the beginning, middle & the end.
I wasn’t made a thief, instead I was made a slave. The use of the word slave fits the parameters of the definition: a person who is completely dominated by the strong, charismatic influence of a person wielding complete control through manipulation & the causing of emotional duress if there is not complete obedience.
In my situation, said person was the leader of the aforementioned cult. The cult goes by the name C.R.E.E.P. [Creative Reputations Earning Enormous Pride]. The leader is an alpha female, a devourer of babies, kittens & puppies. You know I am exaggerating, right? Okay.
No, but seriously, Her Highness (as I will refer to her from now on) does devour people who are precious, vulnerable & innocent. She surrounds herself with a mirage she has created, made from the faux magicians’ favorite mystifiers, ‘smoke & mirrors’ & slight of hand. She has created what I now call ‘The Invisible Funhouse.’ All her worker bees gather across time & space to listen to her orders & follow them out as commanded. They are bowing to her glory, for all they do is for the complete benefit of promoting Her Highness & selling the product: Her.
Minor offerings of notice go out for a small portion of the worker bees. It makes Her Highness appear legit. A perfect disguise among the innocent in need of being considered worthy. The truth is most of them are much, much more worthy & magnificent than Her Highness has ever a chance of being.
I believe Her Highness lost her hold over me when she began ordering me about as though it was her right. Instead, it was one of her greatest mistakes with me. She had no rights or hold on me. When I saw what was behind the curtain or mask, I saw she was Green from wickedness, envy & wealth. There wasn’t an ounce of caring. What little she did for others was to keep up the façade & only if it benefited her. Noticing someone meant they did the work, while Her Highness always reaped the Honey. Look how wonderful Her Highness is for helping that poor worker bee out. Helping her get noticed. When all the time she was the one always receiving the attention & rewards.
Everything blew up between us when a former bee, my friend, returned for me. You see, I had no idea I was drowning, but my friend knew. And that I needed help. Her Highness ordered me to stop having contact with my friend. She didn’t exactly refer to her in that way. She was much less polite. I rebelled. I told her no. So began the confrontation that soon turned into a nightmare. Her Highness retaliated – told me that I could not be her favorite any longer. It didn’t change my mind. She told me our friendship was over. We would just maintain a professional relationship.
Keep in mind, I didn’t work for her. None of her worker bees work for her. All the busy work & hard labor is done for free, for the honor just to BEE around Her Highness. It’s a form of hypnosis. Her Highness was doing nothing, but was really the only one who benefited & received the rewards. Her Highness was being glorified for creating nothing but a PRIDE MACHINE. Created & masterminded by Her Highness. What Powered the PRIDE MACHINE was the crushed & manipulated dreams of the worker bees. Totally unaware, they, were complete & utter slaves to Her Highness. She fed on their creative energy & the imaginations of the True Artists she controlled.
I, also, had a dream she crushed. I trusted in her truth. She told me we would be friends forever. Love, caring & trust was my dream. She crushed those in me. While she was doing that, she stole my confidence in myself as an artist, & she made an evil attempt at stealing my sanity. Still I didn’t want to let her go.
All I have written came gradually into my awareness only after I was out of Her Highness’s clutches. But until then I slowly began slipping away from her, bit by bit. Then one day she returned. All was as it was before. No mention of the friendship being over or of my friend the former bee. She spoke to me in confidence, as a friend would do, until she started talking about another of my worker-bee friends she had helped.
Her Highness was speaking badly of my friend. He had escaped C.R.E.E.P. and she wanted me to cut off all contact with him. I didn’t say a word. I did know I wasn’t going to do what Her Highness had ordered. The very next night Her Highness contacted me. It was all about the ex-worker bee, and his personal betrayal. I tried to give rationales for the ex-bee’s behaviour but Her Highness couldn’t hear, & to tell the truth, in that moment, I began not giving a sh*t any more. Her aura of true darkness resonated in my sight. Her personal lack of depth & caring was blaring through in the sound of her voice.
I walked away & turned my back to the evil. My friends, who were now both ex-worker bees were safe. I was not yet out of her grasp. I received a message from one of my ex-bee friends telling me she had to go away. Being too close to Her Highness was dangerous. There was no way of knowing what she might do when she was so livid. She wished me well & gave me a way to contact her. It was extremely painful receiving her message. It also made it abundantly clear that I needed to make a serious & binding decision. I had to get away from Her Highness.
I told a few worker bees I trusted of my plans. Only I needed to go away & I would miss them. The message to Her Highness, I sent long after I was gone: Good bye. Then I just disappeared & have had no contact since. That is not saying she hasn’t tried to find me or send out messages for me. No response from me at all, except to destroy reminders of her anywhere I find them.
I was rescued before I drowned, though I didn’t recognize I was in such treacherous waters, I managed to grab hold tight to my friend’s outreached hand & opened arms, as she pulled me safely ashore onto a new land, into a new life.
Writing this account is my way of closing the door almost entirely. I write the word almost to mean her evil presence is still out there & active, crushing more dreams & making false promises, & no one sees the evil truth in her magical façade. Only after the damage is done & the believers lose their innocence, is the truth seen. ‘Innocence’ blocks the evil from being seen, yet, somehow evil can always pick out the ‘innocent.’
The most horrible evil exists in her & the most horrible lie of them all. For, again and again, Her Highness proclaims, “Everyone has the right to their ‘innocence,” & then she steals it away.
I am now plotting a different course, heading toward a future, into a world with seers who are honest & true, creative & real. And I feel the love. There is plenty to go around & to share. And ‘Innocence’ abounds freely.