Pathological Truther

 I hate when people tell me that they never lie. Everyone lies.  Everyone lies all day, every day, for things they don't need to lie about. For the better part of 25 years or so, I've worked hard on telling the truth.  It's hard.  It takes effort and thought and diligence.  Everyone in this society lies so much that it's accepted.  

TV has people convinced that lying is difficult and you can always tell if someone is lying by looking at them because liars always stress out and you get nervous and start sweating.  "Hey, murderer pretending to be innocent, let us strap you up to this machine to see if you're lying."  

 

The truth is, people lie so easily it can't be detected.  

I lied last week.  I was talking to someone and I said, "And the reason I know that is . . ." In the short time it took for me to say the words, "And the reason I know that is," I had already calculated in my mind the pros and cons of telling the truth, weighed both options, I reasoned that the outcome would be less problematic if I lied, and I came up with a lie that sounded feasible and didn't miss a beat between the word is and the word because.  

I wasn't planning to lie. By that, I mean, I hadn't started out the conversation with the intention of lying.  I didn't even start out the sentence intending to lie. It wasn't like I had been anticipating the conversation for days and had rehearsed the lie in my mind.  Spur of the moment, at the speed of light, I made up a lie.

I performed at least 6 major thought processes in LESS than a fraction of a second.  

I later confessed and apologized for my lie.  It wasn't about anything big or major or personal.  I lied about HOW I knew that the race war had started already and the media just isn't reporting it.  I told him that I had a submissive white man who was a doctor who gave me the real deal.  LOL, that's dumb a dumb lie now that I think about it.  Why would a white doctor tell me about the efforts of white people to kill people of color?  I didn't want to say, "I'm the recipient of supranatural insights into the Universe." 

I came clean about the lie and the reason I lied.  

I had a few years out of the last 25 where I lied like average people.  I had found my old boss on Facebook.  I wanted to call her and tell her that I loved her.  I loved her in a way that was pure Divine love.  She was racist, horrible, and evil to me when I worked for her.  But she was part of the puzzle that, when put together, make Scottie the woman that she is today.  

I was stressed out and triggered by the concept of calling her and telling her that I wasn't rich and successful.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't call her and tell her that I was a broke struggling artist who writes erotic stories about Black people. 

That was just too much for me at the time. I felt like a loser.  I wasn't married.  I didn't have kids.  She met me when I was 21.  At close to 50, I wanted her to see me as a home-owning, conforming to societal rules but still creative, middle-class person.  I was ashamed of not being rich.  I was ashamed of being broke and unsuccessful.  I didn't even want to tell her that I had gone to grad school because I didn't want her to have more of a reason to judge me and think I'm a failure in life.  

For at least a full day before I called her, I stressed out over lying.  I figured out my lie and rehearsed it.  I was going to tell her was that I worked with my uncle and we had formed a business where he was a real estate agent and I designed and staged the houses. I had proposed that exact option to my uncle.  I have spent YEARS watching nothing but home improvement shows morning till night.  I used to pretend I had my own HGTV show and I may even had thought of a name of my pretend show. It was the best lie I could tell.  

I called my girlfriend to help me calm my nerves and help me rehearse.  I can almost feel the sensation now.  

I called my old boss.  I told my rehearsed lie, It went off smoothly.  I told her I loved her.  She did not respond or acknowledge me.  She asked me if I was going to come to NY to visit any time soon and that she wanted to see me before she died.  I lied and said maybe.  

The freaky part is, that lie, after that phone call, the floodgates opened, I started, "normal lying."  Normal lying is what what I refer to as the endless string of lies circumstances that recognize that everyone lies because they don't think of it as a lie. Lies do not have to be elaborate like the one I told, lies are a result of living in a society that makes us afraid of being judged.  Lies are the way your brain processes your fear of being judged.  

This society has brainwashed us to lie about everything because we live in constant fear of judgment from other people.  That fear causes people to lie about things that they absolutely don't have to lie about.  For about three years after that incident, I "normal" lied.  Every conversation I had consisted of me not paying attention to what other people said but rather I was anticipating how they were going to  judge me and what I could say to make myself look better to them.  I lied about the stupidest shit possible.  I wasn't abnormal, nothing was wrong with me.  Everyone lies.  

My grandkids made me stop lying again.  I'm on year three of trying to speak truth to power.  I have noticed that since 2021, I'm even more diligent about being honest and apologizing when I'm wrong.  

I remember when I was married a million and two years ago, I told my husband, the one thing I hate most is liars.  "If I can't trust you, we have no relationship."  I told him that if he ever felt unhappy in our marriage, tell me BEFORE he cheated so that we could work on being better or I could walk away with dignity. He didn't.  He cheated and he lied about it. He lied about everything. I thought, at the time, there was something wrong with him. I thought he had some sort of mental defect, like something had happened to him in his life to make him lie about having pizza for lunch when he had Wendy's. It feels like every fight that we had was because he lied.   He lied about everything all the time. 

I thought my ex-husband lied more than normal people.

Turns out, it's not that he lied more than normal people, turns out that I lie less than normal people.  

It's only just in the last few minutes that I just now realize he was normal.  He was normal and lying is normal.  People lie about everything because they fear being judged.  I judged him as some sort of mental illness that made him lie all the time.  My ah-ha moment!  I was viewing him through a lens of being all good or all bad.  

The last big, stressful rehearsed lie that I told, I told to my mother.  Turns out she saw me in the Tuesday other dimensional meeting and she knew I was lying the entire time.  

I cheated on my ex-husband.  It was . . . maybe two or three days  before our marriage ended in a blaze of adultery and pain.  The guy was a UPS driver.  It's possible he may have worked at the same hub as my husband. His name was  Scott and he had a really small dick and he fucked me in the ass in the living room of our condo.  Anyway, I never got a chance to tell my husband that I had cheated because the evidence of his years long affair came to light and my life fell apart.  

We communicated, my ex husband and I, with one another a few years ago.  I asked him why he had done some of the more hurtful things he'd done to me and his answer was, "I don't remember."  He felt guilty.  He thought I still hated him.  I haven't hated him in seems like decades.  

I weighed the option of telling him about my infidelity but there was no point after 30 years.  I would have no problem confessing and apologizing to him if we ever meet face to face again. He doesn't need my apology, I don't feel plagued with guilt.  I would simply like to restore the scales of truth to balance.  I told him that I had forgiven him years and years ago.   I did feel quite guilty for a long time because I cheated on him.  It was my only time cheating. I never cheated on my boyfriend before that. Ever since that time, I've never cheated and I've always lived my my own edicts. (Hmmm, will future generations know what the word integrity means?)

All four of the relationships I've had since my marriage ended have cheated on me.  Ehhh, Emmanuel wasn't really a relationship.  I suspect he cheated on his girlfriends to be with me but I'm not even sure about that. 

White women!  Your husbands are are low key disgusting.  I have dominated white men for 21 years.  I have no idea what percentage are married because white men lie.  But the ones who admit they are married, the ones who tell me that their wives have NO clue what sorts of things really turn them on, they are the ones who are the most deviant men on the planet.  They love to wallow in filth and depravity.  They lie, they lie, they lie, they expect me to believe their lies, they lie and lie and lie some more.  

