I had a bad dream. It was horrible. I dreamt I burnt a school to the ground. Worse, the students, teachers and I included were in the premises. What was the motivation? I don’t know. Why did I do it? I don’t know. The fire was an inferno that burned everyone to their bones. I can still hear the cries of anguish. The cries of torment and hell. The school was locked and razor fences surrounded the perimeter. It was hard to escape, nearly impossible. Everyone was cooped in the boiling pot until it turned to aches. The fire, it was everywhere. I couldn’t breathe and my vision was blurry and tainted. It was a movie in the theatre of my mind. I managed to escape. It the midst of all that chaos, I located a spot that was devoid of razor fencing; instead stood a wall so I climbed over it and made it to another person’s property – following me was a blind person, his life was spared to. Now in a different demarcation we ran towards the gate to escape the chaos. Till we were stopped by a muscular colored guy. He pointed a rifle gun to my head and stated that I was not going anywhere. He told me that he knew that I was the one who had started the fire and let go the blind guy. I was perplexed. How did he know? He said he knew it from his soul. I looked over at the school from the muscular colored’s premises and everyone and everything was burned to a crisp. No survivors. It was like a battlefield that was bombarded with nuclear – it was quiet with no sign of life. The place was dead and unresponsive. It was horrible. I had burned down a place of education, a place of growth and sustainability. I had burned down a place of hope. I burned down knowledge, culture and heritage. I murdered my friends. I murdered my teachers. I robbed people of their potential, their lives. I altered the future for a lot of families. I don’t know why I burned the school. I remember having petrol and matches and I set the school alight. Even in my dreams, I knew the screams of the people who were burning would haunt me forever. That I would have PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and it would change my life forever, that it would hinder me from appreciating all of life. I feared that this incident would scar my mind. Dying would be better. I begged the big colored guy to end my life. However, he didn’t. He just kept the gun on my face and held me hostage. I thought that maybe I should force his hand and try to run; that he would shoot me from behind and end my life, but I was scared of death. So I just stood there with the gun on my face on the one hand and the carnage and destruction on the other. I felt trapped and I woke up.
Why did I do it? Am I bad person? Am I an evil person? What is the difference between bad and evil? Bad is an adjective that describes your nature as a human being. It is straightforward, it is a fact, it is objective, it is the stripes on the zebra, the sun in the sky and the fish in the ocean. While evil has to do with acts of ethics and morality. Evil is premeditated behavior and actions, it is hiding evidence, lying to preserve your way, cheating and murder. A sequence of evil acts make you a bad person. If lying and murder becomes habit, you are a bad person. Evil can be undone with a sequence of good deeds and targeted incentives. Bad is set in stone, it is difficult to redeem if not impossible, it is hopeless with no will of life. It is with this definition that I try to analyze who I am. Surely, an evil act of this magnitude makes me a bad irredeemable person. Bad and rotten to the core. I senselessly murdered thousands in an academic institution – a place of education and self-betterment. I ruined the future of many families. I am just like Josef Stalin who starved his people until death. A narcissistic, egotistical maniac who killed millions in the Soviet Union to conserve his way. Was Lucifer bad or evil? Lucifer was an angel of God, who sang mightily beautiful and he/she committed a big evil act. Lucifer had been good in the past, what if he/she was redeemable. Did God give up on Lucifer? Maybe, I am Lucifer – In my dream I committed a horrendous act of evil, an act that is unforgivable. Am I unworthy of God’s love?
