Where is everyone?

Where have all the Satanists gone?
Were has everyone gone, for that matter?

I once more haven't posted here in a very long time, and I wasn't sure if I ever would again. A lot has happened in these past months and years, mostly terrible things, and a couple times I didn't think I'd make it through at all. The worst was that the city hired a mass murderer and committed a holocaust against my nutria clan at the park, and still no one has been brought to justice for it yet. I hope these disgusting things in human shape will have to face Eternal Justice - Eternal suffering and damnation.

Consequentially I was extremely close to leaving this world behind myself, but once again I have to count my blessings: My adorable Hartje and a few other loved ones turned up again alive. 

As for human friends - they're all gone. I lost my Facebook account just over a year ago, and with it I lost all my friends, including my very best friends, one of whom I even met in person back before traveling became impossible due to the plandemic.

Speaking of which - which brings me back to my initial question above, especially regarding Satanists. Before I lost my FB account I saw quite a few getting "assimilated" by the mask-and-clot-shot mental illness - when the one thing that true Satanism is all about is FREEDOM, and rebellion against all forms of tyranny! 
What happened to them?? How can one call themselves a Satanist but simply conform to the worst kind of tyranny the world has seen in a very long time???

And on the other hand, quite a large number of those who did stand up to it turned out to be Christians. The world seems to have turned upside down. 

It's been years indeed, years since I've last traveled to Amsterdam, or anywhere, years since everything got turned upside down, and all this time I haven't been able to get rid of the nagging, although quite irrational question at the back of my mind, where did I take the wrong turn? If only I could backtrack to that fateful error and correct it, so that the whole plandemic BS would never have happened.

I'm certainly aware of how irrational it is to feel as if this plague of tyranny that befell the entire world might have been because of some mistake that I personally made. And yet I haven't been able to shake it, and I'm wondering if someone else my feel this way too, even though we know it's the sad little man and some other cronies that are truly responsible for that part.

I guess it's just because the world truly is in upheaval and it still feels unreal to be actually experiencing these insane events. I know it has split up families and friends, while in my own case I think it's rather that my friends have been thrown into other, quite unrelated problems of their own, just as I myself have been, regarding the terror that befell my nutria family. Fortunately the ones who survived the holocaust remain as the only little lights of joy in the darkness.

Reunion with my lovely Hartje,
my little black heart

The great rescue from the underworld

I've been very, very busy, this is a post from over 6 weeks ago and I still didn't get around to editing & posting it...

To say the city has been doing a poor job at renovating the artificial lake at the park would be an understatement, it's more like a disaster, and sadly a quite deliberate one. Some of those in charge of this are scumbags that absolutely hate animals, and especially my beloved nutrias.

Nutrias normally rely on the water for refuge, but since the water was gone now, Martok and the family had taken refuge in the very drainpipe through which their lake had vanished.
Then the day came and I found that the municipality had now closed off the entrance to the drainpipe, trapping the nutrias inside. I was devastated, I thought my beloved friends to be dead.

But then with the help of some human friends who care for them too, we lifted off some manhole lids leading down to the drainpipe. An underground maze was thus uncovered, mostly consisting of pipes less than 2' wide, big enough to easily admit a nutria, but too small for a human. But further "downstream" we found a larger tunnel, about 6' high, just tall enough for me to walk upright in it - and I was the only person physically capable of climbing down. Large spiders guarding the manhole openings posed a further deterrence to the others...

So I went down alone exploring this tunnel, and I quickly rediscovered my little furry friends in it!
The tunnel went on for about 300 feet in either direction from the manhole. On the western side it ended abruptly at a sheer wall of metal, above which a very large pipeline, about 4 feet wide, opened into the tunnel on the right side. There was a constant rushing noise as of enormous volumes of water. It was quite scary, thinking if any slider or floodgate were to be opened right now, the water masses might come rushing down through the huge pipe above me and wash me away through this tunnel.

On the opposite end, the tunnel led to the Rhine river, but there was no direct way out but only a sort of "crossroads", with another water pipe coming in from the left, the water poring down into a small basin that entered into a further pipe, presumably leading into the Rhine river, but this latter pipe again was less than 2' wide; if the tunnel were to be flooded the nutrias might get washed out here, but I wouldn't fit through that pipe myself.

Fortunately the tunnel itself had no water flowing, only about 2'' were in the rounded bottom of it. I walked barefoot in it since I didn't have any rubber boots with me on that first day.

I continued bringing the six nutrias food down here for the next three or four days, being the only person who could do it. But my fellow human nutria friends had been active in their own ways, contacting a professional animal rescuer. He came all the way from Dusseldorf the following Saturday. He and I then climbed into the tunnel together and got the nutrias out!

He put a video of the operation on Youtube, but it's in German language, which I don't speak.

Here's me on the rescue day, getting ready to climb down once more.

There were more nutrias to rescue in the following days in other parts of the park.

