Mal actually rather likes these things because they let us know Them Inside It bes Real and not just made up in its mind like mean stupid humans accuse. But it gets its modalities confused a lot. It has spent so much time in the modality of trying to be heard it does not know how to shift out when it finds itself being heard. It spend so much time in the modality of fighting off them poisons and poisoners it don't know how to switch that off when someone offers "food" or "medicine" (so to speak). It spend so much time reacting to being disbelieved and invalidated and treated like garbage and striving to ordain its interactions to avoid that, that it goes into pure mindless terror when anyone seems kind, really kind, like they might keep being kind even if they see its worst depravities and vileness emerge. It has been sick so long it has forgotten what "wellness" looks like if any such thing ever existed and when it comes across things it remembers as artifacts from another time it cannot recapture how it thought or felt. It has been programmed to fight, to war, against anything "good", this war, this programming, riding parasitic on its own innate fight against poison and toxic memes and bully/abuser lies, etc. till it can no more find distinction between them. Friends may as well be foes, it can define neither, everything hurts, everything feels like razor wire barbed with spikes dipped in neurotoxins.

After so many years of FEARING this place -- where no distinction remains, no "discernment" and no difference between light and darkness, up and down, good and evil, pleasure and pain -- and fighting fruitlessly to avoid falling this far, now it bes swallowed up by it and finds it so easy just to sink down further. A bottomless pit, by definition, you cannot hit the bottom in, and if you don't hit bottom you won't ever begin the climb out, either. It cannot hit bottom, but it has sunk enough to require bona fide rescue at this point, and nobody's coming. This does not surprise it any, but it feels frustrated that it has completely lost control and that includes control over the automatic stereotyped "cry for help" crap as well. It knows logically nobody will come. It knows logically it cannot be helped anymore, that it will die here. It knows logically that the world reflects this now, nobody believes its feelings contain any drop of sincerity in them, everyone believes it bes only some malicious scheme to lure them in to where it may feed and predate upon them -- thus do they confuse and conflate the agenda of the inhabitants with that of the host vessel -- and it has no desire to take the blood (so to speak, bleed dry of faith, hope, and love) any still capable of feeling and caring who might be caught in Their "web of deceit and simulation" as They master doing Malady herself, a perfect imitation of her in pain, screaming and crying and flailing like someone drowning, overlaying the actual person drowning/sinking/whatever ... all driven by Them ... it cannot stop this. It would like to stop this, that alone would relieve some of the misery, if not for itself at least for others, yet it has no control.

Only one solution remains and that would be the permanent one. Only guess what: They won't LET it do that. They won't LET it, and THEY control. And even if They did let it, it cannot care enough to be bothered to go to the trouble. So it bes stuck with itself and its tactile hallucinations and its bondage and its miseray and everyone say it chose this so tough crap. Only it never asked for any of this. They chooses it when it bes small. It did not want Them. It wanted the One it can never have, the One that despises Us and threw us down through the skies to this crude plane of matter.

Oh well so much for Sunday morning (afternoon -- oops, no, evening) self pity session LOL. boo hoo wah wah life sucks yeah shut up you whining sack of sh/t, all your fault and nobody cares.