Hypothetical Others

Romance, generally, is not hassle-free. It comes with a barrage of mental strings that'd pull us in every direction from the inside out, tragically comic, for sure. 

But being that some of us have been curious enough to piece together the chaotic, harmonize the abominable beast that lurks behind every human emotion and pinpoint the precise emotional trigger that pulls the strings. 

Emotions are tricky, and apparently, according to the latest psychology, reduced to just a handful of players: sadness, anger, happiness, fear, and disgust. 
In the spiritual circles, long ago, there were only two emotions, serving as extremes of adverse polarities, with a variety of moments that can be put on either side. It's simple, really: you either come from love or you come to fear. It gets better, or yet, worse: 

It is one and the same. 
You may see it when things end, usually apathy takes over, hatred, feelings of betrayal. 

In essence, nothing goes from nothing to something; a load of energy gotta go somewhere. So, there you have it: love and hate are one and the same. Deal with it. 

The key is neutrality, states of mind that are neither productive nor wasteful. Neither too much nor too little, just right. It is what can be defined as balance, equilibrium, centeredness. The rest is either drama or boredom. Ever seen that Tik/Tok videoclip claiming that relationships that work are usually made of one person that's crazy and another that's boring? It's true. Polarities balance each other out. Too much alike, or nothing alike: bad. It's simple math. Substract one off one? Nada. 

Things can escalate, in a nanosecond: hilarity can easily morph into tension if the joke is perceived as a  threat and there's a fearful reaction by another. 

These moments appear to be unavoidable, you were only joking and someone else takes offense? You realize, down the road, as you examine the roots of your own unsteadiness, that you behaved in ways that could've come across as threatening. Nonesense. Where is her sense of humor? Now you're going places that you don't wanna go, in order to take her out. How sad of you. 

Question yourself, and you'll start losing her. Challenge her, call her bluff, and you'll pique her interest. She won't let you know either way. So you might as well be yourself. Be your own man. She doesn't need a pussy; she already has one. But you don't have to be a dick about it either. 

Ah, the French philosopher Sartre. If there's an ugly guy I'd envy... it would have to be because of his: "Hell is other people." Long story short: the problem of others, hypothetically speaking. Simpler terms: God, you guys are idiots. It's a famous play, in it people in there soon realized that they are in hell, but that hell is not what you think it would be. It was others, that is, people in our lives talking about hell, for instance. That's hell. Now you get the point. Your time is precious, so I won't bore you with the details. 

If you're still there, then mine is, so I'm out. 

(Much, much later...)
...a dog can be good, but from what point of view? If it's a happy dog, and goes around doing happy dog things like trashing the place and pissing anywhere it pleases, it is good for the dog, right? 

Wrong. 

So, there you have it. The dog is not good, because it has only itself in mind. It may feel good to do as the dog pleases, but only for the doy. 

You cannot bring visitors because it will bark at them. Hump their legs. Nasty shit. Literally. 

Happiness is out of balance, narcissistic in many ways. It is self-involved, to say the least. It reeks, like arrogance. 

What is then the dog to do? The dog has to behave, be balance, and only the right training can make him so. It will respect and follow leadership. It descends from wolves, there is among wolves a strict follow the leader, be part of the pack code. 

Now that's a happy dog: balanced, well behaved. Doesn't bark at our visitors and will bite and then bark at an intruder. 

That's a brief take on happiness. It is about balance, it takes discipline, courage. Above all, unlike popular belief, it feels great. What, you think people who work out often, sleep well, eat right, knows how to fuck and act around others are miserable? Doubtful. 

But what of the pessimistic view of Mr. Sartre. I'm glad you asked. See, I set out to counter it from the start, as I do with those who challenge me. Here it is: Yes, Mr. Sartre is right: Hell is other people. But our kind of people, the very special kind, is Heaven. You don't have to die to see them. They're around. Go, seek them out. 

 

Cowardice takes a lot of work. Courage, so rare and potent, it picks its battles, comes off effortlessly. It looks good on you. Why would you wear something that doesn't make you look good? You don't have to dress up all the way, but feeling good in your own skin is brave enough. 
In ancient civilizations, honor was a matter of life or death. Not something to trifle with. A long slingshot, but every moment demands of us a response that will either clear up the path for a carnival or a funeral. We watch ourselves die a little every opportunity we squander, every precious moment we turn away from. When you listen to the unsteady current that is your life, aim at understanding all the tiny intricacies, the texture and mood of your being as is, how your watercolor mixes all the tones at your palette... the level of energy with which you face off the roughness of life; how flexible your mind is, determined by how easily it cracks or melts down. 

Honor is no longer in fashion, not a matter of the utmost importance, as the trend nowadays is to be cool. 

In the sense that honor is a rare commodity, it is acquiescently cool to be so. To embody the ancient idea of honor, one must first devise an entirely different paradigm in the value system. 

As a society, we contemporary mortals value our lives above all; in an honor system, your honor, that is, the esteem and respect with which you're treated, it's largely dependent on the way you conduct yourself: are your actions, your interactions and your dwellings in sync with your core beliefs and, if so, are these "honorable" (worth of praise and admiration) actions. Temperance, restraint, self-mastery, bravery, and a lust for life appeared to predominantly be the building block of life, but more importantly moral fiber. 

When you react, that's the problem. 

Whatever the case may be, it's slowing that initial response makes all the difference. You train yourself to pause before you actually pull the trigger, and over time you get to control more your emotional outbursts. If for a moment you lose it, you get it back right away. 

Slowing down comes in handy when the moment arrives. Every time you see yourself in a state of rage (or temporary madness, as some call it), understand that you're either overreacting. You should act as if you were watching a movie, everything taking place there is of no concern to you. It's just for entertainment value, it may surprise you in a scene, catch you off guard, but you don't take a movie to heart. That would be the part played by a bad actor. 

 

It's anger that drives us, the pain that you taste off the sweat when you work out intensely it tastes just it, a heightened state of mind, calibrated madness. 

You could explode if someone were to make you feel threatened, otherwise handling stress so much better, as if everything else in life suddenly turned dull and lightweight. 

Everyone finds us more appealing when we exercise; I use the plural, "we", as in the potential reader who could suddenly find inspiration in these words, but really, talking to the other person that I am or the person that I think might be reading it later is still a lot like talking to myself. There's no one reading this at the time I write, and no one writing it as I see it. These are all illusions, it takes the eye to see, that is what happens in a room full of familiar faces. These are all strangers. We are strangers to ourselves as well.  

It thinks not the one I write, the words I read as I think them flow as if there was a sort of endless stream of... It cannot be a conscious process, little things in life are. 

Why else make an effort if it isn't for the illusion that someone will later read these words, comment below, or not; someone who I hypothetically feel the need to show off my literary prowess, no? Ego, I suspect, is all we are, it has got us by the balls all along. 

You practice kindness and compassion, and forget to make up with family members, close friends long forgotten, disgruntled co-workers that you used to see... now are gone. If not knowing is all we get to know, then I don't wanna know. 

Fear is essential for survival. 

It is more proper in a moment of imminent danger. It may have proved practical to our ancestors evolving in the savannah, a predator might be looming nearby. Who knows if Darwin wasn't really bullied?

We may have evolved to the point that there is no lion in sight, yet get a similar response as if we were out there, back in time. You know, they say you can take the monkey out of the jungle but you cannot take the jungle out of the monkey? We are that monkey. In Buddhism, they call it The Monkey Mind. 

Biologist Robert Sapolsky's book Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers revolves around the premise that animals in the wild are hardwired to elicit such an emotional response when a real threat is present. A lion looming in the distance does not bother the herd, zebras would not be bothered much and continue grazing. A lioness is typically the hunter in a pride. 