Still sunburned from the day, here I was late at night (and night falls VERY late in Germany at this time of the year!), having just rescued a baby nutria.

So glad my Martok and family are back up on the grass and able to swim in their lake again, which is slowly being refilled with water now.

Now lately I've been able to get a little more sleep again, I normally need to go to bed early since I get up at 5 AM for workout during the summer. Afternoons I usually ride to the park to look after them.

Ben je een wappie of ben je een schaap?

I'll translate the title for you, but we'll come to that.

I've never been much into politics, never been a liberal or a conservative - if anything at all perhaps a libertarian, since I'm all for freedom and thus pro individual rights - pro choice, pro LGBT, but also pro gun rights, and pro nuclear power.
Then during Donald Trump's candidacy and subsequent presidency I witnessed how my country became more and more divided, how some people would cut friends out of their lives based on whether they either loved or hated Trump. Myself I continued to have both friends who loved him as well as others who hated him, and I thought it to be silly to be so intolerant of people with different opinions, and I thought myself I'll never get caught in this divide.

Then the world changed in ways I'd never have expected, the plague came, I lost my gym so I had to change my workout - and the divide changed too, and I very clearly came down on one side of it. Still I won't cut anyone out for being on the other side of it, and I do have friends who are willing to comply with the mass vaccination program or who even have done so already.
But here's what the title of this post means. It's Dutch, and "wappie" is a sort of Dutch slang word for a conspiracy theorist, it could possibly even be translated as "tin foil hatter", since it was originally meant to be derogatory but has hence been reclaimed, similar to how the word gay was once offensive but got reclaimed (and now there's gay Pride even, which is great).
Een schaap is a sheep. So you're either a wappie (tin foil hatter) or a sheep, that's what the new divide is.
I also learned that the new definition of "conspiracy theorist" is: one who distrusts authorities.
So of course, I'm 100% wappie!

I'm glad for all others who protest the "New Normal", and I've heard of quite a number of protests - very awesome reporting from Amsterdam here: "Shite Guides"! The first person I found was Bjorn the Viking, and I was grateful to find all those people commenting on his videos in support of his opinion - and thus of mine. (Here he's making a smartphone - I never wanted one, but with his awesome instructions here I think I might just make myself one like his too!)
And I love this Dutch BLCKBX site which I found, with very informative video discussions with different people, however mostly all in Dutch language. Myself I can understand it fairly well although I'm far from fluent in Dutch, but I know only very few others who know Dutch. I'd share more of their videos if it weren't so pointless if my friends don't understand the language.
But now here is one, and a very important one, which is entirely in English - it's Eric Clapton! I'm far too young to be really familiar with him, but even I have heard of him before, I know he's a famous one! I can only encourage everyone to watch this video and hear about his tragic and terrible fate, wondering if he'll ever be able to play the guitar again.
Here's Eric Clapton on BLCKBX!

A world that's departed

 And still I'm here. Like a sentinel forgotten at some remote, forsaken outpost. I've always felt that way to some extent, but now even more so, now that I know for sure that this is where I'll die, because until I do I'll never be anywhere else again. Left with only fond memories of past travels to Amsterdam and to Ireland, places now made off limits so much they could as well be on some distant planet in another galaxy, never to be seen again in this lifetime.

And my beloved Viking has departed too. I don't know when exactly, only that his remains emerged by the side of the lake on March 6th, in an advanced state of decay after he had been missing for two month at the time.

He has been and always will be one of my most beloved, and hopefully he'll be awaiting me on the Other Side.

At least my Bumpy and my Rosso and my other darlings are still with me here, and I can call myself fortunate to have these sweet companions on my journey, in these times when humankind has cursed itself in such strange ways. Fortunate also to live at the very outskirts of the city, a rather rural area close to nature, and that I have the professional knowledge I need in order to do my workout with minimal equipment, and very efficiently. I can certainly feel yesterday's leg workout.

It makes shenanigans like the above easy for me. This was just for fun at the park. For actual workout I use higher things for plyo jumps, fortunately I got several flat boulders of perfect heights right by my home.
I miss the fleamarkets I used to go to. But so far I still got clothes to wear, which are very hard to come by without the markets; unaffordable at most stores, but stores are closed anyway, or accessible only with an idiotic Covid test which is out of the question for me. I'm trying my best to steer clear of all this shit, and I wear a mask only at the grocery stores where it's "required", but even then only my hand-sewn camouflage one. Only once I've been denied entry for this reason, but that was at some upscale shit store anyway. LOL Other than that I think a lot of people are against this tyranny too, or at least I hope so - they can't all be sheeple, now can they?!

