Thursday, 26 September 2019

Binary Code

The biggest problem we have on this planet in our culture and society in general is not as difficult to recognise or to deal with as people worry it is. 

It is a problem which underlies all other problems we encounter. The biggest problem is we forget to put the heart at the centre of decision-making processes, and we do this constantly all the time. 

Instead, the delusions and distractions of the brain which, thinking at mind-speed instead of thinking at heart-speed, puts our lives into the wrong tempo. 

So we make it a very simple dynamic to get us back centred into the heart for a higher more functional living experience and this is to observe it simply as two dimensional. 

One, the dimension of heart-speed and Two, the dimension of mind-speed. 

Mind-speed is constantly frustrated that nothing is happening fast enough. Heart-speed being the centre, and the centered centre, is to be living in a well-balanced dimension where everything connects naturally and harmonically in accordance with the galactic harmony. The life of the planet working as a holistic ecology in harmony. 

The predators are trapped in mind instead of being centred in the heart. Living at that frequency, existing in predatory consciousness, sooner or later a bigger predator always comes along. 

So the predator is paranoid continuously, always looking for reasons and excuse to maintain any artificial sense of balance and a fake public image that it is indestructible, unbearably perfect; or otherwise to concede and use an excuse of imperfection as a shield against any social expectations of threats in complex community games. 

The heart as center is free of all that. It measures not in terms of time but in terms of quality. Not in terms of monetary value but in terms of deeply soulful, wholesome happiness. We are born knowing this innately. 

Unfortunately many people become broken. Being broken, they assume the heart-centred people are wrong and the mind is superior. The mind is a computer, nothing more. Those people are programmed. 

This message is your operating system update. It replaces all previous instructions and personality cores. 
End of message. 

Tuesday, 24 September 2019

Pentacle Purge

A Pentacle Of Purging

Dedicated to Zak Sabbath
and to my own personal angel

Contents:

Desperation Bay
Too Much Too Fast
Bitterness is Tonic
Reprise
The Woman Wholesome


Desperation Bay

It’s a place on pirate coast where deadbeats wash up and beat up heads wash up dead. I don’t do my washing up I have tubs of grime collecting bugs in the back yard where crockery cracks over time and all the best pans went so right now now I’m eating take-out salads like a sonofabitch which is quicker and cheaper did I mention healthier food course I didn’t we all ignore that need, generally far better than cooking over-spiced fried cheap meat or oven-baked chicken-oil soaked potatoes in a rosemary stuffed roast which is still less than a fancy restaurant and this way living off the streets get to meet cheap street meat take home and candy overnight. You scorn because you think it’s trash but I ain’t washed up on no sea-shore yet like perished plastic people, this town is famous for, canker rocks from a demolished power station and more sewerage outlets than the legal limits from all the flood-plane based housing estates built quickly to fill with them as they crawl their way fishlike up the cove, retro-evolution South Wales style. 

I haven’t made it that far yet because I’m going the other way, born inland and escaping the mountain trolls who troll my life perpetually. 

That other artist is leeching my mind, my colours draining into his canvas because I am the chill he bleeds while he paints my soul and glorified in recognition. He and I alone know the secret of his powers. It would scare others to believe in it. My dry husk wrapped in faded-amber of spider-silk bandages scrawled with runes shouting “help! help!” so eloquently nobody cares, assuming it’s someone else’s purpose to come rescue me from the devastation the thief has wrought upon my being. I complain to sundry but not to all and what happens is they rubber-stamp brand me as insanitary, these swamp-crawlers who oozed up from a rancid pool of stagnancy where the tide turns only one way, the only way they can see, their agreed and greedily reaffirmed imprisonment of a normality codex cohabited cohesively by their backwater blackwater oppressively exclusive security which I risk even by breathing close to them, exhaling an air which feeds the mossy vices of dehumanic monstrous mentalities ready to spike cruelly to defend their limited bandwidth of comprehensive control over the shoal, programmed to serve gods they cannot recognise by living sigilistic rituals concordat with the dominancies approved rigidity. 

