Arriving at my flat, I overheard a deluded neighbour talking through her door. She wasn't subjugated partisan when I arrived here, but over time, a darkness grew inside of her. Climbing the stairwell, I felt gravely unwell, sensing the sour smell of conceited betrayal; stigmatising an alienating void of haplessness.
The month began with a dead lamb in our paddock; the night before the flock knew life was leaving her; ostracised from the flock she waited alone, weak, dazed, but eased by water. As death inched closer to this shunned and fading presence. Metaphorically, I asked, what if? Had I not been subjected unto this, zeroed demise by that which sort to possess my soul.
First day of this month ended with a tomfoolery party at the Tushilaw Inn, a pub "cook" representing an invading socialist society enquired if I was OK whilst sporting "Nothing but Love" t-shirt; encored drone of "Let it be" n "Auld Lang Syne"; spite sponged vinegar upon weary, estranged soul, parched of life.
I'm enjoying this warm summer in the Scottish Borders, before settling I only came to Scotland in mid-winter months as I also enjoy cold wild winds, the clarity of reflection, and bright enamouring whiteness of this here, serene bonnie Scotland.
Forty-nine years old this month; during the last three to four years I have aged considerably in appearance. Life has moved around and about me in the Scottish Borders, but strangely, the two friends have made here are both English, originating from the West Midlands.
Lambing season is almost over, at the start of April there were ninety-nine sheep distributed between two grass keeps and one paddock. There have been five cade lambs, all lambs birthed within the flock have survived; including triplets.
In the midst of lambing season within the Scottish Borders, this month I am hoping to make contact and network with other ethnonationalists in informative retrospective unto the "milieu control" predicament we're in.
With lambing season quickly approaching, I am hoping to get many pictures and some video of this amazing time within the Scottish Borders. My health is beginning to improve after a two-month lull, due to a stalled b12 injection in December 2022.
I travelled with Charlie to Lindisfarne, Carlisle and Morecambe. Roamed surrounding areas of Selkirk (Ancient woodland of Yair), Galashiels (Scots View) and Hawick (Wilton Lodge Park).
Finding the land of Scottish Borders enchanting and people somehwat endearing. About fourteen miles from Hawick there is a water fall named the Grey Mares Tail. I also learned of local poet and writer James Hogg, and enjoyed panoramic views of a man made reservoir named Meggit Water.
My life has changed greatly during this month I have settled into the Scottish Borders having been given a local connection under special circumstances I am really hoping to make a fresh start and gain a new outlook I have many inspirational plans to enact here.
This month, I was abruptly ejected from a social circle via text message I struggled and endeavoured to gain a social rapport for a fortnight but was cancelled as in "don't talk to any of us" this virtue signalling plummeted me into dejected isolation yet again.
During this month I lived a little, and attained some meaningful rapport. I travelled along the North Western Highlands, up to wee city of Dornoch, big burn falls of Golspie, Helmsdale, Thurso, walking across rugged coastline to view panoramic Kyle of Tongue ascetic and white sandy beaches of Durness, and down to Kylesku.
After hitching a five hundred mile lift to Calais from Aviemore I travelled to Boulogne-sur-Mer, Bethune, Lile, Wervik (France and Belgium) and Comines. Returning to the UK for medical reasons I visited Oban in the Western Scottish Highlands and Banf in Aberdeenshire to complete my last stretch of coastal path between Cullen and Port Soy.
This month I rambled the North East highland coastal path, avoiding the midges of the western isles. I hitch-hiked to Peterhead then rambled north along the coastal path to Fraserburgh, Rosehearty, Gardenstown turning westward towards Macduff and Banff.
Slàinte mhath, you have arrived at the website of Léonie Blaire-Cooper. I reside within the Scottish Borders, UK. I am a 49-years-old, of Scoto-Norman origin and was birthed from a small university town named Loughborough within the landlocked county of North-West Leicestershire, United Kingdom (UK). Paternally my ancestry is French, from Normandy and Guernsey.
Ethnically I am White, 100% North-West European. DNA examination in 2017 stated my ancestry as: Irish, Scottish and Welsh 26.9% and 16.9% Scandinavian. I am ethnocentric and homogenous, and as a unique person, indigenous to north-west Europe; I believe in our right to ethnic self determination, as an ethnic majority within our homeland, Europe. I have a passion for studying psychology, revisionist history and adore experiencing French, Scottish and Scadinavian culture. I align with eighteenth century Deism, although I do not define myself a Christian; thus I have neither been baptised, christened or taken covenant. Nor have I pledged loyality, oath of secrecy to/with any faternity whatsoever.