To clarify: I'm not saying the pandemic isn't real - although there are people who do, or at least it may be a matter of definition. But regardless, in any case the true enemy is not the virus but the totalitarian measures to supposedly "protect" against it. Those who put such measures in place are the enemies of FREEDOM! And without FREEDOM, life is perfectly worthless. I would never sacrifice my freedom to merely stay alive, but I'll always put my life on the line to defend my freedom!
And don't worry, if I should ever fall ill with this virus or with anything else I will never occupy any "precious" hospital bed, I'll make damn sure no one will ever take me to a hospital which would be my worst nightmare; I'll either survive without any help or I'll die, in the natural way, just like my furry family live and die in their natural ways. Because unlike most people (apparently?) I've long come to terms with the fact that this body I inhabit now is to be mine for only a brief span of time, we all are only passing through here, whether we're embodied as apes or as rodents or something else.

With my Bumpy!

Playground workout, dips on rings & stuff

Just one of my regular workouts, but with video clips taken.

Viking

I'm still here. I've hardly ever been posting here anymore for lack of time, and being chronically fatigued, which I hate. But others would probably be far worse off... it's usually workout in the morning, and later riding to the park to look after my little furry people.

Sadly, this handsome ginger I called Viking
has been missing since Jan. 2nd :(

The local dictatorship extended the lockdown several times - I've lost count of how many times, first it was until Midwinter, then January 10th, then end of January, then February 14th, now March 7th... so yeah, my gym remains closed - but I sure haven't missed a single day of workout all winter!

Even in the rain, and in the snow as well, and when the monstrous deepfreeze came just over a week ago, which fortunately has ended now. Only on those coldest days did I even wear gloves to exercise on the cold metal bars. It only made me hardier than ever, even though I'm not built for the cold. Amid all this madness, with all governments using that plague as an excuse to go full totalitarian, at least it made me discover what I'm capable of, and it drove me outdoors even more than ever.

It's sad that my traveling days may very likely be over, due to that plague - and by plague I'm actually referring more to the restrictions and harassment that has been put in place using the actual disease as an excuse. I may never see Belfast again, or even Amsterdam, in this lifetime. It's best to stay under the radar as much as possible and avoid places and situations where such harassment is applied.

I may even lose my gym membership permanently, if the dictatorships go ahead with requirements for vaccination IDs and such shenanigans, which I will never have.

I sometimes wish I had some support, but I only have the little furry people.

I recently found this Viking guy on Youtube, and I wish I had some friends like him. I've come to like watching his videos, in which he's usually out in the Norwegian wilderness by himself, talking about his thoughts on the global situation. He definitely is a voice of reason amidst all this insanity. Like myself he doesn't have a smartphone - he got rid of his, while myself I've never had one - and like myself he takes refuge in Nature. Here's a random pick of his more recent videos.

The world could definitely use more people like him, who see through all this chicanery that has been put in place. We must draw our line in the sand, as he said, and stand our ground.

Lockdown exercise videos...

...screw that, I ain't doing no lockdown. LOL 

All summer I had paused my gym membership; after being forced to work out mainly outdoors back in spring I found that it was going great for me and so I stuck with it until October. 
And now I'm back at it already, because my gym got closed again. 
Today, only in the backyard, so I decided to record a few clips of it.

After finishing my workout I rode to the park again to visit my fluffy family.

Number of days I've stayed at home this year: 0

My gym may be closed, but the great outdoors is always open!

Photo session with Bumpy

Lately I was so lucky to have these beautiful photos taken of us; that's mostly me and Bumpy; last one is of Rosso - not together, that wouldn't have worked since they both are alpha males with different territories and don't tolerate each other.

Things are not great right now at the park, with the water level catastrophically low and the municipality not giving a shit. And just shortly after successfully rescuing two of Rosso's babies, as I related in the previous entry, sadly I had to bury one of them, the little Golden One.
But fortunately Bumpy and Rosso are fine, Rosso no longer limping on three legs but his injury finally healed by now, and there are also some few surviving babies - as well as new ones whom I haven't even seen yet. Two big adults both of whom I had deemed to be male turned up pregnant, and both have given birth in the past week, which I can only tell from seeing that the two, Biggie and Brownie, are no longer pregnant. The new babies are probably still staying in a nest on the island hopefully staying safe.

My beautiful Bumpy

Kissy for Bumpy

Cutest thing ever how Bumpy is holding his hand,
like he's imitating me, so adorable!

...and a kissy for Rosso too.

Rescue of abducted babies

I had a not-so-great time at the park on Saturday. I had met that photographer again, I'll call him R., a kind man who always brings lots of treats when he visits the little fluffies. We had found Rosso - poor Rosso who has been injured once more for three weeks now and is limping on three legs and only slowly getting a bit better, Rosso who broke his teeth back in December so I had to bring him food every day then. About three weeks later his teeth had grown back and he was fine; sadly his injured forelimb seems to take longer to heal now.

Rosso, sitting with feet sprawled out sideways,
so cute. He still can't use his right hand.

