Author: William

Hello my love,

You’re right. Honestly, meeting you was the best thing that’s happened to me in a few years. Truly. I literally have not been in so much pain and hurt, and it’s caused me to dig deep inside and look for answers, answers that I’ve had deep inside me for a long time. This whole experience has brought me back to a good place. A place where I have no more secrets. A place where I’ve embraced the pain, embraced the confusion and struggle, and it’s left me with a profound peace. The past month, as our relationship grew more and more turbulent, I was losing sleep, and not eating. Today was the best I’ve felt in a long time.

I love you. As a human being. I’m ashamed of the way I reacted to the news the past week. I think I had a lot of things I wasn’t addressing, and I think the guilt I allowed you to make me feel consumed me. Guilt and shame. I feel none of that now. Life is life. It’s not good or bad. Struggles and difficulties are a permanent feature. Joy comes from embracing them. I wish the person I am at this moment met you on our first date, but then again I’d never be in this place.

The last time I’ve felt this alive, and at peace, I was a homeless drug addict with no highschool diploma. I was living at a friends house, in a spare room, and his mother was acted as my mother. Her love was unconditional, unlike the home I grew up in. There was no fear of rejection with her. I remember hitting bottom. Thinking about my life. The love of my life at the time had called me a loser 9 months earlier, and told me she was now dating a great guy who’s studying to be a doctor. I felt crushed. But I knew, because I loved her, she deserved better than anything I could give her at that time, and so I let her go. But I told myself that someday I would meet a person, and I would have all the love to give her, and I would be worth something.

I recall sitting on the outside patio early in the morning around March or April 2006, sipping coffee, still groggy. I was reflecting on my life. The months prior I had gone on a drug binge after getting kicked out of my house for selling my sister drugs. I was at a low. I wanted to die, but I was too defiant to give up. I told myself I gave up being depressed a few years back in favor of doing drugs.

Why did I do drugs? I was angry with myself. I was angry with my parents. So angry with my father, so angry with my circumstances. It wasn’t my fault I had moved a dozen times. It wasn’t my fault I was emotionally fucked up cause my best friends had committed suicide. I was angry and bitter and life wasn’t fair. That my parents were assholes. Insensitive, and never wrong. First I coped with depression, and sick drawings. Then self mutiliation, until that got me in trouble. Then alcohol. Then I coped with drugs.

While I sat there, I remember thinking that I was going to become one of two things in life. Either a bum, in which case I would just kill myself. Or I would be miraculously successful. I made a decision to fuck my parents, to fuck my friends, to screw all the naysayers who said I was a high school drop out drug addict, and be successful. I made the decision that I was going to be wildly successful.

I remember searching for answers, and I remember grabbing a book my mother got me for Valentines day. I hadn’t spoken to my parents in a few months. I was bitter, and they kicked me out. But my mom sent me a valentines gift with a  single book titled “As a man thinketh”. It was the single most influential book that turned my life around. It’s message was that, what we think about, we become. Or as a man thinketh, so is he. Essentially, our thoughts govern our world, they make it bad or good. Our thoughts arise from our influences.

What I began to embrace is that problems and difficulty and struggle are a permanent feature of life. Accepting them is what allows us to move beyond them and overcome. They allow us the peace to see beyond the problem, and open our mind up to find solutions. I decided that my life, my difficulties were no ones problem but my own. I was responsible for them. No one else was. It was my life. My life. No one else’s. No one would care about me more than myself. No one. Not my parents, not my friends, not anyone. If I was going to be successful, there was one person who was going to get me there: me. If I valued myself, I reasoned, I must value my time, because life is nothing but the time between birth and death.  From that point forward I accepted the demands of my parents, cheerfully, being home on time and always keeping in touch with them. I remember cutting off my friends, and being alone for a long time. I gave my life structure by setting daily times to work out and read. I was disciplined. I made goals.

Long story short, I began looking for positive influences, and I began reading books voraciously. I read a book every day or two for months and months. I mended my relationship with my parents (kinda, obviously still struggling) I got a job. I saved money. And I put myself through night school to get my high school diploma. Shortly thereafter I began looking for colleges that would allow me to rebuilt my erratic high school academic performance, and give me a platform for going to college. I found a college, I enrolled, I graduated with a  4.0gpa, president of the honor society, president of the business society, senator of the student government, achieved all USA academic, and I had worked part time. I got a full ride to Vanderbilt university.

The single best feature of my success was my learned ability to embrace problems and pain and struggling and suffering. I learned that life never gets easier, you just get stronger. Delayed gratification, discipline, commitment to what is true and honorable, and balance were the key elements. The struggle was daily. The tendency to do what was easy, to give in to vices and addictions to cope with some pain were constantly at the periphery.

I graduated Vanderbilt after taking 18 hours every semester, working 20-30 hours part time, joining a fraternity (questionable decision, but it was an experience), doing the policy debate team and publishing independent research on social capital in developing nations.

You see, the past several years I began the struggle. I began to struggle because I wanted life to get easier. This is the fatal lie we tell ourselves. The moment I wanted life to get easier, instead of me to get stronger, is when I began to struggle with my vices and addictions again. I will always be aware of my drug vices, as a past addict, but its harder to spot when I have other vices. After college I wanted to cruise. I had worked hard. I had a great job. I was living for the moment. I was very bookish in college, and shunned most partiers and that whole scene of debauchery. After college I was mostly alone, and I wanted to enjoy my money, and enjoy life, without really working as hard as I could. I had stopped embracing the pain and struggle and suffering, and began looking for shortcuts. I rationalized that I was being efficient. This was a lie. This spilled over into other areas of my life and relationships.

I had always worked out, but I had never dabbled in steroids. I began taking steroids as a short cut. This was a symptom of my larger issue with getting things the easy way. My increased libido is what increased my interest in dating and sex. I’m not bad looking, so it wasn’t difficult to have a lot of sex. I remember getting to a point and thinking that taking all these girls out was getting expensive, and sometimes they just weren’t interested in sex. I looked into prostitution. It was something I had so badly rationalized, that looking back, it blows my mind. I remember thinking that, $100 meal for maybe sex, or $200 for guaranteed sex. I tried it out for awhile. Unfortunately, my conscience began to weigh on me. I noticed the women were drug users or just had serious problems, and I began to look into sex trafficking and all the negative affects. I was ashamed of myself, so I quit.

Soon after I met a woman who introduced me to the idea of swinging. She told me I was an attractive young fit and intelligent man, and there were many people and couples that would love to have sex with me. She told me about swinging, and soon after I did some research on some sites and made a profile and found people to contact me. It soon bloomed into a full time hobby.

Shortly thereafter I met my ex. I told myself I would quit for her, and I did. However, she never knew about my past, and she seemed too good for me. This is why I sabotaged most of my relationships. I felt like they were too good for me, or I was too good for them. It’s something I’ll be addressing in therapy.

I rationalized reasons why I didn’t want to be with her. She was 35. two kids. Can’t move. etc etc etc. When I look back, I realize I just wasn’t meant for her. Yes, I love her. She’s a kind person. She always accepted me. But she didn’t know about my past, and I was too ashamed to share it with anyone I cared about. She actually enabled me in many ways. This guilt caused me to cheat. I tried to break up all the time. My mood swings were symptoms of my underlying guilt. It tore me apart. We talked about marriage and all this stuff, and I wanted it. I wanted to love her, and I wanted to be loved. But the guilt killed me. And every time I tried to break up, I’d break up for a few days, cheat with swingers or women, and then she’d still be there. And I’d get back with her. She was always waiting. Eventually the guilt was too much, and in march I broke up with her. I swore that I would never go back, but we still maintained a relationship. However, I told her that I was cheating. I had to once I got Chlamydia. It was almost a relief. She even accepted me for that.

After this I went wild. I just induced in more sex and more women.

This is when I met you.

I did not know it at the time, but you and I share a similar story. There have been many people that have offered to pay me, and they even offered to introduce me to people, but I had too much going for myself as a career to seriously consider it. Sex was a hobby. It was my personal addiction. It felt good. And it allowed me a break. And it gave me the power to have people fall in love with me, if only for a night or two or three. It validated me in some way too. If I hadn’t been in college, and went to vanderbilt university, and had a great job making insane money, I could easily have sex for money. Its very easy for me to judge others when I hear it, but I remember the times people offered to introduce me to some people, and the idea seemed harmless. Why not get paid for sex. I’m having it anyway.

When I met you I had decided that I wanted to stop the lifestyle. That I wanted to try to be with someone exclusively. I made a commitment that I would try. I spoke to my friends about this. They laughed at me. I happened to choose you.I made the decision to be serious about you, more serious that I had been about anyone.  Why? Well. You’re a captivating person, full of interesting opinions and your passions are varied and you’re up for anything. I honestly wasn’t attracted to you the first date or two. You were very common. But I liked you. I liked the cards. I liked your thoughts on the world. I liked the way we could easily talk about anything. You were a very familiar person. You were comforting. I trusted you. The third date you seduced me basically, and showed me a side of your sexuality that was too much for my appetite. I stopped thinking clearly and just wanted sex. If I wasn’t on hormones, things maybe would have played out differently.

I remember thinking to myself that I should tell you my past. But you seemed so principled, and so self respecting. I thought you would run away if I told you I was a sex addict (something I just realized last week). It was the same guilt that I wrestled with in the past. However, you also seemed to have a past, and I believe I didn’t ask more questions in fear of what I would find and have to reveal about myself. I would joke with conrad about you being an escort, or you sleeping with people for money. Things never added up. You never worked. You spent like you did. You had lots of older men that were friends. Etc etc. And we would joke about how funny that would be considering my past.

Long story short, I still struggled with my past, but I told myself that I would never cheat on you. I got very close a few times, but I told myself that I could not cross the line, that I could not bring that guilt into our relationship, because I knew I couldn’t live with it, and I wanted you. I knew it would destroy our bond. And I wanted to spend all my time with you. For as long as possible.

 I believe your guilt because of your actions (cheating) caused you to react so crazily during the end of our relationship. That’s my opinion. Or one theory.

Anyway. I don’t blame you for anything. I really don’t. If I was right, I probably would have never met you. If I had my life in order, I wouldn’t have been texting other women. I would have waited longer to not have sex. I would have done a lot of things different. I probably wouldn’t have met you on okCupid. And this would never have happened. But it did.