Camouflaged in the yellowish grass with her golden coat, the lioness gets close enough to her prey. If the game is large enough, such as a buffalo or a zebra, the lion might come and assist her. Lions can also hunt in packs of males, too. But often is a female doing the kill, and she is strategic in her chase. 

She doesn't have the same power as a male but can run up to 50 miles per hour in short bursts, much faster than her male counterpart at 35 miles per hour. Lionesses make quite the ideal hunter, not because of the speed, they're not nearly as fast as a cheetah, but much more powerful. Zebras run at around 40 miles per hour, for a lot longer than a lioness. Ambush and stealth are essential in the midst of the pursuit. On average, four out of five attempts result in failure. 

Zebras have the statistical advantage, despite being on the lower end of the food-chain. Lions usually prey on the weakest, the least experienced, the injured, not the quickest and ripest among them. A lioness can jump up to 36 feet high but no animal in nature has a more powerful kick than the zebra, enough to kill a 450 pound lion. Nonetheless, the moment that the lioness sprints out of her cover and leaps into action, zebras run for dear life.  

Once the chase is over, whether it is a lion or a lioness or both, whether there's success or not, all the zebras in the herd go back to grazing as usual. Like many other midsize grassland mammals, they show heroic traits when one of their young is caught. It is often said that these are instinctive acts, but bravery in humans is not made in a calculated moment but an instinctive reaction more often than not. Courage is no more an in-the-moment decision than cowardice is. Just the same, if one of theirs is killed, the herd may show sympathy standing on the sideline, but none makes a fuss about it once was the affair has passed. They show bravery when is needed. 

In the wild, animals of prey do not have the luxury to worry about potential scenarios. They do not show much grief. They do not worry about the next time the lioness will come. Zebras are the same. It's not like they will spent much time anxious about it later on, thrilled about having overcome the odds or thinking back about how scary a run it was. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Different human species have been hunting and eating meat since the invention of fire, more than a million years ago. Fire assisted early human species in fending off intruders, hunting, navigating in the dark of night and keeping warm, cooking foods and perhaps culinary habits evolved thereafter. All of these elements combined may have been propisce to storytelling, sitting around a fire burning, eating the cooked meal after catching big game. It's not hard to imagine that dance and, shortly after, music may have evolved. Early humans may have mimicked bird songs by whistling, useful to fend off boredom as a cheap form of joy, to impress females in the tribe, more predominantly, as we are drawn to natural sounds. 

A sort of mimicry, too, of coping big predators may have led early humans to hunt and give chase to prey much more larger and menacing than them, eventually making humans one tough act to follow. It takes millions of years for a animal to climb up the food-chain and claim the spot of an apex predator. Fire allowed archaic species of humans like Homo Erectus to thrive in a hostile world, signaling to all that it was here to stay. Home sapiens, the species from which we all derived, is less than 200,000 years; we like to think of ours as one of the cleverest and most adaptable species among humans, but Homo Erectus was around for almost ten times longer than us. 

It may be that a natural fire broke out in the forest at some point due to lighting, and out of desperation, early human prototypes picked up a piece of wood and tried to defend themselves or catch prey by putting it on fire. Imagine the powerful effect it must've had, to make even lions run by holding a piece of burning wood in one's hand. When the fire was extinguished, it may have prompted the desire to replicate the natural occurrence. 

Song and dance are typical of birds, used to woo a potential mate. 

Our anxiety did not come from ancient times, it was not passed down to use by over-worried ancestors. Hunter/gatherers lived more sedentary, relatively more laid back lives than us. 

Our modern is hectic, anxiety-driven and it may be a recent fabrication, a few thousand years in the making, but now that we've had a deeper understanding of the phenomenon, it is done more so deliberately: the fear that we feel is systematic, it is known that we have a primal need to survive, and our overreactive selves are a byproduct of this lifestyle, along with all these modern obligations, we live fearfully because it has been ingrained in us the survivalist dilemma, that is, if we do not become productive, then we may cease to exist. 

It started with the advent of agriculture, roughly ten thousand years ago, where humans abandoned the wilderness and entered a world of communal living, working the lands and planting, raising animals for consumption, and worrying whenever there were periods of famine due to wars, crop failure, or failed policies. It has been perfected through the ages, nowadays we fear that if we don't have a job, or if we don't have our smartphone or any of all the materialism and consumerism that surrounds us, we will suffer and end up homeless. 

Don't get me wrong, it is good to have nice things, to make a living enjoying what we do but the idea is blown out of proportion. The sense that all of these things somehow will fill the existential void; some of us manage to downplay the message, we may know deep down that will not make us better, we will end up trying to please others, living whatever it is that society paints as the ideal. We are in need of a new paradigm. 

In hunting for food, hunter/gatherer societies spent an hour or so, then had the rest of the day off to sit around and do absolutely nothing. Living in proximity helped propagate disease, but humans developed and grew in size, advanced technologically, giving rise to our modern way of life. We went from dying of hunger to dying of obesity. It is not so much that we need to go back to the jungle, that would not be feasible, but we have a lot to learn from the ancestral time spent there. It would be advisable to eat more nutritiously and with less frequency, our anxiety does not come from the time other animals preyed on us. It is a mechanism that is still present in animals living in the wild still. The difference between a zebra and a modern human being is that a zebra stops worrying once the visible threat is gone; humans not only over-worry, but they do so over the most trivial things; hence the "over" it. 

Evolution did not intend for us to be in a constant state of panic. May you evolve to the day that you'll no longer feel agitated at the utter of a word, be it insult or praise. It's not just anger that has to be downgraded and gradually dismantle, but every intense feeling that leads to places where anger hides. Look for opportunities to lay back and rejoice. We've made it thus far, things are okay and now it's time to enjoy our harvest. Be festive, love one another, enjoy. 

It keeps you authentic, it gives your personality character; it ignites that drive that fuels ambition and possession, to be intense and passionate, just not loud and vulgar. Anger shows you that there's something wrong, and you should pay immediate attention to it. Take care of it right there and then if necessary. Of course, anger can be a monster: it enacts itself through your ego, gone amok. It may feel as if it were shielding you from external fire; in all probability is just a sign that the burning torches they threw at your castle found a haystack inside and caught fire. You cannot fight fire with fire; if it requires a lethal response, it is best to be quiet. Anger escalates emptily, it is indiscriminate in its wake, it escalates like a hot-air balloon, at some point it'll bust, and in the end, it's nothing more than pop, compressed air is released and the matter quickly dissolves. 

So long as it's not a matter of life-or-death, the issue can be put aside. 

We're hardwired to be territorial, fighting imaginary enemies as grown-ups, just the same way some of us entertained imaginary friends when little. When the threat is real, collectedness tips the balance in our favor: we cannot exert control over others' actions, however, we deal a decisive blow by keeping our cool. It's easier done than said, to keep quiet, walk away, or rewind the tape to a moment ago when things were under control. 

You can't manage anything, or anyone, if you fail to manage first your own. Trying to control others is pointless; it gives away your power which relies -or should, anyway- on self-control. Ironically, the moment you have it, others will fall in line. Nothing like an out-of-control person in charge, a leader who cannot follow and doesn't lead by example. Since most people live in fear, that kind of leader is in fashion. In fear of losing a paycheck, a place we hate to make a living. We can be sad creatures. 

We've seen nothing but war, we're acting out all the movies and pop culture fed to us on TV. For eons, we have known nothing but war. At the same time, we live in the most peaceful time in history. Not perfect, just highly unusual given our fisty nature. If for twenty years you lived in a bad neighborhood, where every day there's some sort of commotion and for weeks nothing happens, it does not cause concern. Sure, there are still wars being fought at this very moment in time, injustices committed every day, but it starting to dawn on us that we are getting actually better at getting along with one another. 