My most memorable video call was with the married white dude who locked himself in the dog cage in chains and jerked off on the pile of dog turds that he had hidden the key in.  The depths of his depravity repulsed me.  He should not be allowed on the streets, he is a true danger to society. But he's more normal than the white man you see on TV, the one who never cheats and loves his wife.  He presents as a deacon in the church, a pillar of the community type dude and as a great dad and father.  He's not.  Trust me when I say, he absolutely is not.  He makes my flesh crawl.

That takes of lot.  I am not repulsed by men telling me that they are pedophiles, rapists, serial killers, or any other violent/criminal/sexual act. I have learned that our society is much darker than we understand and I acknowledge that far more people are driven by immoral, illegal, unethical, disgusting, disturbing sex than certainly the media tells us.  I've helped someone address their guilt over  his pedophile compulsion.  He is actually a sweet, wonderful man.  I really like him.  (Single).  

I don't see people as all good or all bad anymore.  I look for people who are self-aware.  Own your shit.  That's healthier than the people who deny their shit.  It's infinitely healthier than going out and degrading and castigating people who do things that don't even compare to what you do behind closed doors.  

I have a pleasant and civil relationship with a serial killer who is single and there are 4 or 5 married white men with whom I speak that make my flesh crawl.  To be honest, the single serial killer was far more honest and pleasant to talk to than the married white men who were probably serial killers as well and who just didn't tell me.  

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have masturbated to individuals whose behaviors, actions, and fantasies I find reprehensible but I'm aroused by their willingness to share with me their truth, to let me be their confidant. I'm not conflicted about it because I understand that far more people are dark than light. 

I am sexually aroused by the truth.  I find repulsive and repugnant white men who can confess and tell me their darkest thoughts and fantasies arousing because I'm aroused by white men's depravity.  That's my fetish:  White men's fuckedupness.

I've caught white men in lies and they SWEAR they are telling the truth, and eventually, the confess, sometimes after days of denial, and inevitably, in too many instances to count, after they've acknowledged that they had lied, after they confessed to lying and described to their misdeeds, in many instances they still go right back to asserting the same lie that they already confessed to.  They believe their own lies.  

The people who swear, "I'm not lying, I swear I'm not lying, What would I have to lie about?"  They're lying.  

I'm a pathological truther.  

And, to all those people who say, "I always tell the truth too," I'm going to gently suggest that unless you can show me physical proof: a blog post, a link to a podcast, an article you wrote, show me something that proves that you have spent time contemplating the truth and it's impact on our lives, you're lying.

Pawns versus Rooks

 Darwin wasn't right. Think about it. It's become increasingly more impossible for anyone to continue to believe that ancient humans were primitives who grunted and yelled at the sky when they made fire. It's the information age.  You can get locked down in quarantine and watch hours and hours of documentaries about wonders of the world that are not taught in any American school system, and see evidence of advanced civilizations that existed and left ginormous monuments as evidence. 

You can go down the rabbit hole that is YouTube, watching endless videos that disclose the truth about places, peoples, and histories that have been erased, and intentionally destroyed and the miraculous evidence they left that they had evidence of the heavens and the stars and the planets, the constellations, there is evidence, physical proof that they possessed spiritual knowledge far advanced than any person has today.  

There is far too much evidence that indigenous people of color around the world have constructed miraculous, archeological, astrological wonders with such precision and accuracy that it is IMPOSSIBLE to accept the premise that they were intellectually inferior to today's minds.  

I watched a documentary the other day about the Chaco Canyon.  Chaco Canyon is here, in the United States, somewhere, out west is the best location I can give you.  I can't even tell you when it was supposed to have been built.  I can tell you this.  It was built based on the stars.  This entire compound, that was miles and miles of buildings, was built around the rotation of the Earth around the Sun, alignment with the moon and it's cycles, with constellations.  The experts, the PhD's, people with the most knowledge on the ruins kept insisting that these were a primitive people, that they were hunter gatherers at best, and in many instances implying and stating outright that it was impossible for them to have built this compound with their limited and primitive knowledge.  

One expert, a gentleman insisted that it was impossible for these primitive people to have built this enormous compound because there was no evidence of waste anywhere.  He said that if this compound was supposed to be the major hub of commerce as was being suggested, it would have had too much waste, and that there was no evidence of any waste, so therefore, it couldn't have been occupied by people, it couldn't have been a major center of commerce.  His expertise was supposed to validate for the viewer that there just happens to be some rocks, okay, ruins of buildings, built in what is now a dessert, a long time ago, and so what that they happen to be in alignment with some hocus pocus stars or equinox stuff, that was just luck on their part and they were not smart or advanced at all.   

Now, my first and very lingering and nagging question since watching the video is, "What waste?"  This gentleman was insistent that there would have been mounds and mounds of waste as evidence of people living, working, and thriving there.  They didn't have plastic.  They didn't have grocery stores or packaging.  They didn't have diapers.  They didn't have egg cartons or paper towels or milk cartons or disposable contact lenses.  So what waste was Dr. whatever his name was, of whatever he was a doctor of, talking about?  

If I can figure out that people living in a non capitalist society who are smart enough to build a compound around the rotation of the earth are smart enough not to destroy the planet with waste, why couldn't a man who is an expert in the field of paleontology or whatever?  Any people with that advanced type of knowledge would be smart enough to respect the planet and recycle everything back to the earth, with love, as any intellectually advanced people would do.  

Intellectually inferior people, now they would create plastics, and packaging, and toxins, and pollutants, and things that won't break down in nature.   They would be so self-centered and misguided, that they would destroy the planet with waste.  

The Pyramids at Giza, the Mayan Pyramids, The Olmecs, the Incan engravings, dozens and dozens and god only knows how many more examples of advanced people, leaving evidence of their advanced technology and minds are there to be found.  Imagine evidence of those advanced societies that have never been found, or those that have been found and then destroyed? What more sinister reason to destroy the Amazon than to destroy the evidence of advanced civilizations that were not European in an effort to perpetuate the lie that all advanced thought came from European minds?  That's a win/win for whomever could pull that off.  They destroy the evidence of advanced civilizations created by people of color, while robbing and looting their treasures, they kill the planet by destroying the rainforest, and they profit from everything that they steal from the rainforest, because they believe they OWN the planet.  

All those atrocities are committed by the white power structure, the puppet masters, not white people. The white person going to their job and living their miserable little life isn't the person responsible for divvying up ancient relics in huge underground warehouses in order to keep the public from knowing that people of color were intellectually superior in the past.  

White people are pawns in this game of manipulation as much as Black people are.  They have been programmed to believe that no people of color made any contributions to society, that people of color are inferior. If white people, the white people who aren't pulling the strings, the white people who aren't benefitting from the global manipulation, if they stop believing that white people are the center of the Universe, the white power structure falls, the 1 percent of the 1% is defeated. 