I thank you for the experience. I don’t judge you. I am hurt, and devastated to hear that you were cheating on me throughout our relationship, and you maintained a relationship with your ex the whole time. But I’m not without blame. While I saw my ex once, and I never really talked to her, she wasn’t cut from my life. I never fully disengaged from my past and moved forward. What I do know is that I did love you. I loved you more than anyone I had in a long time. Possibly ever. I gave my heart to you in a way I haven’t to anyone in years. That’s why the past few weeks have been so hard on me. It was devastating news. Sleeping for people for money makes it worse, I’ll be honest. But I probably would have reacted the same way if you cheated regardless. It smashed my heart. My soul.

Anyway. I’ve embraced my problems. I’m in a good place. Every day I’ll move forward. Therapy will be good. I need to address some issues about my childhood. I also fear abandonment. I sabotage relationships when I fear the other person will leave me. This is probably due to my parents threatening to leave me or give me away or telling me that I can live somewhere else but not in their house every time I did something wrong. I suffer trust problems just like anyone. I trusted my parents, and they ruined that trust when they would give and take, when they would read my journals. When they would follow me around when I was with my friends, spying on me, ruining my privacy, listening to my phone conversations. When they would embarrass me in front of people, poking fun at my most sensitive insecurities at my expense. My father was particularly good at this. This all killed my self esteem as a child, and it’s never fully recovered. I seek validation through others. I’m a people pleaser. I need therapy because of this.

When I broke your trust, and talked to your family, or jon and whoever, it was this childlike instinct to hurt you before you could hurt me again. IT was a way to distance myself from the hurt.

None of what I do is excusable. I’m utterly ashamed that I handled this whole thing the same way. Like I said, if I was in a better place, like I am in currently, this would have worked out differently.

I don’t necessarily think that we could be together after what happened, but at least I could have gave myself a good look, and been patient. I wish my life was in order when I found out all this stuff, but then again we wouldn’t have met.

There are more details about my life, but that’s a small summary.

I thank you for the pain. It has been excruciating. But I love you for it. No joy without suffering. If our relationship hadn’t had been so enjoyable, I wouldn’t have been in such pain. If i had cheated on you (and when I mean cheated, I mean physically slept with someone else, or was emotionally involved with someone, which in my mind was cheating), I wouldn’t have suffered as greatly. And then I wouldn’t have arrived at such a profound understanding of my life.

I’m still learning from the experience. It is mind blowing. But I accept it.

I can’t apologize enough for the way I handled myself this week. It is what it is.

Regarding Brandon, we’re having a good time. He works like 16 hour days, so he’s been groggy and sleepy all the time, so I’ve been reading and writing and just reflecting. We’re catching up and doing things.

I really love you. I really want the best for you. I hold nothing against you. At all. At this point I will be reestablishing me. Doing what’s difficult. Embracing the pain. Embracing what’s uncomfortable. This means not only confronting my daily life with a new resolve, but also addressing the history with my family. They’re good people, they’re just wounded. I mentioned they were both raised by parents that were sexually abused. It’s a terrible cycle. They were raised by parents that never fully addressed their problems, and in turn I was raised by them. Generational problems that were never fully resolved. My hope is that it stops with me forever.

Take care of yourself,

M

We all have a past. Everyone has their demons. It doesn’t matter who someone is or was, it matters who they want to be. That’s what makes someone special. I have my past, which you don’t know, but it isn’t that different from Damhán and yours. We all slip up. We all want to do what’s easy and avoid what’s hard and ignore what’s painful. When we embrace the difficulty and pain, life ceases to be a problem, and it’s just life. Then we can think beyond our problems and spend time developing solutions. Don’t let the pain or struggle get you down. I know you have a great heart. I know you’ve been doing the hard thing, rather than the easy thing, and it is making you stronger day by day. Don’t avoid problems. Spend time figuring out solutions. One day you will realize how much your life has changed, and how much different you are, how much stronger you are. And all the while, life never got easier, you just got stronger. Keep a positive attitude. Whether you know it or not, you have a lot going for you right now. You are young, and you’re in school, and you have goals. You made a decision to be better, and refuse to settle. That’s an amazing place to be. Don’t beat yourself up when you slip. Forgive yourself, and accept it as part of the learning experience. Face the struggle and pain head on. You will always overcome it with enough persistence and effort.

The past year has been insane. I resigned myself to a year of immediate gratification at the close of 2012, determining that thinking and overanalyzing was doing me more harm than good. I started a new job on January 14th, 2013, and I’ve worked there for a full year now.

Now that the year is up, I feel refreshed.

I’d like to recap on the past year. And I almost wish I journaled more, since my experiences were so colorful, but I made a commitment to be as unreflective and reaction oriented as possible. What did my life consist of the past year? Work, working out, sex. The last four months I began a serious relationship, but I’ll get into that later.

A brief recap:

At the start of 2013 I began a new job as a sales engineer for the world’s largest industrial automation company. My previous job was in the healthcare IT consultancy industry working as a financial analyst, which was otherwise a glorified accountant. I made $35,000. I hated the job, and I could barely support myself given my student loan debt.

As is customary when I find myself repulsed by life’s circumstances, I sat down and outlined a list of goals, desires, and chief aims which include deadlines for their attainment. I wanted a lot more pay, increased autonomy, and a greater day to day challenge. Within 4 months I secured my current job, and at the close of my first year I can say I achieved all those things: tripling my income, the freedom to decide my weekly work and travel schedule, and endless potential for problem solving. So that was a success. However, there were many mistakes made. For example, despite earning over 100k a year, I managed to spend every last dime. I also failed to cultivate new and old friendships, leaving me in the same social standing as I was a year ago.

This upcoming year my goal is to track every penny that comes in and out of my bank account.

It is not how much you can spend, but how much you can save: this is what makes you wealthy.

I clearly had it all backwards my entire life: even though cerebrally I knew the only way to accumulate wealth was to save it, my behavior was bent on instant gratification, probably as a direct result of my decision to live in the moment. Now that it’s all out of my system, I am on to clearer financial goals. Namely: spend as little as possible. Instead of finding excuses to spend, I will find excuses to save. My satisfaction will come from saving, rather than spending.

I dated heavily at the close of 2012 and 2013. This casual dating lifestyle led to countless sexual encounters which eventually manifested into a voracious appetite for sex. At the start, I thought I had to impress the women with my chivalry. I spent hundreds of dollars a week on lavish dinners and drinks. I was very conscientious about treating them with respect and kindness. Unfortunately, my success rate at impressing them was abysmally low. Worse, I was spending all this money for nothing. I noticed some women would just call me cause they knew I was naive enough to take them out again. This got tiring and I grew frustrated with women, causing me cast them all off as pathetic leaches. This led to an exploration for other means to procure sex while skipping the formal charades, and soon I found myself exploring prostitution which, with mixed satisfaction but guaranteed sex, lasted for several months.

However, I still had hope that a good woman existed out there, so I continued dating but I figured I’d stop wasting my money on them. As a result I’d take them out to cheap restaurants, or I wouldn’t buy them anything. Soon enough I realized that the majority of girls liked being treated like dogs. Naturally my confidence grew with my success, but the whole process of “winning them over” seemed to be tiring. This opened the door to an entirely new lifestyle.

On one occasion I got a message from a woman who was very upfront about her agenda. She wanted sex. The catch was she had a boyfriend. This caused me to raise an eyebrow, but the proposition of no strings attached sex seemed appealing, so I accepted her drink. During our date she opened my mind to the world of swinging. I never did follow up with this woman, but pandoras box was opened. My curiosity led me to discover a community of couples who indulged in this lifestyle, so I soon got connected. I would receive invitations from couples young and old inviting me to have sex with them. Usually the husband or boyfriend wanted to watch me railing and pleasuring his wife. They referred to me as the stud, or the bull. This lifestyle was purely sexually, no strings attached, and it complemented my lifestyle geared for immediate gratification. No useless charades and wasted money: just sex. And plenty of it.

My dating life declined as my sexual needs were satisfied. I didn’t end the search altogether, though. While I viewed most women as vapid leaches, I knew that good woman existed out there.

That is when I met her…

 

 

I haven’t journaled or read much recently. I’ve been vegetating, working out, and going on dates. Indulging in the moment, as it were. I begin my job training two weeks into the new year, and I’ve been coasting on the elation of vacation. But three weeks into not working has left me feeling slow, underutilized, and my mind feels achy, as if it hasn’t stretched itself in a very long time.

Actually, my life has been pretty crazy recently. I think I’ll be starting a new blog to document the more insane aspects of my life, the aspects that make mothers and young children squeal in horror. I’m human, and I’m an individual. The moral herd and their herd instinct reel back in gross distaste when they observe such behaviors, so I should categorize them in a more appropriate digital venue. My anonymity has already been compromised with this blog.

My life is a charade really. Who I perceive myself to be, and what I show others is rarely congruent. Often times I forget that I’ve constructed the life I have for myself. On paper everything seems so nice and neat. So organized and educated. So clean and crisp. Internally, my life is a melding of mayhem, a confluence of colours representing competing drives and motives for domination, for gratification, for adulation.

I look down upon people who haven’t achieved what I have, on paper anyway. Why? Because if I can do it, anyone can do it. And if you don’t, you lack imagination and will power. But I guess those two commodities are in ever short supply.

It’s funny. When people meet me, they think I’m so innocent. So good. People will often tell me they don’t want to tell me this or that because I will judge them, because somehow I will think they are weird, or off, or less of a person. They perceive me in my pressed slacks and starched shirts with my blonde hair and inviting smile, and they recount the reputation that has preceded me, the education, the work experience, and they see the pictures of my blonde family, my youthful mother in her cardigan, my all-business father with his wiry glasses and books, and my two beautiful sisters, and they construct a narrative that resembles some modern all American boy. Underneath there is a dark pool of filthy possibility ever circulating, of ambient energy just waiting to be materialized into some creative illusion, devoid of a collective conscience, except where beneficial for appearances.

Context is all important. Branding. Associating with the proper symbols of cultural and capital worth. Weaving a backdrop where people can neatly place you, effortlessly. We must do the work for other people. Do not let them surmise. Do the surmising for them. Do not be explicit. Be implicit. Let them think they are doing the mental work. “Oh, how clever you are! You were able to figure me out so well! You know me better than I know me! Goodness gracious.” And my smile spreads all the more.

