It Emerges

No, the fridge magnet didn't magically re-appear yet, but as I'm watching Cloverfield Lane (a terrifying film so far), I felt a thought enter my mind about something completely unrelated.

Gina. Yeah, it relates to her and our relationship. I had the epiphany of realizing that it was the pain of my past relationships, and the pain I've deeply buried within myself; to be one of, if not the principal cause of how terribly it ended with us.

Despite how sweet and beautiful and good and kind she was, I met her with a suspicious eye from day one. I never quite allowed her to see into the deepest parts of my being.

Because I was terrified of that part of myself. There is a kind of creature that exists down there, which ex-girlfriends among other things, bear responsibility for having given shape towards. It's the monster of misogyny, the silent contempt I carry inside that is not being given immediate and needed relief.

But, Gina really did try her best. She did as much as she could, until her spirit gave out, and I disrespected her for it after. She really did try, and I really didn't. I didn't give myself up to her like she did with me.

What a wrong-doing I have committed. No wonder she broke up with me the way she did.

In her eyes, I am guilty of having conned her, somehow. To give so deeply of her spirit, that I knowingly would betray her kindness later. That is not true. I have always desired a woman like Gina in my life, and I prayed and hoped for almost 15 years now, that I would find the girl of my dreams. Someone that she so closely resembles.

But... After all I've been through, I just.. found it hard to have hope. I felt defined by my lack of it and carried this identity around of needing to be spiritual and learning about spirituality, so I could find a solution to my despair. I essentially immersed myself in spiritual thinking and searching, for the sole purpose of finding a way to extract myself from this mess that has been dropped into my lap without my having given consent or being the one that is responsible for cleaning it up.

It's not entirely my mess, you know. It's been pressed upon me. It's what the experience of my life has lead towards feeling. This resentment. This.. remorse.

And so.. I now know what Gina might have seen or found reason to break up with me over. It's this. That pain of mine that she can't quite articulate, but intuitively understands and is afraid of. She doesn't want to suffer along with me. She does not think that I am worth the Herculean effort it appears to involve in making me into the best person I can be.

I haven't earned her confidence. Her affection. Her goodness. Her attempts to make me happy.

And that is what I once told myself, a couple of months after we started dating. "She's too good, I haven't earned her."

I was deeply puzzled by when I first said that to myself. Here she was, the woman of my dreams, and I'm thinking that I haven't earned her? Well, I sure deserve her. Don't I?

I sure asked for her.

That's the funny thing about being given something for nothing. To have this expectation that God or some higher-power will grant you a wish, should you pray and meditate long and hard enough.  It just doesn't feel good, when the wish is finally granted. It doesn't. Its honestly a bit unsettling.

That was the way I was feeling, around two months into the relationship. This odd sense that somehow it was all going to end, no matter how good it seemed to already be going. That no matter what I said or did, the relationship will inevitably end sooner that I might predict and that I would be suffering yet another heartache. And this prophecy became true. Even if it might have been a self-fulfilling one.

And it's a terrible feeling to have. That inability to trust someone, to know whether or not they are honest and sincere. That feeling absolutely sucks.

I look at the world today, and I justify those feelings to myself by taking in sight the many ways of how we are fucking ourselves over as a civilization.

I look at climate change, and how we can expect a catastrophic event, within the next couple of decades. At the earliest. 

I'm mindful of how divisive politics has become, and how corrupted and useless many policitians happen to be. And they get elected not because of their credentials, but because they are really the least-offensive candidate for the job. Or the only ones. So our minds lead us to believe.

I look also, at my job and how we insulators seem to not have as much work these days that many of us are worried about the future of the industry, and whether or not we will find work enough to earn a living by.

I get cynical whenever I look at the media, at how much garbage is being produced. And how artistic vision has been compromised for profit and social status. To make a quick buck, even if it involves cheating people out of it with dishonest advertising.

I see the effects that social media has. The harm it causes to people. To women and men alike. Dividing everyone into smaller and smaller bubbles, rather than grow a collective and noble vision together. I see how banal that experience now is. Despite how useful of a tool it has sometimes proven itself to be. Social media is simply populated with the worst that humanity has to offer, when it comes to expressions of lucidity and reasonable intelligence. Compassion too, is a rare quality to come across on social media. Although Social Justice Warriors will try and convince everyone of just how compassionate they truly can be, and it is this ugly race going on between being sensible and those that are so willing to part with their entitled freedoms. Such as the right to not have a personal photo or video posted up on social media for everyone to critique and make you feel small and freakish. Or the right to privacy, which is fast becoming an antiquated concept in these modern times.

I know how much it all sucks. I know how my past relationships were hard on me, but should I give into that cynicism? Should I flip the switch and resign myself?

Hell, no. I won't. I'll do everything I can to keep my head above water. I am fearing the worst, but preparing for the best. I can't give into the luxury of judging anyone now. I can only try and keep optimistic yearnings alive, and to do that, means to begin thinking the best of other people. Not the worst. Especially when you have only just met them, or haven't met them yet.

Which is why I was so impressed that Ginelle agreed to come over for dinner this Saturday. Our first date, and its at my house. She trusts me, it seems. Sure, maybe she's crazier and reckless, but she at least is unafraid of placing trust into people. She's not going to panic about making sure the car door is locked while she is inside of a mall, shopping. She is not going to grimace at the news, and deny herself the chance to put a positive spin on negative events. Even if its done in a sarcastic way. I know this thing about people. I know that anyone accepting an invitation to meet a stranger at their house, is someone who is capable of giving trust and being trusted. Either that, or they're fearless and dumb, which is not who I think most of the women that have come over on the first date, has really demonstrated the qualities of.

So yeah.. I figured out another part of the puzzle. Treat others as you wish to be treated. That old cliche made manifest in personal experience, which is as Confucious once stated to be, "The bitterest of all teachers."

Trust in others, as I'd want to trust them to trust in myself.

Until I have reason not to do so, I must stop judging them for longer than an acceptable period of time. There is only so much patience that people have, before it runs out.

I have to trust someone to be able to reveal my pain to them. Otherwise, the burden of it will kill the relationship if it goes on unacknowledged. To reveal it, is to invite discussion. And to invite discussion, means to invite the opportunity for healing and self-transformation. The opportunity to build trust.

The opportunity to become whole.

So, yeah..

Cloverfield is scary as fuck.

Back to watching it I go.

Lost and Not Found

Weird thing happened today. As I was standing at the fridge, putting away milk, I felt my sleeve knock loose the Gorilla fridge magnet I had on the door and heard a "KLONK".

Just a single klonk, no secondary noise. Which means it should have fallen onto one spot without sliding away, right?

Wrong.

It completely disappeared. As I scanned the floor, not moving from my spot, I just couldn't find it anywhere. I checked every square inch of the fridge, above and below and even checked my pockets to see if it somehow fell into there.

Nope.

So, this really interested me. I went for a flashlight and I really investigated the area around the fridge. Both inside and out. I scoured every surface, and even looked inside containers.

Nothing, nada.

It's gone.

I'm a hundred percent sure that I heard it drop. I felt it too. But where is it? Where did it go?

There are strange stories I've read about, that described objects mysteriously vanishing out of thin air. I wonder if this is one of those situations. In those stories, sometimes the object reappears and sometimes it shows up in an unlikely place far from its original disappearance.

Ghost? Nah. But there were some theories that objects actually can enter another dimension. I know how ridiculous this sounds, but seriously, I searched everywhere within a 15ft radius of my fridge and I will be searching again shortly. I'm 100% sure it was on my fridge this morning, and I'm 100% sure I heard it fall and land someplace.

I also tried searching on my blog as to where I mentioned buying this magnet, and I haven't been able to find that particular entry for some reason. I was going to repost the photo I'd taken of it.

I wonder if it's on my phone.. hmm.

It is. Let's see, July 26th is the time stamp. Should be able to find the blog post within that date range...

Hmm.. can't seem to find the post I had that picture in, so I'll upload it off the phone.

There it is. It's fairly big, too. About three inches at its widest point. Has a bit of weight to it as well.

But it disappeared and I'm quite amused by it.

Hmm.

So fascinating.

I bet fourth dimension entities are looking at it now going, "what the hell is this supposed to be for?"

Hopefully once they get bored, they'll send it back.

Heh.

Edit: It's gone alright. I looked everywhere in the kitchen. I even grabbed a chair so I could look on top of the cabinets. I even opened up a cereal box. Moved every item around in the fridge to make sure it didn't fall inside. It's crazy. If you look at the photo here, I *know* it was perched right above that yellow card on the top-left side.

I haven't touched this magnet in over a month, I believe. So it's not a case of thinking its there, but was actually moved someplace else a while ago. I heard the sound of it falling, and felt my sleeve knock it loose.

But it's nowhere to be found.

Looks like I have my own version of the Bermuda triangle in here.