It seems as though if you don’t know who you are, the world and even God is happy to categorize you in box. I think the notion that we are all born sinners is the right one. Simply because inside each and every one of us lurks evil. And if the evil is disproportional to the norms and confines society has constructed you run the risk of being barred. It happened to Lucifer. You have a Lucifer in your soul. It is in this vein that we must approach life intelligently and try to avoid chaos. While chaos is all that defines the structure of existence we must try to instill a bit of order in ourselves. Assume the person you are talking to knows something that you don’t. Listen and don’t make judgements. Approach everyone with respect. Don’t offend the wrong person. Not because you are scared but because you want an orderly life. Insecure fools and idiots roam the streets, motivated by Lucifer in their souls they aim to insight evil. They want to immerse you in petty squabbles. Repressed and unconscious they want to project their powers onto you. The best way to solve such things is to shun them off. Not because you can’t stand up for yourself but because you won’t react. Reacting puts you at a disadvantage because you run the risk of running into a trap that was specially designed for you. You will get them at your own terms, playing by your rules. We are mortal and fragile. A shot to the head might end it all. A knife in the heart might end it all. As people we are all evil, some more evil and others just bad. Consciousness has given us the powers of sympathy and empathy meaning we know how to hurt a fellow human being because we can be hurt too. I struggle with understanding morality, the subject of good and evil because fundamentally I am guilty. Hence, my answer is the life of order. The life of the hero, fundamentally correct because he tries to restore order.
I find the symbolism of the blind guy in my dream who escaped the inferno amazing. The mind is so intelligent. The dream was about my struggle for good and evil and besides me was a blind who was on a journey with me, who abstractly “saw” everything and yet he left undeterred, unharmed, saved. While I was tormented by screams and cries of people burning to their bones. I think the message was clear, “Ignorance is bliss” and it works particularly well in the subject of good, bad and evil. We see this every time on court cases where the defense asks for an insanity plea and it gets granted for a murder committed in cold blood. We see sleep-walking patients butchering their families and walking free in court. Does it mean that idiots, mentally challenged patients and people devoid of sensory abilities are devoid and exempted from morality? Is being ignorant the key to happiness in the world? Is being crazy the key to fulfillment? Is being an idiot, a complete fool the key to bypassing the issues that plague humanity?
I love my husband. He is everything I want and need. He brings so much meaning to my life. We have two wonderful children that I adore. They are my life. By normal standards, I have everything money, safety, security, two perfect children and a loving husband. I should be happy and fulfilled. I have a great career doing something that stimulates my mind, something that I love. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. As of late, my energy is low and I have a problem motivating myself. My life has become bland and insipid. Everything in my life is ritualistic and passive. As a young girl, I thought marriage would give me a happily ever after. Not that I don’t love my husband because I do, he is so perfect and he treats me so well. I honestly don’t know what I would do without him. Still, the question remains. Is this it? Is this my life now? Everything has become chore. The spontaneous life has receded to the past. We don’t have sex that often and when we do I fake orgasms. I wonder if he notices. I doubt it, I’ve been faking for so long that it has become impossible to detect. I have become an expert liar, the moaning’s are now automatic. Not that it’s a bad thing, I have to do it, it reassures him of a good job. To be fair, he sometimes does a great job but it’s in the minority. I remember a time when we used to have sex every day. A time when he drove me crazy. A time when he used to make me come multiple times in a session. A time when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. A time when pleasing him was top of the agenda. A time of imagination, oral examinations and forbidden sex positions. A time of clarity and excitement. When everything made sense. When my life was easy to love and loving myself was easier.
I understand that we have been married for 10 years now and the romantic phase has to die down. That we need to be responsible and competent adults. But it’s not about the sex. It’s not even about my relationship. On the contrary, my relationship with my husband is perfect. We have an understanding and we are both happy with one another. It’s something else. A void. I feel like I am living a lie. I feel like a robot, passively getting work done. At times I am emotionless. I don’t get pleasure out of life anymore. I feel overwhelmed by life. I am confused and it makes me sad. What do you give a woman who has everything? Am I ungrateful? No. However I am close to apathy. My low levels of energy are making it hard for me to participate in life. It’s like my body is in comatose, completely paralyzed by the sadness in my soul. Maybe I am depressed. Maybe depression is a real condition. It wasn’t something I took seriously but how do I explain the apathy I feel? Do I even want to participate in this mindless, passive, repetitive mode we call life? Unfortunately, I have to. For my husband, my children, my family so we can navigate the world successfully. So I will just have to power through and be supermom, do it with great zeal and enthusiasm, with a smile, no one can know how I feel. I imagine it would be hard for my husband and I don’t want to trouble him. I don’t want him to think that his not doing enough because he is. I don’t want him to blame himself for my lack of happiness. Besides, depression is not a real condition. We all have bad days. Maybe, it’s a phase, I’ve just recently turned 30 and the second phase of my life is in commencement. Perhaps, I am in mourning for younger self. I don’t know. I just feel empty and dead inside. Despite the passing time and the orbiting of the planet my life is fixed and stagnant at one point.