It's the white power structure, the ones who rule the world who are pulling the strings to keep the belief that white people and Europe are the center of the intellectual Universe.  The racism they created, the concept of whiteness, that white people are superior to everyone else on the planet, that lie gave birth to racism.  The rich, white, power structure elites need white people to continue to believe that Europe is the center of all intellectual thought and that everyone else were savages.  The top 1% needs white people to believe, "Yeah, human beings evolved from cave men and look at all the advancements whites made and look how savage you Mexicans and Africans are, you didn't invent anything.  And what you did invent, it was primitive.  You made it with stone tools and you were savages."  

If white people ever found it in their hearts, if they ever decided to acknowledge that just maybe the world won't stop spinning if they admit that it is possible that other people, people of color, EVEN Black people, might have been manipulated by the powers that be, that the white power structure is pitting us against one another in their need for power.  If white people accept the concept that people of color that Black people are not inferior, that slavery, that inaccess to and lack of education created the PERCEPTION that Blacks are inferior.  If white people can accept and believe that concerted efforts by the controlling powers that be have manipulated us all, , that simple, if white people can say that we have ALL been manipulated, us versus them becomes we, white versus Black becomes the righteous against the evil, and we destroy the Matrix.  

Humans used to be all-knowing.  Humans used to be all-powerful.  There was a concerted effort by the evil power structure to create a reality where humans are born into a world where they are cut off from their connection to their divinity, their understanding that they are God in human form. 

We are not in the smartest time in history.  We are disconnected from our true power.  Doesn't it make more sense to believe that the ancient Egyptians made the pyramids with sound waves and electromagnetic psychic transportation powers (forgive my lack of sci-fi lingo) than to suggest ancient Egyptians made the pyramids with a reed of papyrus, a chisel, and pure muscle?  The hatred of Blackness, the hatred of Black people makes it impossible for some white people to accept that maybe there was a hidden agenda by someone to obscure the fact that we are all equals.  Maybe all human beings are equals and maybe some evil, greedy forces manipulated all of us to make us forget that we are all the same energy, from the same source.  

Does that mean I'm saying that Creationism is right?  No.  But, there is more truth to the bible than we know but it's been hidden by magick and allegory.  

Ultimately, the truth is far more complex than we understand.  We are all pawns in this game.  We are all victims of a grand scheme, much bigger, more sinister, pitting black against white, when it should be pawns against the rooks.  

White men are Pathetic!

It's been a while since I recorded an audio.  This one is outstanding.  Sit back, relax, and stroke away as you listen to my sweet, sensual voice tell you what a fucking loser you are.  

It's 22 minutes long.  

It's only $20.  

Cashapp $ScottieLowe

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Sample text:

White men have little flat asses, diseased looking skin, pathetic cocks, white men have lips only a snake would want to kiss and they have defective sperm, only reproducing deviants and monsters, or worse, average, boring, plain, typical losers.  White men habitually crave being used like toilets, beaten like slaves, whipped until their pale flesh is blue and read and green with bruises, welts bleeding, flesh ripped.  Pain is pleasure to white men.  White men desire being fucked savagely and brutally like little bitches, over and over, potent sperm dripping from their gaped ass cunts, their vocal cords sore from their faces being fucked like a real pussy.  

See My Humanity

 There are times, during meditation, when I get a revelation, some nugget of divine truth, and I grasp that truth on a cellular level, I understand the concept in my being.  After meditation, throughout the day in my daily interactions, I can remember the words of my revelations but I don't retain the understanding, the knowing, the sensation of it being an unshakeable truth that resides within me.  

Recently, I have been charged to remember throughout my day that everyone believes what they believe to be right and true in the world based on their own personal experience and worldview.  There is no amount of arguing, convincing, there is no civil debate, there is no sarcasm or quick-witted take down that is going to get a person to challenge the core beliefs that they hold dear and true about how life works, myself included.  Only empathy, compassion, and love will change a person's heart, only light can cast out dark.  Every single person believes that they way they see the world is the way the world is.  Every person believes that their opinions are facts, that anyone who disagrees with them is bad and wrong and anyone who agrees with their their beliefs is good and right. The challenge for me going forward is to see myself in every person who holds beliefs that don't share the same experience and worldview as me so they can't truly understand the pain I feel in navigating a world as a Black woman that, I perceive as being more hostile to me than to white people.  

I forget that when I'm arguing with white people about racism. I forget that they didn't make a conscious choice to believe the things they believe.  I seem to forget in the heat of the moment that the white people who hold the most offensive and racist beliefs weren't raised in a cave by animals, away from all human contact and media, only to emerge espousing hateful Republican/Fox News talking points from the ethers of the Universe; everything they believe is a direct result of their life experiences, just as mine is. No one says, "My opinion could be wrong and I should keep an open mind so that I can see the error of my ways in this discussion."  No, no, no.  Everyone says, "This bitch is wrong and I'm right and she's so dumb she can't see how wrong she is."  I know, because that's exactly what I say about them when I'm angrily explaining why they are, in fact, very racist despite their insistence that they aren't.  

I forget that white people and I have one thing in common and that is that we have all come through the world with parents and family and society and religion, all telling us who we are and what is truth, all outside forces with  agendas, shaping our opinions of of what's right and wrong.   No matter how many times I think I have embraced the concept and that I understand on a deep, intrinsic level that white people see the world exactly as they have experienced it, not the way I see it, I always seem to forget. 

I go on the attack when I deal with overtly racist white people because I believe they are intentionally trying to participate in my oppression rather than seeing themselves as victims of the same system that shaped my identity, just in reverse.  I call their ideas stupid.  I insult the very beliefs they have have known as truth their entire lives.  I expect some sort of "rational and enlightened" acknowledgement that they don't know anything about racism and that 1. They need to acknowledge that they are racist, and that their beliefs are wrong, and 2. They need to graciously and humbly let me educate them on how everything that they have ever thought and believed was wrong.  The issue isn't that white people aren't racist or that their perceptions don't need to be evolved.  The problem is in how to communicate with people to get them to understand that what they have been taught, what they believe infringes on the self-determination of people of color.  And I need to understand and remember that they believe equally that I'm wrong and need my beliefs changed to align with theirs.  Finding the balance, finding the compromise is the key.  

In order for me to live my best life, for me to fully manifest the life I deserve, it is my very strong belief that racism must be addressed and healed.  The very strongly held beliefs of white people that dictate that I'm inherently inferior, the behaviors and practices that they engage in, the political and financial decisions they make are based on those racist beliefs, are detrimental to my well-being so their thinking must evolve to allow for my humanity.  I know of know other way than to continue to speak my truth with the hopes that someone will read and understand that we all win when they begin to see that the narrative that has existed about Black people for centuries is false and there there is nothing inherently inferior about us.  

It is my desire for white people to understand that we can all live in peace and harmony when they come to truly understand and embrace that people of African descent are human beings, deserving of the same respect, dignity, and rights of white people, that racism is the poison that hinders us all, white and Black.  

White people are the undisputed champions of racism; they invented it, they are invested in believing in t, so if they say that there’s no way in hell that all of Trump’s supporters are racist, because that would exceed the ARC, the standardized Accepted Racism Comfort level, which I believe was last measured at around 30% of the white population. Any figure higher than that represents a flaw in the methodology. Yes, white people have an actual Council of Racism, with elders and bylaws and quarterly meetings and everything.  And the Council has decided that Black people in the United States should be perfectly fine with 30-40% of the white population being overtly and offensively racist.  It’s true, it’s so true!  

