Forever Wrong Upon The Throne

It is late.
The time is somewhere between the witching hour and when the devil stalks the land yet the pull of slumber has yet to be felt. The darkness envelopes me with only the silver burnish of moonlight to pick out the objects around me and ensure they retain some familiarity.
It is cold but I do not object, content to sit with the window open and allow the night air to infiltrate my domain. The cold touch of the darkness soothes me and a calm has settled upon my person. I am sat, alone, yet I have no concerns, for the day has proved fruitful, as always, in my quest for fuel. Although not sated I am neither in desperate need nor bloated from my repeated extractions.
There is room for more, there is always room for more but I do not feel that driving need to acquire more. Instead the stillness and the calm engulf me as I sit here and look out from my elevated situation, through the wide open window and across the garden and the fields beyond.
My still alert eyes detect no movement of beast nor breeze. The trees still as if in silent salute. The birds that so often fly past are nested for the night and in the distance the intermittent hoot of an owl is a reminder that although I am sat alone there is still something out there. It is at times like this, when the freneticism has subsided, the hurly burly of the day’s cut and thrust has given way to this rare and unusual state that I remember.
My gaze remains steady as I look out across those undulating fields, fields so similar to the ones that we used to run through didn’t we? Where are you? Where are you now?
Why are you not sat beside me, king and queen like we used to when we planned our lives all that times ago? You must forgive me. I have not thought of you as often or as deeply as I ought to have done but I have been about other things.
I know you understand. I know you recognise that the demands made upon me would be beyond others and that I must attend to those demands. I know that you realise that to dwell too often would leave me weakened and that must not happen but moments such as these, when I find myself feeling freed of my burden then I am able to reach out to you, wherever you may be.
Although I do not often permit it, you remain etched into my memory and I know with the certainty that the world will not stop spinning, that you will always reside in my memory. Yet, I must confess, that is not enough. Should a moment or an instance bring to the surface an element of our past I am bound to push it away, cast it deep into the recesses of my mind and place it behind bolted door and fearsome gate.
There is not hope for me to do anything else, for to indulge in recollection at such times would distract me too greatly from my endeavours. I know I ought not to do it but I must do so. For such moments I am moved to seek your forgiveness from your benevolent self in the full knowledge that I am told that I deserve none.
It is now when I sit on this chair and besides yours, ‘our thrones’ as we once called them, that I am able to allow your memory to consume me. I reach out with my hand and expect that somehow I will feel your cool hand slide into mine just one more time yet there is nothing.
Just that absence that has remained constant no matter how hard I labour to fill it. We would sit side by side wouldn’t we and look out across those fields through which we ran to our secret places, those sanctuaries and idylls dotted throughout our kingdom?
We issued our declarations as one, formulated our ordinances of governance for the betterment of our subjects and did so with great gladness. Do I miss doing so together or have I just been conditioned to believe that I miss it?
Where are you? Why will you only show yourself as memory ? Why will you not come back to me ? You could do so, even if as a shade to haunt me as I sit amidst this encompassing darkness. Do you remain distant from me to punish , joining the legions of the traitorous? Have they turned you against me? Perhaps you do and I am told that such punishment is only right for one such as I.
I know myself for what I am and I seek to purge that which grips me each and every day through the frenzied application to my endeavours in the hope that they will allow me to be granted absolution and you will return. I swear, I swear by all that I am, I would accept these labours at a tenfold if only to see you once again, hear your voice and look upon you as you take my hand as you always did. We joined as one and we were better for it were we not? Come back to me? Return. Sit beside me once again and let us find that which we once had and should always have.
I sit in the darkness as I say these thoughts aloud, my low and steady voice seeming distant and disembodied. I pause and wait expecting you to answer but there is no response.
Come back to me because for all that I have done and for all that I am about to do, without you I will sit forever wrong upon the throne.
And I must be right.



BBC Nes report (today)
“The witches of Dumbarton, tortured, executed and falsely accused”
made for an interesting read……
how many of them were Empaths?