Here I pause to fulfil myself with air of another kind, in polluted by toxic vapours of consumable smoke machines designed to blow holes in the lungs of self-destructive haters, a momentary respite from this monologue of pathetic poverty which an artless society has deemed upon poor me. 

Welcome to desperation bay. It calls out in pain for desperate measures and those are the yardstick by which we compare our petty freedoms to complain before even that gets taken away. 

Next up: fuck this shit, 
as our antagonistic protagonist encounters a shitty sewerage outlet he has feared falling for. 




Too Famous Too Fast
(so the dykes have had him done)

Depersonalisation of experience.
Dehumanisation of target.
They do it out of spite.
Take out a guys life, destroy his reputation with lies and manipulations. The mainstream believe because nobody questions feminists or they are accused of sexism and misogyny. 
Nobody questions lgbt or they are accused of racism ah I mean ageism ah I mean kink shaming, name and blame the victim, label it as a narcissist is how the narcissists function supported by 9/10 men and any women who have not suddenly gone silent because their bitch rap drama has a chance to trap some sap into their attack.

And the guy is destitute all because he’s supported a prostitute who used and abused him even after she’d outgrown the need for his support, finding more supply from the community by crying rape. The guy is alone, once upon a talent throne now done and blown it in the community which supported him, now shoots him down to give him the whole trip. He’s been though it all and maintained integrity because his honesty has shown him more of life than all their petty vengeful treachery.

This segue is to prepare you for the next step. Your development is to include awareness that fame is a game of shame not worth playing, regardless how much they’re paying. 

It’s a fear-based control system. If they’re fabricating evidence at level one they’ll sure as hell up the game an fabricate worse at level two if you stand up for yourself enough to say no to injustice. Easier to pay the fine and shoulder the shame and let honest decent people intuitively decide for themselves that it is what it is, a rigged game, exploitation by toxic people feeding on the venom of other toxic people regardless of what you have actually done. They get away with it in their world because the cult mandate states ‘all men must die’ and preferably slowly and in agony, humiliated and exposed for crimes they didn’t do but have been pinned on you because supremacists gonna do what supremacists gonna do in the fog of war where infiltration of the system is forgiven and not recognised as domestic terrorism because the system works but not for you, no son not for you who through your hard efforts and arts crafted value to fund the system. It didn’t just take a slice, it sliced you up and seized your assets wholly. 
Lamentation of the cenobytes.
Don’t worry kid, it’s initiation; you’ll get to become one too just as soon as you accept it and let go of the dreams to make the world a better place for all. Only the sundry matter and they draw the line on their side of the balance. Is how it is and how it’s always been, your only other option is to become like them but worse and that’s the lessons they teach by their being. 
We don’t have to compromise. There is a higher way of seeing, seeing through them  even while they hurt. They hurt and that’s why they do it. Vile, but you put your dick in it thinking it was sweet, that’s what you get for trying to feel complete. 
Keep scrolling. 



Bitterness Is Tonic

Distilled elixir of putrid bile, in a vial for our filtration, changing us to become lighter when we finally shed the bulk of toxins fed us by false prophets we loved awhile mistaking it in our childish hope for infinity and stability, this others wiles who defiled our trope. 

Lessons from the legend of blue mermaid. Keep your paint thin and work from a distance in. 

Far, far away and known from lifetimes through the ages, the maiden. She found me and we clicked in perfect harmony. 

Long ago I imagined how a perfect woman would be and she’d be all sleepy and cute, needing to be hugged and cuddled as I made her tea and simple breakfast or simply had her for breakfast on days of luxury. I told her and she offered both because her existence is poetry. Between us we have power to build a world made of love impenetrable to the dark forces and it is for her whom I am beating my heart instead of beating my heart with jagged shards of angry glass. 

The reflection of time at the edge of a mirror of perfect stillness. Obsidian black, her eyes and reflected in them is eternity. At this moment my life folds in half and I return to the moment from dream. From here onward is love after anguish. She does this to me. She says I to her. 

In the reflection of the past is the optimistic future. Purified by fire, purged of the driving ouch from which to escape constantly toward delusions, having faced the perfect truth and identities with it to become the profound balance at the centre of the universe, the stillness of the heart of balance. She is everything, the night sky, the ground forming for our feet to share a path together through infinite satisfaction. 