I met Steven at his suite for an interview for the newspaper. We used to date when we were in High School, 16 and in love nothing could come between us. He was my first love, the person who made me conscious of this abstract thing call love. He is now a respected member of the socialist party. He is powerful. I can’t wait to meet with him. The newspaper sent me over to cover the story of his alleged infidelity, the story is making rounds in the country and we want to cover his side. It was hard getting him to commit to the story, we had to promise heaven. The chance to put things straight was too good for him to pass up on, we had to appeal to his ego and narcissistic side. The rumours were rouge and good PR was needed to spin the story, at least that’s what his advisors would have advised him. 14:00 struck and I went to his suite to meet up with him. He had grown up and had traces of someone I used to know. Was he the dashing young boy I fell in love with? Of course he was a man now and his attributes screamed that. He was well defined, groomed, trimmed and slim. He looked so good in a suit. He didn’t look at all like the boy who used to fondle with my breasts. We exchanged pleasantries and sat down. We engaged in small talk and were nostalgic about the past before we could get down to business. Our meeting was upbeat and energetic. I felt like I was in the moment. It was as if the world were moving again. We came around to the infidelity and he responded that the news were all false. He told me that it was just a political campaign meant to tarnish his name with the elections around the corner. He knew the alleged woman but not enough to be a lover or even a friend. They just met at two separate public functions and enjoyed each other’s company. He explained that he had no contact with her whatsoever. With that omission, the interview was over and we decided to talk off the record as friends. He asked me if I was happy. Reluctant, I replied yes. I could see it in his eyes that he wasn’t content with my response but he didn’t want to impose himself. He told me that he was not happy. That the pressures of life are getting to him. His work and the need to be exemplary is exhausting. The political games. His life splashed on the newspapers and prime time bulletins like it was entertainment and the constant pressure from his wife who seems to like the benefits that come from being the wife of a highly esteemed and powerful man. To be fair, who wouldn’t? The money, the designer clothes, the parties, the fame, the respect. Who would want to give that away? And for what? Because you’re depressed? That is not a real condition. People are dying in Africa. He told me that he feels trapped in his life that he feels like a slave. That he has lost his passion and most of the time he is just on auto-pilot. There was a silence on the table for a while and then he continued. He said that he recognizes that same sadness in my eyes to which I didn’t respond. I told him that it was a great meeting and that we should meet up again. He agreed. I stood up and he showed me to the door. Just when I was about to go out, I had the sudden urge to kiss him. I kissed him and he seemed to go with it. He passionately pushed my body towards him and held me tightly as he closed the door. We continued kissing and it was so hot and steamy. It was intense and I was so horny. I displaced my lips on his and kissed him on the neck while I took his shirt off. I continued with the kissing process and made my way to the torso. I kneeled down and took off his pants and started giving his oral pleasure. He held my head and controlled the motion of the strokes. The movements started of slow and gradual and then sped up with intensity. He was groaning and I could tell that he was about to climax and I let him come in my mouth – it was intoxicating!
Steven makes me feel like I can fly. He makes me feel like I am free. I have found a new lease of life. Yesterday was exciting. The thrill, the adrenaline rush of being caught out. The irony of the interview we set up. He understands me and how I am feeling. I wonder if he talks to his wife about his concerns and his feelings. I can’t believe I gave him a blow job. On the first day? It was like I was possessed by a love demon who took a hold of my body. When he caressed my breasts something in my head exploded and I was no longer in control. I was listening to a song by Amy Winehouse called Love Is Blind and it dominates how I feel because I relate. In the song Amy is unapologetic about his infidelity. She is ironic and condescending. Her arrogance is admirable. Her justifications are laughable. She’s not really explaining herself to anyone. She is at peace with all the repercussions. On the famous song she states “You are my everything, he means nothing to me. I was thinking about you when I came.” I love the song but don’t agree with the tone of the song. I care for the repercussions. I love my husband, I love my children and I don’t want to lose our family. However, I was thinking about my husband when Steven came in my mouth. The experience helped and I came home later that day rejuvenated. My husband and I made love and I moaned with pure pleasure. He sent me to the moon. Maybe my interaction with him is good for my marriage. I want to see where this will end. He called me today and we agreed to see each other next week at a different hotel. I feel good about it.
