Music creation does not feel like its mine; it feels owned by someone else or owned by trauma. I feel dictated to. I feel like music is not my own; is owned; what do I do. When I write this; I see the fake property I came from when young; this was a stop over home for a few moments before the psychopaths left; thats all it was. Remember; psychopaths do not tell you anything; you do not know whats coming next because they do not tell you anything; this is important because they act like everything is OK in their world; and it is; regardless of what happens to you according to them.
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If the psychopaths are setting me up to die; they will look calm and collected. They will not give off a signal that something is wrong. They never do; nothing; you have no idea anything is wrong.
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I watched TV and thought life would be like a family on TV or a family that lived down the street; so much so; I went down the street to hang out with my friend at his house all day; However, in reality; he ws not my friend; he was a fake; just like the fake neighborhood and fake family and fake house. All of my childhood was a fake; all of it; I was groomed into believing everything was safe and fine; in reality; I was being held over sharks nest on a plank, slowly being walked to my death; and their eyes; the eyes of the psychopaths were watching ever step; grooming every step; all of those steps that would eventually land me in the water; and at the point; the ship would leave and never return. And in the future; if I had to find that ship that abandon me to the sharks and I had to board the ship and live their again; no one claimed to know me; I would be no better then a ships mate like the rest of the workers. I would be treated like a second class citizen, And all this I had to find out through experience.
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A complete mistake; because I had no friends in that neighborhood; and the neighborhood was not mine and the neighborhood was not my friend. It was a stark lonely place I was never invited into; those people were not my friends; but I had to try to get out of their; get out of that house I was living in and try for something else. I had to try; I had nothing; it was empty all the time; their was nothing their. I had no idea just how much was not their.
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Looking back; my mother was resistant to cook or feed me or anything else; she was resistant; she was doing it to keep her cloak on; disguise. So; I had no choice but to go with it; I call her my “ mother” because of the memories of specifics; washing clothing, or being fed. But she was resistant; I could feel it all the time. all the time. When I was fed; she was pleasing my fathers wishes; not because she was meek; she was putting on an act. IT was all an act.
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I was never told by either one it was all an act on anything; Looking back; I wasn’t their; thats why; I was a ghost; I had my own life; I did what I wanted. That would soon stop; And other problems of bulling would start; and that would causes problems; if someone took advantage of me; pushed me around or stole from me; I had no one to help me; I would get angry; and was with out; and they got away with it; the thieves.
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I still deal with bulling today; I dealt with it recently; it sucks; I get caught off guard.
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Im truly wanting to have my own car so I can go places; but I also want a friend to go places with; My Asian Soulmate. This will take time; its not about her; its about my healing. And coming back to speed. But it is about her.
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Back to music;
The music is not present; its not my own; Im not present and dont feel safe; and dont know what to do about it; its been this way all my life; Ive asked the universe for help; but no help comes; I dont understand; if the universe is not going to help me; I will continue to report to you fine people and everywhere I go that the universe will not help me.