Lord of the Files
Sam Vaknin l
Sam Vaknin describes a relationship with the malignant narcissist as a program that is installed in the victim as an internal structure that governs their lives, emotions, reactions, behaviors -- basically a false system replaces the one they had at birth, which connects them to the narcissist.
This resonated with me in trying to remember what happened to me at age 12 when I was put on a plane and sent to London to meet my designated sweetie, future husband, a relationship that was installed in me at McGill in a Masonic ritual (Isis/Osiris or Isis/Horus).
I am not saying MJ is a narcissistic structure although he likely was encouraged in that direction and played the role to its absolute summit. In another lifetime when we were connected he was a Pharoah. What else is a rock star if not a Babylonian god or Egyptian god/king? Rock and roll is the musical wrecking crew that is now dismantling this ancient system. And what causes fans to worship such entities if not centuries of internal programming?
Narcissism is idolatry, fans are worshippers who have had this programming installed in them from childhood-- and as a child i was programmed by British psychiatrists to marry a future rock star who would replace monarchy as the focus for a new subservient population.
My Fair Lady programming was used on my mother to get her to imagine my future life in a mythical High Society that ruled the waves.
But landing at Edith Grove like a Rag Doll was a shock awakening and turning point for my 12 year old self.
I could have survived and come home remembering my wonderful weekend away in London and looking forward to my next encounter with the majestic MJ.
But instead I crashed and burned. Failure and rejection triggered a transformation.
I lost everything but I won myself back.
I was no longer "in love" -- what they had designed wasnt true love but enslavement. Instead I discovered my heart of stone. My inner core that could not be changed or programmed. I went home.
The following year I rebuilt my inner structures around models of Joan of Arc and Catherine the Great. At school I borrowed but neglected to read the novel Trilby -- my soul refused to be rehypnotized.
And when Mick showed up at our house "with ice in his smile" I turned him down flat. And fainte. In his version:
"As he knocks you down cold
As you lose all control
To that figure of youth
... And I'm learning the truth."
He learned that my mother was not an heiress, we were not nobility, and this marriage was made for entrapment, to spread mental illness to another generation of mind controlled slaves.
After he left for good, my mother was angry: "You'd attract more flies with honey than you do with vinegar" -
I said "Mom -- who needs flies?"
Or their Lord, the malignant narcissist, for that matter.
l I suspect some of this is in my files at McGill including notes about MJ. The person who went through my files in 1977 was the same Ken Hertz who conspired to take me to New York to meet Mick on my 26th birthday that year, a ritual occasion coinciding with a solar eclipse. That meeting was another disaster and another step towards collapsing the demonic program.
Keep on rocking in the free world, Mick. We still love you.
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