The human experience has been nothing short of a deplorable spectacle up until this point, it wouldn't be surprising to see a change for the worse, but the greater hope lies in the new generation. They are now the real adults in the room, politically involved, forward-thinking, and dare I say... cool. 

Still uncertain times ahead, but we are no longer marching towards nothingness, enshrouded in misery. A lot of not much, and plenty of unsavory characters, but there's reason to be hopeful. Even when we have it so good, we make damn sure that there's plenty of fear to go-round, unnecessary melodrama everywhere we go. Let us walk mindfully, be present, let our energy contaminate our surroundings, as in healing and promoting well-being. 

Abandon your guard. Our mental landscapes sustain the mad illusion of this new day. 

It's a good time to be alive, pay close attention, there are ramblings in the background. If your actions do not echo in the back of your mental cave, there's a midway, an antagonist entity that thrives in cynicism. If you're frightened suddenly by something that you perceive as a threat to your character, let's say someone slandered you and you just heard of it. Will it solve the situation to confront the person? Keep a prudent distance. Be nice to assholes, they really need it the most now. See, Buddhism had it wrong in going about it: we need not remedy the suffering, even there you can sense the beauty of it. It's good to know that sometimes how much you have loved goes hand in hand with how much you have suffered. Am I saying you should become sort of a masochist? 

Love's not for the weak of heart. 

We're still evolving. These words, too, will be transcended, morphed into a brand new being. 

You think less and less of those among us who wish ill on everyone, stay away, build healthier connections, nurture good feelings, plant nice thoughts, and keep your sword and your word, do good and be good. Come from a place of strength, not a whiny, wussy, or otherwise a self-centered imbecile. Niceness may be played out, but kindness may still be in. You don't give much by giving just your "sympathy". It's a cheap gift. Don't stand there, roll with it. Don't catch an attitude and say something: say it with an attitude and mean it. If she disses you, reply in a self-assured tone: "Don't worry, hun; I'm not gonna kiss your ass." 

Girls will give you drama, regardless, and for no apparent reason, it's not like they can fight you fairly. Your job is to let that shade truly slide. 

It turns out there usually is a reason, anger in girls is not frequent but also chronic, and usually, the same patterns follow. In other words, you know what pisses off your loved one and still do it because it means so much to you. Don't be that annoying guy, get a life. Stay out of her hair if you want her to respect you. You get what you give, and if not, then don't try to take it back, there's no return policy when it comes to these peaches. 

That's the sexy kind of pissed-off sentiment that begs a cynical observation. So here, here.. so that the girl knows she's being ridiculous. Deliver it with impeccable self-mastery, in control.

No excess, no lack, just plenty. 

Be consistently inconsistent, and make progress every day, sometimes progress is all about keeping up the good work thus far. Anger works like some viral infection that will never leave your body entirely; if left untreated and the immune system is somehow compromised, then disease may flourish. However, if the immune system is kicking, backed up by the right nutrition, an active/relax life, no weekend partying, no drinking out there at late hours of the night. I usually fall asleep way before midnight and wake to see the sunrise. I ought to go out one of these weekends, have a blast, and when asked "What are you on?", you respond: "Club soda." 
You cannot choose to play it cool once, then have an episode later on. Catch yourself in the act of making irascible shortcuts that lead towards the same path of self-disruption. It's not that you destroy yourself; it's that you disrupt all the good with an unpremeditated course of action with a sleazy slingshot. Keep the commotion to yourself. 

You can live in your mind; it's where you reside anyway. We can't go anywhere without having our mind as a mediator, as the ultimate spectator, critical at times, tyrannical at others, the mind is always just a thought away from oblivion.
Let's face it, women aren't easy to reason with and we weren't wired for dating women who suddenly find themselves freer and full of promise more than ever before in recorded history. We kind of have to pick up the tab our ancestors' chauvinistic way of objectifying women and limit their choices, making them dependent on a man who would provide for her. That's how societies had been structured for eons. Most women are fascinated by the masculine traits that define their idea of a male prototype that inhabits in the corners of their childhood fantasies. Women live for that moment when a man will come and take her on in an adventure, sweep her off her feet. Women are passionate creatures, most anyway. Even in the cold world of business, you'll find beautiful women who crave adventure. Not all of them want to settle down just yet and those who are really live it up until the moment when matrimony brings another life; and the ones that do have a boyfriend do not owe him any loyalty once he's out of sight. Women have become like men. Evolutionary psychologists argue that women gain little from promiscuity and hence are less inclined to go down that path. Unfaithfulness is not their thing. 

Sure, that's solid science. These nerds should really get out there and try things out. They'd be surprised just how much women have evolved. They no longer need us and they can choose who they want to spend time with. They still want to be treated and paid for. It doesn't pay to be cheap, but don't aim at buying their attention. You gotta show pride and conduct yourself in such a way that no money can buy. Character is like a million bucks. Attitude is like water for chocolate. Especially, when it comes to our women.

Office romance is lunacy. When a woman gets in with me, she knows already she's in for a lot of fun. Tall, handsome, in great shape, well-spoken, I never go unnoticed by the opposite sex and even my own gender. Gay men nowadays are more in the open and less fearful to signal interest even when you're not returning their advances. They harass the shit out of us straight men. No one really cares about men; the vast majority of homeless people are men. We suffer greater incidences of violence and die younger, of suspicious causes. 

When a woman enters my life, she knows, she's my girl... it's like living in a foreign land with its own set of rules that are to be followed and obeyed. That's why I could never date someone from work. Not only is romance a bad idea, but office romance is also just suicide. Things go up and down even when you're not in a relationship with them. They suddenly appear out of nowhere and though you enjoy each other's company, it is forbidden to go beyond that. You get to treat people well, engage them if necessary or let them be. 

You treat people with the same disregard or affection they show: mirror them. They love to look at themselves. 

But do it wholeheartedly, in a more heartfelt way: sometimes it's good to show even less interest if they show too much; we may choose to give a little more, a genuine smile that is always accompanied by arched eyebrows and high energy. Best to show high energy, and be reserved about it. 

How we deal with sexual tension is imperative. My way of dealing with such tension is by decreasing the anxiety through exercise, meditation, good sleeping habits, good nutrition, two drinks, and a half to take the edge off. Go to bed early and wake up before dawn to see the first lights of day. I run for a few blocks and walk for some others; I hit the gym before every other day. Working out early wakes me up like nothing else; having a good hearty breakfast next and having my supplements: multivitamins, Omega 3, probiotics,  cells use it for fuel. The brain uses three times more energy per same amount than muscle, that's why smart men tend to be less inclined to develop bigger arms and chest.

They need that power to go to their head and plan the world around us. It's okay, I guess, to be a nerd. I am one, to an extent. I loved books growing up and it is part of my psychological make-up to have an intellect a la par with my body. Exercise makes me stronger and even my philosophy of life changed when my body changed. You suddenly become more optimistic and less dramatic, you tend to observe that in men who are strong: they tend to be more centered and more confident. Something about doing that which others only think of doing, and doing so day in and out, it's reason enough to believe their own hype. Our belief systems are all our very own made-up coping survival mechanisms. 

