I feel like I am trapped in a man’s body. Not my physical body, but like there is a giant man around me, a crusty man suit, which I must wear to deal with the outside world. It is so heavy. But I need to act like a man so people can understand me. Men do not understand women, in my experience. You must put everything in manguage so they can hear it. If you want to seem intelligent you must seem heavy & thick. Women can understand you regardless, but I must be a man around them as well, because women need men, and I feel responsible for taking care of them.
It would feel selfish not to be a man. Lift heavy logs, stroke egos, be boring & responsible. This is my moral programming. Above all- be crusty. My feminine self doesn’t even want to be nice to people- it would prefer people being nice to me. My man self doesn’t care how it is treated though. You can break giant logs over his head and it will not deter him from trying to care for you.
My feminine self does not understand the things people say. People seem to talk in puffy word clouds, with their words having no specific meaning. Men do this especially. They puff out words & the words have that intelligent aura, but when you try to boil them down, you cannot find anything specific they are saying at all! I don’t know how to process that.
Most of the concepts people throw around mean nothing to me- love, compassion, forgiveness, goodness, kindness, equality… what are these things? Once again, they feel like clouds, positively charged, commonly used to obscure something nasty. They evoke fear in me. When you see empty positivity, you can be certain its opposite- tangible negativity- is not far behind. Why do people blow these words around? Do people wake up in the morning thinking “Equality. Compassion. Heal the World?” Or are these concepts only used when others are listening?
I don’t understand books either, though I try. I open them to a random page, read the first sentence, and realize this will be unbearable. I can tolerate children’s books- so long as there are no morals involved- and also simple autobiographies- so long as they aren’t written by writers. I detest the puffy way writers write. I guess I have real issues regarding words.
Though I wish I could be real around people, I can’t. My real self is needy, weak, pathetic. Semi-retarded. The opposite of what anyone needs. I must be peoples Knight in Shining Armor. I must protect them and be the one to take bullets. I must lift heavy logs & then retreat back into the woods with a sporty whistle. The lesbian lumberjack. It is so lonely though. There is too much of me and too little of anyone else.
But also there is none of me and too much of everyone else.
Technically there are other people in my life but they feel… predictable. They rarely say or do anything I could not have thought of myself. I wish people were more surprising and could open doors to new realities. I wish books could do the same, but I can’t find these books.
Of course, I mostly connect with others in a mental fashion. In physical life, I bet people are surprising. Robbing banks, anal sexing their cousins…
But the mental realm tends towards dullness. It may be the average person just doesn’t have much to say beyond recirculating group mind concepts. Talk to a few people & it can feel as though you have talked to them all.
Perhaps emotional relationships are the answer. What does this mean though? I think the essence of emotion is to give of yourself. To take a risk. To make a sacrifice. There must be some transfer of bodily fluids, at least on a symbolic level, or relationships are pointless. Social media does not make this easy though. In many cases you have no idea who you are interacting with and just opening up a vein does not seem advised. In real life, exchanging fluids is now illegal since it spreads disease.
Nonetheless there is something about giving of oneself, in a meaningful way, that magically opens the door between people enabling you to see through their eyes and know things you could never have known. I am not sure if words alone can do this. I guess that is why people used to sacrifice animals to the Divine- spilling living fluid to open up a portal beyond what prayer can do.
I am glad we don’t sacrifice animals anymore, but still the principle applies. Blood, sweat, tears, something liquid must spill or else nothing truly new can ever break through into this world.
Tag: men
I just need to write a quick post in defense of a dear friend- Hatred. Just like Mr. Rogers, I am a big fan of all feelings. What are feelings really, but colors that enter our body, giving us the energy & wisdom to do what needs to be done? And what is hatred but a surge of red fire to our heart, enabling us to respond appropriately to extreme situations? To set aside our vanity, our social hangups, our desire to be pleasing and simply fight for something we care about?