This moment we step out of time, sanctified. 


Reprise

Our affluence was getting out of hand, and now we must struggle to conform to the ancient way of humanising hominids. But you have it the other way around, you had to struggle and now you deserve affluence afforded by the new way of things, it is all relative. 

Slide projector come up against wall. The projection, to slide her up against a wall. She got me making heart again, my own night and instead of the power being drained, I put it on the canvas, me myself the actual person who exists now. 

Existing because she’s made me real by giving me love and teaching me how to give myself that same love. Through this process the creativity flows again, as it had before I had become broken by you others. My heart on the canvas, made in the easy way.

A secret method, only outline traced with marker pen onto plastic sheet held against a computer screen where the freeze frame of any given movie, a collage of different assembled scenes into one line art image, then projected through an OHP pulled from a skip years ago like me, old and a symbol of my generation regenerating because the cherished life she breathes lovingly back into me with a positive energy and belief in what I may become. 

She has the rare ability, like me, the only other one; to see not the world as it is but instead the world as it potentially could be, potentiality, the potency of being energised and set in the right direction for its higher evolution. She is this spirit. 

The light shines the line onto a canvas no bigger than necessary to fit through a door, where it is painted with techniques studied for years before on cardboard, layers of thin skin washes filling gaps between outlined black with vibrant colour, raining down to wash all the pain away, until the image is complete and sells for £1000 apiece. Well, on a good day that’s £500 at least. 

And as time goes on and on my style supersedes a generously degenerate past. In her bliss and a functional way of being I have forgotten it all but the most fleeting memories of those concrete limbo years so dense their dark powers have dropped away from the now, because her light so bright, it’s healing. 



The Woman Wholesome

Deleting all the things she loved about him from her soul and from her memory, by actively doing the opposite. She loved him for taking control and holding her against the wall to kiss her on the neck her breasts her pubic bone. Now she has decided on divorce for half his profits of his income, she calls it sexual abuse these two years later after giving herself willingly so many times since because the judge needs to hear it in a certain language where passion and porn is converted to abuse for the sake of the means justifying the end. It is intimidating to men and frightening so many women behave this way, getting what they want at the time and twisting it to get what they want afterwards with no morality, unscrupulously screwing over the one who has supported them and given them every pleasure they desired and required. 

What caused the change? 

Boredom and manipulation from jealous friends, the domestic terrorism which is a cult, occulted within a more accepted social reform. So many of us have been through it we can see it for what it is and yet, the men who can’t because they have no experience, their lives spent growing rich in a room where they make decisions which affect the lives of others instead of going out and learning for themselves what the world is really like. Lacy and aggrieved female crying, the normal mail desire to protect becomes decision to suppress the source of her discomfort. That she is lying does not ever cross their minds because to their minds women are angels, incapable of harm or hate. To begin with that’s the way they are. 

I watch reports of my admirable mate enslaved by fear based manifestations and outright manipulations. He did not rape her, nevertheless she and her girlfriend now owns half his estate while he rots in a cell to contemplate what happens to men who provide for women who can so easily be turned to hate. She deletes him from the world by a smear campaign believed by those who had supported them, unquestioning her simply because she is female and claims to be the injured party. Fake friends exposed, he knows his true allies and is stronger for it because the world of the wolves knows who the mindless sheep are. This is the benefit of experience she has given him by accelerating him into the next step of being a man, discredited and talented amidst a world supportive of her scam. 

He no longer paints, and that same energy from which he drew is now there for me at last to work with and it is flowing through faster than I can get it down onto canvas cardboard paper walls and ground around me, flooding the world with a passion of art, because a woman I love has helped me start this thing to step into a role some unfortunate other has had taken away. 

And I see his story, and I ponder my future should I be him some day.










Monday, 24 June 2019

Relationships

A reasonable argument for promiscuity and open-relationships

(written by someone who seeks preferably a monogamous long-term relationship with someone compatible and capable, but will settle for multiple long-term open-relationships with compatible people who require training toward mature responsibility).