To understand context, you must comprehend society and demographics, social values and cultural currency. These provide the landscape of semiotics with which you can arrange an image, a story, an interpretation.

As I get older, I get colder. People become more empty to me, more mechanical, more meaningless. Not individuals, just people. Often a person will stereotype individuals, I simply stereotype people. The whole mass of’em. In a group, they are simply a machine, connected by their communication and collective values. As individuals, I have no judgement: you are a blank slate that each encounter draws upon. And like a blank slate that loses its hard chalky lines to temporal weathering, my memory affords your character with the same charity. Time makes us new, so long as we seek to overwrite our past rather than reinforce it. In contrast, the majority of people insist that “individuals don’t change”, and I think that’s a sad projection of their personal appraisal of themselves. Individuals can change, we just need to let them change. However, people “en masse” are as predictable as ever in their reluctance to change.  As if tradition is true and convention is comfortable.

So when I have a task that involves other people, I treat them as such. I can produce the proper combination of emotional responses to elicit the behavioral response I’m seeking. I do not try to reach them. I do not try to invest emotionally. I simply want a reaction. My emotions are invested in my future goals. Not their competing opinions and pursuits. People are a means. Individuals are ends.

In sales this paradigm is all important. You must never respond to an individual, only to the person who comprises a much larger and predictable population. Their response to your efforts of influence, whether desirable or not, represents a mark on the bulls eye, or a single sketch line. When you are trying to hit the center, you do not put all your efforts into one arrow. You grab as many arrows as possible and shoot them all. The more you fire off, the more likely you’ll hit your target. Likewise with sketching an image. A single sketch line will not guarantee the contours were captured. Only several lines, repeated with persistence will yield the absolute symmetric reflection of the body’s reflection.

Your will power dictates the excellence produced. The clearer your eye, the clearer your goal, the more definite you will capture your intention. All this requires a type of reflection that continually keeps your sight aligned.

I need to pack today. Speaking of intention, I intended to pack last week, but the “house manager” told me I could move out a few days later since the next tenant wouldn’t be in another week, and that I could take my time. Seeing as how I had dozens of potential dates with very fine women to attend, I chose to procrastinate and put off moving. Until today. I need to move out today. I would say about 15% of my room is in storage. It is a sad statistic.

I like to write about my dates the past several weeks, but I think I may have to save it. I’ve been looking for a girlfriend, but when you’re dating, you want to keep your options open, never wanting to cut off something that could potentially work. So what happens is you begin talking to dozens of women, and suddenly they are people rather than individuals. Over the past several weeks I’ve had some crazy times. I’ve learned some valuable lessons. I’m eager to write them down. Words of wisdom.

Anyway. I’m done writing. I never write what I mean. I always produce some fictitious story of what I think I mean, some faux fabrication of my perception.  I just write what I think. And sometimes what I think and what I mean are totally different. Thinking of more verbal, more syntactical. Meaning is more emotional. I can mean whatever I want. How it materializes into words is another story.

**

I just reread this post, and I’m certain that most psychiatrists would diagnose me as a sociopath. I’m not sure what that means (although I’m completely aware of the definition). I reject institutional evaluations of all types, for the same reason I reject the church’s decrees, and academias overly zealous certainty, and the governments posited altruistic benevolence. They are not truth, only instruments of domination. What is domination? It is a declarative thetical assertion. The Greek root of thetic means “to put or place down”.  Such as a gavel laying down the law.

I seek to override these institutional forces by coining my own worldview as an individual. I love my humanity, and the humanity of everyone else. I acknowledge these institutional forces and laws and practices, and I yield to their authority according to the utility that restraining my own will provides.

I’m fairly certain that most great leaders are sociopaths. Anyone who reads the book “How to Win Friends and Influence People” is setting themselves up for glorious liberation.  Anyone who practices rhetoric and develops speeches to move the masses into agreeable feeling and thinking has already adopted this disease as essential for getting ahead of the pack. Leaders and successful people understand that what matters is results, not how you feel about getting the results.

Is it okay to say something you don’t mean? What on earth does it mean to “mean”? Suspend feelings. Capture attention. Do what it takes to get the job done.

Anyway. I’m really done writing.

A friend comments:

“i love everything joel osteen stands for and his message..if you can talk for more than an hour about vague self help topics with a religious twist you can become a multi millionaire!…what a country!”

My thoughts:

Joel is no different than any other person proselytizing their values for profit. Every institution seeking power and influence relies on these leaders to cull and organize the masses into unflinching obedient belief. In essence he’s no different than any other cultural icon we subscribe and devote our attention to. If you have appealing values, you can gain a cult like following too. A great country indeed.

Friend’s response:

Very great point…but there’s just something extra sick about exploiting mainly poor and middle class people (for the most part) who think that giving people like him their money will somehow get them salvation or good fortune or a better footing in life.

My response:

What’s the difference between Joel and the majority of corporations? People give a company the majority of their waking life to get paid mediocre shit wages, believing they’ll make it someday, that someday they’ll be in a better position, and the company feeds them this lie, asking them to continue selling their soul, even though they have no genuinely vested interest in their employees long term well-being. These same companies promise salvation of a different sort, that by buying and consuming their goods, you’ll gain social status and satisfaction. But no amount of purchases make that a reality, so they exploit their material pipe dream, running people into debt and depression.

I believe that both Joel’s followers and any of these mainstream corporate consumers are equally exploited, and equally as foolish.

Friend’s response:

“but at least when you purchase an xbox you have something to show for it..and for most an xbox is not “a way of life””

My thoughts:

For most of Joel’s followers it’s not a way of life, just a feel good message on the weekends. Likewise, many Xbox owners operate the same way, but there are a good deal of those that subscribe to these institutions with equally ridiculous fanaticism.

I’d argue that the idea that “you have something to show for it” so “it makes it somehow more worthwhile” is part of this delusional disease of consumerism that keeps people buying more and more. I can show you someone who has it all but lives in emotional and spiritual (whatever that word means) poverty and destitution. And I can show you someone that has nothing tangible to show but is overflowing with emotional and spiritual wealth.

Seen in the right light, Joel ain’t that bad (when compared to his corporate counterparts that we readily identify with). He’s just religious, which leaves a bad taste in our mouth. Corporations are slowly becoming equally distasteful, we’re just not quite there yet as a culture. We should maintain an equal skepticism for each.

“Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people.”
—Eleanor Roosevelt

I decided that I should address this colloquialism. I throw the phrase around a lot, but I’m not sure people appreciate what I intend to mean when I use it.

Small-mindedness. When I think of the word, I think of people who fail to utilize their own value judgments. Most of these people don’t have any of their own. They feign the opinion of others. They live vicariously through fictions, through religions, through the authority of others. They create no fiction of their own, they have no faith in themselves apart from the faith their institution permits them to keep, and they fail to exercise any authority over their world, thinking that they are not yet in a position to arbitrate.

The greatest defining feature of small-mindedness is best characterized by Eleanor Roosevelt in the aforementioned quote. She understood that greatness exists in the ability to create and leverage ideas, the only enduring properties of life worth anything of value. Events come and go, and people are constantly changing and evolving.

Those who are constantly swept up in the current of gossip and drama are victims of their own pallid preoccupations. Their world is wrapped up in meaningless and trite drama coined by others and empowered by their endorsement. They have no life of their own, so they must attend to evaluating the lives of others as critics. But is being critical a bad thing? I should think not, unless it prevents you from acting. Critical inquiry should exist for the sake of progress, not for entertainment. Sure, it’s amusing to parrot on about so and so and assert a value judgement on their lives, but any attendance to the cultivation of your own life’s value is temporarily lost.

So I support Miss Roosevelt. The dreamers are the idea generators, the perception producers. They do not accept reality. They create reality. They do not attend to the mass opinion, nor do they worry about keeping up with the Joneses  or comparing and contrasting their worth to other little people. They pay no heed to the critics seated on the sidelines.

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
—Theodore Roosevelt

Small people. Little minds. This is the world’s majority. Why am I so special? What makes me exempt from possessing these “little” qualities? I believe it has to do with the scope of my thoughts, the context of my curiosity, and my aversion for subservience. I strive to avoid discussing people. I abhor gossip as much as I disdain drama. These activities are wasted energy, negative energy that seeks to limit and oppress others in order to elevate the speaker into a false superior position. There is no action, no resolution, no progress when gossiping or dramatizing. It is only tit for tat, pecking and picking and pruning.

Likewise, I refuse to accept creeds and commands at face value. I will not readily adopt the ideas of others unless I know them to be tried and true and tested to benefit my specific ends. I am not a mere calculator, not a cog. I am a creator, an individual with a refined perspective, a personal perspective that’s been diligently curated over the course of many years. Authority poses no power over me unless I recognize and diagnose a specific utility for bending to it’s will that outweighs the utility of its rejection.

What I seek to cultivate is my ability to conjure and create and manipulate ideas. Ideas are the fodder that ignites and animates our reality. Ideas are the mental scaffolding that assembles and structures values. Ideas provide the conceptual framework for perceiving and judging. When you master ideas, you master yourself, you master others, you master life. No other pursuit will lead you there. Not people. Not events. Only ideas provide the utility to mend and mold a mind towards ends and achievement.

But in order to conjure ideas, I believe an ego is needed.  This ego must be self-efficacious enough to create and construct new narratives and weave these wondrous worlds into belief. Specifically, an ego strong enough to fend off the competing ideas of others. You need to have an ego that is resilient and resolute enough to withstand criticism and rejection and disconnection.

Surely, I’m not perfect, but I strive towards the ideal of perfection. I stumble as much as anyone, but I never let myself get comfortable with being down, or being okay.

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great. —Mark Twain

Small minds impress their small thinking onto their small world, a single reality, devoid of alternative perspective.  They cannot see beyond the small possibility they’ve been afforded by others, and so they hold all other minds to that poor possibility. To rise above, to step beyond the realms of their reason is a grievance and outrage they have trouble rationalizing. They would, as a result, prefer to maintain appearances and secure a safe status quo for themselves, living in a prescribed box of what’s possible based on what’s already been done. And so progress buds but never blooms.

I left my job. It was miserable. It was for subservient, non-reflective, little people with little minds. I know we need those people, but I am not one of them, and I will never sucuumb to the pressure of conforming into their roles. That is for them. Not for me.