Will update once I find it. If I ever do.

(plays Twilight Zone theme song)

Here is an entry from another blog that I googled, to see if this kind of phenomenon is commonplace. Apparently it is, and it has a name. DOP or Disappearing Object Phenomenon.

Wild. I hope it shows up.

"Christ is A Meta-Hero"

So says Jordan Peterson, a Canadian professor who is currently on "trial" by social media and collective public opinion. Professor Peterson graced the Joe Rogan podcast with his presence earlier this afternoon, and I felt compelled to check out the livestream that my phone notified me with, so I did.

And wow. What a brilliant, brilliant man he is. Just glittery sparkling brilliance. And he's Canadian! And he's Albertan! Like me!

What a shock it was to listen to him speak. What a treat. Just sweet beautiful diamonds of wisdom streaming from his mouth, hundreds of kilometers away in California, over YouTube. Not only did I listen to him, I watched him. I saw how he carried himself. How expressive he was, and especially how sincere and thoughtful he made himself to be, by being able to see him as more than a disembodied voice.

He was a real person, and he is already a champion in my eyes. My knight in shining armor, taking upon him the lance of truth, and challenging all that oppose, to joust him in the arena.

Those that do, expose their weaknesses in a most profound and crippling exhibition of a lack of rationality or self-awareness of themselves. Professor Peterson just brutalizes them and opens up their torsos for the world to take close examination of. In the debate I watched of him going up against Bill C-16, which is this Canadian bill that has been controversially announced and mandates that University professors and educators should have to allow individual students to identify their pronoun and then have it legally-enforced so that they can only be addressed, by that particular pronoun. Otherwise it could be considered hate-speech or discriminatory, if should they be addressed by gender alone. As in, "she" or "he" even if they might be transgendered and despite being born of one sex, would rather be described by the other.

And it's legally enforced, that those who are found guilty of not falling in line with this expectation -- of having to address someone by as many as 70 different types of pronouns, including many odd ones that have never existed in the English language prior -- they then face the risk of having to pay an exorbitant fine, for not be willing to muddy their minds with having to remember who to be addressing in the way that they have publicly declared their preference to be. The fine is like $250,000, think about that. And if you don't have $250,000 laying around, then that's okay. You won't be going to jail. They'll just take all your assets and garnish your wages to the legally-appropriate amount. until this fine is fully paid off. And you know it won't ever be. You know there will be bankruptcies, right? And if these bankruptcies are for whatever reason, not given to those that apply for it; then what becomes of them? A lifetime of servitude? How would a University prof ever be able to find a job again, given his reputation for having suffered such a crime? Why would a sane University ever accept to employ someone who could risk the possibility of committing the same offense twice? Or more? Why would a prestigious institution be willing to gamble away its reputation on what is essentially, an ex-convict? No matter how smart or appreciated they once were?

Who would really take the chance on hiring someone who has been conviction of such a crime that stains the "integrity" of the institutions they inhabit?

So, who wouldn't be afraid to become a teacher, knowing that this risk exists? Why would anyone want to be an educator, if they find themselves in disagreement with having to comply to such a ridiculous law? To compromise their integrity and right to free speech? To not speak the truth that a man who looks like a man, should be addressed by male pronouns, regardless of personal identification.

There is nothing offensive about referring to a woman who looks like a man, as "manly" or mistakenly referring to them as a "he" until further information is revealed. There is nothing derogatory about applying a label onto someone that meets the physical criteria for it.

Even still, every one who is born a man should always identify as one. That's not discriminatory. That's biology. That's genetics. It's dishonesty when one claims that there are no differences between genders, and that it is a social construct. That is false, and the smart ones know this. SCIENCE knows this. Put a naked man and a woman next to each other, and not have them say a word. Let a hundred people decide on which pronoun belongs to which person. They won't be able to figure that out, but they can figure it out by looking at your genitals. Why? Because it's BIOLOGY!

Are there men being born inside of women's bodies? Perhaps. Perhaps not. That is what transexuals claim, but is there a biological difference? Is there such thing as a gene that makes you gay? Should we bend over backwards to accommodate this .03% of the population that insists on concessions to be made from the rest of us? Want to become transgendered? Fine. Just don't expect me to treat you any differently because of your decision. And it should not be made legally-punishable if you should refuse to as well. Respect is a two-way street, is it not?

And so this issue is an infuriating one with me. It's political-correctness taken to a level of insanity that is only eclipsed by dictators and despots who are only just barely hovering above the mark that today's society has  found itself at. Our civilization is falling into the same loops that occurred during the period of World War II and we MUST be made aware of this. We must not fall into the same trap that the Nazis did. We must not promote Marxist ideas, nor should we condone such an extreme right-wing presence in the governing of our lives, either. It is such a gray area, that you can't and shouldn't be so polarizing, especially when those that are speaking the loudest, only make up .3% of the total population who 99.7% happens to be heterosexual and identify by the gender of their birth.

Why and how is this .3% making such terrible and drastic demands of us? Just how powerful can the social justice warrior movement really be?

From what we saw of the American election; pretty damn powerful, I'd say. And so does Professor Peterson.

So.. wow.. mind still blown and I'm actually listening to this podcast for the second time today. I had to check his debate video out, went through some of his website and yeah. I'm convinced. He's a true hero, out there fighting the good fight.

People like him restore my faith in humanity. Just knowing that no matter what happens to him, I just know that he will have gained such a strong committed following; that he will have no problem in finding success in life. Even if the University does choose to fire him, if he does not comply with their orders. Because it is a form of fascism. not of suppressed-speech but rather "compelled" speech, as in, "you must only speak the way that someone demands of you. In order for you to show compassion and respect."

Compassion and respect are qualities that should be earned, are they not? There is a bare minimum that every human being is entitled to, but it should never be legislated and demanded.

Ugh. Coddling. Making us feel guilty for not treating you in the exceptional way that you want yourself to be treated as. Like some kind of oppressed minority that seems to be growing more and more flakey and demanding of their "oppressors" that they inadvertently cause this glaring divide between those that resent having to use these pronouns, and between those that consider their use to be legally enforceable. As in, "say these things the way we tell you to, or your life is in our hands."

Because, not everybody has courage enough to speak the truth. Not everyone has a safety net to fall back on, in case they somehow commit an error, or be made victim of a person who claims to have been offended and is suffering from deep, emotional distress.

Such ridiculousness. Such insanity.

And Professor Peterson is the sanest voice in the room right now. From among the academics that I know of, who are fighting against political correctness in the same manner as he is. He is just so smart and informative that its so hard to strike back at the guy. You can't really follow up *that* act, no matter how hard you try. Some people can never relate to the true geniuses of our world, so they allow themselves to fall in awe over them. To give them the floor, and their undivided attention.

That's the effect he had on me, anyways. Elevating my spirit. Making me believe that humanity is worth fighting for, and that we must not allow this infection to continue spreading as much as it has. This rotting virus that eats away at rational thought, where people of one side has to do battle with the other. Atheists over here on the left, and churchy people on the right. We shouldn't be so divided on something of this issue. We shouldn't be so willing to let go of our traditional values and customs. That would be unethical. Immoral. Sacrilegious. Blasphemous.

Essentially, good and evil is at war with itself right now. And our soldiers are men like Professor Peterson, who swing the sword of truth with a mighty spirit in their hearts. Fighting for what they believe in. Taking no prisoners along the way. Champions. Soldiers. Giants. Gods among men.

Idols. Icons. Examples. Role models.

Those are important people to have on our side. The voices of reason. The voice that speaks to at least half the population. The ones that do not agree with political correctness and feel themselves to be living in a system of corruption. Those people are reflective of pubic sentiment. They are giving a voice to a multitude that is voiceless. Or those who do not wish to make a public spectacle of themselves, offline or on. Which can be a death wish, given how fanatical of a movement the social justice warrior paradigm has grown to be.

So yeah, I love this guy. So proud of what he is doing and how his mind works. Genius. Absolute genius.

Time to go listen to the rest.

I love his thoughts on religion too. Exactly the views I have, but articulated and well-reasoned out.

So much to like about this guy.

I'm hungry for more. 

Edit: Coincidence of the day involves me being serviced at the bank by a teller named Jordan. Interesting. I even felt compelled to thank him by name after the transaction once I saw his tag. Not usually characteristic behavior of myself.

The Arrival

Well, here they are. A Minecraft torch and a pack of Pokemon wall decals for Gina's kids that I impulsively ordered.

Now, what?


I was thinking about dropping those off at the local thrift store, but now I'm thinking of anonymously sending them over. No name or return address, or any indication that it was me that mailed it. But, now my mind (heart?) is telling me to include something else in the package.

Assuming I go along with this dumb idea.

And now, I'm wondering if I should include her tupperware container and thats it. Or also include that and a coffee mug with a picture of Gustav Klimit's "The Kiss" that I bought at the art gallery in the summer which I found among my pile of "random stuff to give random people" in my closet upstairs.