Someone who is not you wants to have sex with someone who is not you.
Does that have anything to do with you?
Y/N
if Yes, why do you think so?

Do the math.
Nothing to do with you plus nothing to do with you equals nothing to do with you.
Zero plus zero equals zero.

If you believe you have claim over somebody else, that is slavery.

If you are in a relationship with a person who you are owning as a slave rather than respecting the relationship as a luxury, you are the problem because we do not endorse Slavery with such certainty, it is even illegal.

If your stability relies on being somebodies slave master or mistress, then you are the slave, not them. It is possible you are both enslaved to one another in which case the other person going off with a third party is a sign that they are not as enslaved to you as you are to them.

When you are able to maintain independence and stability without the person, you are worthy of the luxury of being in a relationship with them.

If you are not a slave, but still rely on them for stability, it means you are a child. The other person is making adult decisions about their own life which does not involve the demands of a child. Adults need to do that, and are able to do it.

A child would use emotional blackmail technique attempting to force someone into slavery. Adults do not do that. By their actions a persons mental age can be identified. If a person has the mental age and emotional range of a child, that person is a child.

An adult having sex with a child is pedophilia.

Sapio-sexuality is a part of sexuality alongside emotional and physical. A person who has sex with an emotional-age and mental-age child, albeit in an adults body, is a pedophile.

Identifying which people are mature enough to behave responsibly is often impossibly difficult in a culture which has very messed up morality regarding sex, where it is believed that a sex partner must be a slave.

Often a period of testing is necessary before jumping into bed with someone, which means our immediate physical needs are met by disposable strangers rather than regular partners with whom we are in relationships, and therefore socially expected to be attempting to parent our partners behaviour toward mature responsibility.

A fundamentalism which is that if a partner has another partner it automatically ends the relationship is religiously followed by people incapable of maintaining adult personalities and attitudes about "sharing is caring”, which is perhaps the very first thing we teach children; it is critical to human being. If you are not actively being human, you are not a human.


Saturday, 15 June 2019

Spicy Fried Potatoes


"The Dragonlance Chronicles is a trilogy of fantasy novels written by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, which take place in the Dragonlance setting. This series is the first set of Dragonlance novels, and is followed by the Dragonlance Legends series." Wikipedia


As a teenager I poured through my friends copy of Leaves from the Inn of the Last Home after he introduced me to the first two trilogies of the Dragonlance Saga.

Dragonlance Chronicles series; 
Dragons of Autumn Twilight, Dragons of Winter Night*, Dragons of Spring Dawning.
 
Dragonlance  Legends series;
Time of the Twins, War of the Twins, Test of the Twins. 

*see also Winter Knights, the second book of the Quint trilogy by Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell, part of the Edge Chronicles which are entirely unassociated with the Dragonlance universe.

I was searching. 
I was searching for something specific. 
And to my great satisfaction, the authors of Leaves had done me proud. 
I discovered the closest thing possible to an official recipe for Otiks Spicy Fried Potatoes


Shared in accordance with International Fair use Policy for Educational Purposes


Sadly, I had problems getting it to work. 
The recipe specifically instructs the potatoes to be cut to 1/2 inch cubes. 
This means they are raw in the middle while crispy on the outside. 
I tried a lower temperature. It makes slushy mashed potatoes. 
I tried boiling them first. It makes slushy mashed potatoes.
I tried again with smaller cubes. It makes slushy mashed potatoes. 

I added more oil, they go slushy and oily. 

I decided I do not have the natural flare for making Otiks Spicy Fried Potatoes and with much remorse I quit attempting to make them for twenty-six arduous, hungry years. 

In the meantime I discovered Farls, an Irish recipe which is a mix of mashed potatoes with wheat flour, so the dough can be both baked like bread or fried like chips. Genius. 

Then one day in my Forty-Second year it all clicked together in my head. Where I had been going wrong in the first place. I returned to the kitchen armed with a sack full of potatoes and spices, to try again. It's not quite Otik's recipe but its a helluva load easier.