My Dearest HG, how beautifully you write.
As I read this, it evoked a number of different emotions, thoughts about the life of a narcissist, empty, void of any real meaning/emotion, an empty vessel. I understand that you would not see it in the same way, but the less evolved narcissist, it appears to me, only exist.
I thought back… Barnacles can do a variety of things to crabs, from harmlessly attaching to a shell to being a destructive parasite that controls the crab’s body and behaviour. The narc that I was with was a Mr Barnacle, quite apt really.
I am sat, alone, yet I have no concerns… I took two meanings from this, my first was isolated but then thought content.
He lived alone and appeared isolated from the world but always seemed content, how I wished I knew all of those years ago about your work, HG.
There is room for more, there is always room for more… ah, not so content then.
Although I do not often permit it, you remain etched in my memory… we are all individuals and deal with things differently, although in my opinion, it is more advantageous to hold some memories deep where they cannot be accessed easily.
When my husband was killed a good friend told me that grief is like a piece of string, different lengths for different people. Any loss, whether it is by death or other circumstances, regardless of who initiated the separation can cause pain and discomfort at times, so with this sentence I see that we are not so different at all, just different drivers.
Joining legions of the traitorous… not everyone is ‘out to get you’, oh the paranoia of a narcissist.
I always try my best to be good and kind to everyone that I come into contact with, to treat them in the way that I would like to be treated myself. Life is difficult enough, we shouldn’t cause unnecessary suffering or stress to others, we can never see into someone else’s life and what they are having to deal with privately. It saddens me to think of anyone who has the feeling of sadness, betrayal or loneliness.
Thank you, HG, this was a very thought provoking piece of writing for me, one that brought memories back which I should have restrained deep within myself or even banished completely.
I appreciate all the work you do and support you provide, HG ❤️
Carole, your kindness shines through, thank you for the Light:).
😔
Freedom only comes through truth, and truth demands surrender. You speak of the night, the emptiness, the memory of what once was , but healing doesn’t live in the shadows of remembrance or power; it begins when the soul finally stops striving to control what it cannot.
You say you sit alone, haunted by what’s gone and chained by what still grips you. Yet freedom isn’t found in revisiting the past or filling the void, it’s found when you face the truth of who you’ve become and release it into the hands of something greater. Control creates illusion; surrender restores reality.
True freedom is not in the throne or the memory beside it, it’s in the breaking of self-will. It’s when a person stops reaching outward for validation and turns inward toward truth. That’s where healing begins, in the willingness to lay everything down.
“For you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32, ESV). But that freedom only comes when you’re ready to surrender your will to the One who created you — not for fuel, but for life.
Beth, you clearly don’t read what HG writes. You don’t even TRY to understand what he writes about. You just talk to yourself over and over and over, preaching the same sickening shite, whenever you pop up.
What the F is this: “True freedom is not in the throne or the memory beside it, it’s in the breaking of self-will.” — WTF!!!!
And this: “Freedom only comes through truth, and truth demands surrender.”
Again — fucking READ the truth HG has been writing about this whole time. Fucking just read.
And this: “But that freedom only comes when you’re ready to surrender your will to the One who created you — not for fuel, but for life.”
Surrender your arse. The One who created HG already gave him everything he needed — all the freedom and the ability to tell the truth.
You talk about freedom while preaching the breaking of self-will in the very same sentence. You’re mental.
Jordy,
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, whether you agree or not. Everyone figures things out at their own pace, in their own way, whether you like it or not. If this wasn’t an ad hominem attack from you, I don’t know what is. But, it showed much more who you are than who Beth is.
A Victor: the mind-fucked award goes to you!
I have no compassion for the vomit of people like you who hide from critical thinking behind their so-called empathy, using it to enable the cruelty of Beth’s religious sadism to pour into the minds of naive, religious individuals.