If collective white consciousness had it’s ugly way, they would expect Black people to band together and sing in united harmony that ole Negro spiritual that has been passed down for generations, “Oh, Lawdy, Lawd, up in de sky, judgmental and separate from me, Lawd.  Lordy-Lawd, who sees me down here sufferin and don’t never be cutting me no damn slack, Lawd.  Oh, yes Lawd, dat white man is a nasty, vile, evil racist son of a bitch, Lawd, who don’t sees me as a humans beings, Lawd. And he be constantly trynta’ keep his motha fucking boot on my neck, Lawd.  But I kint complains too much, good ole Lwd, cuz, 60-70% of the population is only passively racist and their hearts be in da right place, Lawd! Praise you to the highest blue-eyed and blond-haired, white Jesus who is gonna save me when I’m dead, LAAAAAWD! Aaaaaamen!”  There are even an updated rap version and an Electric Slide-type wedding/dance version. 

It's easy to be distracted with my snarky commentary but clarification is necessary because racism is a complicated and complex situation for sure.  It’s not true that 30-40% of white people are racist.  Goodness no! It’s way more than that. And it’s not true that Black people are in any way comfortable with any percentage of racism whatsoever; that’s just the collective delusional consensus that the media tells the public that is the researched and polled percentage of white people who are racist, +/- 4% margin of error.  That is the collective misunderstanding, that Black people are supposed to be tolerant of a certain amount of racism because white people have a right to be racist and oppressive, even at the cost of Black people’s rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of some mother-fucking, well-deserved happiness.  

White people collectively believe that Black people are not allowed to protest, riot, strike, complain, pout, dislike, or roll their eyes too hard when it comes to discussing racism. And as long as Blacks stay in their place, don’t complain, and show sufficient gratitude for the many blessings of living in a 40% racist society affords us, white people won’t spend every waking moment dedicating their lives to trolling Black people online telling us how not racist this county would be if only we unappreciative Negros would just accept that only 40 percent of white Americans are the hardcore, “I hate niggers,” variety of racists. 

Black people are expected to tolerate racism.  We are expected to suck it up, deal with it, and not get our panties in too much of a bunch because blatant racism is still very prevalent in every facet of society and we can’t be expected to change that too fast or make our demands too extreme because it’s just going to be too upsetting to some racist white people. It’s an unspoken nod to the fact that . . . well, slavery . . . just the word slavery is sufficient, no need to describe the ways slavery was horrible. Who wants to hear about those sorts of crimes against humanity when we can collectively pretend that slavery was a great opportunity to rescue those Black savages from heathen Africa and give them unpaid jobs, it was to help them, right?  

While most white people have never once had a CONSCIOUS thought of telling Black people that there is an exact percentage of racism that we should be willing to tolerate, when questioned about what percentage of racism Black people should tolerate before rioting and burning shit to the ground, white people tell you that the destruction of property, protesting, that anything that tries to change the way things are now is just too radical.  It's evidence that things are more valuable than Black lives.  And their justification, white people's justification for things staying the same as they have always been will fall under the  . . . “that’s just the way things are,” rationalizations for racism responses that is so commonplace it can’t even be questioned. 

White people subconsciously and collectively feel that white people have a right to be racist without too much getting too much flak from Black people because . . .  follow the thought process all the way through . . . because Black people really are inferior.  That has to be the core belief, that Black people really are dumb and worthless and subhuman and all the standard KKK bullet points on Blacks. Even the most ardent anti-racist has to believe that some Blacks are just undeserving of the same luxuries and privileges that white people enjoy.  There is a certain collective belief that  Black people really do just need to suck it up, shut the fuck up, and deal with the reality that a certain percentage of white people are racists and that’s always the way it’s going to be because . . . the subconscious belief is . . . that, “You niggers are undeserving of equality and justice like the rest of us whites.”  Hear that collective sigh of relief, from all the white people who are assured they aren’t racist because they would never say that about a Black person? It’s false confidence.

For white people to say that Black people should tolerate living in deplorable and impoverished ghetto conditions without protesting, without DEMANDING justice and equality as if our lives depended on it, and they do, is to say that the color of our skin means that we really should just deal with the cards we are dealt and not complain too much, even if the dealer cheated. 

White people who are serious about doing anti-racism work should be charged with the assignment to picture themselves switching places with a homeless Black person.  Imagine switching places with them, them moving into your home, driving your car, having your phone, eating your food, bathing in your bathroom, sleeping in your bed.  Now, living as a Black homeless person would, imagine yourself without money, food, water, shelter, without family and support and even without respect from other human beings.  Imagine that you stink so bad that your stench comes to define your very identity.  Imagine that you are spit on, chased, beaten, and called names by incredibly affluent, rich white men for sport. What does that feel like?  How does that make you feel?  What sensations do you have when they are kicking you, making fun of you for being homeless?   Imagine yourself with your every belonging you own in the world in a bag or shopping cart.  Imagine how you would want people to treat you.  Imagine how you would want people to speak to you, what you would want them to say to you to help you.   

Now, imagine if you go back to your house and the homeless person decides that they deserve to live in your house, that they deserve to live nicely and that you deserve to be unbathed, unhoused, and unsafe.  What if the Black person decides that they can roll up their windows and lock their doors when they drive past you?  How would that make you feel?  How would it make you feel if they looked down on you, told you that you it was your fault for being homeless and they couldn't help you and that it was your responsibility to get yourself out of your own situation, even if you aren't responsible for being there in the first place.  

Do you feel outraged?  Do you believe that you are only a certain type of person deserve to be homeless?  What sort of person is that?  What sort of person deserves to sleep on the cold ground?  What did they do to deserve that?  What did you do to deserve it?  Can you imagine a scenario where you don’t feel like you deserve respect and privilege and the comforts you take for granted every day?  The feeling of entitlement to live a life that is nice, is innate to human beings. Black people have the same exact feelings and desires, the same needs for living free of stressors and 

If you’ve never felt empathy for homeless Black people empathy that you would want extended to you if you were in that situation, if you’ve just now considered that homeless Black people feel exactly what you would feel if you were in their situation, not in an imaginary anti-racism workshop exercise, not homeless of your own poor choices and will, but because RACIST forces manipulated all of society to create an environment where Black people are poor and uneducated.  We are not inherently dumb and criminal, and I am deserving of living in comfort.  

Racists will defend racism.  Racists will say that the fact that there are homeless white people and that they don't deserve any special considerations so Black homeless people are there of their own choosing and reprehensible and lazy because people get what they deserve in life and if they are homeless, it's their fault.  Racists actively believe that Black people absolutely do not have an inalienable and inherent right to designer, suburban, affluent things in the same ways that white people are deserving of their middle-class, privileged existence.  Black people seemingly aren’t deserving of granite counter tops and walk in closets, we didn’t earn those nice things the way white people did!  That's the false belief.  