I’ve been interviewing like a madman for the past several months, trying my best to escape my god forsaken work situation which has plagued me with unhappiness, and I have finally accepted an offer, although I still have several final interviews scheduled.

The position I will ultimately accept is titled Technical Sales Engineer, or a Field Applications Engineer, for a multi-national scientific instruments corporation based in Japan. My pay will increase astronomically, and my autonomy will be restored. Because the position involves consultative sales, my customers require that I have extensive knowledge of their industrial processes so that I can adequately provide them with our technological solutions for increasing productivity or efficiency or effectiveness, or whatever is called for. As a result, I will be moving to Chicago to undergo training for several months before being redeployed in the Nashville area.

The interview process lasted about six weeks and included phone interviews, aptitude tests, skype interviews, personality caliper tests, and finally they flew me out to their Chicago headquarters for a day long interview process which included mock product presentations that I prepped for, meetings with national and regional directors, and other interviews over video conferences. The whole process was incredibly intense and, from what I gathered, very competitive. Overall it was a quality experience that left me very impressed.

I am leaving for San Francisco at 5am this morning for another interview on Tuesday. I know I will not accept their offer because the pay wouldn’t be nearly as comparable, nor would be position as Account Executive provide me with the quality training necessary for expanding my career mobility. Additionally, the position in Cali is for inside sales. My forte lies in outside sales, specifically business to business. I’ve done cold calling, and it’s terrible, no matter how quality the product is. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it and do it better than every god damn person I work with, it’s just that I prefer to look my clients in the eye when I’m selling to them. I will be working with engineers, c-level management, and even executives to implement precision engineering solutions.

I’ll be in San Francisco for a week, so I’m thinking of doing some exploring, visiting the Redwood Forest, etc. etc. I’ll be attending Thanksgiving dinner at my close friends house, with whom I’ll be staying.

Other than that, I’m moving in a month. I’m selling all my possessions. I’m editing my life. Living minimally. I hate useless crap. All I need is my books, my clothes, and…. that’s it. Maybe a bed and a desk. I don’t need shit I don’t use. Possessions end up owning you.

My close friend and business partner are buying a home under a company we started. We’ll be mortgaging it ourselves and renting it our for more than the mortgage. We plan on purchasing around one investment property every one to two years. These properties will be owned by our company which will serve as a capital holdings or capital management group. I need to finish training and begin working before I’ll re-qualify for a mortgage, so that’ll be around 4 to 6 months. Nevertheless, we have a realtor and a mortgage broker who we’ve been working with to spot attractive investment properties and secure the right financing.

I want a woman terribly. But I have decided to let my desires smolder. I gave up porn, masturbation, and useless sex. I want to focus my energies on building my career, and investing my wealth. Women are fickle and flaky. At this point in my life I want an emotionally vapid women who simply chooses to want me. None of this wooing bullshit. I just don’t care. I haven’t the energy or the time to try and convince people I care about them. Is that hilarious? Maybe it’s simply because I don’t want to be dependent upon a woman. They’re so whimsical and, I guess I’ll use that word again, “flaky” that they can’t be trusted. I’m callous. I know. I’d love to get vulnerable with a girl. But what do they want? They want shit that I don’t care about. They want to be fed lies. To be swooned, to be begged, to be doted on. I just want to love and care and provide for a woman. That’s it. No tricks. And just be faithful.

I want to be wedded to my work. Some people choose hobbies, like snowboarding, like kayaking, like sky diving, bowling, surfing, rock climbing. They choose these professions or past times because they identify with the cool factor, the risk and rush. Well, dominating at work provides me with that same risk and rush. That is my hobby. Working and building value and creating wealth. I value experiences, sure. I love traveling. I LOVE traveling. I love culture, experiencing new people, events activities. But work yields definitive, measurable rewards that you can count. So long as character remains the steadfast mast of my mission, I will not become corrupt or misguided, but develop excellence in all of my undertakings.

I am delusional with women. Yes, women. I hark on them once again. They are the nebulous drive that incites me into ecstatic fury. They light my desires ablaze. Nothing motivates me more than women. Yet, I refrain from reaching out and grabbing hold, lest I burn. I prefer to admire from afar. To warm myself from a distance. You must not get too close to the flame.

I am working out and staying healthy, as per usual. It is a permanent feature of my life, reflective of the discipline I seek to imbue in all areas. I weigh approximately 218 lbs. My body fat has decreased to roughly 14%, from 17%. I want to drop another 4% by January, while maintaining quality muscle. I bench pressed 345 lbs twice two weeks again. I deadlifted 500 lbs once the following day. I am getting stronger. I have cut my calories to about 2,500 a day. This is about 2,500 calories less than I was consuming from September to the beginning of November. I decided I needed to cut, that my peak of 225 lbs was too drastic and left me feeling too large and awkward. My waist has shrunk accordingly.

Other than that, I will be preparing for my new job. I plan on spending a week in Florida visiting my family and some friends. In addition, I plan on traveling to NYC and seeing a few friends I’ve been promising to visit there.

I haven’t been reading nearly as much as I should. Writing has been on the back burner. Not sure why I’ve been neglecting these activities as long and as much as I have. I suppose it’s just overwhelming to think about everything all the time. My life has increased its lucidity since I ceased my perpetual reflections. The labyrinth of never ending questions has trailed off, and I find myself living more animalistic, more content, more base than ever before. My circumstances have not deterred me from dreaming, however, and I am building my dreams more and more every day.

I plan on undertaking more hobbies. I’d like to choose some sophisticated past times to ameliorate the mind. These may include working on pleasurable pursuits in finance, or they may include something like scotch tastings, motorbike racing, or simply golf.

Anyway. I’d love to meet a woman and find a life with her. I’m more ready than ever before. But it won’t be with just anyone. It must be perfect and right. Until then, and for as long as it takes, I will remain focused on building my own life, preparing it for my future family.

I love you all.

Let me tell you: you don’t want to work for anyone but yourself. Carpe diem. You may argue thy experience is needed: that may or may not be true. You have a year of experience. You can read books. Your clients will provide you with experience.

Find a job and gain experience while your business is being built.

Our goal is to go full time within 1-2 years. In the meantime we build the business, assemble our model, develop our brand, Website, network, get our name out. I am good at sales/ networking. We will be successful, it will just take time.

I will continue asking until you figure out a way to make it happen, or tell me to fuck off. Cause I believe we will be successful with every bone in my body. I am reading nonstop. Within 2 years we will have read the books, conducted the market research, and developed our business plan and model so that we will be unstoppable. I have a network of incredibly knowledgeable, talented, and experienced professionals that will help me and provide me with the advice/ counsel i need along the way.

This is no hype. I’m telling you how it’s gonna be.

You’re one of my best friends, and you’ve always believed in me, now I’m telling you that I believe in you.

I have the potential. I don’t need to pander to “experience” by being “bookies” or “data worms” or “analysts”. Very rarely do great leaders wait around to actualize their greatness. They know that time is their enemy, and with enough time anything is possible, so they wait for no man, no circumstances. They make them.

You should be inspired. We can do it. No one will tell us it’s possible because a) they aren’t doing it, or b) they have no incentive to see us succeed and compete with them. It takes vision. It takes boldness. Daring boldness to try and fail, over and over again. THAT is where real experience is gleaned. Persistence. Focused determination. And failure, mistakes. If we never give up, we will learn from our ignorant mistakes, and gain wisdom and succeed wildly. No risk no reward. Too many people would rather be secure than be free, than let themselves fail and discover untapped potential.

Good habits, hard work, curiosity, persistence, passionate enthusiasm, intelligent reflection, and applied wisdom: the recipe for success. If you are capable of doing any of them, you are capable of doing all of them together. And success will follow naturally.

There is no secret to success. That’s what they want us to think: That we NEED to do this or that. We just need to try yielding to our dreams if we want to attain any satisfaction and feeling of accomplishment in this life that’s actually authentic and genuine.

here I am.

Happiness is over rated.

I had a party this weekend. about

I’m not sure what I want to write about at the moment. My thoughts are escaping me. They abound when I’m sitting in traffic, or talking with friends, or observing flocks of folk from a distance, but lately they’ve been shy as I try to place them to paper.

I’ve been desperate lately for a female in my life. My actions have been aggressive, yet hesitant as I calculate the appropriate trajectory to show my interest.

I’ve been all over the place.

My real desire is to find a life.

I need to read more. And write more.

What are my goals? What will move me into action? What will keep me on the straight and narrow and maintain my course?

I’ve been giving thought to times in my life where much has been accomplished, and the times that come to mind are when my progress has been pre-planned, and designed around benchmarks. These marks serve as indicators of progression, and also as a signal to celebrate the efforts of my work.

Currently I haven’t a plan, much less a direction. I have a sense, an intuition as to where it is I’d like to wash ashore. California keeps calling my name, but I’m not sure if it’s due to a yearning for escape, or a desire for adventure. And I suppose these are one in the same: escaping the monotony, the mundane, the routine, the predictable. I want lush. I want to dive down and pluck rare experience from the uncharted sea floors. Or venture into space, into the celestial constellations and weave my own narrative among the stars.

These are my dreams.

When I dream, my life seems overwhelmingly oppressive. My relationships feel like polyester, a fabricated comfort, inorganic and deceptively safe. Until a little friction arises. Whatever that means.

Here I am. I am no longer the center of attention. Life no longer revolves around my unearned blessings. I am a lone star, a shooting star, passing through these rigid bodies that blot the sky, the space, the sea of sparkling nether.

I am but an arrow that shines and sheens as onlookers peer above, looking to other stars for their direction. And I am majestic. I smear the heavens with dazzling colors, with an array of enchanting trails, and then I am gone, lost over the horizon, orbiting some new pull.

And passion begins to press itself into my veins again. I can feel their pulsating warmth rub me from the inside. I am home again. I sing, to myself. And it pours and gushes from my fingertips, into the world, into your eyes, into your ears as you mouth my memories, and they drip from soft lips.

I watch my mind being molded by the forces that vye all aound me. Where am I? I speak to an empty room. Where am I going? And I look at those around me being swept up in the currents of popular convention. Their dreams, like mine, are facsimiles of another’s. I am chasing tradition, and losing myself in the process. Ties, white collared shirts, popular man. And no heart. A brain, but no mind. No madness. No shock and awe to jolt the senses alive.

