Personality types and how some people's reality is stronger than other's

Feeling Good

Now I stay in the living room, make space, go for a walk. I kiss her once or twice a day, but I sleep by myself after holding her until she falls asleep. I sometimes grab her as she passes by, spank her, put her against the wall. I had my way with her in the last three days, it feels great, reinvigorating, fresh. She's 22, and I'm forty years old. She says absolutely nothing, texts me even when we're home, spends her time on the phone or the Internet. It's neither a pleasant feeling nor a quiet burden, but a state of affairs in which I continuously do what comes naturally, make love, cook, drink, smoke, write. 

I spend all these days off work doing absolutely nothing but writing, exercising, meditating and watching TV. I even went to the bar a couple of nights ago. She enjoys being by herself, next to me. I like the Internet too, and it so happens that the more freedom you exude by following the right path (it feels just right, it's not an effort), the more back you get.

I like my small freedoms, going out. I've enjoyed being single. Man, it feels great. After a while, the sex is not as fun; as a guy, you want to take her on. But she could be very cold. Life sucks sometimes and it does but then you realize that you're above your mind. It's not what you keep telling yourself; it's what works. And what works is getting out there, working out and meditating, meeting new people... all of those times in which I got numbers and said, I will call this girl tomorrow if I'm single. I called them all. Even girls who I haven't spoken to. I went on a few dates, had tons of fun; not traditional dates. Some of these people are already taken, but those who gave of their time happened to be single and, like myself, not necessarily looking. It feels great to get home not have to take my shoes off immediately. Even physical scars have waned. This more mellow, less combative type has some recent studies about alpha males: one of their main traits, which most people regardless of sex find more alluring, is the self-control they exude in the way they deal with you and the world. Yeah, now that I'm single, I can whistle all I want, but I rarely do so now; I'm superstitious now. And I eat cucumber. And I've missed that girl terribly. She hasn't been outside my conscious mind much but I have only grown kinder in memory, not her but the thought of her. 

The ones we were, the fun, all the things that point out and remind you, will dim its light. What was once, is no more; that's the way of life and no reason to be a downer. If you can't sustain the fall, don't bother climbing all the way to the top. Of course, it isn't ideal but for now we have way more than most men will have in her life. We had a good time, too, we just chose to focus only on the bad ones in the end. That things end, there's no way around that.
I don't fight it. It becomes part of who I am, and I rather it'd be a blissful vibe, a candid narrative, a cherished moment. If we can't stop thinking about someone, have those thoughts be about the good, too. Have and show the courage of caring. Don't go punishing yourself; the people you love inhabit only your head, your imagination, and part of the reason we suffer is because we struggle between the ideal and the real. That extra unreal baggage, what some call drama, can be squashed. It's like extra weight: the more you move, the less you have of it. 

Just the other night the thought of having hugged someone so much and for so long, it made me happy. I see the sad version of this thought: I won't get to see this person again. Oh don't be so melodramatic; the nice thing, to contradict Mr. Tolle, is that it happened and it was good. You've become the person who has hugged her more since her parents. Hugging is essential to the survival of the species. Right now, she must be massaging her ego. 

We stop short of annihilation, only because we know that if we go any farther, we'll all be in a very bad place. We're all fighting to stay alive. This survival mechanism is often selfish, impulsive and has a mind of its own, hard to bend, does not listen and does not care only to procreate or recreate its former lives through ego-based manifestations. You've become agitated? Find a way back to the source of joy that life is. Reflect back up until this moment. You can never be present and be mad. You're mad when you're mad. Usually, when you think back, you cover your tracks with excuses. You simply accept anger as part of the healing process.
  