White people fail to grasp that have been systems in place, systemic, institutional, political integrated systems in place to keep Black people poor and uneducated without agency to control their very own manifest destinies. According to racists, the playing field has been even since 1865 according to them.  Or slightly after Martin Luther King was assassinated; one or the other.  The belief that Black people are deserving of being ghetto, living in squalid living conditions is based on the racist belief that slavery had no impact, that racist political policy hasn’t intentionally created a socio-political system that oppresses people of African descent.  The truth is, we are NOT inherently inferior, that our status has always been dictated to by warped individuals who defined us as less than human.  

And let’s hope there’s a concurrent tsunami wave of collective shame and recognition that is moving across legions of woke anti-racists who just realized that they have a lot more work to do in seeing the inherent humanity of Black people. White people must come to understand that Black people are not poor and incarcerated because of genetics or skin color but because of racist policy and practice.  I hope that white people can read my words and understand that their core beliefs have rationalized that Black people should accept horrid living conditions, substandard medical care, and intentionally designed horrific school systems created to keep Black people uneducated without complaining, because that's the way things are.  The realization that white people would NEVER allow themselves to be situation where someone else has determined their fate of poverty and despair and that they would never find comfort in conforming to that injustice is the objective.  

So, as long as the good Negroes conform and don’t complain about racism too much, white people will allow us to wallow in the quagmire that is racist AmeriKKKa in relative peace and simultaneous terror and depression. So, that was absolutely the longest possible way to explain that racism is so innately and intrinsically woven into American culture that dictate the unwritten code of how tolerant/disgruntled Black people are allowed to be and what level of outrage we are allowed to express in this oppressive racist society. 

And so mote it be!

 Here's what I understand to be true at this stage.

Theoretically, we exist in a pyramid scheme of deception. Those of at the bottom, roughly 90 percent of the planet, are blinded. We don't know that other dimensions and magick and that our reality is grafted. We are blind to our own power and omniscience (not of our own choosing but through manipulative and magical efforts) and we exist to make the top 1 percent "empowered" which has more to do with electricity and gold than money.

I THINK about 10 percent of the population has access to the other dimensions but they are bound to secrecy by oaths to supreme . . . power is the only word I have for it, but i would prefer to use the word evil,, demonic and Satanic even with the full knowledgethat those words could mean something completely opposite of our collective usage of those words. I'm guessing it's 10 percent based on Dubois talented tenth but it seem to me the current consciousness is hurling towards far more than 10 percent as more and more people take the oath, drink the juice, or do the drugs that allow them access to the other dimensions. Wealth, greed, racism, and immaturity are not precursors for keeping secrets.

That means that the white people who have taken the oath KNOW that Blacks are the originators of EVERYTHING and their efforts to be degraded and humiliated in this dimension really reflect "the hollow" the fact that everything is flipped upside down. Black is white, birth is death, you is You, your divine consciousness. I am means . . . nothing or perhaps it's detrimental even.

"You are" is your God voice. Every time you say "you," what follows is what your subconscious interprets as self talk. Thus, the constant BEGGING to be humiliated by white men. Thus, the constant racist arrogance to piss you off and make you angry and emotional. Pay attention to white men when they converse and you'll notice that they are masters at using pronouns to give praise and to control what the response is to their directed questions so that you end up saying, "You piece of shit. You (fill in the blank with something negative and degrading) which hurts us 90% but benefits the 10% in the other dimensions.

A handful of evil white people created this reality. They literally created time and space and the laws of physics in order to oppress people of African descent. What i can't understand is how anyone who cheats, lies, manipulates, and literally has magick to shape reality can truly believe that they are superior. They know the truth. Thoth. Atlantis, time, day and night,, KMT, Eve, incest, white women, witchcraft, the Black woman was the original God. They know all of it.

HERE IS WHAT I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

How can the white people who have taken the oath still believe that they are superior when they know it's all lies?

I just had my a-ha moment. And, that ladies and gentlemen, is why I write. I know white men. I know how they convince themselves that their lies are true. It makes sense to me now. They know the ultimate truth and yet they are so egotistical and delusional they believe that they invented everything when they actually stole it.

And the only other thing I know to be true is, while white people stole magick, used time travel, manipulated time and space, WE ARE STILL GODS. WE ARE STILL THE STARS. WE ARE THE UNIVERSE. WE ARE THE ULTIMATE LIVING ALL POWERFUL ALL LOVING GOD CONSCIOUSNESS THE ONE. THE ALL THST IS. THE ORIGINAL PEOPLE. They are not the ultimate power, we are. We are stronger, more powerful than they will ever be.

They are imitators. They are incapable of the love, creativity, intellect, and passion that is naturally within us. We are magical beings. Are my pronouns hurtful to me on another dimension? Possibly. I can't say for sure. My intention is to speak truth to power. My intention is to claim my divinity, my freedom, my power from the jaws of those who think that they are superior because they have lied and cheated and need to oppress the original omniscient and omnipotent beautiful people. Black people, melanated people. The people of Africa.

And because I'm committed to speaking my truth, it is my supposition that Black people who have taken the oath have created or have access to the chess board and they have out-manuvered the handful of whites, the original 12 and their families, and that soon and very soon their reign of oppression will end FOREVER.

And so mote it be.

Happy Juneteenth

I have never been a proponent of celebrating Juneteenth.  I have long since held that celebrating Juneteenth was entirely appropriate for those who were enslaved and newly notified of their freedom.   For Blacks born into a system where their illiteracy was a mandate, and for those who could remember the sting of the evil slave owner’s whip decades after they were liberated from bondage, celebrating Juneteenth was more important than Christmas, worshipping a blond-haired, blue-eyed savior who promised salvation after a life of pain.  For them, June 19th symbolized the end of an era where the enslaved were considered less than human, where they were finally free. 

 

It was my very strong opinion for contemporary Africans born in AmeriKKKa to celebrate Juneteenth, with full access to the knowledge that our ancestor’s freedom was intentionally and deceptively kept from them for two and a half years, with the understanding that white human traffickers profited and capitalized from the unlawful captivity of enslaved Americans, is disrespectful to our ancestors.   It remains my very strong belief that descendants of those criminal human traffickers should be striped of their wealth, every single cent, because it was all born of the original sin, the enslavement of my ancestors. 

 

I was today years old when I found out that white human traffickers, slave owners in states where the enslaved were to be liberated in a timely manner, consistent with the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, moved their farming operations to Texas to deliberately to continue to profit from slave labor.  That’s evil on a level that is beyond my comprehension. 

 

You see, when white people think of slavery, when they see the images of the fatigued, down-trodden, dark-skinned slaves with wide noses and full lips, the scars raised from their skin, they don’t see human beings, they see ugly animals, things to be spat up and abused.  I see my family.  I see my blood.  I intimately feel the pain or rape, of separation from your family, of torture and laboring from sun up to sun down with no reward or compensation.  I see my heritage, my identity, my culture.  I see my great- great-grandparents and my great-great-grandchildren.  I am the enslaved in the past, present, and future. 