We met at the designated hotel. He was so cold and distant. What had sparked his indifferent mood today? Was the world out for his head again? The hypocrisy of hotel rooms. On my way to the room I was in incognito, I had my shades and scarf on despite the fact that it was 36 degrees. Surely, that constitutes as suspicious behaviour. I didn’t think things through, I was too locked up in my own world that I failed to look at things on an objective criteria. The woman in the elevator besides me at 13:00 pm is surely like me. Why conceal myself? Why hide what I came to do in room 424 of this hotel room when everybody knows. The staff surely know, the concierge, the receptionist, I am just another number. We all have the same problems but act like ours is different. While in the room with Steven I think about how amateurish I must have been and vow to do better next time. It didn’t take long for me and Steven to get intimate. He had an aggressive demeanour this time and he went on the offense. He pressed me up against the wall and started kissing me passionately. He started with my neck and then proceeded to the lips while he took off my shirt and bra. Now half naked, I took off my skirt while he also undressed. He carried me to the bed and started kissing and sucking my breasts. It was slow gradual kissing until he made it to my torso. At this time I was overcome with pleasure and I wanted him to go down on me. He took off my panties and turned me around. I was on all fours. I had the stature of a dog, a bitch. In that position, he penetrated me from behind not in my vagina but anus. It was painful and yet pleasurable. It was like walking on hot coal, it burns the flesh but the adrenalin rush is at its peak and telling you to go on. The moans and groans where real emanating from a real place – pain but I didn’t want him to stop. And so he kept pounding and pounding. To keep myself from screaming I put a pillow on my face and then it was done. He signalled that he was coming and I let him come on my breasts. Afterwards, we just laid on the bed for a while. We didn’t engage in a dialogue, the room was quiet. He got up from the bed and started putting on his clothes back. He then made a contribution on how to remove the odour. The advice was that I take a shower first thing when I got home. He also talked about the stains that will undoubtedly make their appearance on my underwear. He seemed like a professional. Did he do this on a regular basis? Am I one of his targets, his victims? I was thoughtful. What happened here wasn’t love. He humiliated me. He objectified me. He violated me and left me with no dignity. I was his slave and he did what he wanted with me. In my mind, I told myself that I wasn’t going to see him again. That it was over. Until, he said “this was fun. We should do this again.” I replied, “yes it was fun and most definitely we should.” I wasn’t lying, I would like to see him again and yes it was fun. It was my first anal experience and of course it was difficult but it was new and fresh. In that moment, I was alive and engaged in the process. Pain notified me that I was present and it felt good. It will be even better next time.
I am in a better mood these days. I wonder if my husband and children have noticed. I wonder if I am exhibiting strange behaviour. I feel like I am on top of the world. I feel in control. I see more colour in my life. Not that I am condoning my adultery but my sex life with my husband is better. Our love-making sessions are reunions that are breath-taking. They are unbelievable. I don’t have to fake orgasms because they are real now. I now have an appetite for sex and so it’s frequent. Before we would have sex twice in a month if we were lucky. Nowadays twice is the minimum requirement for the week. I am sure my husband is suspicious but he doesn’t say anything so it’s fine. Orgasms are a beautiful thing. It’s like an explosive in your body. An explosion of pleasure. Those few seconds are the most meaningful of life. Orgasms bring dimensions and edge to life. Orgasms give meaning to life. I sometimes think of Steven when I have an orgasm with my husband. It’s that Amy Winehouse curse, I am also starting to be unapologetic about my infidelity. It makes the lives of the people all around me better and most importantly I am happy. It has been a month since I have met up with Steven. I know I have to end things with him, he has become an addiction. What we have can’t be right for the immediate people in our lives. What we have is destined to fail. The problem is that I think I love him. I can’t stop thinking about him. He is all I think about. I am conflicted, torn in between. I have this fantasy that I want to explore with him. I plan to tie him up on the bed, get naked and sit on his face until he gives me multiple orgasms. I want to make him my bitch. I want to make him submit. I want to dominate him. My efforts thus far have been insufficient and my plan is in vain. I am meeting him on Thursday at his office and I don’t think that will be possible. This will be the last time I see him, he doesn’t know but I do. I love my family and I can’t carry on risking the life I worked so hard to build.