Do not listen to the Voices of Doom

Anger, it has stolen something far too precious. I don't know how I didn't notice it before, but it was right before my eyes the whole time and I'm not gonna let it out of my sight until I vanquish this vermin called anger.
This altered state of mind, anger, it has robbed me of my peace of mind, the most beautiful of all precious stones, and it took my lovely girl, although I suspect she, too, was one angry bird. There are parallels to this ailment, just like anger today, a long time ago I was pathologically shy. The day I decided to no longer be so, it was a good start, but it took years. In my relationships, I've always take away something that I think could benefit, what I did right I continue and what I did wrong is simply discontinued. Behavior is modifiable, luckily, and we get to be better versions of ourselves if we so decide it. Now, narrowing in on the enemy, I'd say... it kept hiding from me throughout the years. First, I wasn't even remotely angry. I was actually rather passive. This is why, when I decided to fight others for the useless throne of being right, I felt I was doing a good thing for myself. Up until that point in my personal evolution, I had grown accustomed to others running my life, having their say and I stayed mum on the sidelines. Therefore, lashing out angrily at others was my way of saying, "Hey, I won't stand for this anymore." Initially, finding the feisty warrior inside made me proud and it was just so addictive to finally put a stop to all the abuse suffered. 
If we get angry, in part, is because it works. But you're playing grateful forces: your using violence to get your way and not all people react the same to intimidation. 
When you think of a thief, an unwelcome intruder, who wanders throughout your most intimate rooms, breathing the air you breath. You can't think of a greater threat than some inner entity that becomes "you" and lashes out without your blessing, because when we become angry, we lose control, restrain, fairness. We can express our anger, but not let it unravel in unhealthy projections, do not engage anger and do not let others push you around using the A card. 
But, going back for a moment, a thief, or better yet an impostor, who with your slight consent has taken you hostage and turn you into the living dead: fear is magnified in our minds, we're rather very primitive creatures. Imagine if there was something as contagious and as hurtful as anger can be, how it can infect a whole crowd in seconds and have catastrophic consequences. If we viewed anger logically, it usually means we're no longer angry. Of course, we may say that we are not, feel as if we aren't, but no one is without anger. The trick here is not to rid of anger but rather not let anger get a hold of you. Anger was hiding under the pretense of someone tough, happy to have found its voice and not a damn shy bone to quiet it! Maybe in abolishing shyness, I was carried away. 
Anger has stolen from me as much as shyness, if not more. And when I decided not to be shy again, I knew it’d take more than just that decision along the way. The way is only hard and steep until you get used to the movement, once you form a habit out of not getting mad, if you must say something in a harsh tone, tone it down; keep your poise, swag and aloofness; it shouldn't even register. But it was a good start. Pealing out the outer layer, maybe doing away with shyness fueled my anger, or perhaps because of there being a lot of repressed anger, I was vocal. In intimacy, a menace of a lover, so anger also hid itself behind jealousy. If I chose not to be jealous, anymore, could I just be angry instead? See, jealousy in small doses is fine, but once anger sets in, any trivial thing turns into a big nothing. When I was shy, I saved a lot of time by not engaging and therefore enabling confrontational people, but I had saved the fight for the one I loved. I had no friends, no relatives whom I frequent, no active social life. I am sort of a loner, sedentary, introspective. And though I have fun, fun to me isn't being at a bar late at night, if anything have a couple of beers and leave. Yes, there's such a thing as having a drink and leaving. I don't know what genius thought of getting relatively young people hammered late at night and have them mingle. You get better chances at the coffee shop. Once I got over being shy, I had no need for bars. Of course, I'd go if invited, party like there's no tomorrow, but four out of five times, I'm writing, meditating, reading, working, doing stuff at home, going to coffee shops, malls, anywhere where there are lots of people, and going to see my sons more often than my parents did. 

The story about my personal onslaught against the tyranny of shyness, it is a painstaking one that took me years and, in any ways, it still is an undergoing battle. For who can claim to be without the slightest shred of shyness? Shyness took away from me the girl of my dreams back in high school. It wasn't there and then that I decided to do something about being shy. I’d just say that was who I was, to myself, and others could see it too, but no one encouraged me even though many took advantage of it. It also stole the girl I loved back then, a dear friend of mine today. 

Extraordinary things happened for me when I confronted my shyness, but the real rewards took years to rip. That's how severe shyness was, but maybe it also had something to do with the fact that I was much younger, therefore less experienced and not as up to the task. It didn't happen overnight, that much I can say. 
So, it's not like I expect anger to go away, after years and years of nurturing the beast. It will not die a quiet death, I thought. Then I read this book about how we are not our thoughts by Mr. Tolle, and suddenly the voices ceased to murmur, I became more silent. The Ego, has a lot to do with it, but all good things in time come for those who go for it, and I am going to rely, not on doing things differently, but rather in learning how to cope with them without getting angry. I won't just let people walk over me, either; there's a healthy amount of character and firmness you can show without the need to lose control, as is often the case with anger. My thing is, I've been far less angry than ever before and, unlike shyness, I have already seen miracles in my life. Nothing specific, just the way people responds to me and all the good things that this new journey in life has brought. 