 

Day after day, white men call me a nigger.  Sometimes the motivation is to incite me to anger in a game of emotional manipulation.  At times, when I challenge their arrogant assertions that racism ended when Obama was elected, or when I call out their offensive and racist core beliefs, they arrogantly call me a nigger without any irony whatsoever.  If I had a dime for every time a white man called me a nigger when I tell them not to objectify Black men by referring to them as BBC but to refer to them as MEN I would have enough money to buy the freedom of several of my enslaved ancestors.  Daily, white men call me racist nigger bitch when I speak the truth about the inherent inferiority of a race of people who committed the greatest crime against humanity ever committed. You see, for the vast majority of white men who call me a nigger, they believe that the fact that the blood of their ancestors flowing through their veins, ancestors who bought, sold, traded, tortured, raped, branded, lynched, and murdered Black people like it was entertainment to them, they believe that makes them inherently superior to me.  They not only call me a nigger, they believe I’m a nigger because my ancestors built this nation while their lazy, evil ancestors profited from it. 

 

So today, when Republicans are desperately manipulating and scheming to deprive me of my right to vote, my Constitutional RIGHT, not a privilege that I have to earn like I’m a slave on the plantation but rights already afforded me, I celebrate Juneteenth. 

 

Today, when racist legislators are terrified of AmeriKKKa’s true history of perilous racism coming to light, making deals behind closed doors with Trillionaire donors to prevent schools from teaching that slavery even existed, terrified that learning about the true horrors of slavery will open the door to all their magical lies and deceptions coming to light, I celebrate Juneteenth. 

 

In 2021, when white people cheer and celebrate the deaths of unarmed Blacks in the street, when they deny and justify systemic racism and blame its victims for our oppression, indicating their greatest desire is to go back to the days when they could own, buy, and sell me, treating my life like a piece of property, I lift my voice and say that, “We shall overcome, someday, but today, I celebrate Juneteenth.”

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1d5hUA8Jd4

I Like Scat

 

 

Scat as a fetish, a source of sexual arousal is not rare, it’s not extreme or fringe, it’s not even abnormal.  The truth is that scat is extremely prevalent and pervasive in this society, (and British, Japanese, German, and Brazilian cultures as well but you know that already because you’re an adult who looks at porn) and people deny the truth that is right in front of our collective eyes because we have been convinced by scripted TV, movies, and “polite society” that anything more than kissing and missionary sex is fringe and extreme.  The collective delusional belief, created by forces that feed off our emotions of shame and fear, is that people who are aroused by scat are surely one-eyed trolls who live under a bridge and unable to function in society and you will be able to tell in a fraction of a second if you see someone who likes scat because they are freaks.  We are convinced that no sane person in the world is aroused by scat, only insane people could be that fucked up. The truth is, people who are aroused by scat are regular, normal people who subsequently live in shame of being aroused by something that millions and millions of people find arousing and are terrified of someone finding out that they like something that is a natural extension of our natural sexuality.  What?  How can I say that scat is natural, not disgusting and gross?  Because our bodily functions are normal.  There is nothing disgusting or unnatural about what our bodies produce. 

 

I get it, before we are out of diapers, we have been convinced that poo-poo is nasty, gross, and disgusting.  We live our entire lives, we don’t even have memories of a time when we haven’t been told that shit is stinky and dirty and shameful. We have to close the door when we shit lest we offend our family, we have to strategically time our workplace shits so we can be alone and no one will smell our poop.  We have to spray away the smell, we have to be ashamed if we fart. We are a society obsessed with germs and the fear of germs so scat has to, by default, be at the very top of that list. Didn’t MC Hammer say, “Can’t touch shit!” Surely you can’t or you’ll have to cut off your hand because you will have cooties.  We surveyed 100 people with the top six answers on the board.  Finish this sentence.  Eating shit will cause you to, Normal family, what do you say?  How about . . . die, Steve? And the survey says, . (bing) DIE.  The number 1 answer, 100 people answered.  But is that true?  Isn’t it possible to see millions of videos online of people eating shit.  Are they all dying? Is there a secret pandemic of people eating shit and dying and we don’t hear anything about it on the news?  It certainly seems odd that on any given day, thousands of new scat video content is uploaded to the internet by Karens and Kens all over the country doing extreme, elaborate shit play.  White people LOVE disgusting, filthy, nasty, extreme shit play and the evidence is all over the internet and we pretend it doesn’t exist because we don’t want anyone to know that we look at it.  

 

It’s time for me to say here the Black people online engage in shit play but not to the same level of dysfunction as whites.  Black scat online consists of just the act of shitting, showing the pile of turds, shit fucking, having anal sex that gets dirty, and with less frequency, smearing it. 

 

I’m not saying there aren’t people who are genuinely disgusted and repulsed by scat. Of course there are lots people who do, we live in a society that tells us that our vaginas are supposed to smell like spring rain and our underarms are supposed to smell like Tropical Coconut Vanilla Harmony obviously people are going to believe that nothing could be more disgusting.  But tons of people pretend it’s disgusting to project and protect their image as sane and they are aroused by it behind closed doors.  That creates insanity, that creates a level of sexual dysfunction that eats at their mental health. I refuse to be one of them any longer. 

 

I’m aroused by scat.

 

I’ve always said that if you want to know what AmeriKKKa is really like, look at amateur porn, that’s where the truth lies.  We live in a narcissistic, self-absorbed society that NEEDS to show off their kink to the world and what they do behind closed doors is on full display for the world to see 24/7.  The reality is that on every porn site on the internet, there is evidence of people’s extensive fascination with shit.  Mainstream porn sites like Pornhub and Xhamster don’t have porn on listed on their categories further convincing people that scat is so nasty, that it crosses a taboo that normal people can’t stomach.  Take a look at the cartoon/3D porn and you will see scat galore. Read the comment an anal videos, they will unashamedly display people’s insatiable lust for dirty ass-to-mouth and other scat related interests.  There’s one thing you can be sure of.  For every white middle-class, suburban white woman licking public toilets and smearing herself with shit, for every live cam model shit-fucking her asshole with dildos in private shows, for every white man hiding his identity and dressing up in women’s clothes and eating shit, for every Satanic, white supremacist shit orgy, there are countless more who are doing similar things behind closed doors who are terrified to post any sort of scat content online.  Even those who are willing to post other extreme content, scat remains the final taboo.  And for every person who is terrified to post their scat sex online, there are even more of us who would never do any sort of scat play, who have no desire to act out their mental scat fantasies, are still aroused by watching videos. 

 

It seems that on an almost daily basis, I have submissive white men who are shocked, astounded even that I know their nasty secret, that they want to eat my shit.  Almost without exception, the start of every conversation with white men starts out with them denying and lying about their interest in scat, telling me how gross it is, how they take extra precaution to avoid any shit in their undercover gay sex romps with strangers in glory holes, and how it’s absolutely a hard limit for them.  And inevitably, when I tell them I’m a scat Domme, that I employ the psychological use of scat extensively in my domination, all of a sudden their story changes and they BEG me to eat my shit and they are voracious shit eaters. And I can’t count the number of times they’ve said, “This is my scat profile, my regular profile is (fill in the blank with some predictable porn name).”  Think about how absurd that is.  Your life is so compartmentalized and you are so full of shame, that you can’t even put all your desires on your kink profile where your face isn’t shown and you list that you are from Antarctica.