I don't know, man. I could just send her those two things anonymously and leave it at that. Including the tupperware is going to be good for a cheap laugh, and it will identify me. Since it'll identify me, why not throw in the coffee cup? This way each of them gets a gift.

But why am I bothering with this? The kids are blameless, I can send them gifts with a clear conscience. Especially anonymously. But if I throw anything else into the package that identifies me, then thats where the waters start getting murky.

The tupperware container would be a nice touch. But I feel like something else should go in there with that. No letters, obviously.

I was thinking of including this chicken thing I picked up a while ago.

You know, because its funny and symbolic at the same time.

(sighs) this picture sums up everything about how I'm feeling right now.

And it sucks.

She'll get a laugh out of the chicken, her kids will appreciate the toys and I can still sort of stay anonymous if I mail only those contents and nothing else. Maybe I'll even drive out to Saskatchewan and mail it from there. To further confuse her.

If she knows those gifts are from me, she's going to be pissed. But if I can do it with a wink and a smile, it could slide through. She'll be baffled at first, but she'll never be able to know for sure who sent it. I'll be lurking in her thoughts, obviously, but I can claim plausible denial.

Chicken, torch and decals.

Thats it. No tupperware.

But if I include the tupperware, I can use it as an excuse for sending her this stuff in the first place. "Thought you'd want your container back."

Except.. (sighs)

Yeah, I can't do this any other way but anonymously.

Anyways.. its been a girly birthday weekend for me. Gynger stayed overnight with me on Friday, and then got pissed that I answered a message from a girl on Tinder the next day, so she asked me to take her home. I'm pretty sure she has feelings for me that she doesn't want to admit. Its not like I was carrying on a conversation. Just a "hi" and "I have company over, I'll talk to you later" message, which I sent because Gyngie was on the phone with her daughter and my phone buzzed with a Tinder notification that I've been "super-liked" for the first time since I've used that app.

Guess who it was? A girl I went out on one date with, almost a year ago.

Here's her profile.

So, why is she messaging me now? Why was I super-liked? When we went out that one time, why did she do that despite the fact that she had a boyfriend, and was texting him throughout our meeting?

I thought she was attractive, but she had three kids and a boyfriend at the time. I guess our "date" was some sort of platonic experience for her. Unless.. maybe she was single now?

No, she's not. And thats just sad.

So.. wtf? An attractive 28 year old super-likes me and.. well, the conversation didn't go anywhere. I wasn't about to go out with a girl who has a boyfriend, and so I didn't bother writing anything that indicated interest in doing so. I was more interested in what her justifications were for using a dating service if she already was attached.

Turns out, the boyfriend wants her to get into a threesome. So she's on there to find women.

So many red flags in this. I was texting Gyngie about her while this was going on after I dropped her off at home. Pretty girl, but boy.. she seems all kinds of damaged and I don't know what exactly is she hoping for from Tinder.

And today, I'm getting messaged by a lady named Ginelle. She's one of those "u" and "lol" types that I find hard having a conversation with, but its going so far. She just asked for my number.

Eh. I'm so tired of all this. I don't want to date anymore.

I don't need drama in my life.

Just the one girl that I lost.

Only her will do.

Tupperware.. coffee cup..

Hmm.

Torch, decal + chicken.

That sounds about right.

But thats only if I'm going to go through with this.

God help me.

I think I will be.

Moist Musings

Sorry for more of this, but being stoned while taking a bath, is giving me revelations about Gina that I must make sure I write down in case I forget.

First of all, I must never make my intentions or feelings known to Gina, until I hear from her first.

I won't be able to handle the hurt that a likely rejection will inflict on me. I'll crumble and go to pieces. I won't be able to move forward in life, if Gina rejects me again. I can't do it. And it's not worth the risk. And the risk is so high (pun intended) right now.

Nope. Can't do it. Can't mail her the package. Can't make snowmen with signs on her way to work. I can't leave her a paper flower stuck with its stem in the snow on her lawn outside the front door.

I can't go through with these ideas. If she slammed the door on my sincerity and intentions long ago, what makes me think that any of those ideas will change how she feels? She is not going to look at me in a positive light no matter what idea or scheme I can come up with. This includes accidentally seeing her at the mall, where I know she'll be on Wednesday nights taking her kids to jujitsu.

I have the opportunity to do these things, but I won't. I shouldn't.

And that sucks. But it doesn't mean I should finally let her go and lose hope. It doesn't mean either of those things. I can still keep hope alive, maybe not for her, but towards life in general. Destiny in general.

And there's only two possibilities out there for people like me. You either believe in fate, or you don't. You believe in a higher purpose and meaning outside of and including yourself; or you don't believe in it at all.

We either serve a purpose, or we don't.

That's the sign posted at the door, in case you're curious about entering a house where wise old spirits and a creator resides, waiting expectantly for your arrival.

Waiting to go to heaven. And finding out whether or not our convictions will be tested, by forces far more powerful than ourselves. To a judgment that little of us have any certainty in being able to anticipate.

Is not dignity enough? Self respect? Rationality? Are these attributes not worthy of preserving, and protecting against their invasion by institutional forces that do not actually care much about the salvation of any given human being, by the practice of their ideologies? Isn't being rational and open minded, the correct mode of personal existence and responsibility? Why believe in all that bull, when we can still be good human beings, without needing to believe in God.

There's an argument to be made for skeptics to have as much as, or more of a right to enter heaven, than for those that blindly believe. When much of the evidence points to elitist and egotistical intentions in the origin and subsequent retelling of myths that skeptics know to have been perpetuated with irrational and disingenuous ideas, much of which no longer applies to a modern civilization as a whole. And the contradictions between belief systems all point to the fact that the odds are stacked against you, when it comes to knowing which of all those, is the truest religion to follow.

So with that said, I can still choose which side of the fence I want to be on, and despite how much this sounds like pascal's wager; I am choosing to believe in destiny. For the better or worse of my assessment. Even though I know, that 99% of all religion is bullshit based on flimsy kernels of truth, buried so deeply that you have to study for years, to know whether or not it's true. And oftentimes, being asked to accept lies and human error as requisite in being shown the deeper, more meaningful secrets in all of those traditions. I know this, and still, I believe.

There is something out there. Something profound and loving and powerful. We call it by many names. We've waged war based on these beliefs. We know there is something out there, but we don't seem to have courage to question the story that we are taught.

Well, I've had that courage.

I've lived long enough to have experiences that point towards a higher power that seems to intervene in my life, time and time again. Always restoring faith. Always surprising me. It's not always convincing and it doesn't always leave convincing evidence behind, but it's believable. It could be possible that outside forces are involved.

So then, I must believe that the irrational position can also be made rational to have.

That means I must believe that God does not exist and is exclusive to any one religious system. If God should exist, he would ensure that knowledge of him cannot be withheld based on the geographic and cultural destination of our birth. Just because we are born Christian and grow up as Christian, it doesn't mean that everything else is wrong and we are the only ones right.

Why believe in the story of Noah's ark if it doesn't make any logical sense? Get rid of it! That's the rationality God would expect of his true believers, right?

Why would he want an army of brain dead morons come knocking at his door? Just because they were Christians? Or Muslims? Slapping a name and label onto your beliefs, and then giving independent and rational thought a vacation, is not the way I would think is worthy of God's admiration. I mean, what if you are wrong? What if you ended up going to hell even if you identified as Catholic or Muslim or Jew? Is faith enough? Is it all that God expects of us?

I don't think so. I think dignity, respect, and logic are expected of those who genuinely are on a search to find God. I think those are the best qualities to have. Believer or skeptic the same.

So, in my case with Gina, I'll have to honour what little virtue and faith that I have left. If I reveal myself to her, and she doesn't make the next move, then that's a gamble. At stake would be what little is left of my belief in a higher power, and I don't want to lose that. Even though I have little faith at the moment, it doesn't mean I have lost it. It only means that I know it's still there. And that as long as it's there, I can handle anything that life decides to throw at me. I need faith for that, and I can't gamble it away on this one girl.

The one girl I love most in the world.

So, yeah. I'll have to move on with my head held high.

No matter what.

The alternative is terrifying.

It would actually be hell, if it was true that God and destiny does not exist, and nor would heaven and spirits and miracles.

I wouldn't want to live in that world.

This is a spiritual democracy.

I'm sure of it.

And I'm not hoping to be rewarded with a participant ribbon when I reach the light at the end of the tunnel.

I want the trophy.

Faith matters most, when you have little reason to continue holding onto it.

I see what's going on now.

Post Truth

Interesting. I switched on the laptop with the intention of going over my novel, but the urge to post overrode the initial impulse I had to write something fictional.

I think I'm more interested in letting go of the creative process, and just letting my thoughts fly. No structure, outline, characters or plot needed. Just throwing down my feelings without any pressure of getting spelling or grammar correct. Or making it entertaining enough for someone to read.

