People like moths, evening as night, and an open coffee place as a light source: a meeting point of the unexpected ensues, as surely as a dance of the will-less would. I was there as one of them, when I decided the next day again for a walk and a rewarding energizer. A little earlier this time, to depart about the moment I arrived the day before. The same set of people, the same choices and voices, an uncanny rehearsal of yesterday. The chaotic woman with a plastic bag full of receipts, herself not sure whether she talks to anyone, or if to anyone her words bear meaning. The bearded man, with clothes cleaner than he would ever be, always looking up from his book. The restless traveler, sighing, waiting, wary, looking around aimlessly for recognition. The young two baristas with the same skin complexity and youthful presence, matching the very coffee they serve eagerly. And I, the friendly youngster dressed in black, wearing a coat, or is it really a coat, sat in the corner by the exit watching people pass by from under my cap. The same people in the same places and same events at the same time late in the evening. Unexpectedly predictable, or coincidence? Even repetition is unexpected and my life is rich of variation, for each moment, I think, as I continue the walk back, warm pastry in my coat pocket. Maybe I should go less often. I tell myself not to be fooled by seeing things just because I recognize them, but I fail to soothe myself, as in the corner of my eye, something gloomy really watches me, standing, halting my pace... Mannequin in the window in the dark, why stand there, impalpably alive? Not moving like people would to illuminated places, happily, warm, only waiting to be moved. You always sleep. But I realize, I don't know what moves me, and I don't know why I wait.
The abjection of static childhood innocence objectivity as seen from the soulless is incomparable beauty, they who can't be possessed will not possess, but know the measures of demons. Reflections are worlds when interfered with, will be desensitized and polluted in it's root for trespassing. Impersonal connections can be made and are doors to be ignored unless having them set up by the self. History tells that dead ends will reappear until touched by those who are damned by taking the path and await the trial of courageously taking on the agitated definition. It is considered destiny by many. Techniques of interfering and accessing reflections are not a matter of the unlearned and weak. Only when knowing what to do, should there be a way of addressing definitions of the extremities. Visiting is to be avoided at all costs. Astral time travel of the self is frowned upon, and as the body ages, detained by time, time travel can become an aspect of great confusion, but rejoice of destination too. The vacant are victimized as a sole defense tactic and constantly attested by evil, if not repressed with astral egoist reminiscences of fate and destiny, such as lucid dreaming, walking, projecting and practicing, and searching. Because there is nothing to get, they can spawn demons when trained and sense presence at ease and taunt them for study. Whilst remaining sober there is nothing to fear of their presence, such as autonomous movement of lifeless matter. Rationality is the key, whereas the body counts as the main cause of the effect, knowing it was invited. The spiritual manipulation of the physical world aren't just manifestations of the will of what's beyond comprehension. It can be the works of the living, or interference of the self. Experimentation of invoking telekinetic powers are directly a result of assessing the self mentally to hosting paranormal and supernatural abilities as copied/lend from visitations of spirits and their energy. The absence of empathy, and having worldview drought/rational eagle view is being able to be perplexed about perplexed subjects and knowing it. The field of programming perplexity, once more is a leg in a bath of boiling water, and can be succeeded when strong enough and trained. This field sensed, addressed, witnessed, is the front door to the street of the world of the imagination versus the impossible, dead and expelled. The heart is an ear of said projections. Voices, static, interference, movements, silhouettes, archetypes, sounds, presences, should all be taken seriously for their cause, source and implementation. The environment is your constant medium to read for signals. A pond of ripples from the sky. The newbie will not easily discriminate or want to discriminate between power and repression. The student will consciously benefit from distinguishing features, impressions and expressions of the outlines of the astral self and surrounding field. The weakened empowered will loose control and can be overpowered by mistakes when not paying attention to rectifying them. The outlines of possession are in the distance and to be fended off. Actual possession is impossible, but habitation from indirect intersections and stray tactics can wear out the receiving spectator, or specter trying to cool down and heal during stressful, emotional boundaries of the physical self. Emotional and upset people are normally bowing to their oppressor and possessor, attracting attention and often inflicting damage or expressing the will to do so. Being irritable and easily antagonized are the main aspects to consider one's state of possession. Becoming an authority is the next level of engagement and retrospection. From there on, powers become true powers and available by having mastered the counter-possessive strategies. Manipulative counterpossession as a power can be achieved after a gradual indulgence in the surreal world, and being preoccupied with insidious conceptions of the spiritual / theophysical and their factors of engagement. The vacancy invited in your soul can leave a footprint, an