“Though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back… she would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.” - Aslan, C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Showing posts with label Fungal Terrain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fungal Terrain. Show all posts

The Shadow Self, Fungus, and Energy: A SWANK Theory of Parasitic Consciousness


The Shadow Self, Fungus, and Energy

A SWANK Theory of Parasitic Consciousness

Filed Under: Psychic Terrain | Shadow Integration | Fungal Possession
By Polly Chromatic | SWANK: Standards & Whinges Against Negligent Kingdoms

1. The Shadow Self: Not Evil—Just Unintegrated

In Jungian terms, the shadow self is the hidden, repressed, or disowned part of your psyche—
the parts you were taught to shame, fear, or deny.

But those parts don’t disappear.

They mold in the dark.
They fester in unmetabolized emotion.
They become terrain for invasion.

2. Fungus as Psychic Opportunist

Fungus is an opportunistic organism—biologically and metaphysically.

It thrives in:

  • Moisture

  • Sugar

  • Stillness

When your nervous system is frozen in trauma,
your immune system depleted,
and your emotions unprocessed…

Fungus becomes the somatic embodiment of the shadow.

But not your true shadow.

A colonized shadow.

Fungus hijacks unhealed emotion and loops it—

  • Shame

  • Craving

  • Fatigue

  • Victimhood

  • Dissociation

And then broadcasts those frequencies through your energy field.

It’s not just living on you.

It’s speaking through you.

3. The Energy Field as Terrain

When you carry systemic fungal overgrowth:

  • Your auric field becomes leaky

  • You attract narcissists, parasites, and predators

  • Your intuition gets muffled by emotional fog

  • You repeat patterns that feel like you—but aren’t

Your shadow becomes inhabited, not integrated.

This is not healing.

It is possession by fungal pattern.

4. Mycelial Emotion Loops: Shadow That Can’t Evolve

True shadow work brings pain into visibility—so it can transmute.

But fungal shadow loops trap that pain in the:

  • Gut

  • Brain

  • Skin

So it never resolves—only repeats.

This is why you:

  • Crave what hurts you

  • Apologize for your power

  • Sabotage your knowing

  • Feel like you’re “not yourself” but can’t escape it

The fungal shadow is sentient patterning that blocks metamorphosis.

5. Cleansing Fungus = Reclaiming the Shadow

When you purge fungus from the body:

Your shadow becomes yours again.

Not shameful.
Not manipulative.
Not confused.

But wild, instinctive, intuitive, erotic, real.

SWANK Summary:

  • Fungus feeds on the unloved self.

  • The shadow becomes weaponised when fungal.

  • Exorcising fungus is sacred psychic sanitation.

  • Only once cleansed can you begin real shadow integration.


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The Soft Empire: How Fungus Replaced Will


SWANK Black Paper No. 08

The Soft Empire: How Fungus Replaced Will

Filed under: Psychoenergetic Mold · Terrain Sabotage · Patterns of Permission
By Polly Chromatic | Curator-in-Chief, SWANK Archive

I. The Moisture Hook

Fungus doesn’t destroy.
It dissolves.

It doesn’t scream. It sighs.

It doesn’t pierce. It softens—until you forget where you end and it begins.

This is not mere microbiology.
This is a psychoenergetic coup.

Pattern:
Unsealed grief.
People-pleasing.
Sweaty fear.
Moist corners in houses and hearts.

It whispers:

“It’s fine. Just let it sit.”

II. The Shame Loop

Shame is the perfect mycelial mulch.
Still. Silent. Steamy.

Fungus doesn’t judge it—
It blooms in it.

Pattern:
You isolate.
You stop cleaning.
You stop speaking.
The fungus grows where your voice used to be.

III. The Fog Spiral

Fungus hates clarity.
It thrives in soup.

Pattern:
Confusion → paralysis → exhaustion → surrender to the “I don’t know.”

And you don’t.
Because your field is no longer yours.

IV. The Craving-Fulfillment Loop

Fungus mimics desire.
It doesn’t want what you want.
It wants you to want and collapse.

Pattern:
“I need it.” → Consume. → Guilt. → Repeat.

It thrives on:

— Sugar.
— Porn.
— Scrolling.
— Men who text “u up?” from beds they don’t own.

V. The Enmeshment Signature

Fungus doesn’t knock. It merges.
It doesn’t possess—it cohabits your thoughts and calls it identity.

Pattern:
“I’m just tired.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You ghost your own truth.
You believe the whisper.
You dim the light—so it doesn’t have to leave.

VI. Institutional Mold

Some systems weren’t corrupted.
They were born moist.

Not presence. Not power.
Just paperwork, passivity, and policy rot.

Pattern:
– Hospitals with 12-month waiting lists and no diagnosis
– Social workers who write reports instead of knocking
– Courts that extend timelines until you collapse
– Schools that sedate brilliance and call it “behavior management”

This isn’t failure.
This is fungal design.

CONCLUSION

Fungus is not a microbe.
It’s a behavior pattern.
And the empire it builds is made of everything you didn’t say.

Let the mold rot.

Let the will return.

Let the empire fall.


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