Funny, I can write for hours on my blog, but I can't seem to extend this ability out to my novel. Although I can get going pretty good with a book, depending on circumstances and state of mind. Still though, there is pressure in wanting to create something worthwhile and I'm somewhat intimidated by it. I've blasted so many movies and books for being uninspired and paint-by-numbers, and I don't want to be accused of doing the same.

See, one of the antagonists in my novel is a carbon copy of that guy from Luke Cage. "Shades," and it already feels like I'm pilfering ideas from elsewhere although I came up with the character's appearance long before it was realized on TV.

And then, certain other ideas I've used before, have subsequently been used elsewhere, although I'm pretty sure I came up with them first.

I guess none of that matters if I don't have a published work to prove innovation by. I've got to get it out on the market and claim intellectual ownership of whatever ideas I come up with, before anybody else does.

Then again, there is really no such thing as originality these days. Everything is a variation of the hero's journey. And everything that has ever been made, has been inspired or derivative of something that came before it. The only originality one can hope to express, is an original compilation of unoriginal ideas.

There is nothing original about painting a bowl of fruit on a canvas. Nothing original about the medium, either. But what is original, is the individual interpretation and presentation of whatever it is that is being expressed. That's the difference there. There might not be anything truly original anymore, but there certainly are ways of being unique.

Hm.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I'm not really looking forward to turning 39. My mom is going to take me out for supper, and I might be hearing from Gyngie since she asked me a few weeks ago when it was. I'm.. kind of sad to be somewhat hopeful to hear from her. Mainly because I'd like her to come by, and I don't know if she'd be in the mood for it. I don't want to be the one that invites her, and be turned down for some reason or another.

Gyngie is the only single female in my life at the moment. And she is not in a good place right now. She has no money, no car, is constantly playing video games all day, is irresponsible and undisciplined. She has mental issues, which she is actively trying to resolve by going to this group thing every day, which she also hates.

She's really at the bottom of the well, and it breaks my heart to see her like this.

And my problem is, holding my tongue whenever I see her. When I see fruit flies buzzing around, or her place being in a state of disarray; or her unwillingness to get a job, or to read the chapters I've asked her opinion of three months ago that she still hasn't gotten around to (despite her promises). And its honestly depressing. I keep wanting to come up with some new inspiration for her, or piece of advice that will help turn things around, but she doesn't want to hear of any of it. She doesn't accept criticism very well. If at all. And... for someone like me who is interested in self-improvement and bettering quality of life; Gyngie can be such a frustrating person to interact with.

But, maybe there's a lesson there I need to learn. No, there is a lesson there. Don't help those who do not wish to be helped. That's the lesson. She doesn't want to be helped, or given advice towards. If she does, she would ask.

But I don't have much compassion or respect towards those that think that way. Which makes it hard on me because I understand her mindset. She is the version of me that has given up on life, and would rather indulge in escapist entertainment than to sit around and find ways of improvement.

Hm. One of the reasons I like hanging out with her, is that my faults come out front and center and makes it obvious what I need to change or do in order to form a better relationship with her as a friend. I want to be able to better understand people, and how I should handle someone like her. My cousin Marek is similar to Gyngie, and I haven't seen him in a couple of years due to the frustration he brought out in me. Gyngie's (ex) friend Matt left her for the same reasons I left my cousin. The frustration of watching someone's life implode due to negligence on their part, was too much for him to bear.

So maybe, in order to correct this, I'll simply just have to turn a blind eye. And that is what Gyngie apparently wants. She doesn't want me to point out her dirty dishes, or how bad her place smells, or hear anything negative come out of my mouth. She understandably wants someone positive around, who makes her feel good.

And I get that. But this compulsion of mine to try and motivate people to live a better life, well.. it really is a strong compulsion to have. And I have to wonder, maybe I shouldn't bother investing myself so emotionally into the outcome of other people's lives. Their lives are their responsibility. Not my own.

But one of the things I most enjoy, is watching someone take my advice and having their lives improve as a result. It doesn't even have to be advice. Just a simple movie recommendation will do. Or a book. Or music. Or something that brings a bit of joy, or illumination into their lives.

That's the part I enjoy most. When someone's eyes light up, and they passionately declare their enthusiasm for something that I brought to their attention they were previously unaware of.

It's such a thrill being able to share the treasures I've come across in life.

I guess that's why my novel is such slow-going at the moment. It's the perfect canvas to paint these intentions and aspirations upon; but it has to follow a structure. A story. And I'm finding that the story is getting in the way of the ideas I want to express.

See, my favorite chapters are the long discourses where I wax philosophically about one thing or another. I find the story to be window dressing when it comes to two characters discussing the nature of existence and I have an opportunity to put into them the things that I have learned over the years.

Education has to be entertaining, else it has no value. Given the deluge of information that is infiltrating all of our lives; people are more selective about the information they wish to expose themselves to. Not everyone has time to read an article from start to finish. The headline and possibly a paragraph or two, is sufficient enough for most.

So then, attention is the most valuable thing in the world right now. Being able to grab someone's attention, is an important skill to master. But it has to be governed by an internal set of principles and ethics. Why? Because getting attention is easy, when you are negative and shallow without much shame or honor for yourself. Getting attention when you have something positive and uplifting to share, is much harder. Not everyone appreciates the same things. Not everyone wants to be "uplifted."

Sometimes all we want to see, is a pretty girl taking a selfie while wearing tight yoga pants.

Intellectual discourse takes more effort than it is worth, for most people. It's not easy. It's not simple and quick and immediately gratifying, but it's still important. More important than the bulk of what people are seeing on social media these days.

Cracked.com is a good example of the solution to what I feel we should be pursuing. Education as entertainment. There are some great articles on that site, and they are hilariously entertaining to read.

So, that's the difference. Be funny, be smart, be open-minded and don't fall into the trap of taking yourself seriously. Everything is malleable. Everything changes. Nothing is really important if you stop to think about how insignificant we appear to be, in the grand scheme of things.

So then.. to make someone laugh and to teach them something new, is all I can hope for.

Gyngie is a good person to practice this with.


Hmm. Again, baby steps. No attachment to outcomes. Just live in the present.

Easier said than done, sometimes.

But I have to try.

It's worth trying for.

Thinking About Thinking

One thing I realized today, in having absorbed so much information over the course of a lifetime, is that I've amassed a toolbox that has more than one tool for the job. Meaning, I'm more confused about the number and variety of tools at hand, than to feel certainty by sticking to a limited amount of ideas, and developing expertise in using them. 

Instead, I'm constantly playing with a dozen different ideas rather than settling on just one. Or one at a time, rather. 

That's a problem, because I'm losing focus when it comes to wanting to make the most of my life. There are too many paths and avenues and options and possibilities that it overwhelms me, and as a result, I'm not achieving a damn thing. 

One thing I know for sure, is that experience trumps information. Knowledge, real knowledge can only come about by experiencing the result of a practical application of the "wisdom" brought about by media, such as books. 

I can read all the books in the world, and I can still be no wiser than the man who has read none.

It's not what you know, but what you do with what you know. People have gone pretty far in life by not knowing much, but using what little they know, to its fullest application. 

Those kind of people, are comfortable with simple explanations and simple ideas. They don't really feel that need like I do, to keep pushing and pressing ahead with a subject that has practically no end in sight for satisfying ones curiosity with. 

And I'm troubled by knowing this. I've intellectualized "wisdom" without really benefiting by it. I've been busy my entire life, collecting knowledge and not really using it. So then, what good is it doing me?

When my passion in life involves the esoteric and unusual, there's a guarantee that I won't ever figure it all out, even if I think I have. It's an abyss. A bottomless hole. And I've dug myself in deeper than anyone I personally know.

So then, maybe what I should be doing, is going back over what I've collected and not really learned. Maybe I should go back to the books that have made a strong impact on my outlook, and remind myself of important ideas that have slipped into the fringes of my awareness.

Take for instance, the Kybalion. A fantastic book. I have an intuitive understanding of its truths, but ask me to lay them all out and I probably won't be able to tell you much.

Just for fun, I'm going to attempt to try right now, just what it is I remember from reading that book.

Okay.. heh.. harder than I thought it was. But one idea that really came out, was the idea of life being a kind of pendulum. Specifically, the life of any human being has a swing that goes to the far left or right of where they want to be. In the middle. The job of the person who is made aware of this fact, is to ensure that you are not affected by either extreme of the swing. So for example, finding extreme happiness and later experiencing extreme misery. The average person is going to find themselves swept up in either scenario. Or should I say, the "sensitive" person is going to commit themselves fully to experiencing either scenario. But when the pendulum swings from one extreme to another, these type of people find themselves in either agony or ecstasy that is short-lived. Producing a mindset that feels itself to be held hostage by the forces of external circumstances.