impression without lending power from the source. The spider web for spirits to pass through only registers, not try to interfere. Putting to use powers within the range of authority might result in detainment or exclusion of future development/reception from the frequency used to achieve the associated ability. Forgetting them and paying no attention to them/ a failure to understand an translate them too. It ages the body as a fixed coordinate in the landscape of sail able realms, and makes the life force become power of the flesh and awaken/searching and become more socially dependable. Innocence and ignorance can be punished in the long run for rudimentary assigned proportions. Actively shifting your shape to consciously put more weight/attention/definition towards preferred abilities/ranges/frequencies might gain the reward/shadow/attention of and has the risk of making the flesh more socially dependable. Being demonized or seen as invitational to the occult can be a direct result of affiliation. Dependency is closely related to addiction, and the next step is going down the path of demonization of the self, ergo instilling codependency aimlessly in your environment. Psychopathy is the danger. A failure to make ends meet with realms, conflicting observations, altered states of confusion might end in exclusion and can be seen as mental illness such as schizophrenia. The body can be relinquished by the spirit by not recognizing it for the safe haven it is. A second form of exclusion is the claim of power and ability, false authority and being generally deceptive while failing to meet up with real goals. These haunting people with split personalities can be overly attractive or a presence quite disturbing and intimidating. The danger here is being held captive by lies and illusions. You don't loose power but it's being held hostage for as long as you grant attention to the ones afflicted, and this curse might take the same while to wear off as the time/intensity it was active thereafter. This is all due to their soul being captured into the subjective matter of space and time and try to cling on the past and the abilities lost. They are walking with their head against the ceiling, looking out windows trying to elevate the seen as higher forms you're already familiar with. A sense of soullessness will be approached by these impostors as an image to make it seem as if it were a false self. Depression, better said negativity is the danger. Hazardous and distracting is their jealousy of other unspent people and walkers. Returned to the self assessment, the energy will reboot and sometimes possibly lend uncommon/unfamiliar practices from having hosted a parasite. The parasites abandoned energy can randomly and unexpectedly either demotivate or boundlessly empower. This can be treated as if to be shielded/educated from there on and to be approachable, strong and exemplary in respect, to much approval and synchronicity of the consciousness, preying parasite. It takes sometimes an effort to find your equal, or when found one. They simply do not all appreciate the automation of social activity and make painful demands. Note that one can not encompass each power. The potent are assigned tasks in order to rule. Relinquishing responsibilities will reduce you to the physical subjectivity of the matter of subdued space time. The benefit of physical health plays a major part of maintaining the addiction/dependency upon the presence/availability of the associated powers/abilities/subscribed guardians. Offer practice and reward their affinity to prolong the relationship the properties you and your spiritual connections have with the physical world and you. This will be rewarded by entities in private, and opens unique doors to new visitations. Practice makes perfect, and it is reasonable to have surreal demands to be met in order to continue contact. Being released has everything to do with failing to prove yourself worthy, and/or understanding the terms and conditions in the first place. The ongoing quests received are, measured to their frequency, practicability and reason, appropriate to the level of the ego's current state of power and struggle to maintain the level of authority. Easy and laziness can either mean a currency wearing off and becoming natural, or degrading yourself by neglecting the decreased frequency's sensed measures. Self assessment is the key here to becoming acquaint with what the ego and the identity that's being formed to influence the ego want. Currencies measured might be known better as the process of thought. The clue of races lie in resemblance of preference divided by fear of thought, and clinging to the illusion of the physical boundary of the identity. Evil affection of the known and xenophobia are social measures that will meet up with the law of exclusion appropriate. The invention of love might drive the numbed receptacles to autonomously pursue goals that are constructed from the ruins of negativity to being bound and subdued. This form of self destruction called civilized responsibility has a success factor due to archaic assessments of the self, the workers and the illusions of the imagination and creative. The invention of belief and clinging to mental concepts, such as the false belief that reaching self attained goals of material prowess, fake social status, as a moral guidance is the ultimate barrier against freedom. The promise of safety in social reliability and self destructive means of gaining civilized reactions of recognition of gloss overed red flags, and achievement of goals that replace nothing, is the breeding ground for greed and insatiability. Boredom and impulsiveness, closed mindedness, (fast) inaccurate judgement calls, and superficiality are warning signs. Registered signs of sources found their way to the conceivable, is better known as...