You spout: “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, whether you agree or not.” — yet you can’t grasp that that’s exactly what I’m doing here, just as you did. Whether I’m passionate about it or not is none of your fucking business if you can’t grasp the meaning behind it. I’m not aiming to make myself understandable to every arse on this platform.
“It showed much more of who I am”? Those who matter — those I care about — already know who I am. I’m an open book to them.
You’re not one of those who can read, however.
Lol, Jordy, I couldn’t care any less what you think of me. Keep up the good work, showing your true colors. Bye.
Jordy,
No one is saying you can’t express your opinion. Is it necessary for you to go on the attack though.
You could’ve picked apart Beth’s comment without attacking her.
You also didn’t have to say that AV couldn’t read.
You did the same thing to me, in your comment on the Elias thread. You didn’t need to say to me that I didn’t understand what was expressly written.
You like to unnecessarily add digs into your comments and sometimes your digs cross a line.
I agree with AV. The way you speak to people speaks volumes. I actually hope you attack me now. It’ll show people your true colors.
Hi HG, Jordy, A Victor, and dear participants,
Honestly, I wasn’t planning to write here again—at least not for a while.
Because I finally realized it would probably be better for me to take some distance. Otherwise, all of this turns into my uncontrollable, endless flow of outpourings and memories about my ex (who is no longer relevant at all).
Unfortunately, under the influence of triggers (and every text here, one way or another, becomes one for me), my emotional thinking starts to rise and… well, it begins.
I suppose it’s probably not that pleasant for people to read—and also not so easy for HG to moderate.
But something happened in my life today.
Let’s skip the details—no need for specifics (too long, and not the point).
What I do want is to express my enormous gratitude to HG for his work, for the fact that I once had the good fortune to discover it, and for the consultation (so far, just one) that truly supported me and gave me strength.
HG, thank you so much—from the bottom of my heart! 💖
Dear Jordy,
I read what you wrote in response to A Victor—and I was stunned.
I once said that this place feels just like real life, but I was wrong.
I simply can’t imagine anything like that happening in real life—unless, of course, we’re talking about some school or college group…
I can’t imagine you speaking to someone that rudely face-to-face.
Or is it that on the internet, anything goes?
(As I reread that, I realize I clearly have issues with the phrase “I can’t imagine”—and I’m already teasing myself: Come on, Josephine, imagine! Just imagine!)
Every person truly has the right to their own opinion.
But opinions can be expressed in a way that’s respectful toward other participants—in a constructive way, without insults, without getting personal, without pressure or imposition.
After all, this space is meant to discuss HG’s work, not to attack people personally.
Why even go there?
Each person understands HG’s writings in their own way—and, most importantly, has every right to do so.
If you’re doing this “for HG,” that’s strange, because I don’t think HG needs an advocate.
In fact, I really enjoyed reading HG’s early replies to participants—around 2015–2016. They were longer and, always—and I mean ALWAYS —written with the utmost respect toward others.
Even when someone attacked him, HG would simply respond (not verbatim): “Thank you for the fuel.”
So it seems you’re doing this not for him—but for yourself. Which, well, is understandable.
But as they say, “One’s freedom ends where another’s begins.”
Your words can hurt people.
And it feels as if this whole topic sometimes becomes a convenient excuse to lash out at someone—to start a conflict. That’s exactly the impression it gives.
To be clear, I’m not taking back a single word I’ve said about you before.
You really are a very interesting person.
Your posts here are like little works of art—fascinating to read.
It’s astonishing, really: sometimes it feels like they’re written by a refined, mature man—and then suddenly, by a charming little boy… one moment a philosopher, the next a scientist… such different tones, voices, moods. It’s genuinely captivating.
But your communication can be rather aggressive at times—not to say, offensive.
P.S. Let me put it differently, dear archer…
Please, don’t leave “scars” on our hearts—our hearts are already torn to shreds without your help.
Besides, you know—an arrow can ricochet.
P.S. №2
By the way, did you take that “archer” thing from The 10th Kingdom? 😄
As long as you can laugh about it, A Victor.