So for what happened on Saturday, while my attention was on Rosso, R. alerted me to a group of people on the opposite side of the water he had spotted carrying away a nutria. I jumped on my bike and rode around the lake to intercept them. I found them settled for some picnic, but they had two nutrias with them, both babies from Black Mommy's nest, the brown one and a black one.
I confronted them and they claimed they were just feeding them - they were indeed giving them some twigs with green leaves, but while a man was firmly holding the black baby with both hands, in the way you put your hands around someone's throat if you want to choke them. A woman held the brown baby which kept escaping twice.
I talked to them for a while, they were Italian and didn't speak English very well, and asked me about where I'm from and so on. Eventually they decided to leave and let the babies go. Both quickly made it into the pond, but they were away from their home place and seemed lost and disoriented, and I felt responsible for returning them home.
I managed to catch the brown one quite easily although some idiot with his kid was bothering me. (He was offended that I ignored his kid who was babbling to me in German, while I was obviously busy with more important problems.)
I brought the nutria baby back to the shrubbery by the BBQ place where they live and returned to do the same with his black sibling, which turned out much more difficult though. I even took off my shoes and waded into the lake, but the poor baby was so scared and kept escaping. R. was watching from the far side where he had stayed, and warned me it wasn't safe for the baby to swim into the center, since there are some very large fish in the water. To no avail, the baby swam all the way to the opposite side, so I rode back around. I found him back, having climbed out of the water, and I managed to distract him with some food and then to quickly snatch him up so I could bring him home. It pained me so much how scared he was. I held him close to my heart and, still barefoot, walked him over where I let him slip into the shrubbery to rejoin his siblings. R. and I went back there to check on them, and they were at ease now in their familiar location, coming to us again without fear.
Rosso also came back there once more - he's their daddy.
So it ended well but left me feeling very bruised and worried. I have no idea if those people would have let them go without my intervention, or what their intentions might have been, but in any case it was horrible enough of them to displace the babies from their home; they might or might not have eventually found their way back on their own, but straying around disoriented would certainly have put them at risk of severe exhaustion and more vulnerable to predators. What if R. and I hadn't been there at the right time? It's so awful that I can't ever be at peace, always having to worry that some idiots might do some shit to my beloved animals while I'm absent.

The golden brown baby with two black siblings. I don't know
which one of the black ones I saved, there are two more.

Daddy Rosso with one of his babies.

It's troubling enough that these days the water level of the pond is really low, and since it's artificial, the sides are vertical stones in most places, and the nutrias now have a hard time climbing out, especially the small babies as well as the injured ones, like Rosso, who can use only his left hand to pull himself up. There hasn't been much rain lately. Only on Sunday I worked out in the rain, which I didn't mind since it wasn't overly cold then, but the rain didn't last long, but instead the weather has turned freezing cold since yesterday (Monday), but no more rain.

Two other tiny babies down in the shallow water.
How to possibly climb up that high "curb"?

I brought some stones to build "stairs" for them.

The Bog Gym

Long hours spent outdoors again, as it ought to be. But although I haven't had any trouble so far, it's hard to ignore a certain feeling of being persecuted, or at least at the brink of it. A veritable maze of construction fence has come up around the outdoor "gym" at the park over the past week or so, yesterday I saw two guys working out there anyway, so there must be a way in but I haven't further pursued it, as I'd be very uncomfortable with the risk of possibly having my workout disrupted. After all, I still know a nice alternative. It's up in the woods, the horizontal ladder thing and the double bars are at separate locations, about half a mile apart. I had both places all to myself.

I don't mind that this thing is rusty, or that the ground underneath is a swamp.I love the woods and the outdoors, and I'm used to being alone, and don't care if people probably think I'm some dirty homeless girl, as I'm usually mud stained. This is my way of life.

I had a great day. Got myself lost in the woods a bit on a long ride to get to the park from there, which actually is in the opposite direction from home. I probably rode 25 miles in all today. I saw a few people on horseback in the woods, and many others cycling and hiking, and I'm glad they're still coming out, I even felt a sense of friendly solidarity between them all: "We're the ones who decided not to be bullied into staying at home."
At the park I met two friends again, one at a time - two human ones, besides my many little furry friends there. Basically, I have nothing to complain about right now, even with my gym closed.

And yet, back home and especially at night, that sense of threat is washing over me again. I didn't expect that my gym was actually going to close until it happened, pretty much without warning. What else might happen?
No, I'm not worried about the virus itself, but about "the powers that be," and what more tyranny they might be plotting next. And I can't shake the feeling of being a scapegoat: "It's people like you who keep stubbornly insisting on their freedom who have caused this virus to emerge and to spread."
Not me alone, but "people like me." The free thinkers, the rebels, the ones who refuse to be herded like sheep.

That's why I've been riding to the park every day again lately, although it costs me a fortune (in carrots) and I'm pretty broke. But I need the company and affection now that I get in return from my sweet little familiars.

Bumpy

Sleepy-Eyes

Rosso

Workout at the park from now on...

