Advantage Me

I remember when I was in a graceful position over my enemies in the past and I told myself that I must not relinquish it. That was until I fell into the procrastinating trap of narcotics and self-abuse. They pounced on me when I was drenched in shame and guilt and I lost any hard-fought-for advantage.

Now I am back in the driving seat, and determined not to make the same mistake.

I address you today bathing in authority over the toxic people who have spent their whole lives trying to spoil a single day of mine. Much of the history of this blog may have been penned in fear, and I regret that. I gave them far too much respect. I thought I was dealing with blood-letting demons who were right up there with God. I realize now that I am dealing with a bunch of sad and bored criminal fanatics who have never dealt with a free thinking empath like me before.

I refuse to give them much airtime here, as I know that the trick is to look forward and leave them buried in the dust, obsessed about how my finger movements are being read by a satellite; but, God help me, half of me thinks about sharing a few words about them and getting it off my chest.

I don’t want to lower myself to a string of insults however. I’m above that. They know exactly what they are. But apart from insults, there’s not much more to say about them.

I’m just happy for me. I’m emerging from their torment with my life intact. It was touch and go at one point. I nearly believed them when they claimed they were all-powerful, because they had access to my inner thoughts. The veneer has worn thin on that one. No powerful being would be racked with overwhelming obsession about another.

I’m the powerful one. Sorry about that little boast there. When surviving their petty games and silly pestering, it’s hard not to develop a big head.

Writing a title like Advantage Me is perhaps setting myself up for a fall, but my recent research into Narcissistic Mortification has propelled my faith and hope into the stratosphere. Maybe I can stop my negative behaviors and start to live my best life for once. Who’s to say not?

They will never change. They’re unable to. All they care about is what my fingers are doing, for some mad reason, and what I’m looking at. I have never experienced any form of infatuation like it, and this is coming from someone who couldn’t put porn down for 25 years. The effect of naked ladies bonking on the silver screen is impressionable, but at least I turned it off from time to time and went to work.

Nothing distracts my harassers from me, and I mean nothing. It comes across as prophetic worship. Mental retardation doesn’t begin to cover it.

I think I’ll be fine from here. Forget all the warnings about mind control, menticide, gang-stalking, and Third World Wars. I’m dealing with fickle children.

Somebody wake the Devil up, and give me a fair challenge.

Here’s to a life of peace and joy, absent from fear.