He told me to get dressed and that his secretary would be here soon. He was pensive and moved with great urgency. I lay naked on the couch and didn’t take him too seriously. What makes our affair great is the danger, the sense that it is forbidden and could damage a lot of lives. That is the pulse that kept everything moving. The chance to live life dangerously. It was seductive. It had a lure that both of us couldn’t resist. The fact that I am laying on his couch naked with his secretary on the way to the office, doesn’t move me, it doesn’t scare me. I am accustomed to the danger. Besides there are locks for unrequired entry and these locks seem to work just properly. We just had another session of mind blowing animal sex. We had a time constraint this time so we had to be efficient. Because I was adamant that this would be my last time doing this, I had to lead procedures. On the last run, I wanted to be ravished and pleasured to the maximum. I got in his office and sat on the chair. We engaged in pointless dialogue until his secretary went out. He stood up and went to the door to lock it. By the time he locked the door, I was already half-naked. My top was off indicating, “Let’s go!” He rushed to me and pressed his body onto mine and started kissing me. He kissed my lips, neck and made it to my breasts to which he caressed and fondled with them. He started kissing and sucking on my nipples, flicking them in a move that drove me absolutely wild. Sensing I would lose control. I interrupted him and created space in between us. I took off my skirt and panties and opened my legs. An invitation he took with both hands. He went down on me. It was the best cunnilingus I have ever had. With the tip of his tongue he stimulated my clitoris. Like a painter, the great Leonardo Da Vinci he moved his tongue left, right, and left, right in a gradual and clockwise manner and then it was rigorous and fast paced it left my mind in tatters. It was pulsating. He was concise, so engaged and he made me come. His tongue was like the tongue of the serpent. I was paralyzed by the pleasure. I indicated that I want him to come into me. While I masturbated, he took off his pants and underwear and in missionary position he started penetrating me. Sensing that he would come soon, I switched positions and went on all fours. He continued with the penetrating while I was groaning and moaning without a care in the world. At that moment I was free and liberated. I resided in the stars. I resided in forever. I was on the moon and it was pure pleasure. He signalled that he wanted to come. So I told him to wait for a bit. I adjusted myself and kneed down to give him a blow job. He moaned and groaned with his hands on my head controlling the motion. He told me he couldn’t hold it anymore and that his coming. I didn’t want him to come in my mouth so I stopped the activity. He came on my face. It was beautiful. It signalled the climax of our union. Of course he didn’t know that. It never occurred to him that it would be the last time seeing me naked.
We are not linear creatures and our behaviors constantly change depending on the people we meet. We create personas and present them as masks so we can be well perceived and liked. Basically we are all actors and we need to play our roles because if we don’t isolation is a big possibility and that’s not good because we need others to navigate reality. We are social creatures and this is a evolutionary trait. We also tell these “white lies” everyday like “How you doing?”, “I am good thanks”. We can’t say “Horrible, I hate my life and I want to die” because we learned that, that response will isolate us from people. We want to be well-liked. This is a big psychological urge hence the success of social media. Abraham Maslow explores this on his pyramid of needs.
Deception is everywhere in nature, predators hide in the long grass to get to their preys and infants learn to fake a cry to get the attention of their caregivers. Deception is an inherent part of nature. Everyone is a liar, there is no exception to this.
