Old folks

I have sat coincidentally next to two old folks, a golden couple, in the last two weeks, and thought how we'd see less and less of people growing old together. I still feel they're the luckiest of people, I often find myself envious. How beautiful it'd be to grow old together with someone you love.

Less is more

I'll speak eyes, not words. You can only dump when you speak more than necessary. No matter how interesting your message, don't think a witty argument will save the day. Express how you feel with actions, less is more.

Character is shown more by a display of dominance, a mastery of our emotional state, just like in meditation we aim at quieting the mental chattering voices. It is not what we say but how and when; keep them in suspense, if possible. Your words would only expose yourself as to what constitutes your present governing thought, your most immediate concern, your focus even. When you adopt the way of the observer, you become ever the more powerful, as if you were given an epistemic god-like center where you can see all, tastefully dismiss others' attempts at persuading you. You keep centered and everything else will gravitate towards your magnetic pull. And the universe with all its far away  constellations will revolve around you. It is alpha not to entertain others, and not to behave as a lowly social clown. Keep the world at an arm's length. 

Conundrum

We speak unfavorably about the ego. Ego is what we are, nonetheless. It is a battle of the egos, whether we decide to forgive or to resent, when we hate those we love..usually, it's all just a way to stroke our narcissistic pole.
The reason we choose to be more spiritually evolved than the norm, but not make it the norm to acquire ever so higher states of goodness and righteousness, is because we deal with  the not-so-ideal, based, demeaning world of ours: it doesn't pay to exhibit manners among troglodytes. How our ego then works as a time management tool, deflating the blows by maneuvering in the ambivalence between utter indifference and downright arrogance.
If you suddenly decide to rid of your ego, it's cause enough to make someone else's ego enlarged; so, say I go about apologizing for the err of my ways and trying to patch things up, I'd be doing so just to make myself feel better, and in the end the recipient may appreciate more the self-esteem boost paid by the compliment than the messanger's well-intended act. Indelibly, love is both: selfless and selfish.
Nothing makes us happier- or should anyway- than making others feel good. It's that simple: if we do good is because it feels good; therefore, altruism is filtered egotism, and one may take offense when our "good intentions" fall on deaf ears.

This shouldn't mean the ego is bad. Or good, for that matter. It is a survival mechanism and as such: it reacts at the slightest threat. It magnifies offences: if anything reeks of urgency and demands a great deal of drama, then it sure has the ego as the perpetrator. The ego is a self-serving despot. It self-proclaims itself king, but has no truce, no peace of mind in mind. First she had to endure the boring Christmas eve night at my family's. Then she's nice enough to bring a cake and get you a really sweet Gucci cologne; you, on the other hand, forget her tanning gift certificate which she options you to keep or give away (one suggestion, she adds, my cousin Eve).And on top of that you give her shit because we didn't take any pictures.
When, in reality, you resent her for not going to your place. She only spent last week seeing you every night!

You ought to listen to your ego and then do the opposite it says. You can instill others with your courageous soul, win all battles, but you won't go far without pride in this culture. That's what makes acts of kindness more rare, but if we dare go beyond our comfort zone and reach out to those we cherish the most from time to time, that's a healthy dose of ego, otherwise known as pride.
And you won't get far with too much of it either. Too much of it is arrogance. You need to be bold and seize the right moment.
You need balance. The right amount of good and the right amount of bad. Not bad in the mean-spirited way, but of the naughty, cunning kind. Treat others well and give up your need to control. Arrogance should never be rewarded but it can easily be a case of inexperience. Maybe things are going too fast for her as they appear to go slow for me, maybe a little patience is exerted by letting her cool off. And if she doubts my resolve, then it's just a matter of proving her wrong.

More importantly, I will prove myself by claiming my independence, by continuing the pursuit of personal goals, by actively engaging in more ambitious projects... not just by hanging my happiness around her neck. Women can sense when you make them the center of your life, they only want to be an important part of it. Your woman wants a man she can look up to. Do the hard work at hand and only then can you tend to anything other. Don't wait forever. It takes patience and dedication. Give yourself time to recuperate. Time to envision the path ahead once we find the way out of this conundrum.