And we sleep.

Breathing brushstrokes with my mind, with my chest, it caves and colors the air around me with meaning. It craves more, and it sucks and strangles and I lie and die, waiting for something to breath life once again.

 

Tiredness has taken hold, with it’s steely grip, the forces of nature weigh on my mind and body like never before, my lids slowly succumb to the dry light, the persistent gravity pulls at the little lashes, and they become like lead poles, exerting their force over my eyes, and blackness creeps in as the fatigue slowly grows.

Thank GOD it’s Friday.

Wine is an excellent sedative of the soul.

 

Over the past few years I’ve learned an awful lot about women. And everything I’ve learned is useless. I feel as if I knew more when I was younger and naive and innocent. My mind couldn’t comprehend the alternative of love, which is loss and distance and separation.

I’m pretty sure relationships fail because people don’t need each other. Yes. Need. I believe at a certain level love is needing someone. It’s not pathetic or sorry, it’s the most potent desire we can produce.

Good luck finding a fulfilling relationship when you don’t need the other person. What the hell is a relationship if we’re not depending on them? Simply convenience? What’s keepin’ them together? Especially when it gets inconvenient?

I would say most women I meet are damaged, but that would imply there’s something inherently wrong with them. And perhaps there is, as I tend to think that many women have been burnt or hurt in the past, and they’ve realized that they don’t want to experience this pain again. But the real damage is done by our  culture which encourages men and women to be strong, to not depend on anyone for anything. People today are taught to be completely self-reliant, monetarily, physically, and even emotionally. They’re little islands. And like little islands, they’re almost unreachable. It takes an act of god for a woman to invite you in for more than a night, onto their island, to bring you into their inner chambers to stay. Most women let you in when it’s convenient for them. When it isn’t, you can forget about getting any emotion outta them. They’ve fortified their vulnerabilities, like impermeable castles with mighty moats, or crabby crustaceans secluded in their little shells.

Most people are damaged, especially the sensitive ones. It sucks. They think they’re being strong by not feeling, by not desiring, by not wanting. I say that’s weak. It takes strength to make yourself vulnerable. And in the event you’re wounded, it takes even more strength to lift yourself up, and even more to do it all over again.

And why on earth would someone want to make themselves vulnerable? Because that is where fulfillment resides. It sucks not knowing the answer, but that’s why we ask the question. It doesn’t make you stupid. Why do you walk into the unknown? To make it known! Why do we put ourselves through struggle and pain to attain a goal? Because the rewards make it worthwhile!

Get out of your comfort zone. Hurt a little. Be bold. Make yourself a little vulnerable. Risk rejection. Every time I do, not only do I feel more alive in the end, I am better for it.

So if I get hurt, so what? It sucks. I cope. I’m better for it. And I feel more alive. I may not get what I want in the end, but at least I know that what’s important to me.

I’m basically writing this to vent.

The abridged story goes something like this…

Boy meets girl. They like each other. Immensely. They’re a lot different. But this is exciting and challenging for the boy.  All is well, and happiness permeates. Months pass. Girl is graduating and moving hours away. Wants to break up. Boy is confused, but doesn’t fight it, although he wants to with everything in his heart. Accepts that this girl really wasn’t that invested, and that he wants someone who believes in, and is committed to, the power of love, and she doesn’t. One year later. Boy still finds himself thinking about girl. Calls her when she wanders into his thoughts and dreams. They begin talking more frequently. Girl suggests seeing each-other. Boy is surprised, but delighted. When they meet again. Boy is enamored all over again. They make it a point to see each other as often as possible. One weekend they planned to see each other, but girl gets sick and goes to the hospital. Boy wants to see girl, but is overwhelmed by what to do. Drive five hours to see girl? Will she want to see him?  Asks girl if she’d like him to visit her. Girl says it doesn’t matter, do what you want. Boy wants to see her, but feels unwanted and burdensome. Boy thinks about her all weekend. Next week girl is distant with every conversation. Boy asks if everything is fine, girl says everything is great. Days go by, boy notices girls flat affect. Tries sympathizing with girl, acknowledging that distance is tough. Girl agrees, and asks what to do about it. Suggests they go separate ways. Boy is floored and speechless. Doesn’t know what else to do but agree.  Boys heart is ripped out. Girl goes to China for two weeks. Boy loses phone for a month. Boy tries reaching out to girl via messages. Girl is barely responsive. Boy gets phone, contacts girl. Girl is busy. Boy wrestles with what to do. Gets girl on the phone, explains that he can’t just let her go. Girl says sorry, she has no more feelings for him. Boy is hurt, but expected such a response. Girl doesn’t need anyone. Life is fine without boy. Doesn’t need him in her life. Boy believes if he really loves her, he needs to fight for her, not simply let her slip away. Girl is stolid and unaffected by boys sincere apologies and pleas. She needs no one but her friends and her job. She convinces boy that there’s no use trying to resuscitate her feelings, cause they’re completely gone.  Boy is disappointed by her unemotional response, but his decision to love her despite her lack of feelings endures. Asks girl why. Girl says boy blew it. Shoulda went to see her in the hospital. Shouldn’t have agreed with her decision to break it off.  Boy suspected that was why, but believes those are sad reasons.

Two people trying to be independent is bound to fail, and any relationship that does exist is mere convenience. Love is inconvenient.  Eventually boy recognizes his attempts to get some kind of feeling out of the girl is futile. Is okay loving her, and is okay with her rejection. Acknowledges her response not as a lack of feeling, but a lack of commitment.

Now, I have to believe that this girl, like most girls, is pretty damaged. What on earth would cause someone to go from feeling so intensely and passionately to feeling nothing at all? When I do something like that, it’s usually a protective response. What kicked off her emotional vapidity? I apparently hurt this girl. But she didn’t feel it necessary to communicate her hurt with me. As a man, I’m suppose to read minds. I forgot. I suppose I was treating her like a friend, rather than a lover.

Anyway. She said she will never need someone. I thought to myself, wow. That sounds like me. Is that how I sound? And I suddenly became disappointed with myself. What is a relationship if there is no dependence?

I don’t need a job, or need a hobby, or need a friend, or need to do well in school. I choose a goal, and if I am to accomplish that goal, then those are reliable steps for achievement. Your success is predicated upon a commitment to certain goals. If you’re goal is to be in a relationship, you need to be committed to it. Commitment is necessary for success, to see it through till completion.

If you have two perfectly independent people, why the hell should they continue being together? What is causing them to stay together? Nothing!

So what is needed for two independent people to remain together in the face of adversity? Committment! That is the common bond that links their stubborn souls together.

I think I like the independent ones. The needy ones drive me away, but there’s a proper balance. Shit. Relationships are give and take.

Anyway. Half of me wants to pursue her. The other half of me is glad no more time is wasted. What kind of girl gives up that easily? For someone being so committed to academic and professional goals, there’s certainly not much room left for committing to a relationship, to another person.

“I’m young, I’ve got a lot of exploring to do, life to live; and I don’t know what I want, I’m just figuring it out as I go along,” She says. Okay, I think to myself. Perhaps now isn’t the right time. Perhaps I’m just not right for you. But I want her to ask herself, when is it going to be the right time? Who is going to be right for you? Perhaps you know when it’s going to be the right time, but honestly, I think that only works when you know what you’re looking for, and it doesn’t appear she does.

I think she’ll be lonely for a long while. I believe until she realizes vulnerability is apart of love and relationships, she’ll continue floating along, pursuing her goals, alone. Or perhaps she’ll come to her senses with her next relationship, and perhaps they will flourish together. If the problem was with me, I can see that happening. But if the problem was with her, she’s gonna need to take care of that before she makes any progress.

Sure, friends are nice. A career is nice. But at the end of the night, you can’t share your deepest vulnerabilities with your career. And your friends are going to be there, until they have their boyfriends and their families. Then you’re just that man or woman in their mid thirties with a decent career, nice savings, live with a few pets in a single condo, drinking wine and watching sappy romance movies about the love she was too scared to accept.

So my attitude this whole time has been two fold. On one hand, I was treating this relationship as something real and genuine. I allowed myself to become emotionally invested sheerly because I’ve grown tired of being scared and timid in the name of love and relationships. I’ve been emotionally absent in nearly all my relationships. Why did I change my attitude? Well, I just decided that I can always look for greener pasteurs, always look for the girl who won’t hurt me, but I realized there are no greener pastures cause I’m the one sowing those fields, and anyone I care about will by definition cause me to be vulnerable.

And I guess on the other hand, I’ve been looking at this relationship as something loaded with uncertainty. I was aware this girl was capable of shutting off and shutting down without any reasonable or justifiable reason. So that kept me guarded. And quite frankly, we weren’t completely utterly compatible. That shouldn’t matter, but I recognized that I’ve been with many girls that were easier to get a long with. Additionally, I considered the fact that she wasn’t the most beautiful girl I’ve ever been with. Are there more attractive girls out there? You bet. Plenty. She wasn’t breathtaking. And frankly, she wasn’t terribly stimulating. She was smart and sharp, but not exactly the most interesting person in the world. She lived a very sheltered life by most standards. She was the kind of girl that colored in the lines, that played by the rules, that preferred to play it safe and be secure. I wouldn’t say she was a risk taker. Vanilla is the word. (Can you tell I’m hurt?)

So why did I like this girl? Well, I was attracted to her. For whatever reason, the chemistry undeniably surged when I was with her. Maybe her rigid, calculated demeanor provided a pleasant contrast to the tumultuous realities I entertained day in and day out? I liked her reliability, her predictability. It was comforting. And honestly, there was something pure and innocent to her little world. I cherished moments with her, all moments. She was joy incarnated.

To be honest, I would look into her eyes, and I would see nothing but love. My heart stopped each time I probed those dark circular depths. I miss her eyes. Her body. Her smile. Her laugh. Her conversation. Damn it all.

Anyway. I think she basically gave up, again. The first time around she clearly gave up. Now it’s clearer than ever. What am I suppose to do? Do I chase? Do I pursue? Do I remain persistent? God knows I want to. What’s stopping me? I suppose I envision myself as one of those pathetic ex-boyfriends that girls talk about, the ones they’re disgusted with, simply over. They talk to others about them like they’re a parasitic sore that just won’t go away. Now, who the hell knows how these girls really feel. They probably love the attention. But these girls milk it, and the poor sap ends up groveling, loses self-respect, and fails to get what he wants in the end.

