After I got out of Scientology (and thru the adjustment period) I gained traction in the real world and began to attain levels of financial success and personal freedom that i never had in Scientology. In truth the ascendency was (in Scn promo terms) a "rocket ride" up.
There was never any chance to really be free in Scientology because despite any "FNey" feeling, there was a military-industrial-complex running all Scientologists and whether they knew it or not, the cult members were just part of a vast army of worker ants, laboring endlessly to gather crumbs and relay them to an endless succession of other worker-ants.
The Command and Communication Channels of Scientology sent the well-programmed worker ants out to forage and bring back sustenance and valuable materiel to the colony where the Big (being) Ants resided.
GARGANTUAN ANT TRAIL
Scientologist communicate by a series of intricate signals, verbal, written and otherwise, much as ants do.
Did you know that ants, like Scientologists, even have propaganda tech?
Well, I have gone off my ant trail here on this post, talking about all kinds of unrelated matters to the thread.
Ants use pheromones for more than just making trails. A crushed ant emits an alarm pheromone that sends nearby ants into an attack frenzy and attracts more ants from further away. Several ant species even use "propaganda pheromones" to confuse enemy ants and make them fight among themselves.
But, then again, maybe getting off the Cult Ant Trail, is really what it is all about.
Once i got far enough away from the main ant "road" and lost sight of the colony and the 10 million other worker ants, I realized I was not an ant at all.
And the result? (see last line of following poem by Robert Frost)
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.