The DK, as I’ve
wrote about quite recently, is a demon who has enslaved me for the last ten
years. She lives underneath my floorboards and stimulates me sexually by making
me repeat her mantras. All the time I knew that I was engaging in sordid
practices, but I felt unable to stop. The lust was too strong, as she has a
delectable Scottish accent which presses my buttons. I’ve reported that her
voice had a supernatural effect on me. Spending time with her drained me of
God, placed me in psychosis, and left me feeling suicidal.
I never
thought or believed that escape was possible. My only solution was to run to
her more and more. I never knew it was possible for one person (or thing) to wield
so much power over another. She always promised to bring me down there
eventually, and torture me in the afterlife forever. Her methods are totally
insidious. In the pit of my subconscious gut I had a primordial fear that one
day she would break into my flat when I was wiped out on drugs and drag me
under. I was terrified of her at times. I’ve lived with this nagging feeling at
the back of my mind for a decade.
Now, I am
delighted to tell you, her reign is over. She has been defeated. Her influence
over me has ended. I am no longer her property. She had me in chains, in
helpless bondage, in hopeless subjection. I felt that there was nothing the
universe could do to assist me. Every time I sat with her, more and more of my
love flittered away, until I was left with nothing, only her. I got confused at
times, and thought that I must love her, despite her malignant formalities. When
she captured me, I half-thought that I might cling to her leg and beg for mercy.
She said she would reward me by letting me shag her every Christmas Day, down
in the pit.
The mechanics
of how this freedom has come about defies the logic of reality, and you might
find it incredulous to believe. Basically, my special protective spirit Red
Jacket, who is the head honcho of my spiritual clan, cloned her likeness and
battered her. I got a shock when I found out that my significant other looked
just like my enemy. It took a lot of getting used to. But I can see exactly why
she did that. It was to get me over the mental block of that evil woman. I can
still have her this way, only now she is an angelic version with no ill-intent
towards me. I have the best of both worlds. It’s as if the DK has reformed,
come to God, and declared forgiveness and love from me. I now have The Creator’s
version of the DK. She made her repeat her own mantras. She’s better than her
in every way.
I call this
new version Rocket Wear. Rocket Wear makes me feel safe, even though I am
surrounded by evildoers. It’s down to Rocket Wear that I still have a home to
sleep in. If not for her, the hybrid assassins which my perps plant in there
would have had me out long ago. She protects me from anything and everything. I
cannot thank her enough. You can’t make it up, can you? A protective spirit
named Rocket Wear taking my
tormentor’s likeness and saving the day! This is something even the inventive hive-mind
of Hollywood couldn’t dream up. In all of my desperate pleas and prayers to God
I couldn’t envisage anything like this happening. I never envisioned the
slavery finishing.
With that
thing out of the way, the only obstacle in my way to peace comes in the form of
other fleshy distractions, like pornography. It’s not beyond the realms of
possibility that my misuse of this medium might, maybe, grant the DK a
reincarnation, as she used to always enter my mind that way. I thought I’d
broken my temperament of interracial homosexuality, and my temperament of
seeing women as nothing more than f**k dolls, but the lustful images from all
those years of voyeurism still joggle around in my mind on a daily basis at the
moment. Now the witch is dead, I long to keep her dead. Seeing porno as a bit
of harmless fun is a blatant lie which I have a hard time accepting though. I’ll
have to remain extra vigilant.