Sexual tension is inevitable. It happens as soon as you see someone whom you feel that visceral feeling called attraction. Your brain is hijacked by the illusion of love. It works like magic, just like a spell would. Your ability to discern things logically is abnormally impaired. It is a well-known fact: love makes us dumb. We act out irrational ways of feeling intensely about someone or something and go on episodic tantrums that solve nothing really, in fact, create more chaos than what was there before. You create drama even when you try to stay away from it. Gossip is for girls. You ever catch a guy gossiping, I tell him straight out it's bad energy and you don't want to be around people who whine too often or go into outbursts of anger aggravating others. People affect each other greatly; we're social animals and as such, we're prone to be like a flock of birds that suddenly take flight at once and in one direction as soon as someone steps into their space. Animals respond to stimuli that other people give off. That's why when there's tension around, as there is in a New York subway on rush hour, then you find inner peace and stay in place, understand that is part of the process, and don't give in to anger. See, negative emotions are of low frequency; positive emotions are of higher frequency more often than not. Evil is elaborate negativity, and so it takes more planning and oftentimes with positive outcomes for others in general. But positivity requires effort. Negativity, on the other hand, it saves energy and eliminates effort. It's easier to say that something can't be done; it takes a whole lot of effort to say it can be done because it then implies that you need to come up with a plan to substantiate your bullshit and quantify your inadequacies, in order to make it all happen. That's why most people are negative or have been negative or adopt negativity in order to fend uglier people off. It's complicated, to say the least; you need some negative, low energy, in order to deal with a gruesome world from which we descend and trust a handful of loyal friends along the way, cultivate the right relationships with no specific agenda in mind. Knowing others, interacting, mingling, seeing them often, is fortune enough. Taking things to that next level, it requires maturity and understanding, and it backfires more often than not. We can't help but be emotional creatures who are at the whims of their emotions. We can rule over them but it takes practice and that takes patience and patience is something more like a plant, it doesn't come in a whole like a seed. You plant it, water it, talk to it, and let it grow. The sun will do its bid. You will repeat yours over and over again until you master patience. There will always be a way to test your patience and every time you suppress a negative tendency is by disruptive the very thoughts that rise within. 

Masturbation serves as a release of tension. It's good for us men is good to keep the instinct in check. Since you release that tension, you get to be less sexual in your interactions. I have come to kill my desire except it has more than seven lives. It is a reality most of us men go through. It's difficult to untangle yourself from the need of staring at them as they pass by. Long ago, I grew out of that need of staring vividly at a girl's face or body; sure, I see her and she sees me, I am not needy, I am not going to kiss her ass, I am not going to be an ass, I am actually quite the gentleman but never to impress, the best way to impress others is to remain unimpressed and never appear so just to impress others. Don't let your ego get in the way of your dick. Don't be too much of an ass and don't kiss ass. You can't get ass by kissing ass. It's impossible. 

I rule my woman. I don't force her to do anything. She chooses to be with me. And she can walk out the minute she decides to, if she so chooses to. I prefer them extremely feminine, though all of them are somewhat crazy, the prettier the girl the crazier. Though I met really down to earth beautiful girls. It's okay if they're crazy and pretty, beauty isn't perfection. It does look like it. It may even feel like it. You may sometimes forget the pain. Beauty is to be admired with temperance and not abandonment, you need to look her in the eye and not let her in on what's going on inside you. You need to be in charge of yourself. Others will always find a way to get in. When they do, make their stay short-lived, spend time only with the ones you find most appealing, and stop fantasying about girls who would only bring misery to your life. Because what you need is to become this man who doesn't really need her... he wants her. And you'll be surprised just how open to the opportunity women on a daily basis are; it's rare not getting a reaction and enact all these roles in our lives, mini-adventures where you just enjoy things more fully and shamelessly. You can be yourself even more so. 

But in the real world, nothing is as clear-cut and men are left with few choices when it comes to dealing effectively with their women. You need to remember that you cannot be in control of her. You can only be in control of yourself. Ironically, mastering that very trick will make her trust you and leave you in charge of everything. She'll love to play the little girl... if that's what you're into, of course. I only speak for myself and to myself. 

I think what women want more is a confident man and a man cannot be confident if he isn't a man in control. It means taking charge without hesitation, have a commanding presence and a vigorous physicality... I think, I need to be strong both physically and mentally. That's what makes emotions fall under our command. We take back what is there for grabs: exercise, meditation, 

Men will lie, cheat and repeat. Women, too, can be cunning and deceiving. It's not a gender thing. But if it were, men surely are accused of being the biggest cheaters. Not just in the cheating department, but in violent crimes, men tend to be far more destructive than women. It's not something to be proud of. But since our focus is on cheating, we'll leave it at that. Are men bigger cheaters than women? How is that possible? A man cheats with a woman, so how is it that we are the biggest cheaters? 

We were wired for it. We descend from promiscuous ancestors who passed down their get down genes. Our culture foments the idea of fidelity, sexual exclusivity. That is the general understanding between couples: you belong to one another. 

No one belongs to you. You don't even belong to your own yourself. Some people will gravitate towards exclusivity, and it has advantages, but until you get there, don't fake it thinking that you're doing yourself a favor. The reason one gets to enjoy the calm open waters is because you get to play ashore for too long. You want the ocean, not the beach. 

We are like a child who wants their mom's attention because they want their mom all to themselves. We tend to be little narcissistic creatures with the emotional maturity of a leech. Some of us go from a parental dependency to a conjugal one. We gotta get out of our head, instill a sense of direction, quit anything that doesn't work. 

Speak Of the Ego

Somewhere along the way, the name of this blog changed. At least five times in less than a decade. Again, change is the order of the day. We shed our skin like snakes, less visibly so but not a whole lot differently. This very moment is up for review. If only all aspects in the encyclopaedic ramifications of these mental prosthetics that we stumble upon would suddenly manifest in such a way that signify something greater than ourselves as we are now. And as we venture in our daily outposts, know that the road ahead has already been mapped out inwardly. 

And throughout the years, the literacy's caliber upped, the erudite aim evolved, one word clicked away at a time, once more, morphed into something other than its original form. 

Nothing stays the same for long. It's an assertion that should make every moment unique and precious in time; when you engage yourself in activities that demand more of you (if you happen to be a slacker) or learn how to put off that neurotic self of yours aside, the one always bent on endless pursuits of productivity, and find space to completelyly let go, making time to simply be (if you're the busy type, find time to relax and unwind). 

Every bit of cosmic space is filled with a world of potentialities, and we choose to tune in to a singular frequency. The grain that harbours a kingdom within that Jesus spoke of (one of the greatest analogies ever devised) can be explained by quantum physics. Centuries before Christ, Buddhism talked about the concept of singularity that, in essence, all observable phenomena and everything that crosses its colloquial path, is essentially one single thing. There are no stars "above"; we're all part of it, a cosmological tree that branches out on and on and on. There's no independent outer world from the inner world of our experience. It's all an optical illusion. 

Not a fraction of a moment has passed before these words shift and mutate from a vague thought process (it is possible from a quantum principle that the present really came before that which has come to past) into a more concerted effort, like that of a carefully-structured sentence that latches unto another until a paragraph comes full circle. 

We've all been dealt a bad hand before and it's just a matter of mind before we get short end of the proverbial straw. It's how that awkward randonmness that Einstein resisted so much works, spooky behavior from a distance: particles that stem from an original point in time can still affect one another across the vastness of space as if they were right next to each other. In . It juggles all the equations and leaves you empty-handed with a full deck of cards revealed and spread in a rainbow shape on a flat surface. Life then takes aim at that which you foresee and all else ceases to exist as your focus is fixed on a unique path. You choose to experience this presence as a transient being traveling light years away. All other plausible conclusions, parallel to your condition and all within your realm of possibilities, come to an abrupt end. Be mindful of the mind you inhabit as it tends to be fixated on a few items at a time. The trick (for lack of magic) is to somehow harness the most pressing matter at hand, whatever your obsession might be, temper your edge, seize this moment, make it your bitch. 

in which life can pull at you from every direction and torn you apart into a million pieces.  

We may deem it "love", it encompasses several stages that can be interchangeable (that is lust can be followed by feelings of attachment. It all depends on how the brain administers and in what dosage, as phases go from mild intetest to full-blown attraction; along those lines, lust. You can only be who you are so long as the flood of dopamine rushes through your neural network. It has ancestry and our nature will naturally oblige, but you can master your impulse and temper your response. It is a pleasure to be such a well-trained dog, not running around sniffing strangers. Dogs with a purpose exude the animalistic demeanor that they are there for a reason, a predetermined purpose to be fulfilled. 

