I Am a Runaway Slave
I knew something was wrong my entire life. Through a process of painful awakenings in my late 20s and early 30s after swallowing a jagged little Red Pill, I realized I was a slave. A slave living in a Gilded Cage. Living in a culture of death as so brilliantly described by Rookh Kshatriya:
The true Anglo-American ontological ‘self’ seems to have a very pronounced alignment to Thanatos – in some respects, it seems hostile to life itself. And maybe religious puritanism did mask this for a time. Consider the Anglosphere’s unstinting support for sexual deviance of all kinds – the LGBTXYZ brigade are worshipped in this culture – yet prostitution, PUA culture, sex tourism and other forms of heterosexual activity are viewed as evils to be prohibited. Is this tendency somehow linked to the fact that only heterosexual activity can beget life, which Anglo culture subconsciously detests? The Anglo female’s unholy appetite for abortion also seems to reflect this ‘culture of death’ that increasingly defines the Anglo-American world.
However, how and why did such a dysfunctional and self-destructive mindset ever evolve, either culturally or biologically? Perhaps patriarchal religious puritanism was the limiting factor, as you suggest: and when feminist secular puritanism supplanted religion, it unleashed this self-destructive love of death in all its forms. I recall the Pope suggesting that the United States was presently gripped by a culture of death. However, it is difficult to determine how and why such a barren, nihilistic instinct ever arose on such a mass scale in the first place.
Indeed, it is a hateful place to the freethinking man. His entire life script already planned out for him by social engineers tainted with their worship of this culture of death, and devising various, new means and ways to make their prison of the mind an invisible, vivisecting prison of the body and soul, as well.
I had been cast into debt peonage by America’s great system – the same system it tries to sell, nay force upon the world as some sort of shining light on a hill. I was told buying things was my ticket to happiness. But endless consumption of material goods and ersatz food left me financially and physically obese. (I’ve since lost the financial and physical fat after abandoning Anglo culture for a culture that celebrates life – Latin culture.)
I had everything I ever wanted materially, everything I was supposed to have. From the outside, I looked like a huge success. The Up By the Bootstraps guy, who clawed his way out of poverty to become an Emmy-award winning “TV star” on the news. But only I knew the emptiness of it all, as I had to see my life from the inside and everyone else only saw it from the outside.
Having been in the throes of financial bondage caused by this system my entire life, from my impoverished upbringing to clawing my way into a middle class existence across 20+ years of labor only to wind up with nothing to show for it except half a lifetime of exploitation, I now see this system as nothing more than a rigged game. The only way to win is not to play. I’ve done the math. There’s simply no way to win. It’s a system designed to catch men in the cogs of cyclical consumption, and never let them out of the gears. To have them spend half a century spending money they don’t have, on things they don’t need, to impress people they don’t like.
“You win the consumption award! Yay!”
What the fuck? The insanity of dehumanizing a man in this manner is not acceptable for a free spirit, and someone who can’t blindly follow orders just to meet a mandate. Everyone benefited from this existence except me. Some days, I literally wanted to die. I thought, “Seriously, is this the best it gets? It can’t be. I’m so miserable.” I couldn’t take having all the hours of my life controlled and exploited by it any longer as it doled out little material rewards and endless “upgrades” for my participation. Two to three weeks a year to do what I wanted to do was just not enough, as they told me how “lucky” I was to have paid vacation. What?
Making matters worse, women in Anglo America are terrible. There’s just no other way to describe it. Having been to nearly all 50 states, every major city, and having walked among the high and low castes of society I can assure you they’re terrible everywhere. Fat as horses. Entitled. Demanding. Bitchy. Arrogant. Condescending. Women who consider themselves the holders of the sacred pink anatomy. Tattoos on their bodies and their souls. Whether or not they have tats, as a man, in their eyes you are nothing but an expendable creature that thinks with its cock.
“Better entertain me and let me financially exploit you if you want to even have a chance of winning the sexual lottery and convincing me to let you sample this pale tail.” That’s their attitude towards men.
All this had to change. And it did. But not without a total lifestyle redesign.
How did I escape a life on the plantation?
First, I clawed my way out of debt, since my thirst for their money to make endless payments was what was enslaving me in the first place. Second, I saved money like mad. Third, I finally got the balls to figuratively tell my employer to go fuck himself after my workweek increased to 50-60 hours as “the new norm” (says who motherfuckers?) and they trotted in a big titty bitch as my replacement in waiting, just waiting until the end of my contract to replace me On The Air.
I wasn’t going to be treated like this by this system anymore. Played games with. Dealt impossible hands at the poker table. Treated like a villain for being a man. Left to pick up the pieces and clean up the ashes when spreadsheet man decided this human resource was costing too much money. I became a runaway slave from the corporate plantation.
And I’m running as hard as I can, like a gazelle trying to escape a predator as I take in experiences in life I was never supposed to have, all my days planned out for me from the time I entered kindergarten to the time I finished college to the time the system figures I’d no longer be profitable for it, and discards me with a joke of a 401k just before I die.
I am not wasting time. I am nourishing my soul for the first time in my entire life. I am running my ass off to live as much life as I can. Sweet freedom! I had a lot of pent-up energy when I decided to become a runaway slave. Besides teaching myself how to drive a motorcycle, and loving it, in the past 18 months since I left the corporate plantation I have:
- Lived abroad for a full year, without a doubt the best year of my entire life
- Learned how to drive a big rig
- Been to 47 states and counting
- Visited every major city in the United States
- Spent a full month in SE Asia
- Drank and smoked cigars
- Tried cocaine (and didn’t get addicted)
- Smoked marijuana (and didn’t get addicted)
- Repeatedly banged one of my favorite dark-skinned women while high on coke – this ranks as one of the top experiences in my entire life
- Been to the Bunny Ranch in Nevada
- Been to Boystown in Mexico
- Been to Walking Street in Thailand
- Banged dozens of non-pro chicks – Latina, Asian, and black (it’s a personal preference, but white chicks just don’t do anything for me anymore…it’s their arrogance, frigidity, and bland features)
- Started this blog, which has now reached 1 million hits
- Published two eBooks featuring compilations of my articles as a trial…have now decided to write some originals
- Polished my Spanish skills even further
- Started working on a third language
- Written daily
- Lived minimalistically, having designed a rich lifestyle in which the average man can live like a rock star for less than $20,000 a year (will be detailed in coming blog articles and a book)
- Am anxiously awaiting to run off the plantation this fall and live another exciting, personally fulfilling 6 months, year, or two years abroad
And I’m just getting started. Believe me, the more mountains I climb, the more confidence I have in myself and my message. The more risks I take, the more exciting my life becomes. I was numb and in misery my entire life up until I decided to walk away from everything I knew…life as another college-educated farm animal lost in endless hierarchies in corporate America.
I’m not just doing this for myself. I’m doing it for all you guys out there who know you’re getting fucked but don’t know what to do about it. I’m running as hard as I can, for there’s nothing I fear more than being captured, and forced to return to the plantation. I literally have nightmares about it sometimes. I know I’m not doing anything wrong, but I know men like me are not supposed to be living this well and a culture that hates men will stop at nothing to take it all away from me. I think I’d rather be executed than live that servile existence again, bereft of passion, imagination, control, creativity, and joy.
I feel alive for the first time in my entire life. I’m running towards the symphonies in life and away from the darkness of the mainstream media that sucked the life out of my soul for so many years.
More to come. I’m going skydiving soon.
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