Higher States of Mind

The problem is not the reasons why we get angry; the problem is finding a good enough reason to give up our precious peace of mind. Beth takes offense at my words in the course of an argument that took place a long time ago; she resents me for past actions that were never taken with the intention of hurting her. Victim types want to make you feel guilty and dignify their poor state of mind. We can't help but sometimes lose our nerve and show our proverbial teeth and claws, but as soon as we can, aim at taking the reigns away from madness and go back to tending the affairs of our lives with cooler heads. Let's not rationalize why we lose control; let's not fool ourselves, we're not in control but on autopilot. So aim at keeping your cool by not overreacting, don't value anything more than your peace of mind.

Of course, sometimes we need to fight. But half of the battle in a fight is how you manage your opponent's aggression. You can choose to remain centered and give up the illusion that it has anything to do with the issue at hand. Once you lose control, you've lost the battle. Your state of mind shouldn't be so volatily dependant on the matters argued; your focus should solely rest on being centered and right on point. It's hard only if you're trying it for the first time. Then it becomes second nature, like a layer of skin you didn't know you had underneath.
Plans are in place. Instead of spending time dining and wining, or watching tv, we should check out the courses offered by CUNY. There's a CUNY center right next to where I work. Also, a good restaurant right next door.

What you can communicate is limited to the capacity of understanding your listener has. People see what they've been conditioned to see. Think of how many aspects of yourself you'd like to change, and change takes effort initially and then it's effortless. That which you aim at becoming, you already are. Forget trying to change other people's minds, it's a futile and unfulfiling task. Sitting on a train platform awaiting the train, I become slightly concerned that it is taking longer than usual; there, I recognize my own state of mind, so I work effortlessly at keeping the peace within: haven't we gone through this passage of rite before? I ask myself. But shouldn't I be worried that I might be late? Well I have been many times late, and the consequences have rarely merited the inner turmoil I put myself through before I get there. Either get up earlier or just stop this mental nagging.

It's time I commit to paper that the lack of closure can ultimately spell our doom. We do communicate indirectly through social media outlets such as Facebook and Instagram, but I do not post much, in fact very little as of late. Nor have I gone liking other people's stuff. Such times we live. It's actually a world within a world, although it can never replace actual contact, it offers a degree of comfort and connection between peers. Recently I bought myself a smartphone, like two days ago, and I already feel the difference. You're there and then, rather than where you actually are. Your friends, your family, their interests and photos, it really is a good subterfuge. I enjoy people and I enjoy my friends, I am most familiar among strangers. As of late, I've been sort of couch potato, even though I put work around the place and manage to exercise from time to time, slowly building into a habit. I've reduced the amount of cigarettes, aim at quitting like I did before cold turkey. 

Oh of course we miss those we leave behind, but we must outgrow our emotional dependence on them, see how long can we go before we show our face. I enjoy seeing them on Saturdays when I get back late from work. Mostly though I've always been a lonely hunter. I enjoy my existence more by limiting the amount of human interaction. Even though my mom is staying with me for the time being, I am ready to move on to better things, these just take time and now I am getting back in shape, going for the FSD license, renew my driving license, seeing Julian, maybe leasing a car, getting a bigger apartment. No time for romance, I tell myself.

I don't spend a lot when I go out and I've done so locally. Twenty dollars: four beers (one buy-back, at no charge), three at $4 each, but what I usually do is I have a couple of screwdrivers at home with my music and smokes, and then I head over there, really late, almost closing time. The thing is, I'd rather stay home and watch stuff on Roku, stream to my TV through chromecast, or blast my music. I guess I am self-reliant, but I'm also 