Things get weird under the influence of love. It has a simple home-made remedy that's worked for thousands and thousands of years: space. Make space between you and the rest of the world. Not for nothing the universe is vastly empty, although this assumption may prove to be part of a long string of adaptations, space not really being a vacuum as previously thought; space is not "nothing", it can bend, it can ripple through the fabric of time. Space is all there is and it can't be extracted from the equation or put aside. Space is gravity and it has a close relationship with all objects that seemingly hang on spatially. All that surrounds us is inseparable from the observer (the one experiencing such phenomenon) and thus its legitimacy can be compromised. This much is true: whatever we adopt as truth can be replaced or updated like all else in life's constant atate of flux. We either adapt in order to survive, or else we perish. More than perfect eyesight, a vision is required. 

Or maybe you're not the esoteric type. 

You don't see clearly; suddenly, not only do you fail to see things objectively (thanks to the brain's intricate mechanism to make you fall madly in love and paint things peachy and seeing reason as a liability), it starts to see things that are not really there. Oh the abominable things we do in the name of love. 

Men are far worse. Needless to say, not all of us are created equally. It all boils down to which voice you listen to inside your head. In case you didn't notice, your mind likes to play games with you. In fact, that's all the mind seems apt fot. 

Following your conscience and doing the moral thing requires a value-bases infrastructure that most of us simply lacked in our upbringing. 

*Don't be lazy: go to the gym, don't procrastinate much, keep up with productivity, do the groceries, cook your own meals. Again, I speak of my own list. If others find it in themselves, they can run their own drills, let their actions do the talking. It lacks tactfulness to tell others how to lead their lives. Only the true hungry that give chase and kill their own prey, allegorically speaking, know the taste of satiety. 

*Be straightforward; goal-oriented. Pleasure is in taking care of business. Drop the pretense. You get off in getting them hooked on you. That we can't hold each other closer, or talk more freely with one another and open links to an unbounded source of inspiration ripe there in connecting with others. We're way too impersonal, if not overtly friendly. There's a leverage, a middle ground that allows for us to mingle and be slightly more social and open, especially if it's people you see everyday. You can't help but to be social in a hyper-interpersonal environment such as this. People's tact and right to decency, freedom of speech as far as not even caring what you think of me. Whether you flatter me (polite smile) or disapprove of me (indifference), the universal truth of unity holds that, at the core, you and I and everything in-between us simultaneously are, were, will and would be, all potentialities exist and choosing the one in which I give a damn about what downers think of me, it'd be a complete waste of my energy. And more than time which is never fixed nor ever at the same speed though constantly in flux, unless, of course, it comes to a standstill, not completely of courses but slow enough that someone outside of our dimension can clearly observe that we have come to a slowing of things to a degree that it looks like time has come to a pause. 

Is time as weird as physicists say? Even more so than we'd like to pretend. We attract one another for reasons not always so cut and clear but seem to obey laws of nature such as aesthetics (looks), gait (style, neatness) and charm (it's like an aura that emanates from within and pours unto everything that we become involved in, how you make others feel and how argubly receptive you are as to how they view you)

You can't be needy. It's not the same as having needs. 

Anyone can feel the alluring presence of someone that strikes our fancy. It's not Mr. Spock shit either. Learn to maneuver life's twists and yet when it comes to emotions, you're still a mess. No one taught us any better. But just like you can learn how to be more active and challenge yourself physically, you can pick up ways to deal with fatherhood (daddy and mommy issues, childhood skulls, the body-count of teenage years and how we somehow, short of miraculous, survived it. 

Lack of emotion is a trait psychopaths exhibit. What we're dealing with is far less psychotic but rudeness in others is a sign of decadence. Some even take pride in their unpleasantness. That's far from the things I hereby stand. You want to keep that which brings you down in the maybe pile. You can pick at it with a casual lover who'd whip you into shit and put you in touch with that inner little girl only the truly feminine c

MEN ARE MORE VISUAL

We see body parts, pretty faces. We fail to see that girl with the symmetrical ass has an unbearable mouth. At the expense of your intellect, you spent your time paying more attention to her lips than the words uttered in between. I don't go for just anyone; I hunt big prey. I love, like everyone else, a challenge. 

Some of us are ruled by ideas of honor. Maybe we watched too many ancient films, who knows? It could be that we impartially rule in favor of madness when in love. The fact is, I speak from collective experiencrs, an accumulation of anecdotes and personal accounts; everywhere you go, the same predicament is made in stone about love. It kind of has mixed reviews, so why is it that we tend to focus on love when we're dealing with strangers and attraction, things can get so irrational. That we start off with the presumption that since we are seeking out someone to love in love. It depletes the effort, it becomes predictable, even boring. We shouldn't take niceness and friendliness as more than pathways that connect with others at a level that doesn't stop just because it can become sexual. Attraction is irrational. It happens all around us. It can be consuming. 

You need that rush when her eyes meet yours and cool the intensity with which you experience the heightened traits of feminine aura her presence casts. Only men can remain completely sure of themselves, receptive to what else is going on. It would've been a lot easier if I were at a bar and with someone I may not run the risk of seeing the next day at work. Having someone to take care of, someone to chill with and someone who needs you (again, it's not just me, a lot of men, even women, feel that way. Not that they'd want anything to do with a needy child. A real man would just walk over and ask her out for without the slightest shred of care, eyes fixed on her. You want to make sure she feels you before you open your mouth. The less you say, he better. You can stay quiet so long as you know how to carry your loved one to a state of quietude. It's okay not to say anything, especially when there is nothing significant to report. That's what her girlfriends are for. Like her friend the neighbor downstairs who spends time with us just being: drinking wine, eating, watching smart TV on mute, listening to music.

It was long ago that I rooted out the party out of me. I can't stay up past ten and always make sure I put in seven hours of sleep at least. On my only day off, either Saturday or Sunday, I oversleep and nap but always make time for the kid. My ten year old Steph. 

We rule ourselves first and what better way to rule than rooting out the excess and sticking with the very essentials. You don't need anyone; you don't want anyone too needy either. Women run away from needy men. They'll walk circles around you if you exude that take-it-or-leave-it hostage situation attitude. 

You can preferably choose to be more acquainted than other regulars you come across day in and out. It simplr, we are Do not think with your ego and get discouraged because the one doesn't respond to your first attempt. You need to exude confidence which is the appearance of always being in control. Nothing is more seductive in nature than being somewhat aloof and really mean it at the core. Don't just pretend to be tough; be tough. Character, like muscle, is built. You go through rites that are nothing other than challenges ahead. You device a way to slay a dragon (doing something extraordinary that you have had in mind as a milestone in your personal dwvelopment, not just what everyone says you should do or however they want you; people rarely come around their own projects, achievements that have universal appeal like getting in great shape or saving some money and going on an adventurous vacation). 

We need to take it slow. We need to hunt big prey in the sense that they take longer digestion and therefore you get to slowly devour them like a snake would. It is a simple analogy to adhere by, that your aim is fixed on the midterm goals (those that shouldn't take a lifetime commitment and, sometimes, the beginning of a long-term vocation or long-held ambition), midterm relationships (neither short nor long-term, ranging somewhere between a few months and a thousand nights). These "midterm" goals will have the best of both worlds: in a midterm relationship, it has the intensity of short-term and the calm tempest of a long-term. 

Like snakes, I digest things slowly, and I can go months without a bite. I think we should spend our time doing the things that bring you the most joy: meditation, fitnesswork, healthy lifestyles and being bad sometimes. How could you separate the good from the bad? Bad is when it causes others direct harm. Good is whatever feels right without endangering ourselves. 