Why has hatred has been so demonized? I hate hatred? Hatred has no home here? Do these people love hatred so much they are hoping to keep it all for themselves? Are they are prepping future victims to not have a swift and violent response to being attacked? Do they want men to be so impotent they won’t stand up for women? Women to be so zenned out they will walk over the murdered bodies of loved ones with a smile?
There is little chance a human will overdose on hatred. It simply consumes too much energy to be sustained over time- much like an erection. No one needs to worry that their erection will become permanent and live in their pants forever. Likewise, there is no chance that hatred will set up a permanent station in your heart. It is too combustible- flaring up under extreme circumstances and then dying down once released.
When hatred comes into your heart it should be embraced so that your red circuits can flow freely. If you try to smother it down with an extra scoop of white spirituality you will only end up with social impotence. Because a man incapable of hatred has no meaningful role to play in society. He can’t get married if he is unable to summon enough red to hate those who would threaten his wife. He can’t even stand up for his own life and can only hope that men who are capable of hatred will be in his vicinity if extreme circumstances ever arise. In essence, a man who cannot hate is a wuss.
Hatred comes to us to enliven the heart and give it courage. When you really boil it down- hatred is the flame of love, turned up so bright that it begins to hurt. You only hate when you love something so much you are willing to protect, destroy & sacrifice for it. It is a beautiful thing.
Years ago I fell into a tunnel made of white
Held my arms against me & they bound them to me tight.
Follow me down. Follow me down.
Was it night or was it day, the lanterns seemed the same
Dimming for a moment and then bursting into flame.
Follow me down. Follow me down.
Did I fight? Did I bow?
I’ve been afraid for so long now
No way to still remember what I thought I’d found.
Falling forward on my knees
To think of all those precious things
To wait for all the time again to come around.
Follow me down.
Did the walls reach out to touch me with their silky hands?
Colder than the snow yet dry and sparkling like the sand.
Follow me down. Follow me down.
Do you think he cared but was possessed by something black?
Wandered so far in the night he couldn’t wander back?
Follow me down. Follow me down.
Did I cower? Was I proud?
I’ve felt alone for so long now
No way to see the way that things would come around.
Falling forward, rise again
To tangle with so many men
To wait for all the softer things to come around.
Follow me down.
If I wander further will I find the stairwell down
Leading to that chamber where the trees grow underground?
Follow me down. Follow me down.
Climbing up, fall again
I’ve tangled with too many men
Too late to see the way for things to start again.
Maybe still I did succeed
I stood there proudly on my knees
Nobody knew my hands were full of soft diamond things.
Follow me down.
And great…… it seems like the sounds gets weird at the higher parts but I still have zero idea how microphones & recording devices work. They are so complicated. Of course I should try to figure out how they work, but it seems so complex that there is really no hope of ever making progress in that realm. And so boring I could possibly die. I must be resigned to my fate and continue on. Just realize it sounds better in person & make adjustments in your imagination. Thanks!
I haven’t been able to write much recently, because something has made me non-verbal. I am worried about what is going on with the government & the worldwide response to corona virus which seems blown so far out of proportion from our normal responses to disease and death, that it is hard not to fear something nefarious is going on.
I also feel distressed that some seem to revel in the shutdowns. I suppose my faith in humanity tends to wax and wane and right now it is at a waning point. During the waning times, it is harder to speak, because what is the point in speaking if there are no sincere people to hear you?
I was expecting things to grow darker this spring as Neptune moved into the third and darkest phase of Pisces. In the second phase, which we have been living through for the past 4-5 years, the public grows infantile & self-serving, emotional & out of touch with reality. The good part is that it is a time when people are too lazy & pathetic to do much damage.
But in the third phase of Pisces, that changes. Now Pisces begins to pick up force and momentum, yet it is still insane, like a person whose body has woken up while their mind remains dreaming. The last time Neptune passed through Pisces’s third phase was when the civil war began.