I've been travelling extensively for over thirty-four years around the UK. Favourite locations include the Cairn Gorms, Scottish Borders, South West Coastal path, and the Welsh mountains of Snowdonia. Internationally, I have visited France, Belgium, India and Sri Lanka. In 2007 I became famous during a visit to Gujarat, India; over a duration of two years consisting of three visits I religiously greeted over one-hundred thousand Indian Hindu people. A decade later I was received, with reverence.
At the age of 32 I was névé, and culturally ill-informed of my people's history in retrospective of my world view today. I have no regrets visiting India and embracing the Indian people, but given the choice, in hindsight of what I know now, I would not have visited, knowing how much I'd be abused as an opportunity mule, on my return to the United Kingdom, by a putrid Dominican / Jesuit apostolate named Martinism, a self-loathing, disinheritance cult wagering spite-driven "Jesus in the slum" tribulations.
From over a decade of systemic persecutions, involving religious abuses, whilst isolated impoverished and alone, I became inflicted with mental health problems such complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (cPTSD) and Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD); I have also been diagnosed with emotional Borderline Personality Disorder (eBPD), this being due to a troubling childhood. At the height of contentions 13-15 I was detained and sectioned over Seventy times under the Mental Health Act 1983.
Throughout my bizarre life I have dwelt with natures ascetic, and as an unsettled spirit I've been a relentless adventurer. For Thirty years, my diet was vegetarian / vegan; developing pernicious anaemia because of dissociated appetite inflicted by ailing mental health problems, being traumatised into convalescent states of catatonia. Historically I have been passionate about concerns involving environmentalism and animal welfare.
Incidents incurred, with belief in racism (cultured partinsan tolerances) dropped; concern, today, is much about ethnic survival of white people, thus I have spent a lengthy amount of time researching and writing exposure pages on this, my website. In view of psychological warfare against us, I believe we can secure a prosperous future, non-violently, by deliberative ways and means that have been historically used against us. Our people were 31% of the planet in 1901, reduced to 9% today.
I have written this blog to share my experiences of life, to show the aesthetic I have seen in nature, and also to warn my people of an encroaching ethnic genocide, inflicted by psychological abuses conditioning captive mentality, isolation to facilitate abuse, trauma marginalising a Christian-Communist campaign that both uproots and castigates, then subordinates with poverty. Inflicting suffering by inducing states of catatonia, with the aim of defacing and replacing our people from nurtured ancestral spirit that dwells within the landscape of our homeland.
Elsk kristne, ødelegge kirken.
A more indepth, detailed history of the life and times of Léonie Blaire-Cooper.
Throughout my life, during wild, sometimes extreme adventures, I have taken thousands of photopgraphs with mobile phones and DSLR cameras.
Dartmoor can be a lonely, stalk place, where our white ancestral spirit dwells invigorated, reflected upon being from this soft moorland, cradling tired but steadfast foot, preserving direction of faith yet untold.
South West Coast Path
Photographs from my ramble over Kernow coastline, including Bideford, Bude, Widemouth bay, Sandymouth beach, Kastel Boterel, Tre war Venydh and Porthysek.
An Geamhradh Wanderings of the highs and lows of Alba, from north Inbhir Theòrsa to Dùn Phrìs is Gall-Ghaidhealaibh.
I have lived almost three decades sporadically transient; about the great outdoors, living close to nature.
With persecutions of our people becoming so virulent and widespread, there may come a time when you will be moved on endlessly. It's imperative that you know how to look after yourself.
I have been interested in psychology for several years.
Identifying Religious Abuse
One specific meaning of the term religious abuse refers to psychological manipulation and harm inflicted on a person by using the teachings of their religion. This is perpetrated by members of the same or similar faith and includes the use of a position of authority within the religion.
Being able to predict people's offset responses is essential, not only can save you a lot of time and trouble but can help substanciate projection and thus be beneficial to those who could really use a little understanding.
Psychological trauma is damage to a person's mind as a result of one or more events that cause overwhelming amounts of stress that exceed the person's ability to cope or integrate the emotions involved, eventually leading to serious, long-term negative consequences. Trauma is not the same as mental distress or suffering, both of which are universal human experiences.
Know history and enable yourself and others to cease being crucified by indoctrinations of Alturism.
White Victorians who had not fled or had been banished from the United Kingdom, pushed to advance Colonialism were this interned and marginalized into a gruelling collectivization of misery, known as the Workhouse and later to others as Gulag. At its height the 19th century saw 700 workhouses housing 250,000 people with some, such as Lambeth in London, holding up to 1,000 people at a time.
Some called it Colonization, but we know of it as White Diaspora. A migration of indigenous European people covertly dislodged from their ancestral homelands a succession of unnatural disasters, enforced by an orchestrated, insidious tyranny of ethnic genocide.
I hang out on IRC, as leonie, on an encrypted IRCD server I administrate, you can find me here:
SSL Port: +6697 Channel: #NationalAnarchism
I don't always respond promptly; leave a message, casually await reply (drawn correspondence).