In tearing down anger, I underwent dozens of hours of meditation. One particular book, The Power of Now, is worth mentioning. In it, the author, Eckhart Tolle, candidly speaks of his disregard for the voices that sum up our thoughts. This inner mental chattering, the interior monologue we all carry with us wherever we may find ourselves being, or instead of being, accordingly, is the source of all our misery. That we should stop listening to our thoughts, as we are not our thoughts, and focus on this very present moment which is the most precious thing we got. Mr. Tolle doesn't speak in scientific terms, the book is esoteric in nature, strictly spiritual if you will, and nothing you haven't already heard from Buddhism and any other guru advocating the colossal benefits of quieting our minds through meditation. It's the way in which Mr. Tolle projects this "stream of consciousness" that determine our fate. Interesting enough, he mentions as a point of reference the axiom by the famous French philosopher Descartes: "I think, therefore I am." And he condemns such reference by arguing that it is a mistake to think of thoughts are the source of us being. Being and thoughts, in Mr. Tolle's book, are actually separate entities. 
Interestingly, too, how he sort of sees these inner voices that roam around our head as not just the source of our misery, but almost like living entities that refuse to die and want to "animate" themselves through our actions. In a single slingshot, The Power of Now throws down the debacle that pleasure is the true purpose in life, as Hedonism proposes; instead, joy is pleasure we can give ourselves. Anything other than the source of happiness, as in joy, as in emanating from within, is not something that is in someone else's grasp. What took hold of me is how Mr. Tolle describes corrosive emotions in our mental processing, the way these thought patterns are elaborate and forgotten puzzles in psyche, remnants of a time long gone that does not want to expire and die. All of our personal demons rose up from conflicts in our personal lives, but they do not need to be reenacted through disturbed manifestations in our lives. Instead, the solution is simple: ignore your thoughts. See them as they are, manifestations of a moment long gone or not yet present, joy is in living this very moment fully and leave regrets and worries behind. There's no tomorrow, there's no past; yesterday was today a moment ago and tomorrow will be shortly today again. In other words, we never get to be in a future time and what's left, whatever is gone, should be left alone. 
What a marvelous book. 
My only complaint is that not all our thoughts are evil. Some of us actually enjoy spending time in our heads and while there really isn't a tomorrow or a yesterday that can match up this moment, yesterday (to my mind) isn't always a bad memory and I love looking forward tomorrow. I guess Mr. Tolle speaks of the "evils" of a tormented mind and, for that, we can all be thankful. What's more, it gives us the reassurance that we really don't have to entertain thought-processes with dire consequences. In essence, whatever we choose to believe ultimately is the result of our own ego incarnating itself as a self-evident truth. We can abolish a whole lot of psychosis, avoid true pain, if only we stop listening the voices of doom. Nothing that we ever feared came out exactly the way we feared. Our emotions are exaggerated, therefore our response may be somewhat tremendous as well. How easy it is to know that we can get along with the demons within if only we can keep them quiet until their influence become null. 
It's a very uplifting, poignant piece of literature, with a fresh look at ourselves, our very own thoughts, as the fabric of our misery. And yes, some people is actually so afflicted over ruminating thoughts in their mind. To those whose heads are held as heavy-burden trophies, it's time to put the load aside and go on walking cargo-free. And in not listening to the voices of doom, it is reminiscent of what Nietzsche said of his predecessor and early influential figure, Schopenhauer. 

Take time off to be happy

On my way back from the Bronx (don't ask), I sit next to a girl reading a book in her native language. "That's Russian, right?" I asked her. "Yeah, how you know?" I choke, "It's hard to miss." She laughs, and this is something you just read and may not have found funny. It's the way that the short sentence is delivered: you use your face, your hands, your tone of voice to convey humor. Your body may say more by how fit you look than by whatever posture you assume. 