So it is hard for me to look at what is happening, the words which don’t make since, the explanations which always morph and never add up, without fearing that something scary could be afoot.
Perhaps though, this is simply Neptune in Pisces’ third phase playing its tricks on my mind. Neptune colors our perceptions of life and in its third phase can fill us with irrational fear. Perhaps that is why it is so easy for people to be respond to corona virus with a level of horror they have never shown for far more dangerous diseases.
Anyway, let’s hope for the best and that we soon return to the old ways. Let’s hope this does not result in a permanent restriction of our freedoms. Let’s hope it never dampens our desire to mix and get dirty with other humans.
Here are the lyrics:
When I don’t listen you hold a pillow over my face til I do.
That’s why I don’t think you will ever love me now- you’ll find somebody new.
And I swear I wouldn’t care so long as you felt it was wrong
to just grab me by the neck and throw me up against a wall
but when i ask you bout it you tell me that you don’t want to pop
but the crying noise just has to stop.
Sometimes I close my eyes and see a world that’s black with men as white as stars.
Just like a globe that I could shake and shake each time that things have gone too far.
Something I could hold just like a globe inside my hands
So I shake it and I shake it- oh look here comes a man
But he is trapped inside the globe- he’s only one inch high
There is no place to run and hide.
Give it just a little more time. This may only be in your mind.
There’s no way to say what is real and what is make believe you know.
Look at all the stars in the sky, girl. You could find a way to get high, girl.
You could fly away into a state of ecstasy and glee you know.
I know I will stay.
Life- lay your hand on me and guide me on my way.
I stay up late at night and make a list of ways to make you love me more.
I know it won’t succeed cause men they only love the ones they’re fighting for.
And I’d do anything on earth if you would fall in love with me
But there are things I can’t control, I don’t know what you want to see.
The only thing I know for sure is that you like to be alone
But either way, you are my home.
Also please realize there are bits of paper everywhere because Patton is in a phase where he shreds paper at every opportunity. Thank you.
When I don’t listen you hold a pillow over my face til I do.
That’s why I don’t think you will ever love me now- you’ll find somebody new.
And I swear I wouldn’t care so long as you felt it was wrong
to just grab me by the neck and throw me up against a wall
but when i ask you bout it you tell me that you don’t want to pop
but the crying noise just has to stop.
Sometimes I close my eyes and see a world that’s black with men as white as stars.
Just like a globe that I could shake and shake each time that things have gone too far.
Something I could hold just like a globe inside my hands
So I shake it and I shake it- oh look here comes a man
But he is trapped inside the globe- he’s only one inch high
There is no place to run and hide.
Give it just a little more time. This may only be in your mind.
There’s no way to say what is real and what is make believe you know.
Look at all the stars in the sky, girl. You could find a way to get high, girl.
You could fly away into a state of ecstasy and glee you know.
I know I will stay.
Life- lay your hand on me and guide me on my way.
I stay up late at night and make a list of ways to make you love me more.
I know it won’t succeed cause men they only love the ones they’re fighting for.
And I’d do anything on earth if you would fall in love with me
But there are things I can’t control, I don’t know what you want to see.
The only thing I know for sure is that you like to be alone
But either way, you are my home.
Download Mp3: My Home
Step softly now
See their hooded eyes
Keep us close at hand
You may need our quick advice.
But everybody’s watching you
They got a lot to say
Just keep their words within a jar
We’ll open it one day.
After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
Step softly now
Feel the hidden hand
Through the bushes it extends to you
The outline of a man.
Then he says “Hide! Duck!
Back up against the van where they can’t see you
Crawl over to the shadows where we’re waiting
For we may be the only ones who need you.”
After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
And how do you feel now?
Standing on your own
Like a column made of fire
A feeling that you could be quite alone?
Move swiftly now
Don’t believe you have a friend
They just like to watch you trip and fall
They’ll push you down again.
So quickly run back
Into the alleyway where they can’t see you
Press up against a tree and we will be there
Perhaps we are the only ones who need you.