I admit my flaws but the ''ulgy'' sentences are an approach of what they had to be (they initially sounded great and the first draft was deleted by accident - I didn't remember how I crafted it precisly, only the meaning of it and some of the essential words I used. It was a very impulsive piece at first and I am still glad with a second place.
Poetry Contest #257 -- Theme: "Voices" The wrong pillow please pillow, grin winning my heart was a game as a thief I cover the hassock acock my head shackled while I listen to its whispers wishing it'd stop I'd take off my sock to put it in have cold feet and still catch no sleep it must be dreaming because it's not real there's no entrance to allow for my heel
But if I were a Muslim would I denounce practicing my faith until everyone stopped abusing it for terrorism and fatalism and Salafi (no, not selfie)? Just to lend this gift of Allah that is being a human and making a statement? Religious strike? I'm honest if I say I feel a bit... down and sad if I see a Muslim talking about his faith and what it means to be a true Muslim, practicing. It's inadvertently a defensive reflex of what history tells us how those poor regions suffer under religious indoctrination. They defend the same religion as what those terrorists and criminals and man-slaughterers claim to defend. Believe it or not; it's the very same Koran. Intellectual Jews did this when the Jews were doing similar things; humanitarian crimes because one man had religious authority. They denounced Judaism because it was not the best time for Judaism. I look up to Judaism for their practice; in modest forms and a bit silly. Take the wailing Wall... The Hadj is just sheer mass hysteria. You just expect them to keep going until they drop dead like an ant mill.
Conscious What property does matter have that life does not have? Certainty of being submitted to physics. Life superimposes free will over matter it possesses The body, the habitat. It is guided by a force of fate and destination But that's a common universal law. Life can sense conscious and cage it into essence Presented in the brain processes information and collects ideas to fund choice
Death's mirror. What properties does a black hole have? Any at all? It's a grave and grief revolves around it as a last barrier forming a succulent shell Aren't these washing winds around a knot of suspended laws of nature forming a radiant cloud, poisonous vapor a mirror's edge that's not part of it's host but it's host absorbs the nuclear energy as physics eradicates itself A sponge that attracts but cannot inflate it deflects what it consumes force fed, it force defecates leaving one to say One day time will come where fractals end and do not transcend a diffraction where it all sits The ''all the way down'' turtle The chicken hatch particle
Don't fear death because you fear life don't fear life because it's salvation is death, Let the days pass by. I was born too early, and ready. Overlooked overcooked. All I will remember at this happiness is the thought I am forgotten and once was. And that it was not my time just yet. But I will not remember and question the very same things I question now. And take granted I what I question no longer. And I don't know who I will be but I hear many names. Aquarius. Will have enough earthly amusement to indulge in. But sometimes be completely unapproachable on a deeper level, since I did not invest more into these things in a previous life, when I still had enough sense for it and cared about it, and understood it. A material person, as opposed to me now.