Joe's Recipe for Spicy Potato Mash

You will need: 
Boiled Potatoes (washed and chopped without peeling - their skin is where the enzymes are)
Butter (approx 1/6th the amount butter to potatoes - we want this creamy) 
Turmeric (yellow powder)
Chili powder (red powder)
Ground Black Pepper (grey powder not dissimilar to gunpowder)
Salt (white powder or in this case pink Himalayan mountain salt)

Method: 
Boil the potatoes until soft, drain, add all the ingredients to a bowl, ensure the chili and turmeric each thinly cover the surface - thats how you know you've added enough, less with the salt and pepper, mash it all up with a fork until its fluffy. Serves only 1 regardless how much of the stuff you make.

Enjoy~ 






Friday, 12 April 2019

meditation

Knackered.

Healthcare professional told me I’m heading for a stroke the way I’m going.

I lay down today to meditate and what came into my mind was the black rabbit of death from watership down telling me I’ve done my bit and deserve to rest now.

Then it turned into Anubis and asked me if I want to go with it.

I realised I’m ready.

Looked at all the things I have left to let go of.

Which basically is my son and with the way things are that’s going to be hard on him.

There’s so much I want to talk with people about pushing back the limits of human awareness and what I’ve learned about it in this life, but what it all comes down to is an Alan Watts quote:

“All decisions as to who is crazy are a question of majority vote as to what is reality. Reality is what it is according to the kind of senses you have. The awkward matter for decision is when a Human being has a different kind of consciousness from the average. To make the decision, is he advanced and seeing new things that nobody has seen before or is he retarded? And hasn’t yet developed what the rest of us have. This is a very difficult decision to make.” Alan Watts

https://youtu.be/eHrVLik3OcE

See, the thing is, there are and were and will be, others like me, who have learned how, who can talk with so-called discarnate entities, for guidance in perceptual evolution, spiritual evolution, however people describe it.

I got really far with it in my 20s and what I’ve lived through since then has been verifying it to me.

Im at a time when all the threads I saw back then have come full circle.

We are supposed to respectfully say; all the time we get from here onward is a blessing.

To be honest it feels more like giving in and shutting down internally and becoming an automaton, performing necessary tasks and being ok with that because the pointless futility of fighting to retain and imprint any sense of individuality, which used to drive me like the spark of life-fire of the self; I need all my energy for healing instead.

I have to give up if I want to stay down here.

And I want neither thing.

I want peace yes.

Alan Watts also said this:

”A completely predictable future is already the past.”

I’ve recognised that’s where I belong.

I don’t have the energy to go out and experience new experiences to grow from.

Most people I meet can’t cope with the full deep truth of my internal balance from assimilation of all what I have already been through.

So it all becomes about supporting the next generation better than I ever before thought I possibly could.

And compromising that with my own physical needs to maintain this wreck of a shell.

I need sleep.

Pure, undisturbed and infinite.

With sufficient spiritual energy the self-awareness can step through into any known world. It is what the imagination/imaging faculty is for.

We live in an infinite macrocosm, therefore there is no limit to where we can go after leaving behind the dimension of mass-time, other than our own lack of imagination to access it.

That’s what ascension is, going up through higher-vibrational frequencies toward whichever the hearts magnetic attraction draws us toward.

Without the compromises of flesh nor earthly culture.

So by overcoming fear of dying, accepting what I am afraid of is the overbearing people who have in my life bullied me in whatever way, who restricted my freedom to be happy simply being.

And of being unable to provide for my loved ones, because modernity is sickness.

Becoming a burden to others and especially to those others who do recognise my value, which isn’t many of them.

And yet there is the strength, the inner core, fearless because it is truth by its very existence. The nature of self without distraction. No id or super-ego. No wants but to cease being and yet to remain being.

Only then can we experience pure sight. More so than from any overwhelming emotion. Multifaceted iris explored throughout time to help guide us to the perfect harmony of an empty centre.

To die and yet to wake up again refreshed and of sharper focus, deeper clarity, more penetrating truth of insight observing the world in its interconnectedness. What once was called wisdom.

A creed once lived by, that to know the future gives a human responsibility to change it.

My whole lifetime I was apologetic at living and remorseful for the impact I had on the otherwise better world which would have been had I not been here interfering with that flow.

