The Devil is alive and well!!

 As movies and drama series often ask you to believe that their stories are fictitious, and that the characters are those of the imagination of the writer, then this is too. But a word of warning, if one of these occurrences appears to be something you have witnessed or are experiencing, please seek help for either yourself, or the person, you see in the story line. 

In a time when through death most people are unified in their grief, we watch as family and friends alike are divided without support, without compassion, without resolve and indeed without closure.

Instead these mourners try to fathom the depths of evil of this little old lady in the beret.  They stand breathless, hopeless, and in total despair as to how this shriveled up old person could have woven her incantations on them and her victims.  
 

Ten years of love and friendship eroded and white anted. Ten years of dividing and conquering relationships that were built of rock, respect, and generosity of the heart Ten years of breaking someone so as to control their very being. Ten years of building her cult - handpicked disciples of evil.  
 

The outside appearance of this three time married, doting mother was nothing but a veneer to hide her heart of thorns and broken glass. That veneer was as impenetrable as titanium and as cutting as a diamond blade. Those that attempted to love in a human fashion were soon beaten to submission to adhere to the rules of the cult and its leader.  
 

The rules of this cult, which by all purposes was to appear as a normal family with the highest standards of love and integrity, was merely a sham for worship, praise, adoration, and thankfulness to be in the angel of deaths presence. For the privilege of being part of this club, members needed to totally believe every word she uttered in her address to her people.  One must never doubt the supreme leader for fear of retaliation and humiliation. 

One must worship her as if she is the very essence of the meaning of love. Her soul and her heart is to be the temple of which her followers must strive to enter its doors. And believe it, she will not allow entrance unless she is the very shrine on which you worship. 

Let it also be known, that her children do not immediately inherit divine entrance to her tabernacle of evil. They too must bow to their dominatrix of power and corruption. To attempt leaving her controlling manipulative arms is to be exiled to a million humiliations and to publicly be stoned at the foot of her temple. No friends, no family, no joyful baggage, unless by proclamation from the divine ruler, must enter her temple walls.
 

On marrying the high priestess of pain and evil, her new consort will be hypnotized to believe that to live side by side her will be a life of joy and happiness. However as the ink dries on the wedding parchment, he is lulled into biting that apple as was given by that little old lady to Snow White. The people of his previous kingdom are shut out slowly but surely. The family and friends of his kingdom are exiled and his armies are depleted, discredited and forced to retreat as her spell takes over his very mind and soul.  He becomes powerless and his mind so brow beaten, he must obey or face her wrath. He succumbs to her spell, having no troops, no support, and no arsenal left in his reserves. 
 

As time goes by this priestess desires the need for a new lamb to be slaughtered at her alter. She needs to narcotize and rid herself of this old sheep that has become tiring and too time consuming and indeed no spring lamb. 
 

Meanwhile, the consort’s battle weary family, friends and expatriates attempt to break down the walls of the temple to free their narcotized hero from the slaughter. But, by this stage he is too weak, too anaesthetized to accept their help.  He has nothing left but to succumb to the encyclical as written by the devil herself.  
 

As his days are numbered, and he has outlived his usefulness as consort, signed his kingdom over, and tightened her borders from his family, friends, and fellow comrades, he calls on his sudden death to free him from this mortal life. There is nothing left for him. She has depleted his capacity as a man.  She has meticulously over ten short years gained total control  of his very being as do cult leaders. She has become his attorney of well-being, his attorney of time and indeed his attorney of execution. 
 

As the consort finally closed his eyes in peace, and lay at the cold entrance into the afterlife, not once did the evil priestess call on those that cared and loved him in his mortal life.  After all one must realize their place. Only she who must be worshipped, and glorified, must bask in his death. Only she who has controlled his very existence, and calculated his demise, is worthy of grief.  Those left behind must realize that the crocodile tears are a divine right and are cultivated so as not to wash the blood from her shrine. She does, however, live from the blood that she has sucked life from.  
 

As his celebration of life was celebrated, his weary followers were deleted from his life story.  His family and friends were deleted from his history.  Instead, his hypnotic state was glorified as per the hand of the devil, to only recognize her presence in his life and, a few anecdotes from those that are of her faith.  
 

As the days have turned to weeks, his cabinet of followers and family has had memorials of their own. They have discovered that this Priestess of evil has raped and pillaged many kingdoms before.  She has built walls around each, and every, kingdom that she has conquered.  She has taken many hostages, and until now, had tied their tongues so as not to showcase her blood bathed Temple of Evil.  
 

In the next few weeks we will discuss how this Evil Woman has worked in a pattern. Her evil is calculated to the tee. Just as a spider lures its prey to its web, just as a cat plays and toys with its prey before finally pouncing, just as an assassin stalks his victim before finally pulling the trigger, just as sure as night turns to day, the die is cast and there is no turning back.

Her depth of evil is fathomless and that those who have experienced her wrath must cling to what is keeping them safe thus far.  

symbolism.wikia.com

Everyone is a victim of this priestess! Some simply do not yet know it!!!!!!!!!

Shaping a Future! #nurture #frailty #hope #resilience

When we are children we believe that adults are all-knowing, we think they are infallible. We trust them implicitly not knowing they too are simply human beings. It is this trust that makes us vulnerable to their weaknesses, whether their moulding of our minds is intentional or not. Being a parent is not an easy task but it is one of the most important and probably the one role in life for which we are least qualified. This is especially true today where families of one or two is the norm and children grow up isolated from extended families. In the old days just about every child carried a toddler on their hip as they played in the street and so their parenting and nurturing lessons began very early in life.