Except the truth is, there are no circumstances that exist outside of our means to control. We always choose the way we get to react to things. Whether its a threesome with two gorgeous ladies, or having your car repossessed and being hit with divorce papers. We can control our reactions in both cases. And the Kybalion makes the strong argument that being mindful of the present, enables us to alter the future. And to alter the future, means we control the past.

I've gotten pretty good at sussing out the core meaning in all the theories and principles and systems of beliefs I've exposed myself to. Its come to the point where I can skim over most of a book and my eye will drop itself on exactly the right thing, so I don't have to read the "fat" that surrounds these core ideas. But a book as compelling as the Kybalion, deserves to have each of its words taken seriously and given thoughtful consideration.

"As above, so below" is another teaching from the Kybalion. It postulates (based on ancient teachings by Hermes) that the smallest particle, is a part of a larger whole, and that each is one and the same. Ken Wilber called this a "holon" where something is whole, and separate at the same time. Much like we are. Hence the, "God created man in his own image" passage in the Bible.

To know God, we must first know ourselves.

I should be erecting a shrine to these ideas. Not collecting them all and tossing them in the bucket with all the other questionable ideas out there that I keep an open mind towards, but never really committing myself to believing. I need to separate them from one another. Give them space to breathe and come to life.

Too many ideas out there, and not all of them are good. Too much complexity, also. Like peeling off the layer of an onion, and finding another layer beneath. I could probably go my entire life peeling this onion and never realizing that I don't have to. That I already know what is at the core.

I should be following the KISS method of "keep it simple, stupid" and not overwhelm myself with theories of a holographic universe, the law of attraction, religion, spirituality, multiple realities and dimensions, etc. I can spend months studying simulation theory, string theory, the multiverse theory, the holographic theory, and all I'm going to do is end up confusing myself.

I need a coherent framework, and my insatiable thirst for knowledge is getting in the way of that. There really are too many theories and conflicting ideas out there. At least when it comes to figuring out the nature and form of the universe, and my (mankind) relationship to it.

Maybe, that's the end game of all this. I'm only describing a natural process of learning and adapting, but the reason I'm bringing it up, is because I'm exhausted and demoralized for continuing to keep reading and learning about my favorite subjects, only to not really ever putting them into practice or to good use. 

Or really distilling them all down to a viable hypothesis.

A quote of James Allen that I really like, says this:

"Learning may aid and accompany wisdom, but it does not lead to it."

For too long, I've allowed others the chance to speak and share their views and findings. For too long I've been an empty vessel filling itself up greedily without much consideration of what was going in. Sure, I thought of these ideas, but there always is another shiny thing that lures me away from these deliberations, and they turn into phantoms in the back of my mind. Patiently waiting their turn to be given acknowledgement. 

Now, it's my turn to do just that. Give those ideas and theories the credit they deserve. Patch them all together, discard the useless bits, and then live my life by whatever philosophy emerges. 

I really should look to working on my novel. It's the best way to solidify what I've gathered over the years. Make those phantoms real, and trot them out into the public. Relieve myself of the burden of keeping these thoughts imprisoned. They need to be examined and debated in a forum larger than myself by welcoming secular and spiritual analysis to critique the ideas I've come up with. 

Yeah. I need to do this. Time waits for no man. A lifetime of learning, should have some practical expression. It is not a glass case to put things inside of, and allow dust to settle on top of them.

Hm.

Need to stop playing video games for awhile. I need all the time I can get.

This has to happen. 

Instead...

(sighs) .. instead I keep dealing with thoughts of her, my book, my job, my hearing, my life, my lack..

It's tough. Harder than what most people have to deal with. 

It's always easier to turn my back on these things, and simply lose myself in a book, a video game or a movie.

Or a song.

But songs aren't all that demanding of my time.

So, yeah.. 

Either I confront the world head on.

Or I run from it.

The answer is clear.

I can never give up.

No matter how much it feels like I should. No matter how much I struggle with, or what I've lost.

And I've lost..

Someone important to me.

And I've lost myself.

What other wake up call do I need?

But... thank God I have this blog to ramble on. Every time I do, I feel like I'm letting go of a little bit more pain, and gaining a bit more perspective. I'm acknowledging my distress and looking at it in an objective way.

So, good thing I have that at least.

Baby steps.

Baby steps all the way.

Oooh baby I love your way.

Yeah.. Everything reminds me of her.

I played her that song while she was taking a shower at my place. Its really ingrained in my memory.

Along with everything else about her.

One other weird thing today, apart from seeing a fox in the parking lot -- is that for no reason at all while I was playing Saints Row - Enter The Dominatrix, is that I had thoughts of Gina's kids popping into my mind. And with those thoughts, this yearning came out as well. The yearning to want to spend time with them, to play with them.

It was a strong impulse, and like I said, a weird one to have given that I was likely walking around beating people up with a floppy dildo in the game when it happened.

Maybe, maybe I really want to be a dad. But with the way the world is nowadays, I don't like the idea of having kids. Maybe thats why being a stepdad is preferable. Less responsibility.

Hmm.

Like the Kybalion mentioned, I am on a pendulum of sorts. I keep veering off to each side. I'm  desperate for an outcome, but I have no idea what sort of outcome would suit me best.

Be careful what you wish for, as they say. Maybe I would hate being a stepfather. Maybe It wouldn't suit me. Maybe I'd be a lousy mentor to a couple of young boys.

I don't know.

But I am interested in giving it a shot.

I think the single most truest thing I can say about the subject of what makes me happy, is that I know the time I spend with other people, the relationships I cultivate -- means more to me than anything I own.

And I'm.. I guess I've always been a people person.

Hm. Though I never used to really think that way.

(sighs) .. most of my time nowadays is spent inside of my washroom, believe it or not. I'm not even sitting on the toilet either. I'm on the floor, listening to the bathroom fan whir as I smoke and read on the phone, or play games, or post on my blog. Or have a cup of coffee. It's weird, but comforting in its own way. A small space with minimal distractions inside of it. Well, minimal if I didn't bring in the phone or laptop or a book. Still, I understand the formerly unconscious appeal of it.

Well then.. Enough thinking about thinking. I need a breakthrough. A revelation. A miracle, like I asked for in my last post.

I'm considering getting back into practicing the Law of Attraction and possibly "magick" as I used to when I was in my teens. Those things do work, even if I have trouble convincing myself as to why and how they do. Again, multiple theories.

Thing is, even if I'm going to throw myself fully into visualizing the outcome of my life; I need to be specific about what I want. And right now, I just want someone who loves me. As sad as it is to say. A pretty young girl, or even a slightly older one. With or without kids. Someone I'm attracted to and can have a meaningful conversation with. Someone that I can share my life and confess my deepest feelings to, without being afraid of my vulnerabilities.

But, thats.. you know, it could be Gina that I'm asking for. She has hit more checkmarks on my list than any other girl I've been with or dated.

So, should I try and focus on getting her back? Or should I focus on finding someone better? Because like I've said multiple times in my blog, I have a hard time imagining someone better than her.

But, maybe there is.

Or maybe there isn't.

I need to settle on a plan before I go about executing it.

If someone told me there was someone better than Gina out there for me, I would have an extremely difficult time in believing it. So therefore, visualization and LOA won't work for me unless I overcome this skepticism of mine.

So the easiest thing is actually for me to visualize in getting Gina back.

But.. that's a tough road too.

I really don't know which approach to take.

In visualizing, it helps to have a target of what you're asking for. And to make it as specific and nuanced as possible. All the details you can muster, will assist in achieving the goal. So in my case, it would be easy to visualize Gina coming back, more so than it would be for some random girl to come into my life somehow.

Hmm.

I don't know if such a thing is even possible. It literally would be a miracle if somehow Gina contacts me again.

Do I want to invest time and energy into something that has such a low chance of it coming true?

Is this really what I want to be wishing for?

Again, this is the easiest path to take, but in taking it, I would have to not bother with dating sites anymore. Or with keeping my hopes up in public about finding the "one" for me.

I'd have to trick myself into believing that Gina and I are together, and for that to happen, I can't be thinking about other girls.

And that is a limiting belief, isn't it? 

Hm. To move on, or not to move on.

That is the question.

I don't know what would spark a change of heart in her, especially one that I'm not going to directly intervene with (such as mailing her the package). So.. just sitting around and wishing for her is what I can expect to be doing, if I go along with this idea. Hoping for a miracle to happen.

Grr.

I really overthink things. I really put a lot of pressure on myself, and I really don't know exactly what I most want. Or more accurately, need.

Maybe.. maybe I should shift my focus to that, then. Focus on finding an answer to that question first.

"What is it that I should have, that will impact my life in the most beneficial and positive way possible?"

Thing is, the answer to that is, "a good relationship with myself." Right?

Got to find happiness within, first. I can't possibly expect "someone else" to come around and magically fix me. I have to fix myself. That's my responsibility, not someone else.