Throughout the day and everywhere, I interact with people, the subway being rather an exception: I like to keep quiet when I'm riding. Actually, I mostly keep to myself; my roommate likes to say next to nothing, but it's warm enough, the do-not-speak- unless-spoken-to kind. She's even quieter than the other girl.
Don't get me wrong, they're great. I mean, beauty has to be part of the deal and when there is beauty in abundance, certain traits in personality, other than fine aesthetics, go awry. You can't have it all, but you can have plenty. And I've been very fortunate with women. Ashley had more than looks, she was generous and graceful. Too bad she nagged most of the time, and always said shit that was hurtful; she was violent, too. She once broke a broom on my forearm; it hurt for weeks. And the scars from scratching are fading, but they were bad. She was also very vain.  

From time to time, you go the chase, but only after you finish your work. You will need time off to go somewhere, in the desert or the jungle, be one with nature, run naked in a rainstorm. Sure, we speak little of the voices in our head. These talk more and more about the recent past and how I've taken over the present, how the ego evolved into a more constructive self-esteem, how we chop day in and out to carve out this body and mind. In the physical spectrum, it's different: the harder you try, the farther you get. In the spiritual/mind realm, it is the undoing and the not-doing, just being, you aim for. And it isn't as if you go searching, no. It comes when you least expect it and doesn't make any promises but it delivers. Mindfulness makes us clear, peaceful, and kindness isn't rare. Often we run into old friends, and yet it happens because I am on the move, everywhere, and so chances are I will bump into someone I know. It's called synchronicity.

It's happened to me with everyone I know, the ones I care. Alan, my cousin, I used to see him on my way back from work many times on the same crossroad. Ashley I met several times around, once when we had fought and we had just come back from the city, she was with her then roommates and I hadn't seen her in a week or so. Then there was the time she was coming from the city and I was coming back from work, and we took the same bus. Up until that night, she had gone a couple of months aloof, shoving off my advances, leaving me in limbo. I told her that night that if she wanted just a friend, well then no, sorry. That was it, and I meant it. Then we got to fight it off and there was this ritual where I rid her of her clothes, barely take mines off, and just ravished her over and over. It was so good we ended up having sex every night for the next five days in a row and ever since then, we spend most time with each other. Ah, what times.

Of course, if there's meditation for good, its bad counterpart is Vodka. Just as you sit comfy and watch TV, no one fights over what to watch. You may not realize it but relationships are hard work and sometimes it doesn't even pay off. You put yourself through so much rejection, sometimes you just want to just get the fuck out of there for good. And so, when you do, you forget just how bad you had it, whatever you do it works only if it finds you happy and for that, whether you are in a relationship or not, it doesn't really affect the outcome. 

Being happy begins with you. And you kind of lose yourself when you're in love. It feels like you can't take enough, it's almost like a high you can't contain. And once you come off it, then you experience withdrawal. It's normal. I call it quarantine.

It's a period of forty days and its nights without making contact with the infected. In this case, the one you love. Once things are done, of course, and no less than forty days. No emails, no texts, no contact. It's sobering, I know. But once you know how to denounce to that which you hold dearest then you know more than most. You chose to be alone, your actions and your behavior clearly point to that fact. You may have chosen poorly by acting out in anger, but it made you realize anger is no longer our way of doing things.

We've come a long way from those angry days. 

Of course, emotions do not rule our lives. But anger should be like salt for cooking, use in small amounts. It gives zest, flavor, character to your foods. But destroying her trademark sunglasses, that was not cool. Throwing down the window a VCR from a forth floor long ago, as I reminisced having done with Glenda. We now laugh at those things and really wonder just how madly in love you really were. Not that you no longer aren't, but once you make space, time apart, you begin to see shapes and forms, and kind of find the whole thing funny. Look, I chase around my friends, can't say I stalk them. But girls I've been involved with? Rarely. Of those that started as friends and then turned into something else, some reverted back to friendship. Since you already know what you're like when you've been friends, then it isn't as evil. But relationships that started off without friendship rarely turn into friendships. You'd like to hang out with girls who you were involved, and I have at one point or another, but girls tend to only have friends and keep their exes at a distance. I think that's the price of getting the girl, you gotta let her go when the time comes. Show your face around every few weeks, whatever you do take time off to be happy.