Deem those a nihilist who don't feel drawn to commentary. Deem those naive who keep reading. Fear nothing, agnothingcist. Denounce faith and religion, and slumber on, forget the wake. For it's root is within humanity embedded. Our essence is captured in ink, and it is written. All praise the word, the name. Like daylight cages the night, your thoughts of somewhere else become inclined with your attention for the light shines words into the night. Diverse kinds of nature, direction can be caged. Deranged syntaxis of the soul is food for the religious fanatic. Now the days are yours, for oppression belongs to the past. Liberated from the symbolical judgement of the deranged religious. Do close your eyes, and only in the loneliest moments admit, dare to be honest. Instead don't care, submit, weak for instigation, fear only the truth. Decision equals boundlessness. Salvation equals ecstasy. And some other day evade a boundary, in the most far edges of mental space time. And nothing more, because distraction means conceit. Fear not, atheist. Negligence is otherworldly and nothing like the cycle. Gravity is all that's needed to keep the recyclatheist from insanity. Congratulations to the unapproachable. "And there is no gain from essence..." Well... Maybe atheism just means you get to think you are... The struggle is real (and meaningless). And use mindfulness, ability of observation to strike down others. They won't even know what hit'em. Really, they'd be clueless, ignorant even. Selfless, efficacious, unnoticed, self adulation, almost aspiring. What a fluke, oh, uplifting grace. Arrogance? Criticize left and right, it means be supportive, to help people build up their body of work. Any setup needs improvisation, so why not even let it be build by constructive criticism, right? To pharisaic grip much?
Chapter one. Farewell? "You are a miserable prisoner of your own desire, you say it is an aspiration to immediate on your craving, but it is always for more. I've tried to see through it, to help you. It seems you've become blind to recognize between resource and responsibility. I am neither. It's becoming ever so difficult to recognize you, Nemo. Marge is right, I should reef the cause." "You knew what I meant, Simon. You two are just pot and kettle," Marjory interrupted. Neither had noticed her presence. "I'm sorry", she continued, "I'll just leave". This was not the moment to collect reprimands, she knew. "Indeed. Look in the mirror." Nemo's raspy voice filled the, besides the princes, empty room, forming a cloudy suffocating carpet together with the smoke and stench of liquour. Simon knew Nemo made anything look acceptable, no matter how degrading Simon found Nemos behaviour around ancestral heritage such as this place, the throne room. "I can just as easily blame you for the betray and dishonesty to the world. Are you loyal? I've continuously inspired with my grand plans, but I can't have a little fun? Luckily we're brothers, we have no time for each other's business." Nemo was quiet for a second and looked piqued at his shunned little brother. "Just admitting you're jealous is easier, then we'll work on meeting those demands, hm?" he hissed between his teeth and added "leave me alone if you don't want or can't indulge in..." "... In what? I'm not just anyone like the rest of them! There's no virtue in depleting your personal sense of pleasure, to trade it for numbness and apathic mindless binging. Your proposal is a dead end." Simon tried to not sound as much like Marjory as he spotted Nemo's mocking look, who didn't seriously try to offend or blame him. He wouldn't even reject Simon should Simon ever share how he felt, but pity the indignant air monger. "At least I'm not bothering anyone cluelessly, ranting about ethics. Nobody likes a sanctimonious know it all no-good. Please spend your time usefully by what you think is right in your design, besides, I already have Marge to worry." Thus Simon realized Nemo was right. The people were united unanimously for Nemosia, not Simoria. He replied: "There should be no rule about it. You're an example and people recognize you for who they are, what they do and aim for unlike me". Nemo nodded, and said, slightly keeping his head bowed: "These aren't the hypocritic classical times where a life and position that suits somebody as questionlessly conservative as you is adulated and predicted, prescribed - in a way, you will always be a leader, one to envy and look up to because you are truely sovereign to your self and sanity. I always believed in you, but should I have raised you? Impossible, you always know best and people know. You are an example too but it gets old, enough is enough, we know it already." "My path is unpredictable, what I stand for isn't. You are my complete opposite, nothing but an empty shell. Seeing the destruction accompanied by your reckless pollution doesn't dissapoint: Nemosia asks for it. Your path isn't for me." Simon left. Having set enough of and example, he wasn't needed around, he even felt barely responsible to look after his life he left behind. Nobody had to miss him. The journey he set out on made him catch up with what he's been missing out on. When prince Simon would return, he would be grown up for sure. But would he be more grown up then his brother King Nemo? Thus, will there be a rerun for who's more suitable for the throne? Chapter Two: Ah, look who's back. King Nemo's grip to his regiment was a tight fit, but subtly there, like as if his crown was a glove on the hand of a body. The body of a junky with perfectionist, germopgobic tendencies. Simon's unsurprised return came as an itch; a rash with his prominent entourage. "Let's talk, brother Simon, back after so long. So bright! You've changed for the better. So did I! Well, nothing changed particularly, and things couldn't have been any better, but it feels good to