The great soul lives in his own delusional state: being a man of high self-esteem, and a well-deserved sense of pride and accomplishment about life, himself and how things are going, it is understandable that he should trust his groupist neighbors, associates, relatives and coworkers more than he should, and more than they deserve.
To requite for this state of subjective self-deception, and disastrous policy towards the world and treacherous others, he must proceed, grounded in the reality that most likely things are not as they appear to be.
He is surrounded by secret enemies with but one objective: to shut him down and restrict his liberty, by any means fair or foul, as long as they can square it with their elastic personal consciences, and flimsy collective consciences.
They are secretive to the max, against an outsider. The rats are running in the wall, and they are basically evil, basically crazy, and are living in group sin, so furthering the cause of Lera rather than the Mother is all they desire, and they work hard to please her and the Evil Spirits.
The great soul must constantly remind himself that the battle eternal between good and evil is unfolding right under his nose all the time, and the herd around him is ever closing in, ever striving mightily to take him out and silence, so his small bright center of goodness and light, the divine presence, is wiped out in their midst.
Psalm 37, 32; "The wicked man spies on the just, and seeks to slay him."
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