There are different kinds of love.
Blind love: the love of an infant for their parent.
New love: the love of a boy for a girl
Euphoric Love: A spontaneous feeling of oneness, bliss or peace
Grateful love: Relief of intense grief or anguish
Erotic Love [eros]: the love or or with the flesh and sexual anatomy; seduction
Charitable Love: the love of service to others
Survivor Love: the bonds forged by survival in dire circumstances
Fraternal Love: the bonds of sport or group identity by common goal, language, nation or creed, birth or indoctrination
Physical Love: pleasure, food, sex, drink, drugs, etc.
Elegiac Love: love of the dearly departed: Ancestral love
Stockholm Love: the love of one's captor or abuser; government; or family
Delusional or Repressive Love: Love formed by the neurological repression of pain [even and especially in utero and perinatal], often supplemented with delusional or religious belief; volatile; can be associated with all of the other kinds of love, making any one of them a veritable Trojan horse for unpredictable and unprovoked aggression or, alternately, lapses in any or all of reason, comprehension and empathy under the unquestionable banner or flag of group loyalty or under threat of spiritual or physical torture future or concurrent
Our society has about one hundred names for Aspartame, a common carcinogenic sweetener made from the fecal matter of bacteria; people love it.
Myself, I have been hospitalized over twenty-five times for the "love" of my family, none of whom have ever expressed the least concern other than to seek to impugn my intelligence, sanity, development or character upon the least possible suggestion that I might object to this or expect any flesh and blood relative to ever express the least interest in the scale and extent of my injuries as though I never had or have long been relieved, by their estimation, of the ability or right to give voice to myself.
What kind of love is that?
That would be good to know. Because the next time I am hospitalized for excruciating pain from all the "love" of my family, it might not be so confusing, seeing as you all have such a superior sense of that concept and of how all my car accident grade injuries - which continue to this day decades later - are all just "Schizophrenia, a hard childhood, depression, scoliosis, PTSD, drug addiction, demonic possession, needing to be heard," and any number of insults to human intelligence aka love for which I was and am so unworthy as to give the impression of creating catastrophic disintegration of my body roundly dismissed as merely delusional - at best - by a loving family with medical degrees in Narcissistic Psychopathy, Cult Psychology and Child Sacrifice of Biblical Proportions.
I look forward to your most healthy and entirely normal "response."
PS Jesus can go fuck Himself.
PPS If you don't want to be a Man, don't contact me.
Surely someone of your intelligence can understand that.
Anything else is just Harassment of a Victim of Violent Crime by YOU.
And I will not abide it.
Dad, just go die and leave us all alone.
Say hi to Lillian for me; she is probably not a psychopath anymore.
Death becomes her, as it will you all, hopefully soon.
My family, my Ancestors are strong and honest people.
You fucks I haven't felt safe around a day of my life.
You Xian assholes.
Love is not for COERCION.
See definition here
But thanks for the laugh. I laugh heartily at your folly and I mourn your spirits being broken so early in life; and yet you could not break mine with your "love"
I wonder why not?
Because I am the most EVIL motherfucker you will ever meet, and you better not. Because I carry a knife around just for you guys, to do what the Justice system never did.
Sleep well. And be very afraid of me. The next time you try to harass me or any vulnerable man, woman or child of mine in person will be a very different story. Blood will be shed. And it will not be mine. You should have killed me when you had the chance. I will not be at your funerals. I will connect with your spirits after you have been treated by Death.
I think of little else, you Xian pedophiles.
There is a high court in nature. And you have been convicted.
Your sentence is waiting for you one day.
When will it be?
Bring it.
I am ALIVE and WELL.
What are you?
Did those things really happen?
Did I do them to you or did you do them to me?
Why was I treated that way?
For objecting, as I am now, to totally unacceptable violence and threats of violence?
And you want me to STOP? Why don't you START? Then your brain could begin to GROW.
That is confusing to me.
What have I lost or gained by writing this letter?
An opportunity to tell Rapists to fuck off?
Ah... I get more of a thrill yelling at the Television.
I depend on your good opinion or character or honour or honesty or love like I depend on a dog to do my taxes or to wipe its own ass, as do I, with the pages of your fucking Holy Bible.
In Honour and Glory to Satan,
Rayn Gryphon [Landon Sealey]
Check out any of my fifty books on THIS, all written in the last eight years.
Strange what you can do when you are a Delusional Paranoid Schizophrenic with a functioning prefrontal, parietal lobe and cortex, isn't it?
Now run along, kiddies, the True Peoples have shit to do.
Suffice it to say that your Sickness has been used for Educational Purposes.
My children thank you heartily for doing your best, though I dare say your best leaves a lot to be desired, as I have found to my considerable cost.