Your homework:
When AV tells the same joke twice, and nobody laughed the first time around — could it be considered an ad hominem attack on:
a) AV’s own intelligence?
b) the listeners’ intelligence?
c) or both?
My darling Josi in the sun!
Thank you for coming back and your beautiful thoughts and wisdom!
“I can’t imagine you speaking to someone that rudely face-to-face.”
Many times. Since I was young: to my asshole teachers, bullies, random people on the street who crossed the line and hurt the weaker. And don’t forget: I was trained to do it. I grew up in a theatre company where people speak their minds and aren’t afraid to do so.
If you could see through my eyes – if you could see what I see in Beth’s mindset – you’d understand why I take the bow and risk the storm of arrows in return.
The emphasis was, and remains, on the eradication of self-will: the demand to surrender to the almighty one whom only Beth and her kind have access to, and who decides who must surrender in order to be “saved.”
If you can imagine, love – or better yet, don’t – just look at the history of the Inquisition: the phrases, the mindset, the tactics, the actions used to “save” those who were rightfully on their own thrones. Those who refused to surrender their self-will were tortured and killed by the ones who had already broken theirs.
“But as they say, ‘One’s freedom ends where another’s begins.’”
It begins in the mind – where self-will is not broken.
Leigh,
The “digs” you mentioned, let me explain. Those aren’t digs, but displays of contempt toward individuals who encourage each other to remain victims. People who don’t want to change themselves but instead blame the narcissist for their own inability to do so. My contempt is for the display I encounter every time I return to the blog and see that nothing changes. The same life stories and experiences are repeated ad nauseam to every newly arrived participant, and the same victim mentality or ignorance prevails in many of the go-to phrases that get exchanged.
Often, the people involved in these dialogues clearly show they don’t want to change, so the exchanges stay superficial: a kind of mutual wound-licking, celebrating the fact of staying wounded, remaining bound to the “oak” for life. The Groundhog Day repeats itself.
Your last sentence to me – that you hope I’ll attack you so people can see my “true colors” – speaks volumes about your own fears. You want me to write something that will give you and your groupies a reason to dislike me, to gossip about, because it’s not empathetic enough for your concrete world of never-ending sorrow and accusation. All this despite understanding that the narcissist is also broken and destroyed – yet they at least possess a mechanism to move on, to seek light at the end of the tunnel in their own way. That, however, seems to be something their victims can’t take as an example, even in terms of moving forward.
You wrote that you hope others will see my true colors: and then what? Dislike me? Turn away from me? Is that your own fear? Is that why you’re a people-pleaser?
Why should I care what people think of me after they see my true colors – if they are true? Is being truthful something people should fear and hide? Is that what your abusers taught you?
Is that also how you expect me to engage with Beth and her diabolical display of a dangerous ideology hiding in plain sight?
Should I wear a mask of pleasantness that smooths over what I actually think and feel about what she’s proposing?
You want me to wear the same mask you’re wearing: the one that keeps you “safe” and silent.
Jordy,
Everyone’s pace and route to the mountain is different. Just because I don’t take the route you want or go at the pace you prefer, doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude to me.
Why do you care how long I take to get to where I’m going? Why do you feel the need to be irritated by my pace? Your contempt for me is your issue, not mine.
Thank you for explaining though. Now that I understand that its contempt, I won’t be responding should you try to interact with me again.
Leigh,
Sometimes silence is golden.
#facts, AV!
You’ve proven my points Leigh and your friend assisted you.
JG: You want me to wear the same mask you’re wearing: the one that keeps you “safe” and silent.
AV: Leigh, Sometimes silence is golden.
Leigh: #facts, AV!
Your contradictions, just in case:
“Just because I don’t take the route you want or go at the pace you prefer, doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude to me.”
Previous:
“I actually hope you attack me now.”
A victim mentality wrapped in moral self-righteousness. It’s an “I’m being wronged but I’ll rise above it” positioning an emotionally self-serving loop that avoids introspection or accountability.