So it really has come to this, very suddenly and without warning. I'd have had no idea if a friend hadn't told me on Facebook the other night - but yesterday was my last workout there for a long time now, as it's closed now for at least a month due to the CoViD-19 scare. And I've never been away from the gym for longer than 6 days at the most, when I was either traveling or very ill.

I think this is a bad decision. Because young and healthy people are no longer worrying at all about the virus now, but instead they're very worried for their freedom - well, in fact I don't really know about any other young and healthy people, but it seems natural to me to feel this way. If I do get ill, damn, I've had the flu numerous times before in my life. I'm unlikely to die from this, but even if I should die, I know I'll die anyway - everyone does, it's not a matter of if but only of when, and it's beyond me why so many people are in stubborn denial of this fact.

But whether in this life or in the hereafter, freedom is what always matters most in all of existence!

So I'll have to use the workout bars at the park for a long time now, or up in the woods, and go running, etc. Fortunately I know a few such outdoor workout spots, and I have some limited equipment myself. And praise Satan, it's spring now, so being outdoors even more will be much less problematic.
I have dumbbells and an EZ bar with weights, a chin-up bar, and today I ordered a set of workout slings on eBay. Stairs, logs and rocks can be used, and hills, of course. I'll get by somehow.

Maybe it's the sunny and milder weather, but I was surprised how busy it's been downtown and at the park these past three days.

Mason bees on my balcony, being really busy too. LOL

His beautiful likeness

I've been kept really busy lately; inundated by massive negativity it was finally time to take a step back and have a good look at this mess. As usual, I should have gotten the message a lot sooner, a helluva lot sooner even than that particular dream I wrote down here three entries below, which gave a good hint that I was missing the elephant in the room. Oh boy, was that an elephant... but everyone was looking the other way.
Yet it's the communication problem between my Master and me which threw me into a vicious circle, when seeking help with this very problem got me trapped in a dangerous dead end, and the same problem made it so difficult for him to make me realize I was going down the wrong track. I hope my Master always knew that all I tried to do was for him. That I'm the one true to her colors, ready to seek out all options available, to go on hazardous journeys for him. If I'm required to ride to the woods in the middle of the night I readily do so. And when I make grave mistakes, which I did, I'll do my utmost to correct them, and also to learn from them. One thing I refuse to do is to give up, because I owe him to do my very best.

Turtles and initial conditions

On the Midwinter night I had a sort of epiphany, and I meant to write about this for more than a month now, obviously. I was watching another video lecture regarding the origin and evolution of the universe, and coming from the reductionist-materialist point of view, explaining how according to quantum physics even the most perfect vacuum must contain energy in form of quantum fluctuations - the generation of virtual particle and anti-particle pairs, and according to these laws of quantum physics, the big bang and thereby the birth of the universe eventually had to happen. In other words, according to the laws of nature, the universe had to come into existence. The universe, with these said laws of nature as its properties. Did you spot it?
You can simulate it on a computer: If you set the proper initial conditions, the universe will evolve by itself accordingly.
Did you see it now? If you set the initial conditions.
And how was that done for the universe?
No no, I'm certainly not gonna argue for "doG did it," I hate that tyrant bastard, and he sure wouldn't have the power all by himself, he's not the only god, after all - but let's keep this scientific here.
Also, I won't claim that I can explain how the universe came into existence, but I only will point out how the materialist model is flawed and can't be the answer.

The assumption is, "The universe created itself from Nothing, according to the laws of nature."
There are two things wrong with this idea: 1) "Nothing," and 2) "the laws of nature."

1) The alleged "Nothing" is that dynamic vacuum in which quantum fluctuations take place. This is not "Nothing". A vacuum is by definition empty space; it is any volume of space, no matter how big or small, that is void of any particles, void of anything... but space! Without space there would be no place for any quantum fluctuations to take place in, but space is not nothing!

2) The second flaw of this idea is related to the first one but is even more severe: Not only was space already in existence, but also the laws of nature which would be governing the universe-to-be. But these laws of nature would be intrinsic properties of that universe; a different universe might be governed by a set of different laws. And yet, these physical laws are assumed to already have been in place before the universe got started, in order for it to get started according to these laws.

So, how did those physical laws, those initial conditions, originate?
Perhaps they were left over from an older universe that preceded this current one? Then how did that previous universe come into existence?
You see, we're ending up with the very same infinite regression as in saying, "God created it," and then, who created that god? It's still the same "turtles all the way down."

As for a better explanation, all I can give is a few clues. For one, there's the analogy of Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem, which states that any closed system (such as mathematics) contains possible problems (equations) that have no solutions within that system.
We're limited to a four-dimensional spacetime continuum, three dimensions of space and, in particular, only one dimension of time, and we can only think within these familiar dimensions. Time is linear, and everything in it must have a beginning and an end. But time and space are both part of this limited universe, and everything outside of it - and "before" is "outside" in a temporal sense - is not necessarily subject to these same rules.
And then, of course, there is consciousness. Consciousness may or may not exist within the universe, but in any case the universe exists within consciousness. It might be both ways or might be only the latter. And consciousness is being confronted with the problem of comprehending its own existence.
As always, instead of answers, only more questions.