Hmm. In this line of thinking, it stands to reason that I need to find happiness in myself first.

But, I'm defined by the relationships I have with other people. Relationships are what makes me happy.

So, that is why I'm begging for the "one" to come. To fill this hole inside of me.

But then again, I don't want a woman to be my only reason for living.

Hmm.

I think in order to realize a good relationship with someone, I'd first have to develop a good relationship with myself. And if there is anything that Gina taught me in the post-breakup, is that I had a very good relationship with myself this summer before I went back to work. Until work robbed my spirit of enthusiasm.

Hmm. So then, if I can't sustain happiness because of what I do for a living, then I should be asking for help in getting a new career. Or winning the lottery. Or something.

(sighs) I'm tired of all this thinking. I need to go to bed. I still can't get my sleep cycle back to normal. I'm still staying up late every night. Still avoiding having to go back to work.

And my ass is sore from sitting on the bathroom floor.

Well..

Another time.

Houdini Hotness

Like the recently departed Leonard Cohen used to sing, "I am waiting for the miracle."

Pretty much how it all describes myself right now, as I continue to struggle on with thoughts of her in my mind. I just have such a hard time with it. I really needed a face to face declaration of us being broken up, not this cruelty that she inflicted on me. Intentional or not.

She should've known better than to do that to someone. And to ignore their texts and phone calls afterwards. And then to get upset when I try to see her in person, And then upset again, because I left a note saying I wanted to speak with her, at her home.

I.. can't do the Christmas gift..

I won't send it to her. She doesn't deserve to see me shred my last ounce of dignity, hoping for the faint possibility of us getting back together.

The faint possibility, is all I can hold onto right now. The most unlikeliest chance of her somehow having a change of heart, and contacting me instead.

And this faint possibility, is based on the assumption that she read my entire email and whether she listened to the cd I made for her.

That's it. My odds of succeeding and winning her back, can only depend on her contacting me. Right? I've made my intentions and feelings known to her already, if she decided not to read my email or if she blocked my thanksgiving text; I should still not press ahead, hoping to score on that low percentage of her having done those things.

I can't make the next move.

No matter how much I want to.

She's so close that I can touch her, and my heart is telling me to keep itself still, so that it won't flutter itself to oblivion, having to feel how real my imagination can make to pretend her being with me. I revel in those moments sometimes. These fake scenarios. And I usually feel ashamed after entertaining those images. I can't quite explain why that is, other than some form of guilt being tended towards. That the wounds I'm feeling deep in my soul, can be given temporary healing by my brief elevation of her spirit.

Because that is the part of her that I love the most.

She has a really good heart.

And we were a fantastic match together, even if she didn't think so at the end. For whatever reasons known only to her, that she is refusing or is unable to share with me.

But, I do have to remind myself that I have almost no chance of winning her back if I am the one to make the next move. To mail her a package, with a letter, or whatever.

Whatever dumb idea I come up with, I can't follow through on. I can't make the next move, even though I feel like I have to do something. Its been so long since I seen her last. She's already a goddess in my heart that will live on for the rest of my days. And that is precisely why this is so hard to deal with.

I have met the most beautiful girl in the world, and for a short while, it was the greatest time of my life to have experienced the gifts she shared with me, both in material and emotional forms.

It bothers me that I think so deeply sometimes. Most people don't, I don't think, have that sort of urge to become as deeply introspective as I have. There's no value in trying to make logical sense, out of an illogical world. You simply play with the cards you're dealt, and that's that. What good is having a deep fixation over limitations beyond your means to control or overcome? Why not concede defeat, or a temporary surrender, while you push your life forward, being the best person you can be? In spite of your inadequacies?

I think we all have it in ourselves to be good people, and good people are going to take losses like this; with an honor and respect shown towards the person whom they feel abused by. We acknowledge the vulnerability that is exposed of us, and we strive towards fixing and designing our life to be as happy as it can be, both for ourselves and our families.

And in my case, a man without a family. The single guy with no one to be responsible for.

The "lucky bastard" that most married men talk about in whispers and oftentimes, open admiration. I don't feel lucky at all to be single with no dependents. I feel quite useless, to be honest, and had I die tomorrow, the world will move on that much more easily, than if I had left behind many who depended on me.

And that would a blessing to the world, to spare the sadness of death upon others. As my father's passing has caused onto me.

Being broken up with, by such a sweet and beautiful person, was the final knife in the heart.

Do I gasp my last breaths to Gina? Sending her a package with a letter and sounding like a lunatic to which she will most definitely not ever want to be with me again? No, I do not want that to happen. That is the worst and most likeliest outcome to have. So, I won't risk it.

No, all I can do is hope for a miracle. As cliche a word as it is, and as naive of a connotation it has; I am boldly hanging onto it. In both good and bad times. Although to be honest, the bad times that has begun from when I first returned to work a few months ago, seem to be persisting a lot longer than the good times I had in the two months after being broken up with.

So, these are dark times right now. Not suicidal ones. Just gloomy and drizzling with sadness.

But what am I supposed to do about it? Pretend I'm not sad? Pretend to forget about her?

I can't delete her photos, I won't erase history.

Nor can I delete our texts. I saved them onto a couple USB sticks.

So, I've ensured her survival in the story of myself that someone may someday be reading.

And my life is far from over yet. I still have time. Even if I'm pushing 40.

Because of people like this.

Yes, that is a married couple. Yes, he was in his 50s and she was in her early 20s. And yes, she's pretty damn hot and he's not that wealthy.

At least I don't think he is. He's a practitioner of "magick", which immediately invokes association with pentagrams, witches, eye of Newt and a batshit bananas (to outsiders, anyways) mental and moral framework. It's not respected to be someone who believes in the occult, to such a committed level.

I sort of agree with that, but at the same time, I see the value in what these "magick" Baphomet loving Crowley-worshipping buffoons often preach; but I also see the evil and hypocrisy that sours much of traditional occult wisdom as it is known today. There are very few texts around that point to a time in history, where there was something thought of as magic, and that fiercely profound and inventive thinkers, all had the interest in alchemy or the study of occultism. Hermes Trismegistus and portions of the Bhagavad Gita, the Gnostic Gospels as well as some of the Native American religion are all that's really left, as far as books are concerned. For the most part, other religions of value had not properly documented their history as throughly as they should have. Such as the Australian Aboriginals.

Anyways, I came across that picture randomly of these two magicians and it smacked me in the face. I was more struck by that dark raven-haired beauty and then amused, by the expression on the man's face. His restrained, but joyous expression. It was the look of a man who is justified by ideology. That his thoughts and character, were of a value enough that "destiny" or "God" rewarded him with such an attractive mate, so late in his age. Was he lucky? Or wise? Or maybe, he always had girlfriends more than 30 years his junior, due to some information we don't know; but I'm pretty sure a girl like that is attracted to power of some kind. And this man appeared to possess a living demonstration of it. An extremely curious feat :)

And now, I'm contemplating the usefulness of immersing myself into this field. Magick, is pretty much a type of technology designed to bring one closer to God, isn't it? Some drugs may do this, as well, even if the revelations are derived from drug-induced sources, it still brings you closer to a somewhat abstract understanding of what it is you are dealing with.

The idea of whether or not there is a great creator in all this. A loving, benevolent and kind one; then you might be needing an altered state of mind, in order to really know the answer to this question. Some people don't have the time or patience these days, and I don't blame them. But I do have time, right now and I could have patience, if I relax myself into the idea of having it.

I'll consider this magick thing, even though I already have studied it in the past and have used some of it to great effect. I'm going to ponder the ideas I've read about for years, and see whether or not it really is quackery. I already know that Crowley falls into this category, as well as certain others. I also know when I see truth, such as in Manly P. Hall or Bob Frissell. Or even in David Icke, as he discussed the idea of us all being in a holographic reality. A fairly new speculation at the time, before it was taken more seriously later, and rebranded as "simulation theory" instead.

Yep. Back to to trying to justify faith, without having to martyr myself to do it with.

To do nothing, is probably better than something

Waiting For The Miracle

Baby, I've been waiting,
I've been waiting night and day.
I didn't see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
I know you really loved me.
but, you see, my hands were tied.
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand beneath my window
with your bugle and your drum,
and me I'm up there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

Ah I don't believe you'd like it,
You wouldn't like it here.
There ain't no entertainment
and the judgements are severe.
The Maestro says it's Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

Waiting for the miracle
There's nothing left to do.
I haven't been this happy
since the end of World War II.

Nothing left to do
when you know that you've been taken.
Nothing left to do
when you're begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you've got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come.

I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come

Ah baby, let's get married,
we've been alone too long.
Let's be alone together.
Let's see

Leonard Cohen

September 21st, 1934 - November 7th, 2016

May you and your famous blue raincoat, have found peace.