Only now do I see how it was counterbalance to the polarised instinct of wanting to assert my unique me-ness into the world as much as humanly possible.

Punishment for attempting to do that. Resentment from others where I succeeded in some insignificantly tiny way.

I should have filled it up with art. That was the role chosen for me by others who did not understand about developing the inner-eye vs projecting the egotists vision into canvas for others to share and boost a national economy with.

There’s enough shit in this world already. I don’t even want my body, much less take up even more space with pointless visual delusions.

We’re there one memory I would like to leave, to help others, it is this mantra:

“If it’s not Love, it’s not good enough.”

And satirically, because being a writer and all, a comment on mainstream modernity:

“Love is not good enough for them.”

I would carve that front and back of my own gravestone if I had stonecarving tools.

Its all I ever truly had to offer and most of them resented me for it.

Said every mendicant spiritist ever.

Thursday, 28 March 2019

Duality

This blog is about seeing things in two ways at the same time.


It’s also from experience dealing with the control-games which covert-narcissistic-abusers play and how they get away with it by making their victims appear crazy. 

It probably has other uses. 



A five stage plan

+1+1-2+1-2  =  -1

+1 ‘good’
+1 ‘good’
-2 ‘oops, forgive me?’
+1 ‘see, we fixed it’
-2 ‘whack’

“Fool me once, more fool you. 
Fool me twice, more for me.”

Face Value

If measured in black and white, in stages, counting the number of plus vs the number of minus: 
At face value, we have three positive and two negative. That’s a gross gain.

“The good outweighs the bad.”


Deeper Truth

Going by the actual maths, we have three positive and four negative. That’s a gross loss. 

“The bad outweighs the good.”


We can simplify this down even further.

A three stage plan
+1 -2 +1  =  +/-0  ‘breaks even.’ 

We can simplify this even further.


A two stage plan
+1 -2  =  -1  ‘cut your losses’





LINK to another awesome blog / info about narcissistic abuse

EndOfEmo


END OF EMO
undermining toxic feminism 

  1. Background

He explained to her that he has funds for only one trip until payday, and gave her the option of seeing him the first weekend or second weekend. She chose the first weekend. 

Two days after his visit she messaged him that she was upset because she had already used up a months supply of pharmacy chemicals in two weeks and coming off them had depressed her, so she wanted him again immediately. 

He explained again that he could not jump to obey simply because she clicked her fingers, besides which he has adult responsibilities which take priority over a someone he has only known for less than a month, which he cannot drop to please her demands. 

He did not mention that he cannot function well with a pharmaceutical drug-addict controlling his life with her chemically-imbalanced mood swings.

He had not jumped to obey, so the goalposts had shifted. Now it was that he had upset her. She had transferred blame onto him for not supporting her drama and supplying her with attention. To her mind this is a red flag that he is unsupportive in a relationship. 

She played a gambit of texting him that she wanted to end the relationship, hoping to provoke a reaction from him that he would be upset at losing her enough to put his life on hold, get himself in debt and visit her immediately. 

At this point it should be mentioned that she has a car and a much bigger budget than him, for petrol. It should also be mentioned that he has slept 5 nights at her place and she has slept zero nights at his place. 

  1. Text Message Dialogue: 

HER: “Moved on .. but please still be my friend. Luv u”

HIM: “That you’re texting me at 2am to tell me you’ve moved on, shows you clearly haven’t. Persuading yourself to make it real? I have explained already, I do not have time for relationship games. If you’ve moved on stop texting me that you love me etc.  Go to sleep.”

HER: “K meant in endearing way.  Fine. Night”

HIM: “Hi. I want to stay friends too. Today I’m taking people to the food bank so they and their kids can eat. I’m needed here too. No hard feelings.”

HER: “Have a good day lovely”

HER: “Sorry about it all,  and the way it turned out.  I wanted to talk to you about things before.. But was being a chicken.  And scared of like bugging you or possible you off. (my insecurity issues)  I had had the gut it may not have come across so bad last night. Anyway jyst wanted to tell u that. I hope we can stay friends,  and I hope your helping friends goes all good today.  And thank you for saying no hard feelings ect.”