Like a Good magician

A good magician never reveals its secret. We all keep under ourselves' sleeves tricks we reserve for the right moment, the proper crowd. Under the table of our first date go hidden all the monsters of past ghosts, our flaws and insecurities, like a stain on our otherwise spotless immaculate white shirt you're guarded and contrite. Like a magician, we seduce with our act but it has acquired perfect equilibrium thru sheer practice, to you is a brand new thing, born out of the spontaneity and owe, but to the magician is nothing more than a mere mimicry of his skilled hands, his art exhibit, his lonesome freak show stance, who knows? Maybe the magician is grown cold and distant from his disdain and tricks. Or perhaps the magician has succumbed to his egomaniac scheme, and take pride in his charm and poise, do his job without the slightest shred of shame, devoid of any excesses. Once the moment passes by, the memory of it all fades overtime, even the most courageous heart will soon be forgotten. Oblivion will obliterate all there is, all that will, so we hold on vehemently to the hissing by-product of this present moment, gone with the wind, forever erased from the collective consciousness of things. 

But just like that, too, magic requires a degree of implicit deception. It takes practice, discipline and a concerted effort to fool the prying eyes, following your every move, suspiciously. It is the act of not getting caught in the act while performing it, that's the magic of it, and in the end we're pleased with the lie, even celebrate and applaud in our bewilderment. 

The Cool Spectrum

You can't feed a lion with bird food. 

Of course, you want more, you're the man and you demand more of yourself. You calmly call her bluff, there are other men who'll want to stick around and play the friend role. We can't never be friends, I don't know you, I can't trust you, but rarely the likes of us mix, so you make a few concessions, so long as you meet half way. For instance, we no longer go to the movies, so she suggested first to forget the movie and go to the local bar instead. Then she suggested we sit on a two-people round table by the speaker, where everyone could see us. I wanted to go to the back, where the comfy chairs give a more intimate feeling, quieter too. 

We had walked under the rain there. Then she ordered buffalo wings and a beer. "Okay, what gives?" I called her out with a smile on my face: "First, you want to come here, then you drink beer and order wings." She's full of pleasant surprises.
I wanted oblivion, so I had three long island iced-teas; luckily, they weren't that strong. She didn't want to do shots. She paid for what she drank and ate, and we ended up in the sofa, I was slightly inebriated, so I got soft touching her hair, kissing her face, wrapping our legs, me in underwear. We watched a couple of episodes of Nip/Tuck. I didn't make a move. I kissed her forcibly a couple of times, sloppy move but just so that she doesn't get too comfortable around me, sometimes even spanking her as she walks by. She'd resist me taking her pants off, but doesn't remove my hands between her legs a moment later. I grab the palm of her hand and place it on the left side of my chest: "Hear how my pulse doesn't escape a beat" I whisper in her ear. Like a river galloping under her statuesque body, her breathing increases as the scenes depicted on screen get sexier, her pupils widen, my hand retreats all the way to her hair, I love the way it smells: follow tact by smell, immersed in a dance of senses. 

I look at her in the eye and show no fear, like I would an incestuous sister. Then I see an aperture, an orifice in the delicate fabric of schemes, and I take it. I have seen this episode, not missing much, so I picked her apart. 

Of course a lion has a big appetite, but girls, when it comes to the passions, are more like birds. If they know they can have your company without having to put out, then they're going to do just that. You need to be patient, too, because oftentimes girls require more space and time, we hold hands, cuddle and once upon a time had sex. Of course, you want to make the girl feel safe and relax around you; therefore you should be sure of yourself and relaxed around her. By doing the opposite, by being all over her, you're telegraphing your neediness (your own insatiable self, your self-deprecation, your very own savage's mental cave). As a man, you get to make a move, but don't make one every few minutes: it looses its potency. You need to establish value, not depreciate your stake. Don't be picking up the crumbs. However, if she doesn't want to have sex, it's fine; just don't settle for less. This is an opportunity to practice tantric love: spiritual oneness, center, kindness . You have her being, do not ask for more than what is given right this moment; what you want, you will take, and you show more character by drawing the line, like erecting a wall, between you and the world, sometimes inviting her in, at certain times shutting her out. You act kindly towards her simply by being patient, paying attention to details concealed in the subtle shift of movemeny. You show up by not overcrowding her, by not giving in to temptation, by tempting her, by exuding a cool spectrum where everything that surrounds you inevitably gets pulled by your gravitational core. You want to go really slow, be ever so firm, breath fully, take no shortcuts, and never be out of control.