 

Black men are not very different although the instances of them expressing interest in scat is exponentially more rare than white men.  Those who do have interest almost always start out telling me how much they hate scat, how disgusting it is, and then, oddly enough, when I tell them that I am aroused by scat, Oh my goodness, what do you know, they really like it and they only lied because no women like it and they apparently have been shamed by women by confessing their scat desires and now they have to lie about it.  Which is an entirely appropriate response for a 15 year old.  Emotionally mature adults understand that building a relationship based on lying to your partner about who you are and what you like is bound to fail. 

 

When I was a teen in the 70s I found my mother's porn collection.  It remains one of the most extensive collections I've ever encountered bar one or two men who were anti-social, misogynist, porn addicts.  She had dozens of copies of primarily Penthouse Variations, Penthouse, and Hustler magazines, no lame Playboy or even Playgirl for her, as well as a host of even more extreme sexual books, manuals, and guides.  I surmised at the time that her porn collection was largely from the men she dated as they were all married.  It made sense to my mind that they would give her their porn to hide from their wives and additionally it would make her appear more progressive and sexually liberated which was a win/win for all parties involved. Now, I understand that it was probably her own personal collection, that women’s sexuality is not limited to soft core romance and is as varied and complex as men’s. Whatever the truth, the result was that around the age of 14 or 15, I had volumes of porn to explore after school, every day, until I graduated high school and moved out. 

 

From the start I gravitated to the stories more than pictures.  The pictures were titillating to me but it was the late 70s or early 80s so diversity . . . wasn’t a thing.  Every model was Barbie with blond hair, blue eyes, thick makeup, fake boobs, and an anorexic body.  Suffice it to say, the novelty wore off quickly.  Even then I was more evolved than just being aroused by one-dimensional images.  The lesbian pictorials, even though they were only white women, made me tingle "down there." I loved passion and connection, I loved authenticity, even at that age.  Other than a few interracial images with Back men and white women in some of the more extreme/hardcore books, all of the couples were white and even then I felt disconnected from their sexuality.  I didn't know how, but even as a virgin I knew that I didn't relate to what they were depicting and those books.   I loved reading the tiny digests that held stories of deviance the most. Penthouse letters, with its stories of vanilla fucking, bored me, I wanted kink.  Mind you, at that age, in that time, the only sexual images I had seen in real life were late night episodes of Benny Hill.  For those too young to remember, it was like British Dave Chappelle with boobs, gratuitous skit of crass humor that featured topless women that served no purpose whatsoever other than to show boobs. 

 

Penthouse Variations was my absolute favorite and I read every word in every copy, and there were years worth of copies, all neatly aligned in order of publication.  It wasn’t long before I realized that my mother had a subscription to Variations and a new edition would come in the mail every month. I would let her read it for a few days before I made my move to look at it.  She would always hide the newest copies under her mattress or in her underwear drawer until it moved to its neatly cataloged spot with all the older copies in her closet. I remember reading the incest stories and the golden shower stories first.  I thought the mother/son and the brother/sister stories were the hottest even though I had no brothers, which obviously meant my mother had no sons, so I had no personal reference to fantasize about those particular dynamics intimately.  I absolutely did not like stories of fathers and daughters at all which is sort of odd because I didn't know my father so it shouldn't have had much of an issue with that dynamic.  Even to this day I find stories of fathers having sex with daughters to be instances of rape and power and misogyny and not at all arousing to me.   That’s just me. 

 

I didn’t know how to orgasm so just getting wet was pleasurable for me.  I would kneel in front of the mirror, look at my asshole, and stick a hairbrush handle in it. Vaginal penetration didn’t offer as much arousal, even at that age. I didn’t even know enough to fuck my pussy at the time.  I remember the fear of my mother smelling shit on the handle and I was meticulous in scrubbing it free of any shit smell.  As I got a little more confident in my ability to put the magazines back in the EXACT way I found them, I would take the new edition to the bathroom after dinner and while my mother was downstairs watching TV, I would sit on the toilet and read it, getting aroused by stories of people peeing on one another.  Once or twice, I took a copy to bed with me and read it under the covers with a flashlight.  That was too rogue for me and I was too terrified of getting caught so I went back to after school reading while my mother was at work. 

 

In the collection of porn there was a book of women's fantasies titled My Secret Garden.  Women, real women as they were called, as if there is another kind of woman, shared their secret sexual fantasies. The various chapters explored all sorts of sexual fetishes including rape, bestiality, interracial, lesbian, incest, etc.  One story was about a woman who fantasized about she and her friend hiking.  Mid hike, her friend stated that she had to go to the bathroom.  She was captivated by watching her pull down her pants and piss and then, without warning, she decided to take a shit.  The contributor described watching it come out and how aroused she got watching her friend pushing out a turd in front of her.  That story mesmerized me.  I can’t tell you why.  I was practically vanilla it was so tame. She took a shit on the forest floor and her friend watched.  That was it.  The end.  When I went away to college, the first week I was there I bought that book, feeling liberated like an adult for the first time in my life, and read that story for YEARS, far more than a decade.  In fact, it was the ONLY story in the book I read.  I don’t remember how I masturbated in college, it certainly wasn’t with any toys, and I doubt I was sexually mature enough to know about clitoral orgasms so I probably just fingered myself and convinced myself that I was having an orgasm, replicating what the stories depicted by breathing heavy and moaning. 

 

I was married for a short while during the time VHS porn was burgeoning.  I didn't want to watch anything but anal porn, preferably lesbian anal porn.   The lesbians were raunchier, they were more explicit in their unadulterated love of all things anal.  I started to experiment with various aspects of anal: wearing butt plugs in public, using vibrators and dildos, etc.  When I divorced, I graduated to using longer and bigger anal dildos.  I remember the first time I used an anal probe and it came out with shit on it, I freaked out and ran to clean it.  The very next day, as I used it, in the back of my mind I knew it was going to have shit on it when it came out and that thought, just the knowledge that it might come out with streaks of shit on it thrilled me.  At one point, I masturbated anally every day for over a year. I would read the story of the woman watching her friend shit in the woods, use a vibrator on my clit, and not even fuck myself in the ass, I would just put the dildo in my ass and enjoy the feeling of fullness.  I had no desire to play with shit myself, I had no desire to eat shit.  I had zero real time shit desires other than the thought that my anal toy might come out streaked and that thought alone was thrilling. 

 

As the years progressed, it dawned on me that anal was my primary source of arousal.  It would have been blatantly apparent had I been the least bit introspective in this sexually repressive society but I came of age during the time when women weren't allowed to say anything but, "Anal!?!?!  Yuck! That's nasty!"  Enemas became erotic to me.  The cramping, the expulsion, the feeling of lightness that followed, the entire fact that it was associated with me preparing to masturbate anally.  I only watched anal porn.  Anal is still the only porn I consume although I only listen to the more verbal porn while I read gay scat erotic stories. My tastes in anal porn are very specific. I HATE listening to white men talk in porn, it turns me off if I hear them degrading and abusing women, white men all sound obnoxious and annoying to me in porn.  I like mature women, women who are old enough to own their sexuality, not young girls who have been weaned on porn their entire lives, saying things like, “Ram your big dick in my shithole and fuck me.”  I am repulsed by women being degraded and objectified and that’s 98% of porn so I usually go to my favorited mature anal verbal porn I use as a soundtrack while reading stories of men who are voracious shit pigs. 