LOVE IS WEIRD

 

I called it "love" but it really should be more like infatuation, fixation, a crush... something closer to an addiction, really. In some cases, it's best to depend on drugs than others because at least drugs you can provide yourself and you need to be clever either way. You need to stand out in a good way. In the beginning, it's best to keep things casual. It's small talk and trivialities. It's actually kind of fun until somewhere in the course of your adolescence, you find women everywhere irresistible. You tame that inner void that signals neediness and/or desperation. You can't run away from them and you can't face them. I find astounding the fact that most men go through their lives without the slightest intent to make sense of the object of their obsession. As far out and foreign as women may seem, there's a logic to them, a method to the madness.

Love makes things weird. It makes daily life psycho-rollercoaster. It seems at times that it is devoid of meaning, downright nonsensical. But it is the only thing that makes sense, that we should fall madly in love and gladly put up with the emotional upheavals. 

Let's put things in perspective. There's a reason why I don't abandon my strict position and go giving chase after that most alluvial Centaurus. 

If I had made a move on someone, it wouldn't have had lasted this long. The reason why it's so alluring and enticing is that it is, in many ways, forbidden. You see each other every day, of course, there's going to be a connection that will only strengthen in time. I may have indirectly helped a lot of people put up with a competitive corporate world and prosper in a career at big pharma just so that we could see each other every morning. Well, it couldn't hurt. I get paid to assist others and make sure that the rules by which I abide myself are followed. Other than that, it's all pure fun. I get paid, in many ways, to see people I love to interact with. It's part of the reason why I've aged so gracefully. People are people regardless of the strict norms by which they abide. There will always be curiosity, temptation awaits at each corner. It is because you know that that is the case and admit that you've succumbed to a state of temporary madness. Sure, I may sound like a cynic. But I won't stay up all night worried you don't agree. In love, you will seek out something foreign to you. You will deeply miss the other. You will look for ways to see that person. To hear from them and all about them. It's more akin to an addiction. It may sound harsh but chemistry similar to that of an addict resembles the brain of some in love. Love is a very powerful cocktail of subversive hormones and the compelling chemistry that supplies us with elated feelings of well-being is nothing more than a chemical reaction in your brain that will take place whenever the object of your affection is anywhere in sight. Of course, by your late teens you should understand this phenomenon a lot better and find it imperative to keep your composure, be cool and make others feel that whatever they go through in their dealing with you, is not taken personally. People may feel bad or not be in the mood. In some cases, there are girls who have never spoken to me even though they spend a substantial amount of time around. They wrestle inside, obviously taken by you. You treat them with the same respect you would anyone else. Sure, they know themselves more special because you make them feel so. You pay attention to them, the way they walk in. How people handle themselves. It's usually other guys who shun me. They slander me. Never in my face and not that I'll be all uppity about it either. Just that you know that at least they give you the respect of talking behind your back. I don't spend a lot of time on haters. These are people who suck up your best efforts; they rarely reciprocate and always are looking for that edge. It's okay to use one another once in a while, but no abuse. You keep abusive people at a prudent distance, do not engage them unless under your terms and always be indifferent in a way that doesn't let on just how much you quietly despise them. Still, though, do stuff for others, even haters sometimes need a hand. It's not hypocrisy. It's work. You don't bring your drama from home and you take no drama home. It's easy to be drama-free. It requires some commitment though. I can teach you all about it. Accepting others and not trying to change them; brushing off other people's disapproval of us. We get to live our lives so long as we let others live theirs. Otherwise, it is just a prison in which we serve time so that our significant other feels validated and his ego intact. We can either love or choose freedom. It requires guys to do the latter. 

Of course, I chose myself for years. I lived three years of my son's life with his mom and I thought it wouldn't be healthy for him to see his parents in a loveless relationship. He grew up autistic and it took a severe blow to her health and quality of life overall. 

I would spend time with him in my place, both my boys love spending time with their dad. It's a boot camp up in here.

Yeah, I'm improvising. I never saw much of my father and the little that I saw wasn't much, but it was some. We men can grow apart in our intimate relationship but not away from our kids. We don't need to see our kids every day but as a weekend dad, I was. I felt it was necessary to chip in with his upbringing. 

His mom's health deteriorated. She was assigned a home attendant and administered a whole variety of prescription drugs. Some for sleep, others for her mood disorder. She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I experienced firsthand the desolate conditions in which they lived, in a tiny apartment in the Bronx, along with her son who in his mid-twenties, driving around in a BMW and contributing little at home. The one-bedroom apartment was his bachelor's pad, his personal motel, his place to eat and have his clothes washed and stay up till dawn playing video games high in front of the smart Samsung TV. 

I suggested he gave his mom a bit more, some monetary relief, some incentives. After all, she was his cook and his maid all in one. He didn't oblige and it escalated one night after which he simply picked up and left. I had made him uncomfortable until he left, and I thought it was the best for everyone, especially for him. 

I love that kid. He has a lot going for himself now. He even left us the TV. 

Now he's finally settled down with just one of the two girls he was seeing. I told him it made no economic sense to cheat and it wasn't worth the headache. What's worse, it denotes an inner void. A lack of character is not showing temperance. Eventually, he sold the BMW and got his own place. His girl moved in with him. They now have plans of having a baby, marriage, and travelling. 

I've missed people I've grown accustomed to: and I yearn just as much. But the world we inhabit in our illusion is very distinct from reality. Love makes things complicated, unnecessarily so. Even when we have a leash on the savage underneath the clothes and all the social attires endowed. Nothing feels quite as thrilling as finding yourself centerpiece of a corporate obsession to possess me. Do I play along? Well, I can be impartial but you know how others turn everything into a meaningful picture. I am very cordial, personable but you can't help finding other people interesting, some intellectually, some are into fitness, others are into Game of Thrones, and  I think fantasies are a very healthy human expression and it keeps us engaged and connected. We cannot help but to succumb to the imagination even when we think we are being logical and eloquent, what we really are saying is: "Look at me! Look at me!" The narcissistic is me screams for silence and looks within, as if to say, I see the pain, is all around. If you are not to contribute, at least leave those that do alone. 

Narcissism aside, we are into ourselves to a deplorable degree and we're never gonna get over our ego. Ego is who we are and what we stand for and what we believe. Ego has a lot of pride in it, so we can only speak of ego in a healthy dose. We can use this to illustrate a Buddhist principle: the Middle Path. It's a recurrent idea, one that illustrates just how right all of those "enlightened" noble truths the Buddha spoke of. There's some ego in that, but not enough to evoke arrogance. It's a healthy way of showing off, not to make someone feel bad. On the contrary: people around feel the pull of your presence. You can go and have fun, just not too much of it. Be all about style and sport a neat appearance and well-groomed hygiene, but add more substance to it. Don't let them get too used to the way you do them. Lovers are in for the thrill, not the lesson. 

It's not arrogance; it's spotless presence, poised and brief, open and yet elusive. 

Be open to everything; and bounded by nothing. 

 -Wayne Dyer.

 

I remember reading Dyer in my late teens. It was earth-shattering. 

Books literally saved me. And so as a payback to all those writers past and present, I started writing. I'm proud to say it's gotten me into trouble with loved ones. So, I no longer write about them. If I do, it's always with a pseudonymous name, always embellishing shit. Some argue shit is always the same. That's not true, if you look closely. shit is never the same. But the analogy serves to illustrate the fact we nothing is as it seems and nothing is the way we see it. We experience reality in accordance to our own delusions. We all live in a self-tailored fantasy fitted to the personal dimensions of our capacity to dream. Our lives are probably more dull than we let on. 

I wouldn't go so far as to admit that I read this line probably somewhere around here before. 