Do I just move on? Do I find other fish in the sea? Finding girlfriends have never been a tremendous obstacle of mine. I pretty much decide when I want a girlfriend and decide to do what it takes to make them mine. I could take the approach by many males and simple view women as nothing more than sex objects to be manipulated for gratification. There’s plenty of opportunities to pick up girls and bang out hot sensual sex. I admit, this is fun and exciting. But it’s not enduring. And I never feel any better for it; at the end of the day I have no one to care for, to grow with, who’s there when it matters.

So I don’t want to continue cycling through girls. I want to find someone to commit to, a relationship to foster,  like a fire that requires stoking, that requires gentle care to keep the flame alive, to keep you warm, with passion that licks you with pleasure and pain.

So, man. I’m a little upset with this girl. She gave up. So sad. I thought she was a fighter. But I forgot she likes predictability, a sure thing. and in her little world, the only thing she’s sure about is herself. Apparently I’ve failed to meet her needs in that area. Risk? ha. She prefers tried and true, slow and steady. I should have suspected I would run into problems.

But where did I go wrong? Well, in hindsight, I didn’t. My guarded approach appears justifiable by every measure. But then again, when I ask myself what I really want, it certainly isn’t to be “hurt free”. What I really want is a committed companion to love and enjoy life with, that inspires me to grow and think and feel more.  So that’s why I decided to come to my senses and reinitiate contact with this girl, cause I actually do love her. It’s not rational, so don’t ask me why her, or what hers her worth it, or what she has that other girls don’t have, because my answers would be sincere, but utterly cliche. Why does a mother love her child? The little parasitic beast distorted her body, wrecked havoc on her hormones and psychology, then leaches off her for another dozen and a half years. Why love a child? Well, you could say it’s a physiological reaction. But I would say that all that pain makes the love for that child all the more meaningful and worthwhile.

And I believe all relationships function the same way. And anything of value.

So, where does that leave me?

Perhaps this girl never valued me, let alone loved me. What’s my response to that? I suppose I’d rather that be the case then finding out she loved me, yet kept herself from doing anything about it. It’s certainly possible that she simply stopped liking me. Is that so bad? I mean, if we accept ourselves as autonomous creatures, we’re allowed to feel however and whenever and whatever we want, even if other people don’t like it. So, I’m okay with it. How could I be upset with her?

And so…

Life goes on.

I’d rather dare to fail than fail to live, ya know?

And I think about how many people never really live.

Am I alive?

Over the past few years I’ve learned an awful lot about women. And everything I’ve learned is useless. I feel as if I knew more when I was younger and naive and innocent. My mind couldn’t comprehend the alternative of love, which is loss and distance and separation.

I’m pretty sure relationships fail because people don’t need each other. Yes. Need. I believe at a certain level love is needing someone. It’s not pathetic or sorry, it’s the most potent desire we can produce.

Good luck finding a fulfilling relationship when you don’t need the other person. What the hell is a relationship if we’re not depending on them? Simply convenience? What’s keepin’ them together? Especially when it gets inconvenient?

I would say most women I meet are damaged, but that would imply there’s something inherently wrong with them. And perhaps there is, as I tend to think that many women have been burnt or hurt in the past, and they’ve realized that they don’t want to experience this pain again. But the real damage is done by our  culture which encourages men and women to be strong, to not depend on anyone for anything. People today are taught to be completely self-reliant, monetarily, physically, and even emotionally. They’re little islands. And like little islands, they’re almost unreachable. It takes an act of god for a woman to invite you in for more than a night, onto their island, to bring you into their inner chambers to stay. Most women let you in when it’s convenient for them. When it isn’t, you can forget about getting any emotion outta them. They’ve fortified their vulnerabilities, like impermeable castles with mighty moats, or crabby crustaceans secluded in their little shells.

Most people are damaged, especially the sensitive ones. It sucks. They think they’re being strong by not feeling, by not desiring, by not wanting. I say that’s weak. It takes strength to make yourself vulnerable. And in the event you’re wounded, it takes even more strength to lift yourself up, and even more to do it all over again.

And why on earth would someone want to make themselves vulnerable? Because that is where fulfillment resides. It sucks not knowing the answer, but that’s why we ask the question. It doesn’t make you stupid. Why do you walk into the unknown? To make it known! Why do we put ourselves through struggle and pain to attain a goal? Because the rewards make it worthwhile!

Get out of your comfort zone. Hurt a little. Be bold. Make yourself a little vulnerable. Risk rejection. Every time I do, not only do I feel more alive in the end, I am better for it.

So if I get hurt, so what? It sucks. I cope. I’m better for it. And I feel more alive. I may not get what I want in the end, but at least I know that what’s important to me.

I’m basically writing this to vent.

The abridged story goes something like this…

Boy meets girl. They like each other. Immensely. They’re a lot different. But this is exciting and challenging for the boy.  All is well, and happiness permeates. Months pass. Girl is graduating and moving hours away. Wants to break up. Boy is confused, but doesn’t fight it, although he wants to with everything in his heart. Accepts that this girl really wasn’t that invested, and that he wants someone who believes in, and is committed to, the power of love, and she doesn’t. One year later. Boy still finds himself thinking about girl. Calls her when she wanders into his thoughts and dreams. They begin talking more frequently. Girl suggests seeing each-other. Boy is surprised, but delighted. When they meet again. Boy is enamored all over again. They make it a point to see each other as often as possible. One weekend they planned to see each other, but girl gets sick and goes to the hospital. Boy wants to see girl, but is overwhelmed by what to do. Drive five hours to see girl? Will she want to see him?  Asks girl if she’d like him to visit her. Girl says it doesn’t matter, do what you want. Boy wants to see her, but feels unwanted and burdensome. Boy thinks about her all weekend. Next week girl is distant with every conversation. Boy asks if everything is fine, girl says everything is great. Days go by, boy notices girls flat affect. Tries sympathizing with girl, acknowledging that distance is tough. Girl agrees, and asks what to do about it. Suggests they go separate ways. Boy is floored and speechless. Doesn’t know what else to do but agree.  Boys heart is ripped out. Girl goes to China for two weeks. Boy loses phone for a month. Boy tries reaching out to girl via messages. Girl is barely responsive. Boy gets phone, contacts girl. Girl is busy. Boy wrestles with what to do. Gets girl on the phone, explains that he can’t just let her go. Girl says sorry, she has no more feelings for him. Boy is hurt, but expected such a response. Girl doesn’t need anyone. Life is fine without boy. Doesn’t need him in her life. Boy believes if he really loves her, he needs to fight for her, not simply let her slip away. Girl is stolid and unaffected by boys sincere apologies and pleas. She needs no one but her friends and her job. She convinces boy that there’s no use trying to resuscitate her feelings, cause they’re completely gone.  Boy is disappointed by her unemotional response, but his decision to love her despite her lack of feelings endures. Asks girl why. Girl says boy blew it. Shoulda went to see her in the hospital. Shouldn’t have agreed with her decision to break it off.  Boy suspected that was why, but believes those are sad reasons.

Two people trying to be independent is bound to fail, and any relationship that does exist is mere convenience. Love is inconvenient.  Eventually boy recognizes his attempts to get some kind of feeling out of the girl is futile. Is okay loving her, and is okay with her rejection. Acknowledges her response not as a lack of feeling, but a lack of commitment.

Now, I have to believe that this girl, like most girls, is pretty damaged. What on earth would cause someone to go from feeling so intensely and passionately to feeling nothing at all? When I do something like that, it’s usually a protective response. What kicked off her emotional vapidity? I apparently hurt this girl. But she didn’t feel it necessary to communicate her hurt with me. As a man, I’m suppose to read minds. I forgot. I suppose I was treating her like a friend, rather than a lover.

Anyway. She said she will never need someone. I thought to myself, wow. That sounds like me. Is that how I sound? And I suddenly became disappointed with myself. What is a relationship if there is no dependence?

I don’t need a job, or need a hobby, or need a friend, or need to do well in school. I choose a goal, and if I am to accomplish that goal, then those are reliable steps for achievement. Your success is predicated upon a commitment to certain goals. If you’re goal is to be in a relationship, you need to be committed to it. Commitment is necessary for success, to see it through till completion.

If you have two perfectly independent people, why the hell should they continue being together? What is causing them to stay together? Nothing!

So what is needed for two independent people to remain together in the face of adversity? Committment! That is the common bond that links their stubborn souls together.

I think I like the independent ones. The needy ones drive me away, but there’s a proper balance. Shit. Relationships are give and take.

Anyway. Half of me wants to pursue her. The other half of me is glad no more time is wasted. What kind of girl gives up that easily? For someone being so committed to academic and professional goals, there’s certainly not much room left for committing to a relationship, to another person.

“I’m young, I’ve got a lot of exploring to do, life to live; and I don’t know what I want, I’m just figuring it out as I go along,” She says. Okay, I think to myself. Perhaps now isn’t the right time. Perhaps I’m just not right for you. But I want her to ask herself, when is it going to be the right time? Who is going to be right for you? Perhaps you know when it’s going to be the right time, but honestly, I think that only works when you know what you’re looking for, and it doesn’t appear she does.

I think she’ll be lonely for a long while. I believe until she realizes vulnerability is apart of love and relationships, she’ll continue floating along, pursuing her goals, alone. Or perhaps she’ll come to her senses with her next relationship, and perhaps they will flourish together. If the problem was with me, I can see that happening. But if the problem was with her, she’s gonna need to take care of that before she makes any progress.

Sure, friends are nice. A career is nice. But at the end of the night, you can’t share your deepest vulnerabilities with your career. And your friends are going to be there, until they have their boyfriends and their families. Then you’re just that man or woman in their mid thirties with a decent career, nice savings, live with a few pets in a single condo, drinking wine and watching sappy romance movies about the love she was too scared to accept.

So my attitude this whole time has been two fold. On one hand, I was treating this relationship as something real and genuine. I allowed myself to become emotionally invested sheerly because I’ve grown tired of being scared and timid in the name of love and relationships. I’ve been emotionally absent in nearly all my relationships. Why did I change my attitude? Well, I just decided that I can always look for greener pasteurs, always look for the girl who won’t hurt me, but I realized there are no greener pastures cause I’m the one sowing those fields, and anyone I care about will by definition cause me to be vulnerable.