Heuristics

Sit at work, count each sliced second, ticking away the dull moments that add up to culminate in a day. Day in and out we conceive of things to come, piling up stones to the invisible wall that envelops us, guarded away from those around. Let's think of ways to cut down our caloric intake, make sure the laundry and the grocery get done, take your own prepared meals to work, choose the clothes you'll wear to your date tonight (is it a date?), call and set up a meeting with an old flame, study the FSD material and ace the exam at Metrotech. Continue to heal, it is a mindful process, focus now and rip the rewards later. Life is how well you manage your resources -which are limited- and in what direction will your journey take you. Rather than envisioning your goal as a tedious and grueling task ahead, think of it instead as you would of an adventure. Nothing planned for too long or unplanned for is worth our effort; part of it is almost mechanic, heuristics, like second nature.

From the platform above the rails, the train slides right on through the rainy night, even the weather doesn't put a stop to the spectacle of lights and wonder this city is. What to do now? Where to turn? What great adventures will the night bring along? Doesn't always happiness come with a side of misery? Isn't the light that propels all shadows? Someone once said that no one knows enough to be a pessimist; the inverse rationale is true as well. Of course, willpower is mostly an illusion, nature didn't leave to chance our destiny, it didn't leave to divine  inspiration the complexities life's bestowed upon us, and it didn't leave acts of kindness to the poor, random and often weak ability to choose. In the end, we choose nothing and we're all out of control.
Fear bounds us all.

Your Highness

Lately, I waged war against allies, friends and family of mine, but not the way I used to. Some dirty war, unfair lashing out, uncontrollable bouts of anger. 

The culprit? Nicotine withdrawal, toppled with a mind ailed by subtle to moderate depression. Get rid of anger, do not get tangled up in emotional debates, needless confrontations, meditate and then meditate some more, listen to ambient music, landscape sounds full of rivers and chirping birds, and appease the untamed beast that dwells underneath the most insignificant offense, the ego. Careful not to offend Your Highness, or else heads will roll. 

Except I make no direct verbal attack, no personal confrontation, just retreat and leave the land up for grabs, ripe for the picking. That's right: in order to be delivered and released from the mental asylum of angst, something must give, someone must surrender, leave your arms and your slippers at the entrance of this house. Enter without ego, for you will not make it out alive if you take too much of anything. Pick your own memories, build them overtime, replenish the malnourished spiritual gaps; raindrops will hit the windowpane, sometimes shit. The monster lurks underneath the most insignificant blow, ready to strike. The monster doesn't know what it is: it will show no compassion, it will tear apart the most intimate fabric of our bond, it'll bleed, dry up and heal. 

We'll always have another chance to show our compassion, to be of service, to take up the real fight and make the most honorable out of whatever chance affords us, cleansed and washed anew in the misty sunlight. 

Earlier peaceful tribes were taken over by more aggressive tribes, our ancestors had to either killed or be killed, if we are here, it is a testament that some of those killer genes we inherit. That's not all that is left of our genetic legacy, of course. But we do have a violent past and not the most peaceful now either, but we do live in perhaps the most peaceful of times in our history, despite the proliferation of nuclear weapons, somehow we've managed to live with technology that would annihilate us for three quarters of a century, since the end of the second World War. It is a good sign and there's no shame in feeling a bit optimistic. A lot of work has yet to be done, we can start by dealing with others in a less reactive manner, more peacefully, the world reflects whatever you mirror yourself in and turns out into whatever transformation you're undertaking inside: these are like heads and tails of a singular coin. 

No need to go up in arms, no sense in raising vast armies to defend your land. If you sat idly, they'd conquer you; you had to either go on the offense or be conquered. If you want peace, said the old adage, prepare for war. That was then; the worst has been left behind. There's reasonable argument for hope but more vitally so we need the good will and hard work of those unwilling to compromise souls, those who'll take the fight to uncertainty and build horizons where there were only barriers before. If our efforts aren't met with the same passion, is that maybe we haven't been passionate enough.