 

In my early thirties, I started to discover BDSM.  I would encounter submissive white men EVERYWHERE.  If I went to get gas, the white man at the pump next to me would stare and I would boldly ask, "Are you submissive," and he would fall all over himself proclaiming how he wanted to devote himself to me.  In the grocery store, at my favorite local restaurant, everywhere I went, white men would linger too long at looking at my feet or my ass and I would just come out and say, "Are you submissive," and the response was always affirmative.  It was the late 90s so the internet was becoming mainstream so I wanted to understand more about domination and submission so I would ask questions online. I honestly thought that someone was playing some sort of trick on me.  Every white I encountered online described his NEED to drink my piss, to lick my dirty asshole, and eat my shit.   I thought that it had to be the same guy creating multiple profile identities to stalk me.  The idea of white men serving me in that way was arousing on some level but it was also very apparent to me that they didn't really see themselves as inferior to me, that their depravity dictated that they thought that eating my shit was particularly nasty, nastier than eating a white woman's shit because they saw me as a nigger, they equated eating my shit as the pinnacle of depravity.  I was Black and that made me more animalistic, less human in their eyes.  It was then that I became a psychological Domme, manipulating white men's inherent racism to reveal to them that I was truly superior to them, that it wasn't just a role I played that ended at the bedroom door. 

 

In my 20 years of dominating white men, I’ve never fed anyone my shit.  I’ve given enemas to two men.  I took a shit on a newspaper once but it was not with anyone else, it wasn’t something I did as an act of domination, it was a personal exploration to see how it would feel.  Just the idea of shitting someplace other than in a toilet was arousing to me.  After I did it, I panicked because I was terrified of how to throw it away without being detected. I couldn’t leave it in the trash can and I was terrified that if I threw it away in a trash can outside, someone would see me or find it or something. Twenty years after discovering my mother’s book that held that one story, I still couldn’t even acknowledge to myself that I was scat aroused.  I had no desire to touch, taste, or experiment in any way with shit. I wasn’t sexually aroused taking a shit but the second I went online, I was reading scat erotic stories. For the better part of the last 25 years online, I have orgasmed to reading scat stories, primarily gay scat stories over 90% of the time. 

 

Where I am now, today, with the last decade and a half of being ESSENTIALLY abstinent, only having a boyfriend for very short periods of time during that period, with the remaining time being essentially sexless, I’m completely comfortable with my level of scat arousal.  I have written some amazing scat stories, all fiction.  Truth is vital to my identity so I have only lied to two or three white men about my experience feeding white men shit, but the truth is I’ve never done it, I don’t NEED to do it, and if I do ever decide that someone is worthy of eating my shit, they will have spent several years proving their devotion, commitment and love to me, it’s not something I would do casually and it’s not a service I would ever sell.  Today, my mother pretends that she’s never ever heard of golden showers, that she can’t understand how Trump might be aroused by being peed on.  I can’t do it.  I refuse to do that.  If someone doesn’t like me because I’m aroused by scat, I am perfectly fine with that because I know it doesn’t define me and I can assure you that the very people who pretend not to like it, are doing all sorts of nasty things that they deny and denigrate in public. 

 

My desire now, at almost 55 years of age, is to share in my life with an openly-bisexual, scat aroused Black man where he physically dominates white men with me, including feeding them his shit, while I psychologically dominate them.  In my ideal fantasy, beautifully chronicled in my story, The Shitty Four Day Weekend, my lover and I dominate white men together, I administer the psychological torture, he the physical punishment.  I would love to experience the intimacy of having my lover, my partner, my man sitting on a rim chair and feeding a white man while I make love to him, I slide my pussy down on his dick and tell him I love him, I love that we dominate white men together.  I want to look him in his eyes while a white man begs and pleads for my man’s shit, licking his asshole, tongue fucking it, giving my lover pleasure beyond description while he waits for my lover’s manly turd to fill his mouth.  The thought of telling my man that I love him, kissing him, feeling his dick inside me while some white guy is chewing on his shit, licking his hole, sucking it, tonguing it . . . just the thought drives me mad.  That level of intimacy and connection is intoxicating to me. 

 

I can create a shit pig with no effort whatsoever; I can turn someone from saying they don’t like shit to someone who is begging me for it in a matter of hours.  I've done it too many times to count. It’s my psychological fuck. Every type of white man craves shit, from rich to poor, from the highly educated to the Trump supporter.  They all share similar stories of their scat evolution because it’s part of the natural human spectrum of sexuality. The story is almost always the same.  At the beginning of their sexual awakening, they realized that they like anal stimulation.   They found their mother’s dildo, they used their father’s screwdrivers, their sister’s hairbrush or they put a carrot up their ass.  Because society has convinced males to believe they are gay, sissies, some form of sub-human scum if they like being anally penetrated it set the stage for their life of shame, denial and lies.  The only problem is, again, is that if your body experiences sexual pleasure from a physical sensation, it’s supposed to, it’s natural.  Anal arousal is as natural for men as it is for women, we share the EXACT same physiology, the exact same anatomy except men have a prostate, a male clitoris that is made for men to experience even greater physical pleasure.  The male ass was built for penetration. 

 

Just as I discovered with my anal probe, just as I experienced with the hairbrush in my mother’s bedroom, occasionally there is going to be shit involved with anal play. That is normal and natural. And what we experience when we are sexually aroused becomes hard-wired to our sexual identities.  So, the truth is, men, women, EVERYONE enjoys anal stimulation, it’s the way our bodies were built.  And eventually, shit is going to come into play with anal sex and because we associate it with being shameful, being taboo, with being the nastiest thing that we could ever want, it becomes our shameful secret.  Not just me, not just one-eyed trolls who live under a bridge, but anyone who allows themselves to experience the truth and the fullness of their sexuality.  That means that a whole lot of people are in denial about what role shit plays in their arousal.

 

It's taken me 40 years to get comfortable with the fact that I associate shit with sex and that I'm not at all abnormal.  It's taken me intense introspection, growth, and healing to get comfortable with the fact that I'm intelligent, articulate, sometimes considered reasonably attractive, AND the idea of shit play makes me wildly aroused.  I refuse to hide it from lovers any longer, I refuse to accept that it makes me abnormal, I will not compartmentalize my sexuality to the point where I think it’s something separate from my “normal” self. For many years, I was convinced that I was the ONLY educated, Afrocentric Black woman in the world aroused by scat. Well, no more. I absolutely refuse to be ashamed of being aroused by WATCHING scat porn, not by engaging in it, not by acting it out, but by watching people who do engage in it. Shout out to all the Black people who have become comfortable enough to express their desires for scat play.  I refuse to give one more second of fear or shame to something that is the normal, natural byproduct of our human sexuality.  The more I acknowledge the many facets of my sexuality without shame, the less power I give those who capitalize and benefit from my fear in being seen as abnormal.  And the more I embrace my whole sexual self, the more freedom I have and the less hold the manipulative powers who try to convince us that AmeriKKKa is asexual have over me.