That is not to say the most nurturing of parents do not have their foibles and weaknesses. We all know fathers who work long hours and spend more time with their work colleagues than their families. There parents who have been to war and find solace in a bottle. Others trapped in very unhappy unions which have devastating consequences for all involved. It is the circumstances of our parents that make us the adult we become. Fear of stepping into the world of business as a result of a childhood of worrying if the bank would fore close on your parents financial interests, thus making you homeless. Having a house full of unfolded washing making you anal about each item of clothing having its place! Seeing your Mother parked in a corner at the rare social gathering you attended, while your father was the life and soul of the party! These may seem trivial now, but in the eyes of a child they become etched into your psyche making you the adult you are today.

Others have much bigger fish to fry! Their childhoods are one of abuse, sometimes in all forms - verbal, emotional, physical and sexual. Many (sadly not all) rise above this to become reasonably well adjusted adults. Though the scars are still there. Many times they are buried deep within, but they are definitely responsible for the adult we become. What gives these parents the right to inflict such misery on the little person in their lives. These parents actually do not have any rights. They have responsibilities in which, they are sadly lacking. But, they lost their rights as parents the minute the abuse began. The fact that these children battle through often in silence is testimony to the resilience of the human spirit. They grow into adults in spite of their parents. Some rise above their circumstances to live good lives, some are irreversibly broken, some take their own lives and others become abusers themselves.

As parents, their is no excuse for the bad treatment of our children. They did not ask to be conceived. They did not ask to be carried in the womb for nine months to be spat out into a life of hell. This life of hell has no class barriers. It is universal across all ares of society - just the rich have more means and resources at their disposal to make sure the claims of abuse never see the light of day.

The innocence of the child is such a thing of beauty that it deserves only to be nourished, to be encouraged, to be explored, to make them into the very best human being that they possibly can be. They need to be given, not only their wings, but the license to fly! They deserve to lead their life, their way. They are not creatures made in our image so we can live our own hopes and dreams through them. Why punish them because they choose a different path?

As adults we are made train for most other tasks we undertake. We are made get a license to drive a car, a qualification for our profession, permits to build houses and the list goes on. But one night of unbridled passion, one time of fumbled sex, one act of rape and a life can be conceived. A life that we as adults will shape without one ounce of experience. Considering that this is the case a lot of adults manage to become reasonable parents, some manage to be great parents and others fail miserably. Governments try their best to protect children, but the system still fails the vulnerable in many cases. A lot has been gained, but their are still many lessons to be learned.

Most importantly, we as family, as community and as a people need to recognize the need for love and nurture does not end with childhood. It is ongoing and lifelong. If we care for, nurture, and show true compassion to all men, especially the vulnerable amongst us, then we will see them heal. We will allow them to fly in the manner they were destined, when they took their first gasp as they were bundled into the world.

Look around you. Do not judge anyone until you have walked in their shoes. Take time to get to truly know your friends. Do not brush aside their vulnerabilities, care for them, nurture them! Believe me - it is one hundred percent worth it. It is definitely a 'pay it forward' situation. Everybody wins!

Cheers

Bitches Coz! 

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

The Way We Were! #family #reunions #reminicing #memories

Over the last couple of weeks with a dear uncle of mine passing away, and the reunion of my best friend, a lot of time has been spent thinking of the past.  The good, the bad, the ugly and the exquisite. With his passing a lot of memories have been foremost in our minds, remembered and shared.  Mostly the memories are of those that have gone before him.  People, that in your mind, he will love to catch up with, if there is a next life.  People that were part of his life, my life.  People who would have nurtured, given advice, taught and encouraged him to be the great man he was.   
These memories can be both bitter and sweet.  People like him, and others, have brought joy and meaning to our lives. They have encouraged us to conquer our fears. They have guided us when at times we thought there was little hope. They have shown by action, rather than words, their strengths and their weaknesses. These memories consciously or subconsciously have led us to be the people that we are today.  In our silence, away from the great tributes of joy that this man and many others have brought  us, we meditate, reflect, and recount why people such as he, have formed our lives. Sadly we also remember some of those people that have given us grief, not encouraged us. The ones that, without the help of those who are great, may have caused us to fall by the wayside and suffer badly.   
It just so happened that my best friend came at this time.  To her I recount those great stories! But, along with those, there are some very hurtful ones and we have been able to spring clean. Being a true friend you are free to share those scattered pictures of your past.  You are able to showcase them in their original form, and display for everyone to view your mantle of many happy occasions.

There are however, some pictures that are only to be reflected upon. Some pictures to be viewed, and contemplate, how they are only the negatives of our album.  These pictures can be seen through lenses that blur our vision of our past.  These pictures are exposed for their poor quality and having  revisited these snaps of our past, you can dust them off,  re box, seal and dispose of finally.  These unhappy snaps of our life should be aired, observed and visited, but we must call on the happy shots that have brought us strength.  Allow these beautiful memories to over ride the evil negatives that have been lurking in that box of nostalgia.

We must look at the positives that these people have given us through our lives.  Let them take precedence and shelve the negative influences.  Until we dispose of the negatives properly they will give our mantle a smoke haze rather than the warmth these embers of hope and joy have given us.  

It is great to speak these thoughts and feelings that you have.  It is also great to expose these negatives  so they can never be displayed on a mantle of horror.  We must deal with and then dispose of, so that their influences can never discolour the beauty that we have found within.  Until we deal with these memories, we can never truly see the beauty, and we can never forget those who were/are not so good.

Air these memories, dispose of the negatives and remember the way we were with a view to a great future. Only then will our newly dusted pictures be truly exquisite and shed real warmth and a glow for those around us.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

The Way We Were! Barbra Streisand