Gratitude

I'm still watching that Anthony Robbin's doc, and I'm at the part where he gives a guided meditation.

Apart from everything else he's said, there was a line where he asked the audience to think of three memories in their lives, that they are extremely grateful for having.

So, I'm pausing and getting out my laptop to write down the three memories I'm grateful for.

1) That day we arrived in Canmore, my ex-girlfriend Lauren and I. We started off with smiles and laughter and sex and eyes sparkling of promise and fulfillment. Our hotel room was beyond our expectations, with a high-tech shower, three individual rooms, two big televisions, a large comfortable bed that was in a furnished bedroom and in a furnished suite. All decorated by an exquisite eye.

I am grateful for that day. The steak we've shared. The photos we've taken. The people we talked to. The ball of ice cream that fell off my cone while we were eating at a bench.

The sex we had, minutes after entering the room for the first time.

The morning, where we laid in bed listening to the radio. 80s music. Corey Hart - Never Surrender was a particular standout.

It was perfect.

and now, memory #2.

2) I am grateful for the conversation I had with Trina, the flea market psychic, a few months ago. She was kind and attentive, and listened to my ramblings with a clear and open heart. There was an instant connection between us from the moment we locked eyes on one another. Undeniable chemistry.

We were deep, loving souls. And had a lot in common with one another.

The conversation we had outside as we were smoking, is one that I'll never forget. That one moment where she looked deep inside of me and smiled, saying that I was a good man.

I was a good man.

As embarrassed as I was at the time to have let a few tears slide, I am grateful for having a stranger tell me this. In all those years of my finding it harder and harder to believe, as I grow ever more cynical with each woman I date. Until then, I become the monster that I never wanted to become, because so many people have convinced me that there was something irreparably wrong with me and that there was no way they could endure my company for longer than they did.

I am grateful for hearing those words. And knowing that they are true words, and that while I still have trouble from time to time in believing them; I continue to make effort, in trying to accept them.

Memory #3.

Credit goes to Georgina for this one.

I am grateful for all of the small moments of tenderness that you and I have shared together. The humor. The love that we felt, but didn't vocalize or felt in it's entirety, but knowing that it is only a matter of time, before we would.

I am grateful for how she dressed in that fishnet lingerie for me, and then sent my phone a photo of her wearing it, as I was driving on my way to meet her.

I am grateful for the way she flattered and flustered me, as she leaned over to sniff the back of my head and neck as we browsed around at Value Village. Making my hairs stand on end.

I am grateful for how she once asked if I could wear a sweatshirt for her, so that she would have an item of mine to smell whenever the mood strikes.

I am grateful for the kind way you suggested we play hangman on a napkin, to help combat my nervousness and hesitation, on the second date we were on.

I am grateful for the meals she cooked me. The back rubs she gave. The way she sang in the car. Her smile.

I am most grateful to have experienced her smile.

....

Think I got my three.

Two Becomes One

Two great fucking movies I've watched lately, and feel are important to mention.

1) Look Who's Back

and

2) Tony Robbins: I Am Not Your Guru

Both on Netflix. Amazing, incredible films. I am so fortunate to have had the curiosity that led me to adding both of those movies to my watch list.

So, a brief description of both is in order.

Look Who's Back is kind of a comedy/drama/fantasy about how in 2016, Adolph Hitler miraculously appears above the bunker that he originally was reported to have died within. He's alive, and walking about in modern society, with bystanders all thinking that he is a convincing and brilliant comedian acting in character. But, he is not acting. He's the real deal, and the brilliance of this somewhat hokey premise comes from taking it seriously enough to do over two hours of a character study / "what if?" that feels sincere and well thought out.

In the first part, I haven't laughed so hard in years at the screwball antics Adolph gets up to in our modern times. Such as signing up for email.

"What do you mean Adolph.Hitler@gmail.com is taken?!"

"I mean, somebody else already has your name. There's an Adolph.Hitler42 if you want that one."

"I am not Adolph Hitler 42!"

And it is so freakin hilarious to watch how straight the script plays him out. He's Adolph from beginning to end. No doubt about it.

It's recorded in Germany too.  And with real German being spoken, with some brilliant actors.

High-level brilliance. Something that Borat wishes to be, and almost was. Look Who's Back takes Borat and polishes that sucker up to near perfection.

9.7 out of 10. It really shattered my psyche towards the end.

Now, I Am Not Your Guru is what patched my psyche back together.

Anthony Robbins is incredible at what he does. Just a fantastic, tremendous human being. /Trump voice

I was in awe at how expertly he maneuvers and navigates around the dangerous terrain that lurks inside the mind of some very damaged people in the world. Those who have experienced horrific sexual abuse, and a raging sense of self-doubt and daddy issues and problems with reclaiming masculinity, etc. Robbins just gets in there and plunges himself deep into whoever he interacts with. He then completely changes their view of life and imbues it with meaning, and honor.

This is no small feat. Some of these people are psychotic, suicidal even; and Anthony just whips out his invisible little scalpel and goes to work, digging beyond the bone and into the spirit. Touching the very core of what lurks inside of all of us, that we are too afraid of revealing.

We are beings that wish to unconditionally love one another.

But we defeat ourselves in not surrendering ourselves wholly to this desire. We feel doubt and fear in doing so. We cannot love unconditionally, if there are people out there that do not deserve to be loved in such a way. People that may have abused us, physically, psychologically, sexually, spiritually.

We defeat ourselves in not being able to truly forgive, and to take back the power we have unconsciously given away to what our biggest fears have demanded of us. To have consented to such a damning bargain at such a terrible price, in order to protect the small flame of hope we nurture within the core of our beings.

Again, no need to get into any further detail, as this is good enough summary of what I took away from this documentary. People truly revealing themselves. People having epiphanies, right there on the spot; all brought about by someone who feels himself to be telling the truth. Either cooly or compassionately delivered, but the truth that each individual needs to hear about themselves.

Confirmation, is what Robbins brings to the table. A confirmation of our suspicions. A finger being pointed, and a means of fighting back.

He is the retired general that comes in to assesses a losing situation and offers his opinion.

He rarely offers suggestions too, it seems. His persuasiveness is so that he leads the lost (gulps) sheep to a path that they can use to find their way back home. He never gives advice. He only gives confrontation and confirmation of what we already know, but are too afraid to admit the truth of.

Fan-TASTIC. I'd rate this a 9.7/10 so far, and I'm not even finished watching. This is the kind of documentary you'll want to pause for brief periods at a time so you can walk around and digest the importance of whatever scene was being witnessed. And there are several worth being considered and thought about.

Yeah, it's on pause right now as I'm typing. Still 33 minutes remaining.

I'm so happy that stuff of this high-quality is being made. These small, relatively-inexpensive films hold more awe and wonder for me than anything Marvel has released at the box office. Or most any new movies these days. I've seen the wizard behind the curtain a long time ago, and I know how to tell if a movie is crafted with care and passion for the vision it attempts to execute on. And even though many of Hollywood's films are using unoriginal and uninspired ideas based on a formulaic template that they reuse and slightly alter upon, with each new release; they still lack the commitment towards authenticity and passion that everyone from the actors, to the sound guy and the extras all bring to the table.

In short, most of today's movies are made with the intention of appealing to the maximum amount of people, so as to realize the largest possible return on investment. Because of insecurity in really knowing which visionary would you want to hand the keys of the studio to; they instead play it safe, and design by committee. Ensuring that a diverse representation of characters are on screen, and that women are elevated to be heroes and racism/violence/lewd behavior are not tolerated. They pander, and when pandering is involved, often times it means that a pure vision was not executed. It automatically becomes an extension of left-wing propaganda that has invaded all of our lives without permission. It is perpetuating a set of ideals that many do not agree with, and it is in turn, alienating a great percentage of the population.

A good story, is a truthful story. A passionately told one, as well.

I better remember this.

Break On Through To The Other Side

I figured out why Justin and Seth were so friendly towards me at the end of last night.

Because they were proud of the way I carried my burdens.

And they genuinely love me for who I am.

I think that's it. I'm pretty sure it is. As flawed as they both are, they are each living by the ways of their spirits and conducting themselves with dignity and personal respect. That is a quality worth admiring in any living human being. Male or female. It is the goodness of who we are, and the happiness we wish to express or someday realize for ourselves. Even if such goodness feels defeated, it also restores itself just a little bit more each time it witnesses goodness triumphing over the evil of self-defeat.

It is namaste, "the soul in me honors the soul in you." In the most truest way, any word can ever express in such an efficient and soulful manner.

So, yep. Figured it out. That's sincere validation right there of my worth as a human being, even if I would rather be judged by those who have truly reached great heights in overcoming obstacles within their personal lives. Those are the most qualified ones to tell if I am living in truth, in authenticity, even though I constantly fail at keeping myself consistently on the path. Even when I fail, time and time again, I still manage to get up more times than the average person could. I'd rather be assessed by the life "experts" out there, before I might be able to breathe easy when it comes to troubling questions I ask of myself.