say. We're just older. Do you want to sit on the throne? Try it, it's mine, so I allow you to." "Nemo, your leadership couldn't have been more accurate to his municipality as yours is. Yes, the streets are paved with gold, but beneath this cloak of make belief sanity resides a diseased system barely managing to conceal the desperation that alternates lust driven deprivation. I returned to restore morality in the land, and I'm not alone. The lazy and arrogant intellecual in society need to understand why machines have no more prominence then is allowed. As if only sentient beings are entitled to assume roles in which lies meaning - disregarding the actual irrelevance such erratic fascism heralds: "suffer to endure" has become your working class' slogan. I'm here to prove there can be no pride in such policy, let alone joy." Simon knew the contrast between he and his brother has sharpened, as their inharmonious debate carried on. "What faction, as far as it exists, have you been manipulated by on your excursion? Is your betrayal official? Are you going to save me with reason?" Nemo argued with his hands sarcastically trembling mid air, making his voice jump. "I'm perfectly in control. Live and let live. There shall be no right hand to aid me and my reign. Enjoy your stay, and don't worry too much..." he concluded with a sigh. "You have no enemies, that is corect, Nemo", Simon lied to reassure the head of state. The world remembers Nemosia's relentless history better then any Nemosian would admit things happened. The nameless kingdom now knows peace thanks to it's infamous foreign policy before the Prophetic King took his throne and it was Nemo. And there was no need for warfare anymore. "But I infiltrated abroad. I remained incognito but only a select group of enlightened intellectuals knew my identity; that's why they called me Trinity. They were my collegues in study, my apostles if you will. Except I wasn't the teacher, but the illeterate." The king's head turned red of shame. "Abroad? You are a daredevil, I know you had it in you. We're not alone after all! And you were crowned?" He laughed briefly, puncturing the moment of sarcasm, becoming tense again, apart from his relieved, stuck in disbelief face. Simon looked at his creased facial expression, sweat glistening on his brother's forehead. "Sometimes it's hard to believe..." Simon didn't finish his sentence. Mentioning the wealth and welfare of all the enemies of his royal domain and home, the world economy if you will, would annoy Nemo, as he believes every territory outside Nemosia is infertile, barbaric, in ruins, or left to bleed after failed conquer attempts or succesful sabotage attempts. The increasingly globalized community, obliquely not displeasing the rotten apple that is Nemosia, celebrates advancement in serenity. Officiously. "I don't try to understand religion. How can it be a pastime activity? Or a cause? The weak need strength from outside influences," Nemo paused to look at Simon by implication to make sure he listened, "that's where poor lifestyle and grief come into play. So they make up stories of spirituality, to discriminate between pleasure being bad and defiance and faith being good, people like me get cursed at." Shyness marred the brothers. "Who invented religion? A griefer, who needed to bow his head over the masses who seek demanding activities for fun, because he couldn't take it anymore and went sober. The erratic age has left the world ignorant fillers, people who just haven't turned yet because of faith. These innocent and honest bobbleheads think it is virtuous to put strength in honesty and innocence. How ridiculous, because we're all like that by nature. Name one person who isn't innocent and honest in their own way. Anyway, modern times are scientific. Welcome back to society, my little brother Simon", he smiled. "I'm happy to see Nemosia being so loyal to their king, and a king so loyal to his following. Could I wish any better?" complimented Simon. "We grow old. We don't change. Neither do you. That's all good. But where are your traditions? Where have you been? Did you receive funds by my government?" "No, king Nemo." Anyone as powerful as Nemo would be at least slightly suspicious, so Simon acknowledged him with glee. "King? Hail the king! All hail! Me!" His pale green-blue-gray eyes sparkled, wherein a golden opioid glimmer disappeared as quickly as it arised. "So you made friends?" he remembered, "is your little role-playing party ready for the times of their lives? Their dull background means nothing once inside Nemosia", his voice sounded strong. "Our guests are here for cultural exchange. I was a guests in their home one time, where I studied. We'll carry on here, and our virtuous results will help the economy..." Simon said to calm Nemo. "Suit yourselves... But remember you're in my palace, besides, what gives? Itsn't like your hatred for commercialism has any place here- any installment other then those in favor of the celebratory nature of our kind will be further inspected. Go free. It's paradise." Chapter Three. Nonsense? His mouth dry, Simon thought about why he mentioned his personal folklorean description. Nemo denounced it as being fairytales. The stories weren't accurate enough to be about todays specific occurences, according to him. Simon thought the opposite; so many things he and everyone around him had in common with the transcript, it couldn't be coincidental. Nemo said this was done purposely to make ayone empathize with the content. Indeed, the story had a open end. But trying to apply the story to other people just felt otherworldly, silly. But nothing special had happened during his lifetime or his brother's, that would make him think there were altered properties to the ancient folklore, other then it being entertainment. In those days miracles were considered products of the...