That's how love is. It makes things weird. It paints things more rosy than they actually are and oftentimes, it takes wild turns. 

Thoughtful Way

Altruism is selfish. 

Selflessness is a rare trait, but we all admire those who exhibit such skill, discipline is sacrifice. Give indiscriminately, forgive, do not hold grudges, read a good book, plant a tree, write a book, mingle, work out. 

That last one, I do. As of late, I am getting in very good shape. 

And so much so, that I started watching my diet, too. I eat a whole lot healthier than ever before. Eggs, cheese, spinach and some other veggies, and oatmeal. I snack an apple or an orange. I eat celery, and add a spoonful of blue cheese. High intensity sessions lasting between as little as one intense minute (either sprinting or doing pull-ups, push-ups, till exhaustion). At the gym four to five days a week, I do not spend more than five minutes with any machine and I sprint on the treadmill for thirty to forty-five seconds, then stop for a few seconds, no more than thirty seconds, and then start all over.
I throw myself on any clean surface and do as many push-ups as possible. I do not leave home unless I do a combo equaling roughly a few dozen pull-ups and/or one hundred push-ups. I always sprint to the train station, six blocks away. After work, I do not spend more then forty minutes at the gym but lately I am working out somewhat longer and still more intensely than regularly. I am pushing myself, as opposed to following the plan that I had set before: to gain what I was losing with age, to keep a strong balance, a hardcore middle path but now I want to excel a bit, push myself more, get ripped. 

I quit smoking cigarettes over more than a year ago. Actually, I had picked up the habit for only three and a half years after having quit for more than seven years. I picked up smoking late in my life which makes it easier for me to quit than someone who started in their early teens. At that tender age, the brain is far more susceptible, so much more malleable, and habits formed then can last a lifetime. In adolescence, more than any other stage of life, the brain is bombarded with the most potent hormonal chemistry, a brutal metamorphosis that will push the body and mind of a teenager through the pain of puberty. 

Though the process of growth is never really over until death, it is never as dramatic as in turning a boy or a girl into a young man or a young lady. It is excruciating. Emotionally taxing. Adolescence is the closer we men have ever been to experiencing what is like to be a girl. Of course, I am only teasing. Teenager boys do not have the mastery of emotion girls their age already possess. 

Women surpass men in emotional equilibrium, in being more rational when it comes to attraction and weighing in consequences and taking the long path in love. 

Girls are clever creatures, and they have superpowers. Their intuition, that is. They can read your state of mind and your confidence by studying your facial expressions, your stance, your oratory, your presence. A girl should not be the purpose; she´s part of the deal, more than an appetizer but never the main course. Women are an important part of our life, if we are men who love women; but they are not the purpose, the fire of a higher calling. The more immersed we are in our plans and routines, the more attractive we will be, because women may say that they want more of your time but do not give her all of it either. Or else she´ll secretly resent your lack of resolve. She already has a pussy; she doesn´t need another one. 

What happens, I think, is... I feel comfortable in my own skin and it is something that others can instantly pick up. I treat others as fairly and ethically as I can. I try to see if I can be of help. If you want to make others feel positive about you, well, be positive. There is no guarantee. You have to cut out some of the dark elements; the less downers in life, the better. Even among family members, choose the ones you befriend. Do not spend too much or too little time with little loved ones, like my sons. Especially, Esteban who is autistic, very smart, ten year old boy. Today, he cut his own hair and we had to fix it. It does look a little less horrible than before but now is just laughable. That other thing he did to his hair, it was so bad it still looked pretty bad after fixing it. 

Some people want to be left alone, so I leave them alone. If they show promise, I seize it. A good vibe, an extended courtesy, a quiet nod, it all adds up to a great experience, so much so that many come for more, some just shy away or hide in the shadows nearby. Others come and engage you, these are the fierce ones, the ones I usually tend to get alone with more. I can be quiet and introspective, almost distant but always on. Looking good and doing good, what else could you possibly want?

I can be antisocial, too. I like to go back to my man cave, usually if I´m absorbed in a writing project. Reading is essential to the writer. It´s how we brag about just how much we´ve read. We can go through other worlds similar to the one we inhabit, or not. We can transform ourselves, if we only try. We can be a force of good. We can be better in many ways, or just one thing, and master it, get it done with. 

I can be antisocial to fend off undesirable elements. It is time management. Some people prefer to keep to themselves. I respect that.

I often tease, ignore them outright, throw a little hint, I can really make you feel like you are the most desirable person in a room. I know I am that good. 

I could enthrall you, no agendas. I may find you attractive. I won't say so much as a word. 

You may not agree.

You may play your feminine wiles. 

You can be rude. 

It doesn´t matter.

You can flatter me.

You can ignore me.

It's all the same.

It is pretend for some but niceness makes the world around. It radiates from within and is palpable to those around you. Let the life that surrounds you embrace you. 

A quiet smile will suffice. 

Whatever you do, it is a reflection of what goes on inside you, and I have little, if any, say on it. I do not take any offense or pass any judgement. 

I accept you. I treat you like premium. I can abandon you and you will suffer my indifference. It hurts as much as a whip. 

Cat Versus Dog People

There´s Edna, the Turkish girl who once dated me, as opposed to the other way around. It had to be explosive, she said, but it really was not. Sex, that is. "It's not that it was bad" she said, "it's that I thought it'd be mind-blowing, out-of-this-world good. You are so out there, in everything else." 

That led to a long conversation that praised the benefits of feminism in the sixties that granted women more rights and therefore independence. How such movement indirectly caused the monstrosity of broken homes; now, a "man" could simply pick up and leave the childbearing to the mother with a small price to pay. How feminism, as a by-product, created this wuss epidemic that women everywhere suffer for. We talked of the necessary evil of Kensey. Ultimately, we agreed on the necessity to celebrate this self-made macho that has come of age. Out of all the progressive turmoil that the fair sex revolution imposed on us modern men, stuck between all the forces of ghosts past and present pulling us in every direction. We now find ourselves wandering the desolate land of our self-inflicted misfortune (yeah, laws aren't passed by without men's consent), not sure which way to turn forward and knowing only that we cannot go back. It may offer unlimited options. 

Who knows? It may very well be a blessing in disguise. 

And so, that conversation stuck with me but the ¨me¨ that I am at any given time is up for review, an upgrade; therefore, who I was back then no longer is. It's interesting how an internet personality tried to dismiss the attempt at immortality by having oir thoughts and memory replicated so that it can be saved for posterity. He countered that such move wouldn't probably be in vain given that our real personality would die with us and that the digital version of us would just be another entity apart from the one that ceased to be. In principle, he's right, nothing continues being the same and so if someone's memories and feelings and ways of being are plastered over to a digital version, that version would still be a replica of the one you once were. 

But if the machine copies every digital venture of yours, it'd be easy to map people and places that they attend. There will one day be a way to transfer ourselves unto a digital realm. We're getting more in synched with technology everyday. What's more, one day the line where said technological world ends and humanity begins might be indefinable, blurred. More importantly, though, we are constantly updating ourselves internally, literally re-creating every cell moment to moment. Who we are now, will not be for long. Things are in a constant state of flux. 

Back then, I was just glad I landed a girl that lively, worldly, and so bluntly outspoken. Never before nor ever again I were to meet a girl who was my superior intellect, in every way imaginable. She was just that bright. Everyday is an adventure with someone like that. Except all women before her were not as vocal or as prone to signal discontent. And though she used a cordial tone to point out every trivial flaw in my sexual technique, I knew there was only thing to do: do her better the next time around. 

I spent three days eagerly consuming literature on the subject, watched videos on YouTube, Google every plausible connection to the subject at hand.

