Religious oppression is real. So is oppression for being black, poor, informed, gay, or a cannabis user.
It can be rough.
I feel oppression from authority. It’s sad. We could be allies, otherwise.
I feel oppression from my family. I love them, but it ain’t worth getting beat up, arrested, or killed.
I feel oppression from religion. As a follower of The Way, Israel tells me cannabis is kosher. Many protestant branches here in Texas have a blind respect for authority on the issue of medical decisions, which is weird, and not really found out West, or in Scripture. Of course, not only do they try to tell you about “Jesus” (His real name is “Yeshua”) but they usually insist that you assimilate to their way of life. This is a form of religious persecution and many protestants have done some grave damage by not keeping the Gospel to the essential doctrines. They should actually read what they say they believe, rather than just listening to a preacher or teacher. This is what the Bereans did to Paul, and he praised them for it.
I feel oppression from the uninformed. Many people don’t bother to learn anything anymore. How does one live life like that? Are you not curious? Are you not educated? How do you turn your brain off? I can’t do it. My brain is always flying 100 mph in 1,000 different directions. Some say it’s part of being an artist. I don’t doubt it.
I feel oppression from my medical conditions. Not only the condition itself, but the way people feel they should treat me because of the conditions, especially my mental ones. This is especially true of family, since I see them day in and day out. I don’t think they do it maliciously, but it is still oppression, nonetheless.
I have been spending alot of time alone lately, and it has been good. I have been reading, tinkering, playing music too loud, playing guitar too loud, and doing hood rat shit with my friends. Right now, I wouldn’t have it any differently, and I feel very conflicted about this. However, when one feels oppression, a natural reaction is to run away and/or fight. That’s what I am doing. I wasn’t looking for a war, but a war found me.
I’m not afraid.
I have received training from many avenues with regard to war and security. No single person or entity, including my own family or our government has taught me everything I know. I share this openly. I don’t care. My hands have mastered the ways of war, and for this, I make no apology.
What does this have to do with oppression?
When people are oppressed long enough, they fight back. At first, it’s just through intel and cooperation. However, I and many of my friends are not afraid to defend ourselves from any threat — foreign [or] domestic.
After all, this IS Texas.
Wagen, over and out.