Still, I say if you are conscious about it. Tell the truth or at least don’t lie. Consciously lying is bad, it’s a sin and it leads to hell. Plus, every human being can unconsciously detect bullshit. We can feel it, no proof is required. If you are caught in your lie, it reduces respect and things will never be the same again. This is because trust is a very delicate thing. Trust is like a paper, once crumbled the creases will always be there. It also decreases your worth and tanishes your image, no one wants to be with someone they don’t trust. That leads to paranoia and a life of hell.
Always tell the truth or at least don’t lie. Be a person of integrity and good values. This creates order and you won’t have to remember your lies. This is attract genuine people to you and you’ll be happier.
I told her straight up “don’t wait up!” I was serious as a heart attack. If something better came along she was free to board along and experience the voyage like a cruise because the cost of not doing so was Titanic! Not that I don’t hold myself in high-esteem but I was being practical. Unlike an IPO, I had nothing to offer in a monetary sense. Like a shattered mirror I was irrevocably broke. But I did love her but what’s love got to do with it if you can’t provide? Without money, what are you? Surely, not a man because a man needs money to exist and navigate reality. Money represents power and I had none like a weakling. Devoid of muscle, how can I carry my lady like the queen she is all over the world? Better men exist in the world, men who can grant her whatever her heart desires. Men who can love her without insecurities. Men who can touch, stroke and caress her like the keys of a piano. Men who can satisfy her sexual urges, kiss her, make her moan a 8pmnd groan like the horns in a Jazz festival. I am the shadow of that man and hence my appearance at the rear. Jealously is not practical and conducive for a flourishing life. Not that I have never been jealous before, I have. I remember the distinct feeling of wanting to possess my love object like a demon, ironically I was the one possessed. Needless to say she saw right through me and chose to hike to a better life. Life requires flexibility and the presence of mind to hop onto a moving train en route to your destination. Stagnation leads to decay. Life is a continual process of evolution and hence, she will find better, it’s mothernature’s will. I don’t say this to drive her away or to instigate mind games, I do this because my love for her is as white as snow. I would hate to be a burden. I wouldn’t want to hinder her progress towards becoming. The worst thing that could happen to me is that she stays with me because she is obligated and contracted like a marriage. Love is simply electrical signals and chemicals processed by the brain and body, it is not enough to sustain all of life. Me and her are not enough, moreso that I am stripped of financial resources. I think all the time about how I wish things were better. I see myself as an archetype of a great man. However, greatness takes time. It would be unfair of me to ask her to stay along even though I know things are going to be better. With time we will have everything, including the capital to purchase Satan’s soul. But how do I make that vow to her in a subjective reality? Am I even in a position to make that vow? What makes me so confident to believe I can win a rigged game? I don’t know, it’s just something I feel. Something I want to believe with my whole being. I realize how laughable my sentiments are that’s why I propose “don’t wait up!” If something better comes along, don’t hesitate, make the climb to the rest of your life. Make memories, start a family and create a life. I will never hold that against you. I have been chasing dreams for years and now finally I realize that they were illusions, hallucinations only prevalent in my own inner theater. Everything is an illusion and our minds hallucinates reality, and as such to share what’s in my inner theater would be to delude you because it’s not in the objective. I told her don’t wait up to encourage her to chase what is objective and prevalent in reality. Everything else is just fairy dust, wishful thinking and maybe that’s my claim to fame. Maybe I am guilty of this. There is no evidence that I will make it. Such is the certainty of life; the fact that nothing is certain. Instead of victory, I have a vault of business entities that didn’t make it. Promises that has been extinguished. She deserves better than promises. She deserves better than my “feelings of greatness” and even though she loves me, just don’t wait up. A
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, Average ain’t enough. I need an extra inche or 2.
It ain’t good for my ego. She fits the whole thing in her mouth, balls included, still it doesn’t clog her throat.
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, her hands are too large, the contrast is embarrassing, I need at least 25 cm.
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, or at least an 8 and a half.
Average ain’t enough, It doesn’t inspire any confidence.
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, some men have 10, How’s that fair?
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, To be the talk of the town, a girls fantasy, a recurring nightmare.
