Vincent Miller
New member
- Joined
- Feb 4, 2014
- Messages
- 2
Hello, my name is Vincent. I'm a 19 year old from a small town, which
I will keep anonymous due to the heavy monitoring I'm sure this place
would be known to receive by the Neo-Christian paradigm.
I've grown up in a very open-minded household. My parent's never
pushed any kind of ideals about religion on me; never proliferated any
kind of theologian banter. My mother is a spiritualist pagan of no
actual denomination or title, and my father, I'm not so sure. He's
more of the: "I don't really care what's out there," type. I dabbled
in Christianity at a young age, but constantly found inconsistencies,
and pointed them out in open public, which at the time, my mother
seemed to shun because she knew how this small town is, and didn't
want my open-mindedness causing me problems, but I came to find out
when I got older that she was actually extremely proud of me, because
I, no older than eleven or twelve, had broken the intellectual barrier
between crestfallen blind faith and analytical, open-minded,
intellectual thought and logistic reason. I never once denied the fact
that I wasn't a Christian; and at first, people seemed afraid of me.
And then High-school came, and I knew they were.
But, like the simple-minded tend to be; the fear made them brave.
Like, if they picked on the "dark" kid, and I hurt them, perhaps it
would be some form of martyrdom for whatever plastic form of religious
venom that might be pumping through their worthless veins. Keep in
mind; at this point, I wasn't interested in Satanism as truth, merely
Satanism as a form of research, and guiltily enough, sometimes
hilarity. Especially at LaVeyan Satanists, wearing their stupid
plastic horns and waving cheap Wal-Mart props in people's faces like a
two-bit sideshow at Barnum & Bailey's.
One day, about year twelve; I was walking home from school because I
could not afford an automobile, and a blue Chevrolet truck I
recognized to be one of the chief football players' at my small-town
high school pull into a parking lot in a franchised eatery on the
corner of the block I was crossing. Out from it, shot three athletes,
who muscularly, were larger than I. This was my first contact with the
Father, whom we refer to as Lucifer. I remember being flooded with
fear, initially; because I could sense what they were after. Suddenly,
I remember feeling a presence unlike any I'd ever felt before; and
wouldn't feel again until much later. I seemed as if my very vision
had changed. All I saw was a red color around the three as they
approached me; this all happened in an instant but it felt like
eternity. My fear drained from me; and instead a bestial wrath was
imbued in my psyche. As if some puppet-master were working my strings,
I started forward to meet the three; gnashing and bearing my teeth,
dripping with saliva at this new-found rage I felt towards my
assailants. I only had to harm one; the owner of the truck, and it
took but one well-placed punch; directly to the sternum. I glared at
the other two, shaking with rage. I felt powerful, I felt dangerous,
but I still felt lawfully obligated to give them a chance to redeem
their selves; especially since I hadn't caused prolonged injury to
their friend. I simply pointed at him with my left hand, shaking as if
I were struck with Parkinson's. With all the careful unwillingness
someone walking through a mine-field might construe, they quietly took
their friend up by the arms and pulled him into his truck, and drove
away. At that moment, when the propensity for danger had fallen, I
suddenly felt cold; empty. Like I had something, but lost it. I wasn't
sure what had just happened, and I was afraid. I was seventeen.
When I was 18, I discovered Joys of Satan Ministries, and what they
were saying made sense, BUT; I never decided to dedicate my life to
the Father, Lucifer until just recently because prior to now, I wasn't
mentally or physically prepared for that glorious journey.
But Jesus Christ, (no pun intended) I'm ready now. I'm finally ready
to repay our Lord for that strength he imbued my on that fateful day.
(April, 9th - 2007 to be exact.)
I will keep anonymous due to the heavy monitoring I'm sure this place
would be known to receive by the Neo-Christian paradigm.
I've grown up in a very open-minded household. My parent's never
pushed any kind of ideals about religion on me; never proliferated any
kind of theologian banter. My mother is a spiritualist pagan of no
actual denomination or title, and my father, I'm not so sure. He's
more of the: "I don't really care what's out there," type. I dabbled
in Christianity at a young age, but constantly found inconsistencies,
and pointed them out in open public, which at the time, my mother
seemed to shun because she knew how this small town is, and didn't
want my open-mindedness causing me problems, but I came to find out
when I got older that she was actually extremely proud of me, because
I, no older than eleven or twelve, had broken the intellectual barrier
between crestfallen blind faith and analytical, open-minded,
intellectual thought and logistic reason. I never once denied the fact
that I wasn't a Christian; and at first, people seemed afraid of me.
And then High-school came, and I knew they were.
But, like the simple-minded tend to be; the fear made them brave.
Like, if they picked on the "dark" kid, and I hurt them, perhaps it
would be some form of martyrdom for whatever plastic form of religious
venom that might be pumping through their worthless veins. Keep in
mind; at this point, I wasn't interested in Satanism as truth, merely
Satanism as a form of research, and guiltily enough, sometimes
hilarity. Especially at LaVeyan Satanists, wearing their stupid
plastic horns and waving cheap Wal-Mart props in people's faces like a
two-bit sideshow at Barnum & Bailey's.
One day, about year twelve; I was walking home from school because I
could not afford an automobile, and a blue Chevrolet truck I
recognized to be one of the chief football players' at my small-town
high school pull into a parking lot in a franchised eatery on the
corner of the block I was crossing. Out from it, shot three athletes,
who muscularly, were larger than I. This was my first contact with the
Father, whom we refer to as Lucifer. I remember being flooded with
fear, initially; because I could sense what they were after. Suddenly,
I remember feeling a presence unlike any I'd ever felt before; and
wouldn't feel again until much later. I seemed as if my very vision
had changed. All I saw was a red color around the three as they
approached me; this all happened in an instant but it felt like
eternity. My fear drained from me; and instead a bestial wrath was
imbued in my psyche. As if some puppet-master were working my strings,
I started forward to meet the three; gnashing and bearing my teeth,
dripping with saliva at this new-found rage I felt towards my
assailants. I only had to harm one; the owner of the truck, and it
took but one well-placed punch; directly to the sternum. I glared at
the other two, shaking with rage. I felt powerful, I felt dangerous,
but I still felt lawfully obligated to give them a chance to redeem
their selves; especially since I hadn't caused prolonged injury to
their friend. I simply pointed at him with my left hand, shaking as if
I were struck with Parkinson's. With all the careful unwillingness
someone walking through a mine-field might construe, they quietly took
their friend up by the arms and pulled him into his truck, and drove
away. At that moment, when the propensity for danger had fallen, I
suddenly felt cold; empty. Like I had something, but lost it. I wasn't
sure what had just happened, and I was afraid. I was seventeen.
When I was 18, I discovered Joys of Satan Ministries, and what they
were saying made sense, BUT; I never decided to dedicate my life to
the Father, Lucifer until just recently because prior to now, I wasn't
mentally or physically prepared for that glorious journey.
But Jesus Christ, (no pun intended) I'm ready now. I'm finally ready
to repay our Lord for that strength he imbued my on that fateful day.
(April, 9th - 2007 to be exact.)
![Blitzkreig [JG]](/data/avatars/s/21/21286.jpg?1704756304){kind=avatar}