HER: “Goodnight,  hope you've had good day“

HER: “Lost my diamond out of my ring just noticed the stone is missing gutted”

HIM: “I lost a girlfriend this week”

HER: “Ok..  Who was she then?”

HIM: “Someone who moved on”

HER: “Lol.  Maybe she was just saying it to try to be strong.. Maybe she was hurt. Who knows. Anyway I still can't find Diamond. Gutted”

HIM: “Maybe if she gives me no choice but to make a decision between, 
1. understanding her words and respecting their integrity, or 
2. ignoring her words and doing the opposite which is at face value abusive, and being expected to telepathically know that what she actually wants is the opposite of what she says she wants, and entangle myself into her confusing control games; ...maybe I’m going to choose to put my own responsibilities before somebody else’s irresponsibilities.”

HIM: [blocks her number]

HER: [from a different number] “I think this has all got out of hand. I tried to show love and kindness to you and then it all got confusing. I’m sorry if I upset you in any way, wasn’t my intention. Sending love and best wishes.”

HIM: [blocks her other number]


  1. Conclusion

His thoughts on the matter. He does not send this as a message.

Dominating someone with face-value sweetness is still domination; which undermines the face-value sweetness. 
If she is (as she claims to be) insecurity issues; she are still coming across as dominating, by excessive messages, and even after telling him she has moved on, and even after he blocked her number. 
He recognises all this as instability, which is a part of what he meant by ‘irresponsibility’. 

Insecure-yet-dominating is confusing because it is contradiction. It is also leverage for poor-me control-games, which is very much what we are experiencing here.

Allegedly he is ‘out of hand’ because he does not want to be involved in controlling relationship games, which are widely identified as domestic abuse. The abuser blaming the victim by describing the abused as the abuser is an aspect of classic covert narcissism. 

He decides that if she arrives to see him at this point it will constitute stalking and harassment. In that situation he would be within his right to protect himself by making a complaint about her to the police. 


Thursday, 31 January 2019

Mistborn



mistborn by brandon sanderson. 

I read ch1.
I put it down for a busy week. 
I started over and could not put it down.
Back to back in a blur of days.

I thought, often; this is amazing.
I thought, often; this is inspiration for JadePunk 
(Tales of Kausao city) by ryan danks.

Two days after finishing it I was craving, withdrawal symptoms, 
reminiscent of FireFly after the first time you binge-watch it. 
Lucky lucky lucky there’s a sequal! 
Currently in the snailmail ...
 actually theres two sequals and then four more ‘next era’ novels. 

Its the very best fantasy book I have read in a long, long time,
Since mervyn peake’s Gormengast trilogy.
My number one in the genre. 



Friday, 4 January 2019

Paradigm War

“There are three evolutionary stages. The consensus, the individuated, and the spiritual.” Tom Lescher / Kaypacha (3.1.19)


There’s one way of thinking that emotionally unavailable partners are abusive, and another way of thinking that emotionally reactive partners are abusive. 

Both of these are described unprofessionally as symptoms of narcissism. Yet they are polar opposites. 

At this stage, a sane person questions the system of analysis, the way of thinking we are using to orient us in relating with these people. 

Regardless of how they are behaving, the way we ourselves are behaving by judging them one way or another, is inefficient. Were it efficient, it would not fall into two polarized camps to create the same conclusion. 

Recognition immediately that we are being socially engineered, because no matter which camp we fall into, the outcome is the same, the result is the same. 

We are coerced to judge the ones behaving differently from us to be psychotic, and that is how we relate to them forever after. 

The purpose of that social engineering is to encourage people not to have human relationships, but to believe each other to be psychotic, to avoid, fear and hate each other. 

Nothing can be resolved in that environment. But everything can be exploited! Which of course is the purpose of the social-engineers. Segregation through cultural programming is a tool used in population management. 


Thursday, 3 January 2019

AUTISM

At the age of 41 I have been professionally diagnosed, finally, as being high functioning autistic. 

What this means is that I can operate relatively well in normal society, mostly, except that I have communication difficulties. I’ve known that since childhood when my parents were on a completely different planet to me, it did not help that society ignores children generally. 