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, I can tell she’s faking, some days she doesn’t moan or groan.
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, she has cute names for my member, it doesn’t inspire fear, has no respect whatsoever, my stress levels are so high I have problems getting it up.
I could do with a 9 inche pecker, Average ain’t enough, I need an extra inche or 2.
Sit back and let them expose who they are. Relax, they are careless. Accident prone niggas drawn to destructive tendencies. Never react, that’s a bitches move, respond to end the game. You let a nigga kick you once, then he’s going to kick you once, you let him kick you twice and he’s going to kick you twice, you let him kick you three times and he’s going to kick you three times. But if you break his legs, there’s not going to be any kicking. Backstabbers, they smile at my face and stick blades to my back. What? You think I didn’t know? You fugazi niggas are faker than silicon tits, stationary in your endeavors and lacking bounce in your steps. Sit back and let them expose who they are. They can’t help themselves, they are bound to trip. Words and actions like a banana peel. Motives scripted like a wrestling heel. You diss me, you diss yourself. Check the subtext, they laughing at you. We see all your insecurities. Sit back and let them expose who they are, they are impulsive like children on a sugar high. Give them the space to tire themselves out and the rope to hang themselves. You ain’t gotta intervene, these are the fools that shoot themselves on the foot. They are repressed, they will show you all of their shadows, just a bunch of Fredos. Sit back and let them expose who they are, detach from your emotions, refrain from being offended, just watch, listen and enjoy – it’s all a show for you. When the disrespect gets outta control, you gotta pull the trigger, we’ll dig the hole. No one is out of bound we kill made men cause “I don’t shine shoes no more”. At the end of the day we teach people how to treat us.
You are so great. You are so beautiful. You are the love of my life. I can’t live without you. You are my world. You are my everything. You are my rock. You are my champion. I am proud to have you as my man. You are handsome. You are the best lover I have ever had in my life. You are my first. I never want to experience life without you. You make me happy. You are a good person. I would die without you. You are once in a lifetime. I am nothing without you. You bring me peace. You have great charisma. You are my home. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You changed my life. You are so intelligent. I am grateful to have you in my life. I appreciate you. I worship you. You are charming. I love you so much. Being in your presence is an honor. No one is like you. You are the best. You are special. You are the greatest of all time. You have a great sense of humor. You are the sexiest woman alive. You have a banging body. Have you been working out? I love your abs and defined biceps. You are perfection personified. You deserve your wealth. Any woman is lucky to have you. You have a great ass. I love your fashion sense. You have a pleasing personality. You are successful. You have a great smile. You are the smartest person I know. You are my best friend. You have a pure heart. You saved me. You are full of passion. You are the perfect gentleman. You are the hardest working person in the room. You are a classy lady. You are kind and considerate. You bring joy to my life. You have a great entrepreneurial drive. You go all night. You make me orgasm. You are a sex God!
Nietzsche’s philosophy was grounded in psychology and human nature, he was a master of human nature. He was a big fan of Arthur Schopenhauer but didn’t agree with the tone of his work because it centered around persimism and nihilism, the idea of why bother since life is meaningless. Nietzsche’s work is an answer to Schopenhauer’s work, it is positive, practical and leads to a life of self-actualization. He was a genius, a man ahead of his time. He correctly predicted the 21st century, this is incredible for a man who was born in the 19th century. I see his observations playing out in life. He saw that the human spirit/soul would be under threat. He saw the decline of Christianity and the rise of nihilism. He saw the reliance of pills, the Soma that Huxley referred to on Brave New World. He saw the depression and society anxiety sweeping the West. He saw the loss of morals, ethics and meaning. He saw that man would be passive and moved by novelty after novelty. We see it today, man would rather sit on the couch, eat potato chips, consume pornography, order fast food that will be delivered to him at his convenience, be entertained by Netflix and repeat next day. Man doesn’t work on himself anymore, he is comfortable and doesn’t feel the need to act on his dreams.