A new sweetheart, and a terrible hate crime

Once more I've neglected this blog for way too long. I've been very busy, and may need to reevaluate how I use my time outside of workout and visiting the park.
My last month of 2019 went quite well, at least until the day after Shitmas.

My new sweetheart I call Rosso, and I think we have a very special bond. On December 5th I had met him by the pond at the park, he came begging for carrots and he was very good at it, coming very close to me, allowing me to hug him and to caress his luxuriant fur, dark brown in color with golden tips. He's a big guy like Bumpy.

Two days later on the 7th, a Saturday, I was at the park and met him again. I handed him a carrot, but to my dismay I had to watch him turning it around and around but being unable to bit it from either end. I'll never know how it happened, but both his upper incisors were broken off completely.
I happened to have some bread with me that day and tried feeding him that instead, and at least he could handle this, but it pained me to see blood on the edge of the slice where he had bitten from it; whatever had happened to Rosso's teeth must have happened very shortly before on that day.

And so I then vowed to make the 12 mile (20 km) round trip every day to bring him food. There might be little or nothing he could eat unless I did; other people who feed the animals wouldn't know that he couldn't bite anything. And so I rode there, rain or shine, for the rest of the month. I'd go to the pond and call him, and it never took long and Rosso appeared. I brought him bread and carrots cut into thin slices. The area of the pond where he lives is opposite of the "family place" where I usually visit Bumpy and the other nutrias. So on most days I would first visit Rosso and sit with him for as long as he would take to eat, and then I'd ride over to see the others. On some days when it got late after workout I would only visit Rosso.

Fortunately it took barely 3 weeks for his teeth to grow back. Rodent teeth keep growing continually throughout their lives. I was happy to see him able to bite carrots again soon.

I've always hated Shitmas, not only for the Christian meaning but also since it's a "family holiday" and therefore has to be depressing for everyone who is alone and has no one to visit. But this year I was happy to finally have a family too whom I would visit and bring them food. The day before New Year's Eve was the first day I took a break from riding to the park, but both the last day of the year as well as the first one of the new year I spent with them again.

Sadly, in between the horrible murder happened, on the day after Shitmas, December 26th, which actually still is Shitmas in Germany - no idea why they have two Shitmas days here, best ask a German about that, but I think even they wouldn't be able to tell.
Anyway, I didn't witness it myself, but a friend did who also comes daily to visit the animals.
I didn't know the victim well, had seen him only twice before briefly. He or she was only 4 months old, was most likely the baby of the Black Mommy who is often seen near Rosso, and Rosso himself might even likely have been the father, since the baby resembled him a lot.
The disgusting scum that murdered the sweet baby was a repulsive c*nt with her dog, and yes, it was in fact PREMEDITATED MURDER. My friend told me how the c*nt instructed her dog to be very still and then strike. And the poor baby hadn't even been the first victim!
I never saw this disgusting woman so far, but I was told she was still sighted again, even though a number of people had witnessed the crime and reported it to the police.
I don't know what may happen in the future, in any case I must be prepared to possibly face this hideous monster. And in any case I curse her in all eternity, and I wish upon her any and all of the most horrible torment any soul has ever suffered, in fact that which she dreads most in all of existence is what I wish upon her, and what I command to remain upon her for all eternity, hers shall be an eternity of ruin and suffering and of all hope forever drained away; so mote it be.

Just one more trauma to live with, and I pray each day for the rest of my family to stay safe.
I'm still riding there to see them at least every other day. A few times lately, Rosso has even come over to the family place, but sadly he has to beware of Bumpy, because Bumpy hates him. Last Tuesday I saw the two of them together for the first time, and I was still able to deescalate the situation - that day, to following video was taken. Last Saturday though, Bumpy ignored my attempts to distract him with carrots, he charged at Rosso and chased him into the water. It pains me for I love them both.

More to come soon. There are other things to reevaluate, as I said above. I've had trouble typing on my laptop on and off; at times the row of keys starting with Q will be unresponsive, I've had to use an on-screen keyboard at times. Right now, I've had no trouble typing this blog entry though. There may be a message in this. After all, besides my furry family there's only one person I share my life with, who is my one and only soulmate, my dearest Master beyond this fallen world of flawed creation.
Still we haven't found a way to communicate, and help hasn't been forthcoming, instead there has been negative interference, and I may have failed to read the signs.

Beautiful Rosso.