Of course, half way through the erudite rush, I contemplated the uselessness of my task. This wasn't a skill I could master as some irresponsible student binge-reads through dummy books and classroom notes the night before the big exam. This was something that needed patience, dedication and, of course, all of those things demanded time. Time I did not have but still, I persevered, intent as I am on finding things out, how-to-do lists, books, the miracle of the digital age literally at my fingertips. 

The next time around, I was much, much wiser than the embarrassment we had laid to waste. 

I took her and put her facing up against the wall, after a casual date and harmless topics of conversation. I held her there so that she feel my strength over hers, her body all transpired from a long day of summer exhaled an intoxicating fragrance. My heart raced steadily, like a caged, wild, rapacious bird of prey, vigorously cautious in waiting for a chance to escape and, if only momentarily, claim freedom as a permanent residence beyond the strict social norms and peer-pressure confines set by nefarious men in power so that they have a sexual monopoly over our women. 

And then there was Angie, who had a legion of admirers who would all give gifts and flowers, pick her up in fancy rides, take her places other girls only dream of. Hot girls go places, in case you didn´t know. All they have to do is flash a smile and the door is open or a seat is granted. Oh the awful things us men have to do to just get from home to work and back, the humiliations endured on our way, the desolation, the raging hormones in our body chemistry, high levels of testosterone as a result of strenuous sets of physical activity. We wake up early, and take on the world, then we have breakfast. 

Perhaps is a curse, but early on and still in many levels it still goes on, that I prefer some substance to my girl. It has to be a challenge, a tease, sexy, serious, all the things that drive a man of substance wild. If a girl owns more than one of any of these traits, even better. But better yet, we generally will settle for half the package if the girl has not adopted the types of behaviors in personality that make lovers awful, and here I take aim at some of these very issues, so that you can transcend them: jealousy, anger, possessiveness, timidity, desperation. All of those states of mind that derive from anxiety. So, how do we deal with it? Well, we do. Regardless of how we should, we have in place a system that regulates our emotions, our drives, our impulses, temptations, all of our own unique melodramas, the ones taking place in one place only, all at once: your mind. 

Here, we see clearly the picture that the mind conceives of. What we see is only possible because we have conceive of it, nurtured it, seen it a thousand times before. So, you react in similar ways under a set of similar stressors, then we can take a look at the type of mechanism you have in place to cope: 

Is it alcohol? Cigarettes? Internet? Friends? Family? Gamble? Is it your relationship? Your job? Too much TV? A sedentary lifestyle? What ails you? What really hurts and why, right now? 

¨Make a mental map of the pain you feel throughout your body¨ I tell her, as part of a guided meditation. In seven minutes, she emerges much more vibrant and crystal-clear than she had been in days. Ah, the wonders of meditation. 

You sit and inhale slowly in, let your lungs be full, and hold it for a few seconds before you, again, slowly exhale. Both inhaling and exhaling are not necessary parts of meditation. This is just to help the individual meditating individual to bring about the right state of mind faster than just trying to sit in silence and just be. Not doing, not producing, not even meditating. When you meditate, fully immersed in the moment, the notion of meditation disappears, it was never something that you did. It has how you became undone. Unsung. 

Your eyelids become heavier and heavier, repeatedly, it will put to sleep. The tone you use with someone who is in an altered state of mind. The energy with which you walk into a room. The favors you grant. The things past lovers say of you. Were you any good? Did they come back? Were you on the losing end? Who hasn´t? 

Thing is, solitude is among the most precious gifts bestowed upon a man. A man needs to retreat to a place where there are no others, no TV, no phone, no Facebook, nothing. To a man, there´s no better place in solitude than having the place to himself. We spend less time with each as adults than we did with parents and other family members when little. Depending on others was never easy, but it had all the right connections. Sisters, mom, and our beloved Zoraida. A woman that lived with us for years: she started off as being our maid since my mom went mad with power and actually hired a maid, money was not an issue so long as she kept on being the mistress of a wealthy man. How wealthy? His father owned the second largest chain of pharmacies in the major coast cities, and when he was involved with mom, we had only the best: private school to which we were picked up for and the best education. It lasted three glorious years, and I savored every moment of it. We even moved to a better neighborhood, and rented a bigger apartment. We would go to Santa Marta or Cartagena every other weekend. Zoraida would come with us. 

Zoraida was a kind person. She was very shy, unbearably naive, and right away you knew she was infectiously childlike, so characteristic of good people. 

We all loved her. My aunt wanted to extradite her to the States, have her as her own maid. Thing is, when mom´s lover left a few years later, she spent all the money squandered off the guy throughout the years in a matter of weeks. We were broke, and that´s when things changed around home. My mom did not want that for us, so she went and worked at a high class hotel casino, as a shot hostess or something, and there she met other men whom she occasionally bedded. But we got to keep the private school, the bus that brought us back and forth, home to school and then school home. We had no money to pay Zoraida, but she stayed with us so long as she had a place to sleep, eat and that´s it. She was more like a pet. We like to degrade people with animal metaphors, but animals deserve better! Therefore, men are dogs is, once again and for all, fine. That is one cute analogy I can live with. Dogs are loyal, if anything, and they are great companions, not detached or emotionally unattainable as cats. Cat people, that´s a red flag. No, well, I admire cats, don´t get me wrong and I´ve loved more than one cat lady in my lifetime, 

Who doesn´t love a pet? She wasn´t confrontational. She didn´t have anywhere to go. Who works for free? That and then some was erased the minute you met her. It was good fortune having had the pleasure of meeting someone like her. 

Yeah, I always omit real names, but this really is her name. I will name her and call her only by her name. Who doesn´t have a Zoraida in their childhood? Oh I´ve been fortunate with women from the one who brought me here, to her mom, to my many sisters (four), I was the only boy in the house. 

I was always a cat person, then I learned social tricks like the dogs. Dogs are far more social and the most successful species after us, simply because they assimilated us, they imitated us, they were there to serve and cheer and were happy when you got back home and sad when you left in the morning, and always loved going for a walk. 

Cat people? Don´t get me started. For starters, there is no walking a dog, no. There´s no amusing trick that the cat would play if it doesn´t serve the cat. Only the cat can find the cat so fascinating that it kind of brushes off its own magnificence. Who does that? Who gets to be so cool that doesn´t really care for it? Cats do. They get away with presenting themselves as enigmatic domestic ninjas, with claws and sharp teeth, it meows almost like a baby would as opposed to something as grotesque as barking. Cats are silent and self-sufficient; you can leave them for a couple of days, just provide them with food and plenty water, and toys. Cats do love to play, just you are not included. Cat people too, often devise their own schemes, themes, and crayons. A little piece of cloth would not call its attention but dangle it before their eyes and suddenly their interest is piqued. Cat people, unlike cats, are still human, part of an ultrasocial specie like ours. Yes, I was and still am a cat person. It´s just that I adopted some mean dog ways.

The Dog I envision isn´t just any dog. The Dog Metaphor, among the things that are Unsung. As in All Men are Dogs, that simply isn´t fair to the dog. A Man Dog of his Prime it is very much in touch with his wolf nature; in fact, dogs are very much like the ideal version of humans: they can be vicious with the enemy, even lethal; they can protect and guide a herd; they have super senses that can be put to good use. The dogs are not selfless completely: they somehow find freedom in limited space, always manage to be cheerful esp. when they see us sad; dogs are clock-alarms, residential guardians, and a whole lot of other things one can explore as we move along. 

How dogs managed to use us to their advantage, after all it is a really good deal for the dog to be taken out of the wild (their ancestors were wolves), get fed and cared for, have a place to stay, streets to roam, trees to pee on. We don´t pay our dogs; but some dogs render invaluable services: policies dogs, special agent dogs, trackers, herders, etc. We can see how their service really has no match and luckily for us all they demand is some love in the form of food, a little petting´s all. 

As 

 (the fact is, who you are is a work in progress.