Am I good? Am I kind? What must I do to improve? How can I achieve what I want most from life? What should I commit myself to doing? How encouraged will I be, by the results? Can I achieve the results I'm looking for, in a reasonable amount of time? How much commitment really, is necessary of me to get what I want most from life? How far back must I bend over, before I'm told to have done "enough" and that I am worthy of being given my heart's deepest desire, by a power that is older and wiser than all of time?

What must I do, so that I will have God's favor? How can I know who is God? What is God? What is my relationship to God, and how can I feel faith enough to know that who I'm praying to, is real, and that whatever the entity is that is listening, has love and lessons and assistance to give me, when I most need such things? How can I know for sure, that my pleas are being heard?

And so, on and so forth. Those are difficult questions to be dealing with, and I have not felt the need of willful ignorance to avoid ever wabi...

Okay, so a loud noise just happened as I was writing this, and I saw a piece of metal fall to the ground by my gas fireplace (which is burning, at the moment). Pretty shocking, actually. I was a bit spooked.

Coincidence? I don't know. But maybe I will take its cue, and finish this post. I've gone deep again, and its..

Well, I don't know what it is I feel about how introspective I am and whether or not its a good or bad thing; but I do know, that it is a part of me that is loved. By my friends, by family, and by strangers that I come into minimal contact with. Co-workers. Cashiers.

I have gotten plenty of "Namaste"'s communicated to me non-verbally, in the silent way that spirits normally speak.

That "knowing" and "acceptance" is passed between myself, and whoever I choose as witness or participant in the authentic expressions of my mind and heart. Just opening myself up, and letting someone peek inside.

Yep. Enough chatter. No man should have to suffer the depths of these kind of questions, but I unfortunately, happen to be that man. And I have to face this situation I'm in, with all the courage I possess so that it can be conquered and evolved from.

So I can't give up. I've gotten validation. I know I'm worthwhile.

Just got to start really believing it.

And I hold myself to an extremely high standard. I truly want to be the best man I can be.

But, in order to be that, I must first believe it.

Really believe it.

And then walk the talk.

If there are others that believe in me,

then why can't I too?

A Long Ways Up From Down

Last night I went to see Animals As Leaders at the Union Hall with Justin and his brother Seth. Prog-rock / instrumental / metal band. We got there late, and missed the opening act as well as half of the second.

Young crowd, and I was probably the third oldest person there and standing next to a guy in his late 50s wearing a Pink Floyd tshirt who said he waited "three years!" to see this band live.

It was alright. The bass was kind of overpowering the guitar work, which was really awesome to hear since guitars have been regulated to the back burner for most of the last decade. I'm sure I would've liked to listen to their albums instead of live. Not much energy or excitement on the band's part, but they seemed to be having fun on stage. Guess all that intricate muscianship comes at a price.

Prior to this, I stopped at Justin's place and saw the same Hulu doll figurine that Gina got me, and though I tried putting her out of my mind once I saw that, she kept cropping up over the rest of the evening.

Like, when I was watching the show and saw a young couple in front of me touching each other.. well, I was missing her to do that with. She came in flashes, and.. this melancholy kind of became this thing I had to fight against the rest of the night. It didn't matter whether I was watching the show, or having drinks at Boston Pizza with the guys after. Her face just kept popping up.

I don't know if I somehow gave away my feelings, but Seth asked me if I was still going out with "that girl" and I said no, I wasn't.

"Still heartbroken, huh?" he asks. And I said yeah... I was.

Am.

"I'm sorry man," he says. With a sincerity that I appreciated.

We got to talking about his last relationship, and his ex cheated on him before breaking up the next day. He's pretty adamant about not talking with her or wanting to get back together. But he does think of her off and on, and I don't blame him. I used to work with his ex, and she was a rare breed. Tall, blond, smart, playful and.. phew.. did she ever have some hoo-has on her.

But, yeah. She cheated on him, and he rebounded relatively quick into a three year relationship with a girl he met off of eHarmony.

At least he could go on living knowing he had a good reason to hate on her.

I don't. Apart from how we broke up, I really don't have any good reasons to hate on my ex and be able to move on.

Kind of .. hmm, no. I don't wish that I did, either. I think it would be worst if I found I was cheated on. But maybe.. maybe this is worse than even that.

Being rejected the way I was, still hurts.

But, I can't quite.. convince myself that.. I'll.. I can move on. That I deserve better.

I don't think I deserve better, when I already had the best.

(sighs)

The guys and I had a decent time. At BPs, both of them drank themselves silly, prompting Seth to hand over his car keys to me. Gotta say, I've never seen a car with so many dashboard warning lights come on all on at once.

Well.. I don't know what exactly happened at the end once I drove back to Justin's apartment; but both of the guys became really affectionate towards me. Fist bumps, hand shakes and hugs.

Maybe they could sense I wasn't in the happiest of moods. I don't know. I did try to mask it, and I did throw out some dumb jokes, but.. I.. guess I couldn't fake how I was really feeling.

And, that's something I've noticed a lot about myself. I just can't fake it very well. I couldn't fake it while with Gina, and I couldn't fake it with any of my other exes. I mean, I could, for a little while, but eventually the mask slips and I'm left nakedly revealing myself.

I don't want to fake things either. But, sometimes I really do get sad. And nobody likes wanting to be around someone who is sad, or negative. I always try and put a brave face on. But maybe, maybe I should own up to my feelings and just.. not be ashamed of them. I'm sure everyone has felt the way I do at some point in time or another.

But.. *shrugs* ... That's just me. I don't like being pitied in case I do take responsibility for the way I feel. I don't want to be looked down upon and thought of as having thin skin.

Well..

I don't know anymore. Earlier in the day, I found courage enough to reactivate my OkCupid account and thank God, she had not reactivated hers. But, I messaged a girl and made sure to rewrite my profile so that it was as funny and interesting as I could get it; and when I next logged on, I saw that she visited my profile and didn't bother sending a reply.

I hate that feeling. She sounded like a good match. Spiritual. Enjoyed reading. Likes zoning out to vinyl records and having deep meaningful conversation.

Evidently I was wrong, I suppose. She didn't seem to think I was worth talking to.

Maybe I'm trying too hard. Putting too much pressure on myself. But, I've.. I do have thin skin. There's only so much rejection I can take before I really get cynical. Even more so than I already am.

So, yeah. I'm at the bottom of the well right now. Looking up out of the darkness. Reminiscing about the times I've lived and played in the light. Wanting those days to return.

And.. I kept getting this nagging feeling that... as weird as this sounds, I need to "raise" my vibration somehow.

Yeah.. new-agey nonsense, but I am really suspicious about how coincidences appear when I am focused on personal development. I don't think I've ever "tried" at getting any of the girls I ended up being in a relationship with. With a few exceptions, most of the time these girls just came onto me and I was rather... ahem, blasé about the whole affair until the opportunity for a relationship emerged.

And that's where things seem to go wrong. The second I stop being blasé, and more interested and involved in the other person; is when I seem to cause them to lose interest. I hate that. I hate thinking that in order to keep someone around, I have to play it "cool" and not allow passion and excitement to get the better of me. Because that's the kiss of death right there.

He who cares the least, holds the most power in a relationship.

So true.

Except in Gina's case. Where such an approach didn't work.

I..

(sighs) I'm still thinking about mailing her a Christmas gift. I have been working the details out in my mind and its going to be a fairly low-key affair. Just a simple note, her tupperware container and those two things I ordered for her kids. That's it.

I'm not going to ramble on in some letter explaining how I still think about her and how much I love her and want to be with her and yada yada, whatever. That's desperation. Nobody respects or sympathizes towards anyone who is desperate.

Because there is something wrong with desperate people that makes them instantly unattractive. No matter how attractive they might be.

I think it comes down to confidence in one's own ability to live a happy and meaningful life without the involvement of somebody else. That's a tough one for me to wrap my mind around, because it means I have to drop focus on finding myself a good woman to be with. I just have to focus on my life instead of hoping for someone to come along and magically bring me back to life.

And, that's where this "raising" of vibration comes from. I have to do that on my own. I have to find happiness in myself and my life first, because to delegate it onto someone else, is pressure that they do not want to have to be responsible for relieving. I understand that.

Such a.. mind fuck, really. I really get deep into my head sometimes when I probably shouldn't be taking it all so seriously.

When Seth found out I wasn't with "that girl" anymore, his eyes lit up and told me how lucky I am to be in the situation I was in.

I didn't have the heart to explain to him why I didn't agree.

Hmm. I have to leave here pretty quick. Going out with my mom for dim sum in a half hour.

Well..

It's a long ways up from down.

And I have to swing the pendulum as gently as I can.

Regardless of what I'm feeling.

Hmph.

Life goes on.