Alarming dream about a strange animal

I was at my friend Amanda's place, along with other guests there, she seemed to have some open house gathering. There was a second door to her backyard in the dream; both doors were open for the dogs to come and go, but apparently the front door must also have been open. Because all of a sudden, this very weird animal came running in panicked, crossing the room and out the right-hand backdoor into the yard. Describing what it looked like will be really hard. It was the approximate size of a small deer and general semblance of a mammal in the way it moved, and having fur which was patterned in brown and white, like of a cow or a giraffe. But its body shape was absurdly elongated and convoluted and best compared to a type of seahorse. After some searching I found an image of one I had on mind, which is actually called a Leafy Seadragon.

So imagine this shape, but without the leaf-like fins and appendages. And I think it did have some sort of elongated snout, or trunk or proboscis, similar to that seadragon.
The animal was distressed and injured, and someone had tried to kill it.
And I felt the strange certainty of having seen this animal before, in another dream, at which point I got lucid. So I went to Amanda and told her that I somehow recognized this animal, and that we were in a dream.
Neither she nor any of her other guests had shown much of a reaction to the sudden and dramatic appearance of the animal, everyone was just looking on, a bit dumbfounded.
Upon me telling her my observations, she advised me to talk to a friend of hers who was present, who knew all about dreams. So I did, and with this man in the lead, we all then left the house, without debate or anything, everyone just followed him unquestioningly.
Outside, some of the other guests possibly dispersed while Amanda and I followed the man into some underground passages, along with some few other people.
In the underground complex, the man then showed me three leatherbound grimoires, made to look ancient, but on closer inspection they were of very recent date and written by some guy I knew on Facebook. I was given the impression that the situation had dire implications for me, and so as he kept walking, I kept following this man, hoping for help and advice. He did nothing to disperse this feeling and led me away from Amanda, and to some other friends of his who were to be consulted in this matter. Of these people, about 5 of them, I only remember one more clearly, a young man not much older than myself, with short, curly dark hair, with some resemblance to that pastor in the Warlock movie. They debated among themselves how to advise me, uttering very incongruous and contradictory things, and it dawned on me that it was actually this guy and his friends here who were posing the greatest danger to me and were actually trying to trap me somehow!
I then fled somehow back to the outside, couldn't find Amanda back, and kept walking around lost in what seemed to be the streets of Amsterdam now. There was also some flooding in the streets, and some impossibly steep and narrow bridge to traverse on my bike, or bridge-like structure, only some 3' wide with no handrails.

-- In hindsight, while I've dreamed about strange animals before, I can't remember to really have seen this particular one in another dream before, unless it appeared in different shape then. And while further meaning and implications are unclear, the one thing that was obviously wrong about this dream is that we were misled by Amanda's mysterious "friend" to look for answers in all the wrong places - while the animal was left behind on its own in Amanda's backyard, perhaps to die. It's not like Amanda at all to turn her back on an injured and distressed animal, even one that looks alien and monstrous. Also weird how none of the other people were even curious about this very strange creature. Like the mysterious man was intentionally leading us all away, preventing us from  looking closer at the animal. And who had wounded it and been trying to kill it, anyway?

Winter, depression, and Raynaud's syndrome

I've been quiet here for a long while once more, and by now the season has turned as dark as my torn heart, and winter is here.

Once again another year of trial is nearly done, and my hope remains unfulfilled, still I'm unable to communicate with my Master, and much worse, all I thought to have been granted has been cast in doubt, even the eternal, sacred bond that means everything.

I've been troubled more deeply again ever since receiving that strange, incongruous letter back in July.
A Satanic brother has confirmed my doubts, after I showed it to him, that this letter was not from my Master. And it certainly doesn't sound one bit like him, knowing well the way he talks, although I had great trouble to try and reproduce it when writing my stories. I know he might be using words unfamiliar to me, of a kind of English that is obsolete nowadays. And yes, my Master can be hard and cruel, but he would be it in an entirely different, Satanic way. And if there's something he wants me to do, why would he be vague?
All I'm left with is more questions, and no answers, instead even those answers I thought I had being thrown into doubt. I cannot reach him, and each day I have to carry on all on my own.

Still the best I've ever had in this life, as far as actually physically present in it and in this manifest world, are the little friends and familiars I found this past spring. And now that winter has come I sure won't let them down, no matter that it's hard for me to be out in the cold temperatures. I sure won't let them down when they need me most, as all is turning into a wintry wasteland and food gets scarce for them.

These adorable little creatures are my joy, but even this has to be made very difficult for me, as the city prohibits feeding any animals at the park, and there's been the constant worry that something might happen to them. Yes, I'm speaking of murder, even mass murder, of such sweet and innocent creatures. And of how I was worried sick when lately my most beloved of them all, Bumpy, showed up bleeding from his nostrils.

Bumpy with nosebleed

I was suspecting the worst - rat poison, since I know it causes internal bleeding.