As much as I like writing I like acting, when it's not difficult to indulge into the stuff that's written to be part of, credibly. The epitome is a movie (after a book, plausibly) with the credits looking like this: Joe Bloggs presents Joe Blogg in a Joe Bloggs production The life of Joe Bloggs directed by Joe Bloggs Screen play by Joe Bloggs From the novel by Joe Bloggs Picture by Joe Bloggs Joe Bloggs as Joe Bloggs and every other role story by Joe Bloggs based on the life of Joe Bloggs music by Joe Bloggs For example. Well, there is going to be, essentially, a variable needed, a commitment to create an acceptable movie or play. My point is, given that the content is interesting and original, if the character is shallow because the actor is shallow, this wouldn't be such a great idea. But if the actor is talented and gifted to play different parts, then we'd have something. The example above could be covering an entirely fictional story from a single creator, but it seemed nicely fitting to the title of today's blog entry to have it about himself, which isn't necessarily a sign of having delusions. But I'm not going to give color to the content of whatever Joe Bloggs has to entertain us. In this case we can only imagine, if it has to say anything credible about his life, and whether that is a good thing, or not, stirs my suspicion.
While there may be motives for psychological abuse like financial or material gain, or personal growth in social 'skill' and emotional exploit, that is rather understandable. I find it difficult to believe some people do not realize it timely they are being tricked. Out of personal experience, I can say it is exciting to explore the possible directions a relationship can take when a women has something in store for you or vice versa. This search is one of uncertainty, and can have both parties with hidden feelings or background and intentions. The act of manipulation cannot succeed when either one party is too aware of what's going on, I guess. Argumentation on psycho dynamics fall in the water when people choose to be objectified willingly, but it doesn't make the process less accurate. If thing have went different, I might have had to face several conditions/responsibilities to deal with, in case certain feelings have been more serious/severe and would impact other people. This includes a fiance (not me), and eventually three/four families would have been interrupted/surprised in the possible outcome of a dominantly blossoming forbidden love. While this was felt on the surface, the adventure never went further then innocent playful cheating, secretly, on a one-night stand. I was no spouse material enough. And there was little manipulation from her side needed (or allowed) as a result (or as prevented?). Since she took constant initiative mostly, not really a thinker, unlike me. Women can be manipulated too, although I think this is more difficult it probably isn't as rare. On either side, the ''victim'' has to be constrained/impaired in freedom to some extent, because I think it is human nature to be accurately cautious (I mean plain intuition here, not all the pathological being suspicious/jealous issues). When this behavior is not prevalent/damaged I think one is left to devices of the psyche on the pathological side. This is still healthy because it is evidence of curiosity and will/hope, could certainly substitute love but can herald risks and impulsiveness. But people deserve to know better, the happiness of intuition to take on decisions is best. The best outcome is being manipulated out of a world of trouble and trauma, not into it. (Still, beware of something like Stockholm syndrome or the likes, which gives false hope only). This could be the way to true freedom and trouble free consciousness, even with a possible place to deal with demons from the past or places to evade this with healthy distraction. In my opinion, psychopaths seek distraction from their secret safe place, in the peace of other people. They often manipulate people into a world of trouble, suffering, constraint, 'heartbreak' (a popular way to call it) etc, instead of necessarily opening a door to betterment. Full circle, unless this relation indeed is a door for healing, as psychopaths are people too and you might give them something to offer in return. You just might be alone for that sake. With any relation there's a massive factor of unpredictability, and this gap should be cemented by trust in the end because who likes second guessing anyway. I'm talking circles, wait I was going somewhere. I saw this couple get in the metro (subway). I'm not sure in what way they were related. The man was rocking back and forth, as if he had major cramp, and the woman seemed as if she was trying to apologize because he did not behave. He might have had pain but it might have been a matter of tics. He didn't look as if he'd suit any nine to five