You claim to reject hostility whilst actively seeking it, Leigh.
Hey Jordy:
I took her words as surrendering to God, a higher power. It’s even in the steps to recovery. And I see nothing wrong with that…. I don’t think she meant surrender to a narc…. Not a good idea;)
Damn, you make me boil. Self-will IS the fucking freedom. It IS that which connects you to your imaginary friend — the very thing you can’t grasp when you talk about “breaking” something. Freedom, self-will, and breaking do not belong even remotely in the same sentence. The most dangerous people — the fucking psychos of a holy inquisition — talk like that, talk like you, Beth. You’re twisting the “memory” HG talks about in the article into a perversion. And the worst thing is that people like you mislead others with your holy Bible quotations — on purpose. You fucking almost know how vile and evil you are. Idiot.
What was that guy’s name again: the one who beat the boys to “break” their self-will and “save” them from their sins — mind-fucking them into surrender — all while quoting the Bible? This could be you, Beth.
Hey Jordy:
What about AA or NA, giving it up to a higher power, it doesn’t have to be a specific religion. These programs have saved millions of lives when their self will could not end the addiction. Do you disagree with these programs? They are well established and have saved many lives. I myself like seeing lives saved and if giving it up the Universe works, and helps, well done on your journey. We must support each other. Of all ways, love, compassion and kindness first. You are a respected part of my community my dear. My guess is you felt she was saying surrendering to narcs. And I agree with you, not a good policy dear Beth. I took your statements as my own cherished belief in letting Faith help you on your journey….
Contagious, hi love,
I’m not sure I can, but I’ll try to explain and answer your question. It’s not the ideology of a religion that helps people get better, nor is it a higher power. It’s the BELIEF of the individual in the idea that he or she CAN get better: that he or she DESERVES to get better, without any condition imposed by a higher power or an ideology based on conditions.
Religious conditions, such as those in Beth’s repeated posts, circle around the demand for surrendering to a higher power based on the eradication of self-will in order to find God or salvation. She speaks about finding freedom through truth, which she again places under the condition of surrendering to a higher power:
“Freedom only comes through truth, and truth demands surrender.”
And then she writes:
“Yet freedom isn’t found in revisiting the past or filling the void, it’s found when you face the truth of who you’ve become and release it into the hands of something greater. Control creates illusion; surrender restores reality.”
I don’t know if you realise it, but she is devaluing what HG has apparently become: suggesting that he must recognise he is less, and that he must give “the truth of who he has become” into the hands of something greater outside himself. Can you see how toxic that is? How the entire life experience of an individual is diminished, implying that something greater out there exists to which one must submit, just to fit into a box she deems truthful, free, and divine.
Who is she to hold such a measure? Divine, free, and true herself, one must conclude. But then, how is it that “good” and “bad” are already positioned and predetermined?
She dictates where true freedom is found:
“True freedom is not in the throne or the memory beside it, it’s in the breaking of self-will.”
She devalues both the memory and the throne without remotely understanding what’s written in the article, and the connection she draws is diabolic when she speaks of “breaking self-will.”
If you take a moment to think about what that means, how, over centuries, self-will has been broken and twisted by religious movements, you’d recognise the messenger of such a message.
And she has the audacity to come to a blog that deals with rebuilding self-will, freedom, truth, and knowledge, and to sprinkle over it the very ideology that advances what this truth exposes.
All this, under an article expressing a memory that deals with the truth of all truths. Among other things, it reflects the longing for the self to take its rightful throne, not to be wronged over and over again. It’s a deeply multilayered article and message, if you go through it again and look for those various layers.
Amen
I love rereading this 💔
Do not dare go anywhere, you are a beloved member of this community:)
Dear Jordy is too when she doesn’t have a bee in her bonnet. Best to let it be. Let it be. Let it be. Let it be. Let it be. Speaking words of wisdom , let it beeeee.