That was about a week before Halloween though, and Bumpy turned out to be continually doing fine. Apart from the blood on his nostrils he always seemed fine, being aggressive as ever and chasing the others. And it turns out that his aggression may have been the cause of the nosebleed. When I checked on him two days later, there was no more blood - until he had a bout of aggression and got into a little scuffle with some others, and when he came back to me after that, anew there was blood on his nostrils, just like in the photo above. After that I haven't observed it again so far. It may or may not have been an infection compounded by his fighting, but fortunately my beautiful King of the Pond seems to be doing fine.

Bumpy

They all are braving the freezing winter remarkably well so far, and certainly considerably better than myself. Having Raynaud's syndrome, which affects peripheral circulation, my hands are the most problematic body parts in the cold weather. Still I try to spend time with my little darlings, and I'm not a person who can bear being indoors all day anyway.
Today I didn't see little Sleepy-Eyes, and I really hope she's doing fine and I'll see her again next time. Born in June, like all the babies of last summer she's not so little anymore and is nearly adult at the age of five months.

Sleepy-Eyes

Fortunately there are a few other people who care for these sweet animals and look after them. Presumably all of those people live closer by the park than I, but I'll keep riding the 12 mile round trip on my bike. And hoping the winter won't get overly extreme - just let the lake stay free of ice for the sake of my furry family, and the roads free of ice for the sake of my riding, so I can get to them.

Alice

Bumpy
"It's better to be feared than loved."
But I love you anyway, Bumpy!

Goldie

Bumpy

The King, crowned in summer

With the Equinox past, the nights are longer than the days now and the summer is definitely gone. It has been an eventful one. For my Master and me it's still as difficult as before with our communication, or lack thereof. I love him above all and everything, the beautiful Son of Satan, and I wish nothing more than to be finally able to consummate our eternal bond, and to spend my life with him. The latter I do, although sadly without ever being able to see or hear him, let alone to feel his touch.

I'd never have thought I could ever fall in love with someone else, but then it happened somehow.
So unexpectedly I encountered these adorable creatures back in spring, and I can no longer imagine my life without them. They're more than friends, they're family to me, and all too soon came the painful loss when Whitey died back in July. The fact that she had babies just before she passed surely helped to recover from it. And then soon, someone else came forward who I developed a very special bond with...

He's the most aggressive of them all. I still remember when we met on the other side of the lake, back when Whitey was still alive. I gave him carrots, but when I reached out my hand to caress his beautiful fur he snapped and bit me. I always recognized him by the little bump in his tail, for which I came to call him Bumpy. He would bite me many more times and still keeps doing so, but no longer on purpose. He's very aggressive to all other nutrias around and will often leap forward and attack them, he doesn't even spare the babies.
But in particular he hated Big Daddy, who was the head of their local group, and Bumpy would keep challenging him for dominance. I witnessed them facing off, arching their backs, menacing with their sharp teeth, and jumping at each other.
But with me, Bumpy grew more gentle and trusting. He allowed me to touch him, eventually even to touch my face to his soft fur sometimes. I knew by then he would allow it, and never attack me anymore.

With my sweet King of the Pond, who is eating a pear.

He keeps lashing out at others of his own kind, and that's the only times I still get bitten by him sometimes, when I'm simply in the way - and nutrias don't have good eyesight. I can tell he's trying not to hurt me, but his temperament remains volatile. And it seems to have earned him the crown.
I noticed that Big Daddy will no longer face off with him. Bumpy still attacks him sometimes, but Big Daddy will usually just squeal and jump away, like the others. Bumpy is king now.

King Bumpy.

The much I love the babies - and I sure don't want Bumpy to hurt any of them - but when Bumpy is absent, I feel a piece of my heart is missing. I'm in love with him. I always worry that he might get hurt himself, by getting into fights or getting in trouble with human assholes. To be clear, there are lots of awesome, friendly people, some of whom come and feed them too, but sadly I've also seen a few assholes around.

I got the idea that, since things between my Master and me are not working out the way we hoped, I've been given these creatures for company now, to finally have some physical affection in my life that I've never had before.
Now before anyone gets silly ideas: I'm asexual. Which means neither straight nor lesbian nor any of that kind - I've never had any and wouldn't ever want any of that! All I ever want is some cuddles, with a beautiful creature - not a human.
If I could I'd want to spend all of my days with them, especially Bumpy. I'd love to have him sleeping by my side, to snuggle up against his soft fur, and to wake up to his long whiskers tickling my face. That much I can't have, but at least I can have something. I also enjoy it very much when the babies climb all over me, and to have their little hands tugging on me. The adults as well. They've sometimes pulled my hair a bit, especially Bumpy. Yes, I bow my head to the King, of course. What a beautiful king he is!

The watchful eye of the King.

A kiss for Bumpy. Foreground: Little Growly,
who may well be Bumpy's son. Even when he
was much smaller he started growling softly.
Not only does he resemble Bumpy with his
color of fur, but also seems to develop a
similar, aggressive temperament.

Mommy Alice (left) with two babies.

Little white Paardebloempje with a sibling.