Man is controlled by pleasure, by the dopamine inducing likes on social media, views, sex and everything you can get by pushing a button. There is no process anymore, everything is expedient or prepared in the microwave. Still, Nietzsche has solutions for the modern man. He preaches a life of self-realization and being the best that you can be. He preaches gratitude for life, he preaches life-affirming prescriptions. I understand why the Nazi’s adopted his work and made it theirs. Nietzsche’s work was powerful and centered on the individual being the best. Hitler wanted Germany to be the best in the world. However, Nietzsche’s work didn’t agree with Nazi ideology and we shouldn’t affiliate the two together. Nietzsche’s sisters are the guilty party in this dynamic but that’s a topic for another day.
Nietzsche’s works were inspiring for the individual, statements like “Amo Fati” direct translation, the love of fate – Love everything about your life and be grateful for the gift of life. Don’t wish you were somebody else, be content with your life. Be present and don’t worry about things you cannot control, leave that to God and the Universe. He also preached being the “Ubermench” which translates to Superman or Overman – work on yourself constantly and strive to be better everyday. Progress, show up, make the best of every moment and be the best that you can be. Be better than a consumer, create and build things and never let novelty sway you. His most famous quote, “God is dead” which can be interpreted as be accountable for your own life, be responsible, no excuses, do what you can, no one is coming out to save you.
Everyone thinks they’re right and in the process we lose our humanity and further surpress our mortality. We forget to love one another and act justly. Even Adolf Hitler thought he was right and he thought that he was going to live forever. He justified the atrocities that transpired in the 20th century to God. He vilified the Jews so much and propagated hate that everything he said made sense. He got supporters. The world fell under his hypnotic frame and genocide became accepted. It’s the same thing with white supremist groups like the KKK and slavery, everyone thinks they’re right and it also makes sense too. In elevating our status we demean the statuses of others and come to see them as weak, we believe we are superior, better, chosen and that we are going to live forever. The hate becomes our refuge and it protects us from the injustices of the world namely that life is suffering and there is no apparent reason for this suffering, so we commit more suffering since that creates some sort of meaning and justifies our existence. The thought that perhaps God doesn’t care about us is unbearable but we entertain it since if God doesn’t exist then all is permitted. Everyone thinks they’re right and there’s always a feedback loop that justifies their findings. Kaffers are dangerous and apartheid fair, while the negro is genetically built to serve his master, the white slaver. Jews are corrupt to the core and spread this plague like a virus throughout the world. Everyone thinks they’re are right and God is always on their side. I learned it’s not important to be right, in fact I don’t want to be right. I’d much rather be wrong and make my way up, as long as there’s breath in my lungs I have a chance to be less wrong. I want to be a good man and have love in my heart. My time is limited and so I meditate on that so I can practice my humanity and make the world a bit better than I found it. My mortality haunts me but it motivates me to be kind, loving and a good person. I don’t want to be right, I want to be just.
I remember when a friend of mine had some news he wanted to tell his inner circle. He decided to start a business and the responses were overwhelmingly positive except for one comment. It wasn’t that bad but it was disguised, sly, hidden and subtle. The comment was “Well done, hopefully you’ll make some money”. I felt it was in bad taste because he implied that he was doing this for the money. He shifted the focus of the news of starting the business to making money.
The comment was passive aggressive. That is what cognitive dissonance is about. Saying one thing and doing another. It is poisonous praise. It is being conflicted, it is being split into two, it is confusing, it is inconsistent. Like God loving us and sending us to hell. What a suspect anology Christianity.
I think that passive aggressive language and behavior works so much because it is indirect and leaves much to the imagination. Being passive aggressive is popular today. Like that one person who always comes late for meetings and always apologizes, like “alright man we get it, you superior to all of us”. Or that one guy who takes an eternity to respond to your texts despite the fact that his been online all day, we see the power play my man.
Deep narcissists are masters of passive aggressive behavior. They want to keep you dependent on them. They are deluded because we always see what they are doing. They think they are clever and slick but we see. Everyone knows a deep narcissist.
Carl Jung has taught me to accept people as they are, accept them as facts, don’t take things personally because we are all repressed and we tend to project on to people a lot. We also have shadows and biases. Being a human being is hard work.
antakalipa 