And I guess on the other hand, I’ve been looking at this relationship as something loaded with uncertainty. I was aware this girl was capable of shutting off and shutting down without any reasonable or justifiable reason. So that kept me guarded.

So why did I like this girl? Well, I was attracted to her. For whatever reason, the chemistry undeniably surged when I was with her. Maybe her rigid, calculated demeanor provided a pleasant contrast to the tumultuous realities I entertained day in and day out? I liked her reliability, her predictability. It was comforting. And honestly, there was something pure and innocent to her little world. I cherished moments with her, all moments. She was joy incarnated.

To be honest, I would look into her eyes, and I would see nothing but love. My heart stopped each time I probed those dark circular depths. I miss her eyes. Her body. Her smile. Her laugh. Her conversation. Damn it all.

Anyway. I think she basically gave up, again. The first time around she clearly gave up. Now it’s clearer than ever. What am I suppose to do? Do I chase? Do I pursue? Do I remain persistent? God knows I want to. What’s stopping me? I suppose I envision myself as one of those pathetic ex-boyfriends that girls talk about, the ones they’re disgusted with, simply over. They talk to others about them like they’re a parasitic sore that just won’t go away. Now, who the hell knows how these girls really feel. They probably love the attention. But these girls milk it, and the poor sap ends up groveling, loses self-respect, and fails to get what he wants in the end.

Do I just move on? Do I find other fish in the sea? Finding girlfriends have never been a tremendous obstacle of mine. I pretty much decide when I want a girlfriend and decide to do what it takes to make them mine. I could take the approach by many males and simple view women as nothing more than sex objects to be manipulated for gratification. There’s plenty of opportunities to pick up girls and bang out hot sensual sex. I admit, this is fun and exciting. But it’s not enduring. And I never feel any better for it; at the end of the day I have no one to care for, to grow with, who’s there when it matters.

So I don’t want to continue cycling through girls. I want to find someone to commit to, a relationship to foster,  like a fire that requires stoking, that requires gentle care to keep the flame alive, to keep you warm, with passion that licks you with pleasure and pain.

So, man. I’m a really upset with this girl. She gave up. So sad. I thought she was a fighter. But I forgot she likes predictability, a sure thing. and in her little world, the only thing she’s sure about is herself. Apparently I’ve failed to meet her needs in that area. Risk? ha. She prefers tried and true, slow and steady. I should have suspected I would run into problems.

But where did I go wrong? Well, in hindsight, I didn’t. My guarded approach appears justifiable by every measure. But then again, when I ask myself what I really want, it certainly isn’t to be “hurt free”. What I really want is a committed companion to love and enjoy life with, that inspires me to grow and think and feel more.  So that’s why I decided to come to my senses and reinitiate contact with this girl, cause I actually do love her. It’s not rational, so don’t ask me why her, or what hers her worth it, or what she has that other girls don’t have, because my answers would be sincere, but utterly cliche. Why does a mother love her child? The little parasitic beast distorted her body, wrecked havoc on her hormones and psychology, then leaches off her for another dozen and a half years. Why love a child? Well, you could say it’s a physiological reaction. But I would say that all that pain makes the love for that child all the more meaningful and worthwhile.

And I believe all relationships function the same way. And anything of value.

So, where does that leave me?

Perhaps this girl never valued me, let alone loved me. What’s my response to that? I suppose I’d rather that be the case then finding out she loved me, yet kept herself from doing anything about it. It’s certainly possible that she simply stopped liking me. Is that so bad? I mean, if we accept ourselves as autonomous creatures, we’re allowed to feel however and whenever and whatever we want, even if other people don’t like it. So, I’m okay with it. How could I be upset with her?

And so…

I love her. But

Life goes on.

Stop chasing and start attracting.

If you want to pull with the weight of the world, you need to magnify the mass within you.  Become weightier, fuller, larger, on the inside.

No more chasing visions of the future, grasping dreams with imaginings.

Man is all or nothing. Do not ask me if it is enough. It is never enough. Can you feel enough? Can you experience enough? Think enough? Is it real enough? Smart enough? Creative enough? There is no enough. Don’t judge my ambitions to feel more, to be more. Maybe the weight of such a task leaves me hobbling. So long as I move, so be it.

Anyway. I’ve been applying for jobs. My current job is fine, but I want more. There’s nothing holding me back. I want the opportunity to dominate, to work hard and create real value. I’ve got about a dozen interviews lined up within the next three weeks. Crazy.

It’s not how you start: it’s how you finish. Life is a marathon. You are the sum of every day you worked toward your goal. It’s about steps. Every step leaves you closer. What really matters, afterall? I refuse to count myself out, ever.

Everything is an illusion. We buy into an illusion to create reality. I can bend reality by bending my illusions, by comporting by will to whatever illusion creates the grandest spectacle for people to revere.

The ego is our greatest salvation, and also our greatest flaw. Positive illusions occur when we’re optimistic. We posit beliefs and stitch them together with our rosy intentions. There is nothing making them real.

I submit a resume. I learn skills. Everything is vocabulary. I can talk the talk. I can walk the walk.

Reads from the bottom up. Typical dialog within the family. The older I get, the more outspoken I become. 

Me:

Father,

I hate to say it, cause it can be offensive to someone so emotionally invested, but you’re in a cult. Religion is a cult.. You’re sooooo far deep, you’re psyche is almost unsalvageable. Your humanity has been reduced to metaphysical babble about supernatural divination. Any book possesses utility for those who subscribe to it because It creates uniformity among the psychologies of its members. But the moment a person forfeits their own ability to coin meaning for themselves, they are trapped and stuck in a prescribed box that limits their ability to see possibility beyond the herd they identify with. They become fearful and scared. I admit. I am scared of other boxes besides my own. I prefer to be an individual, to reject convention, but social integration requires that I adopt the values of my peers to function. You do it. I do it. But I don’t pretend that my values are static and absolute. I acknowledge the fallibility of my perspective and experience and the necessity of adapting to an ever changing world.

Anyway. You scare me sometimes. Actually, all the time. Religion is scary. I don’t prejudice against any one religion, or cult. They are all tyrannies of the hearts and minds of men. Whether it’s a benevolent or malevolent tyranny at any one time doesn’t matter.

I just want to tell you that if you didn’t believe, didn’t buy into this dangerous, antiquated dogma, the sun and moon and stars would remain in motion, the natural world would continue along just as it always has, you will not spontaneously burst into flames. You would not become morally corrupt, since morals, afterall, are the instinct of the herd, and I’m pretty sure your instincts will continue along just as they always have. You might have an existential crisis: the weight of responsibility for yourself, and being dependent on no one, is jarring when you’ve been subservient to external authority for so long.

There is no one Christian standard. There is no absolute value. There are always exceptions.

Religion’s sole mission, like any institution that serves to enculturate and socialize its members in an attempt to create a uniform world view, is to reduce cognitive dissonance and create coherency of experience. We appeal to others for information and we need to know that they possess the same value system as us if we are to communicate effectively and efficiently. Cognitive dissonance is man’s existential paradox.

As the world changes, a man must change his mind. But this is the hardest thing of all.

Regardless of the origin of your values, you’re American and have been socialized by many of the values that have influenced me. So long as that continues being the case, I have no doubt we’ll have the ability to communicate and relate on some level.

And you’re my father, so I owe you my life. No amount of conflicting values would prevent me from wanting to reach a compromise. Nothing I believe in is worth losing my family.

Love you always,

XXX

My Father:
XXX,

I am really surprised by your comment below…Yes, it can be difficult to be objective when a person from one generation looks at a younger generation and sees the changes as a negative…

We all have our worldview, including you…It’s funny how you can judge and label us as being “old”…”Old people always…”. How is it that you are immune to your own bias and subjectivity as a young person who doesn’t know what you don’t know?

I agree, the ills that we see in our society are not new to humanity…quite the contrary, the ills we see can be traced back to to the begining…back to our sinful nature and rebelliousness towards God…However, the ills that we see are increasing in the United States of America. From where we started, we are on a downward spiral. Yes, we have always had sin and rebellion, even in the USA…But sin has certainly increased in our country…We are reaping what we have been sowing for many years…

I believe we do have the ability to objectively measure our progress or decline…However, it depends on the standards that we use. For example, how do you define “Glory Days” and “no better days”…In order to make a judgement, you must have a standard. What standard do you use? I presume a standard that you have created in your own mind…

Could it be that the real difference between your “younger view” and our “older view” is the standards that we use to judge the condition of our society?

1. The younger generations are atheistic…You have rejected God altogether…You believe in evolution, a complete fairy-tail. You have created your own gods by worshiping creation…

2. Rather than worship God, the younger generations worship yourselves, other people, and a whole host of other created things..”claiming to be wise, you have become fools, and exchanged the glory of God for images resembling mortal man and animals…”

3. Your younger generations use the words “God” and “Jesus Christ” as curse words…rather that sacred words reserved for the creator of the universe…

4. Younger generations give no thought to going to church…They believe “organized religion” is evil…But, hanging out in a bar, getting drunk, getting high and getting laid, are all ok…”organized sin” is just fine with your younger generations…

5. The younger generations do not know what it means to honor your mother and father…This concept is foreign to you…Parents exist to spoil and provide for your every want. Parents are givers, and the children are the takers…The word “honor” has lost it’s meaning in the younger generations…

6. The younger generations places very little value on human life…They abort more babies, murder their parents, murder family members, and kill for kicks…after all, they are simply the a result of random, purposeless, accidental mutations over billions of years…there is no such thing as “meaning” and “purpose”, these are simply “man-made constructs”…Those terms are undefinable in a Godless, evolutionary, naturalistic, universe…

7. The younger generations think nothing of sex outside of marriage, having sex with multiple partners, homosexuality, and other deviant behaviors. It’s all about giving yourself pleasure…It’s all about “me” and what “I” can get from “you”…Marriage is “just a piece of paper” to the “enlightened” younger generations…Love is a feeling, love is lust. “Commitment” means I will do something until I change my mind”…

8. Your generations thinks nothing of stealing, Whether it’s justified or not…Theft in all it’s forms are ok…as long as you have what I want, I can take it from you…

9. Your younger generations have no problem lying…Telling the truth is for “old people”…Truth is relative anyway…why be concerned with telling the truth when you can lie and get what you want…It’s all about me…

10. Your younger generations want to do the least, and still have everything that their neighbor has…They want the easy life, want what everyone else wants, has no idea what hard work or sacrifice means, but they do want a nice car, cable tv, all the partying they can fit into a week, the best clothes, the latest electronic gadgets…and anything else that fancies their eyes…But they have no idea how to work, produce, add value, and sacrifice…

The sad truth is that we “the older generation”, although we knew the 10 Commandments and tried to live by them, we have failed to teach our children to fear God and have failed to teach our children the importance of obeying the 10 Commandments…We have compromised, forsaken our God, and are solely responsible for raising a pleasure seeking, God-hating generation…The law of reaping and sowing is at play…and there can be no finger pointing…

We all must repent, turn away from our sin and rebelliousness, fear God, and throw ourselves at the foot of the cross, beg for mercy and grace, and place our faith in Jesus Christ our redeemer and Savior…

My prayer is that you will come to your senses, humble yourself, acknowledge your sin, repent, and put your faith in Jesus Christ, who is your only hope…Nothing else in this empty, satanic world can save you…

With a love that can only come from God…
Love, Dad

Me: 
You sound like you’re getting old… old people always think they’re generation was somehow better, or more upstanding. There were no glory days, no better days. Those days are a fiction. You know the song??? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCWdCKPtnYE

Life is about attitude. There will always be poor, always be depravity, always destitution. It comes and goes, but it always lingers. On the same token, the will always be love and kindness and caring. We’re the most socially conscious and educated generation that has ever lived.