After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
Download: Home
I am posting this here, because it is my resolution & I need to remember it at all costs:
I must never be nice to any men or give them complements.
Not that I am going to be mean to them either. The goal is to be neutral and if I need a subject to talk about, I will talk about how awesome I am.
Because men are computers and kind words are milk that gum them up. Because men are dogs and complements register as signs of submission and inferiority.
Good men don’t want to be coddled anyway. Men don’t take bubble baths to relax. Generally, they can only relax through murdering something, in one form or another. Why waste precious milk on beings who don’t need it?
Not only will niceness corrode the character of good men, it also signals to bad men that you are available for mistreatment.
But this will be hard. Not being nice is probably the hardest thing for females to do. It may be physically impossible.
I am going to try, though, as an experiment. I can only pray Heaven will loan me the balls to follow through. If it works, and I have finally discovered the secret to men, I will let you know.
But let’s face it, I will never be able to follow through. I can already feel complements welling up in my mind. Women are programmed to sacrifice self for others and there is nothing we can do about it.
And, fwiw, when I compared men to dogs, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I really like dogs. Just like men. They are amazing.
A song… I guess… about my love for men who are boring on the outside but shady* on the inside- like detectives… or maybe it is a song about my love for the gray clouds and fog that hang over West Virginia in the early spring. All I know for certain is that I wrote this song while thinking about the constellation Scorpio in a bathtub… sometimes when I am feeling down or lost I will choose a constellation to think about to cheer me up… and the moon was in Scorpio at the time, which is why I chose it, maybe. I was in the bathtub because it was the only bathing device in the house, the house being from 1907. However, a shower head has just been installed, so life is more normal now.
*Secretive, I mean. I secretly admire people who have that quality, because I usually end up spilling all the contents of my mind, whether I mean to or not.
You could be my dark man
Stranger in the park man
Standing in your trench coat flashing
Stars above but somethings crashing down
You could be my shady friend
Standing where the street lights end
Shadows fall always behind you
No one seeks and no one finds you now
Clouds stretch so far away
Endless worlds of endless grey
Walk before me and I’l follow you
This road leads us to tomorrow, true?
Clouds takes shape but they always lie
We’ll get bored but we’ll never die
Lay your hand upon my head now
Lead me through the fog and dread now
You could be my shadow man
To offer me your white bread hand
Shelling peanuts with your finger
A dusty feeling I remember now
Life can be so many things
Sometimes swirling like a dream
Sometimes flat I’m trapped inside it
Close my eyes but they won’t hide it
Half alive but that’s okay
The other half is filled with gray
Eyes are reaching through the fog and lace
From another world I can almost place
You could be my answer man
A book to dull to understand
A slice of bread upon my plate
The rusty and forgotten gate to now.
This man was sure that the end wasn’t coming but
still he’d take a look.
He knew the ways of the men and their holidays
things read in a book
Opened his door and he stood on the precipice
gazing at the sky.
He saw the clouds they were shaped like the animals
things that had to die.
Say goodbye. No.
You will cry, even so.
We only wanted the same things that humans do
We only wanted the same things that humans do, now.
All of the clouds and the sun and the scenery
things that once seemed real.
All of the love and the words and the promises
things that people feel.
Shadows of animals seen on the wallpaper
things that once had light.
Sounds of the people who don’t each other well
fucking through the night.
Say goodbye. No.
You will cry, even so.
We only wanted the same things that humans do.
We only wanted the same things that humans do, now.
This man he knew that he couldn’t communicate
knowledge he had gained.
He carved a picture into a black walnut tree
fallen by the rain.
He said goodbye to the clouds and the scenery-
You, my friends, were right.
He hung himself on the branch of a walnut tree
Hidden by the night.
Say goodbye. No.
You will cry, even so.
We only wanted the same things that humans do
He only wanted the same things that humans do, now.
Dowload Mp3: The Same Things That Humans Do