job and if he's not an artist, I guess he lives off healthcare. She might have been with him to guide him or something. Well, my point here is. This man might have not liked her attitude but that's just me. Why didn't she change her attitude? I normally accept and respect anyone who looks like they can afford a meal everyday, do something with their life, and care about being groomed. Somewhere it's rude to say I especially adore psychiatric patients in who are in good condition and self sufficient, on their own feet to their full extent, because it implies covert pity, but I know life as a psychiatric patient. A lot patients are healthier and happier than common people you meet everyday anywhere. Many just have to cope with minor discrepancies, but wouldn't harm a fly, like the man here with the chaotic haircut, haggard look in his eyes and never fixated position. There shouldn't be anymore setback in their lives then anyone else's. This woman was respectable too in her appearance, but at first sight, in my opinion not somebody who wakes up everyday to realize they aren't needed anywhere because of some condition. I know, don't judge a book by it's cover, yeah, I don't know whatever she was going through despite her well dressed appearance and overall presence. But she looked discontent, irritated, and brought to it by the company she was with (not me). But it might just have been because of the delayed departure to the opera because her nephew or step brother (they didn't really look related) had just suddenly recovered from being constipated. Maybe that happened just before. I like it when women are confident, reserved and not blatant and judgmental. (I'm not a woman, so that's not hypocrite, is it? lol.) But most men who are can't open up, who are jerks, want to be perfect, impressive, act tough get this kind of attention to women. And these men are often narcissist and bullies. And I'm not a woman, so I'm not sure what this does to their intuition, but it makes me very suspicious, and makes me want be as far away from this kind of spurious people as possible. That often means I know or think I know what my place is, and because some people don't they will get in my face because they don't feel confident. I don't understand where to go with these people. And do with people who have a sense of self worth. As a figure of speech, if it wouldn't be as filthy, maleficent, and unergonomic to hang around junkies and beggars, I certainly would if they had a sense of identity and didn't have covert bad malevolent intentions to put me in trouble. Usually I have no time to figure this out because they need to take a shower first. A lot more well groomed and wealthy people then I wished there'd be, care nothing about investment in each other and have a sick, infantile mind, incapable of honest, modest pure love. They more often choose to hunt and abuse you then not. Simply "because", and not because of you deserved it or you're special or anything. They resemble on the inside what the homeless junkies are on the outside, but are afraid of what you think about them and they try to hide it. These people are prevalent in psychiatry too, and a pain in the ass. It's not as fun to point out they misbehave as you might wish (out of a sense of righteousness) because you're supposed to end or point out some kind of wrong act, which essentially isn't fun in the first place to anyone, and very difficult to tell someone with a lack of moral knowledge. It's not easier, because the hidden people who do the same (rationally disregard/overruling/corrupting anyone's sense of right and wrong) would stay out of the way of any judgement, as if it'd kill them, and thus for both kind of people there's nothing to lose. You lose if you're in their company, if you feel there's no point to argue with people who will harm you as a means of winning your respect because in that position they're superior, ruler and therefore better, at any given chance. Get it? You ARE better, no doubt. They're broken, some show it, others hide it. Some women act as if some people who lack control are the ones to stay away from (or give this impression in public) and cling to people to really stay away from who control they way they want to be in control and make you feel bad for the heck of it. Couldn't be any healthy if you ask me, but I never said feminists couldn't choose to be major sluts in abusive relationships and irrational people too. I don't know about this couple, I didn't pay that much attention and I had to get out the next stop. They made me think, and seemed like nice people, but the first impression I got gave me a bad taste, and it wasn't because any of them misbehaved (it wasn't the kind of people to misbehave or are narcissist what I discussed or anything, of that I am sure.). In the end not really my business, nor can I tell or wish to tell the woman to be more open minded, since anyone's should be free to feel and think the way they do. 