Anyway ❤

My mother: 
This is awful….

http://www.prophecynewswatch.com/2012/September13/134.html#.UGD7Gol5mc1

The happier I am, the less I write. Happiness is dumb, and dead. I prefer feeling the weight of mind, body, and soul crushing meaning in my bones. I will bear the burden, and scratch it out of me so that others don’t have to. I am, after all, not alone with this disease.

Let me roll a black river onto dry beds of organic mash. Scribble and scrawl. Hatch meaning with my sword as I plunge it deep into the folds of your heart.

“Just because I liked something at one point in time doesn’t mean I’ll always like it, or that I have to go on liking it at all points in time as an unthinking act of loyalty to who I am as a person, based solely on who I was as a person. To be loyal to myself is to allow myself to grow and change, and challenge who I am and what I think. The only thing I am for sure is unsure, and this means I’m growing, and not stagnant or shrinking.”
— Jarod Kintz

Dilation of events. Keeps me round. Robust. Not here. Not here, escape:

I’m done thinking. I just want to do. I’ve said it before, but this time I have a different perspective.

I don’t care about adapting. I want the world to adapt to me. That, my friends, is the key. There are singular people, singular institutions, singular texts that we all adapt to, that never flinch to us. We should take pains to stand straight and erect and never compromise.

I refuse to compromise. Adaptation? False. I prefer the world bends to my will.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable.”
—Rosemarie Urquico, Date a Girl Who Reads

 

My kinda girl. Where are you, girl?

 

Concepts are like buildings of the mind. Each building houses ideas, and these ideas are apart of communities. When you write ideas down, you essentially map them out.

The problem is that buildings need maintenance. The environment is always changing, always weathering the building, putting wear and tear on it. Repairs must be made to ensure the building is holding up to the ever changing environmental demands.

Just as a map gets outdated, so too do concepts. Maps need to be able to reflect the geography accurately. If geography is constantly changing, the map will become outdated and ineffective. Directions won’t lead us to the destination we’re looking for, or produce the result we expect.

It’s important to toss out the old if you want to bring in something new. Old buildings need to be torn down to make room for innovations and improvements. Old maps need to be discarded and new maps made to reflect new concepts, the new geography of the mind.

Breath the lush summer breeze, milk summers fading light, spoil its retreat with laughter tonight?
Has time afforded you the benefit of borrowing an hour, to steal what serenity is left till the morrow?

The ache that resides within my chest will be lifted when the drinks commence!
Your company is all need to restore my mirth and remedy;
So speed your fowl intake, get your fill, then lift your spirits and prepare for thrill!

The castles where dreams sleep have been floating by, perched in those white worlds that blot the sky, and I have admired from afar, wondering if dreams greet those who ask for more.

There is a machine, called culture. It begins with rules, and laws, and expectations. They rob you of yourself. Survival is predicated upon fulfilling these predetermined roles, for utility sake. We say, why reinvent the wheel? And I say, because the tire is better, because bearings are quicker, because we’re not reinventing geometry, the circle, we’re clarifying the circle, this fiction of the mind, into reality.

We are apart of a machine, we are not free. I am a slave.

Like a patient partially anesthetized on the table, I am awake for this surgery of the soul. My eyes have freed themselves from the tape holding them shut from this horrific spectacle. And I can see the doctors clearly in my periphery. I cannot move. I must bear the pain and watch them harvest what small piece of humanity I have left within me. Sometimes they gouge and gorge, other times they use precision cuts to pull this organ from me, this disease, as they call it, this disease called individuality, plaguing thinkers.

So… not much going on. Work work work. And allergy attacks. And work.

Does Match.com work? I mean, do you really end up finding someone compatible for you? A guy from my work, who’s 26, met his soon to be wife on match.com. She just so happens to be a doctor at Vandy, and their wedding is next week. Funny, huh?

I need a social life. Work Gym Eat Sleep. The weekends provide a narrow escape, but even those adventures are becoming routinized. I love life. Is that alright? When’s a good time to “want” to settle down? My motorcycle is in the shop again… should have it out in another month or two. I can’t wait to go on weekend roadtrips, by myself, to forests, and camp. Oh yes. I’m doing these things. Call them escapes. I call them wanderlust: the yearning for travel. But fiscal constraints need to be accounted for, so no long term flights just yet.

I was thinking of becoming politically active. I’ve always had an interest in politics, though not because of the rhetoric or the manipulation and pandering. It’s been a desire to contribute what sense I’ve wrought from my experience where I can, and politics is just a single outlet to do that.

My paradigm is shifting. I can sense the foundations beginning to vibrate and move beneath me, a reframing of values is taking place, a reorientation that will be much more accommodating to my new lifestyle, one that doesn’t fight the inevitable and push against the structures that I’ll need to learn to depend on.

I’ve had the pleasant surprise of learning that one of my room mates is a drug addict. Oh yes. Such a nice surprise! To be living with an opiate and meth addict? I can’t think of too many things greater! 😡

But honestly, his 128 hour insomniac bouts of mania are wearing on me. Troves of people visit at all hours, and stay for days. He’ll be up for a longgg time, then crash on the couch like a fetid log and sleep for 24 to 72 hours straight, virtually motionless within this time frame, with a fan blowing on his ammonia smelling body.

I conversed with the other roommates who’ve voiced similar horror and distaste for these things, and they’re planning on moving out, as I am. The guys nice, real nice, when he isn’t tweaking out from lack of sleep. His paranoid delusions are what really wear on you. He’ll clean the house a million times, over and over again, or work on dozens of trivial projects, like rearranging furniture or buying random mirrors and what not. Then he’ll freak out and sit us all down and explain that he can’t take our laziness, that the house is a complete mess and all he ever does is clean up after us. And we stare on with a dull look in our eyes, unamused, yet the situation is laughable. But I’m over it. I really, really don’t need this crap in my life. The house is amazing, the neighborhood is great, and I like the other roommates a whole lot, but I can’t go being subjected to his mood swings and threats and manic episodes. I suppose I could ignore it, but why the hell should I even have to tip-toe around the issue? Anyway.

I weigh 205lbs. I’m looking soft, but I’m stronger than ever. I’ve planned to do a anabolic cycle the next 10-15 weeks. That should jump start my gains. We’ll see. Still working out a few kinks with the PCT. I’ll have to get all my ancillary gear sorted out before I begin anything.

Other than that… what the hell am I doing with my life? Lifting is a nice project. I haven’t been writing, or reading, nearly as much as I have been the past several years. Come to think of it, I’ve been on a reading binge the past couple years, and its finally slowed down, almost to a halt. It’s like all the sudden all my accumulated knowledge is pointless self-masturbation, no one cares, and its not getting me any closer to the truth, cause the truth is: working for someone else seems to be one of the few options when you’re loaded up with student debt. Or perhaps I’m not being imaginative enough. What am I waiting for?

I’m been having severe mood swings myself. I wasn’t sure if it was cause of subjecting myself to my roommates drug problem and all his druggy whores and friends he brings over for days at a time… or just me coming to grips with the fact that life is no longer an adventure, but a trudge. A long journey of pounding the ground until time elapses and goals are achieved. But I need some goals. Actually, I need some goals I believe in. Not someone else’s, not for them or by them.

I’d really like to identify my strengths and pursue something that is honed in on really utilizing my naturally inclined abilities.

Anyway. I’m fighting an ear and sinus infection… allergies have me all clogged up and its been an ideal petri dish for little bacteria in my head. Ugh. When will the sinus pressure stop! I need some topical drugs to alleviate the symptoms.

Other than that… my phone broke. No phone. It’s been gone since Saturday. I have no desire to replace it at the moment. I figured I’ll wait a week. Going without a phone has been liberating… to say the least. We’ll see when I can enough to reconnect with this tangled mass of social media technology.

Bed time.

 

 

Appearances are all that matter, but the ability to control appearances requires cultivating the unseen. It matters a great deal what you show the world, but the  ability to carefully reveal yourself requires much work on the inside first and foremost.

Habits by nature are reflective. If they were not, they would be disrupted. Habits are purely repetitive impulse, cyclical chains of continual causation.

I’m too tired at the end of the day. Sometimes I work with one eye open. At least I’m not Chinese  I need capital. Money. Assets, Resources. Enough so I can incentivize people to work for me, to prod and prattle their imagination with fictitious opportunity.

Drone on. Fuck censorship. The world is rotten, from the inside out, moldy and boring. How boring? I don’t want to talk with you. You’re anal retentive. Boring. No imagination. No inner light. Your eyes no longer shine like they once did in your youth. They have been extinguished, and you have helped. You oppress yourself, you censor. You control.

No passion. No heart. No feeling. Only aches. Pains. Cramps. And nausea.

Hello little bird.
I see you there, tapping at my window.
I love your song,
your dance,
your colors too.
I love everything about you.
But I’m busy now,
keeping time with my books,
working hard to free myself.