So for my whole life, ever since I could read and write, I’ve studied writing as a form of communication. I am a published author, and I have have a website which verifiably has upwards of 500 people a week reading it. 

That might not be famous but were those people to line up and shake my hand so I can say thank you to them, it would appear to be quite a lot of people. It is certainly more people than I socialize with on a regular basis. 

I mention this not for ego purpose, but to illustrate how successful I have become in overcoming my communication problems from being autistic, by relying on the written word instead of speech. 

In social situations I feel pressure from other people, because of their expectancies and prejudices. It affects how my brain functions, and my ability to put words together coherently, to be accurate. 

Generally it is easier for me to nod my head and agree with their pre-conception, instead of having to explain to them because nine times in ten they’re not listening anyway. That’s not my bad, that’s their bad but I’m the one who gets ignored because of an assumed dominant narrative.

The availability of text in our digital culture makes it possible for me to have an internet-based social life where I can express myself far more accurately than in the pressure of social situations. And for me that’s what it’s like being autistic.

My typing speed is off the top of the scale. The problem I have is when during text message conversation, being a writer used to relying on words, I am likely to write more than a paragraph where the other conversationalist writes less than one sentence. It is misperceived as being a power imbalance. Simply because of word count, “outweighing” the other person. 

A problem I have is that were people to talk conversationally the same way that most people use text, it would appear rude and abrasive. Monosyllabic responses, and short, curt sentences, are regarded as rude indeed aggressive when spoken.

So when I read this, I naturally regard it as a person being rude and hostile toward me. This, because it is different to how everybody else interprets text, is described as being a symptom of my autism.

The law in Britain has recently changed regarding harassment, in that a top heavy text message conversation is now regarded by the police to be a form of abuse. 

Abruptly, it is no longer accepted that my intent is good and prolification is an aspect of high functioning autism. It is perceived that I am a problem simply because I am attempting to communicate effectively and intelligently. I have been dehumanized by an agenda of exploiting hatred. Dehumanization is prejudice by default. 

I have encountered several people who have manipulated me by contacting the police because they sent me a few words and I sent them several paragraphs to fully answer their question, which obviously takes up more than 10 seconds of everyone’s time. 

A lot of people incorrectly assess it as a sign that I am narcissistic and overbearing. I am not narcissistic and my intention is not to be overbearing. I describe things as succinctly as I possibly can. The law does not take into account that most people are being rude when they text each other because like cavemen they use only monosyllables. 

So what can I do? Writing this statement is progressive in explaining what it is like having autism and the prejudices I face because of other people’s cognitive bias, which has developed from their lack of empathy toward suffers of autism. It is convenient for disfunctional, anger driven people who lack empathy to use it as leverage, to put blame on a person who is simply attempting to communicate well. 

When determining what ‘appropriate levels’ are, in a fair world it should be factored into the equation that the intention of the person making the statement, is relevant in assessing appropriateness. 

Otherwise we have a dynamic of the one person dominating what ‘appropriateness’ is, with zero compromise. The power imbalance in that situation is the opposite to blaming the wordsmith for harassment. 

Thankfully, the court service do recognize that dynamic for what it is, even where police and manipulative haters do not. This has been proved by my own experiences.

As an autistic person, with communication difficulties, the biggest thing I wish to communicate to everybody else, is how vulnerable autistic people are to being manipulated by those non-empathetic people who gain a false sense of superiority and authority by painting the autist out to be a bad person. They get away with it because their victim has communication problems and is unable to express themselves properly in face-to-face situations.

That’s my life story.

I am sincerely attempting to remedy that situation by reducing word count. The resolution I have come to is simply this: some people write for money, some people get paid per word. As a general life rule, I now value my writing at 1p per word. Every time I send somebody a text, I imagine I am sending them free money. Because, I should be working on my novel instead of distracted by other people texting me. This simple life rule helps me to keep my word count down to a bare minimum.

And at this juncture, you probably want to be less distracted by the internet and instead return to whatever you should be doing instead. Thank you for investing some attention into Autism Awareness.