'Mkay. But it goes over my head kinda. Talk about those situations where a girl crushes on this bully-type and they get along until either of them are bruised enough emotionally/physically for other people to get them back on their horse. The way women are manipulated doesn't apply to the opposite gender the same way, I guess. This is different to any individual, in any relationship but I think common sense is the same to everyone who had a happy and free childhood. Yes, those are people who will want to try to convince you your childhood was a lie in order to keep you dependable, no matter your type of childhood, that's the essence, it doesn't matter to anyone, so it shouldn't matter to you (thus says the psychopath). Wait, I'm talking in dead ends. I was going somewhere. I think because women are different then men, there's difference in their role in a relationship (well duh) but this shouldn't be the reason for abusive relations to take place, my heart says. I need to investigate this image further. I need to watch out because I might jump to conclusions. No need to offend anyone. The cliche is that women depend on a sense of intuition more then men do. It is often stated that men do not have intuitive intelligence. I find this hard to believe. But something a girl can cope with, a boy can not. That's nature. Unless you're Arnold Schwarzenegger, men's heads might explode if they...
Just another brick in the wall. Not a rant about rants, although that would be an expected rhetorical cold reaction to follow up, go right ahead. A social rant.What is so special about eye-googling into the lives of others when you know nothing compares to you. Is it escapism, perhaps. I often have a imaginative narrative that is in a way nothing short as if read from pages of a book called my life. This is sometimes a reason to sit behind the so called drawing board when inspiration hits. The setback is not style, not performance, not the writing. It's the inner voice that doesn't shut, but fears that a story will not be received or will be looked down on, in a way that no trial and error process is going to make things better. I can't tell I'm a pleaser for that matter, as far as my audience concerns. A writer only needs his world and his objects relations, some syntax, logic and drive. Ideally. Blueprinting a mindset that was supposed to be able to start filling pages on the convey is utopic, but not unique as a concept. Some might argue episodes are created by a few variables from a grab bag surrounding a, likely, character or set of characters as a constant factor. A sense of status quo leaves one to the choice to act out on it, and make one's inner senses sensible. This means getting there. Once on the road, however, realizing you're not reaching a goal, is part of accepting you're going to get there. Productively, you'll achieve, but you'll know when it's time to open up if you have a beautiful product for the world. Then you'll receive fans, essentially. If you won't get there, it's not necessarily due to not having the speculated X factor, or missing the spot marked X, but maybe it's because of the inability to make an impact even when you're noticed. This unfortunate thing to happen might be considered as giving up or trying too much or might indicate being in the wrong place in the wrong moment to achieve, success or recognition. Try archeology, and start digging up old cows from over the past hundred years. Try making a reconstruction from what has been covered in dust. There's a whole new world, if you're not studying or otherwise acquainted in the field as avant gardist. You'll become obsolete, even as a master, your work will be covered by specs of dust that will be from the masses' rustling about, like me right now. This rant is a spec of dust, and I don't realize it's meaning or relevance. You'll not only become obsolete by realizing you have been cautiously trying to reinvent the obvious wheel, but you'll realize there's a forest of digression and oblivion that is the past. You were born a case of ignorance, clay, to be remodeled into a structure by repetition of the known, as you learn, it has been known, but you weren't. You aren't a leading example or a revolutionary oracle. You're something to look at, so people can say that's not the way it works. At this time, you'll do right to start building a wall, sit on top of your castle, keep one ear open, but drown in your private world to start creating solidity from liquid shapeless averageness. Unique, solid chunks? Perhaps detailed descriptions of an arrange of views, perspectives, feelings and experiences, comprehensible and shared by many others. Can only good come from this? Maybe you'll find a person who thinks you're a unique spokesman, who was on the way of inventing that very wheel, that is actually in the minds of many.