Houses and Self Sabotage of the Family

Houses can be used to destroy the lives of the people living in them, with each other.  People become obsessed with using stuff to get what they want.  Stuff is seen by most as innocent, and so it becomes a tool to persuade others to do what you want.  It is seduction of the innocent, in a dream marked off by death and destruction of the fabric of reality, including the way to go to home, in a way more suitable to each person’s dreams and aspirations in a world of chaos and disorder.

The home is a place where the advantage goes to the impaired and the sick. Nothing really convinces a mother to let up like a flu. I think there are so many facets of awareness that are included in the price of living in a house, that someone’s habits and preferences, choices, and reality are made available to the family for piecing apart and deliberations about performance, endurance, the reality of few, dreams, goals, aspirations, and anything that defines the characters within.

Then thing that inspired my family to abuse each other was the love lives of each other.  Within the household, there were many ways to eavesdrop on each other.  We all tried to hide our flaws, but there is no way to hide it from those who have the power to decide what to do about their knowledge of each other’s flaws.  On the other hand, we were all expected to hide our self-knowledge and insight about love.  This led to self-deceit and mutual annihilation of selfhood and loving relationships with those around us in the world surrounding our chaotic home life.

I think the biggest problem with the life of servitude to the family obligations was the fact that religion was not practiced as a way of solving problems, it was used as a tool, instead.  I think religion is the way to make home life work well, if it is properly utilized in prayer and meditation involving each other’s dream life, and loves in life, and each other as a support system that has a spiritual goal beyond the material world.

I’m not a sorcerer or a witch, as I was labeled and conceived to be, My family wanted to see me as a pagan sorcerer instead of an honest worker. But I think they had to eventually concede that I am a person with a disability and a mental acuity that escaped them.  I’m just a really good person, from a home that troubled me in ways too numerous to repeal and confront while living there.