There lives in this head-space a pitiful rake who cloaks my true being in something that’s fake. This ancient pain-body’s been there since my youth and it has long hidden my Self from the truth but now that its measure and flavor is took soon I shall resume the writing of this book.
© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
Friday, March 14, 2014
Thursday, June 23, 2011
too independent
At a young age, my mother (may she requiescat in pacem) made a point of teaching me how to mend and wash my own clothes, to cook nourishing food and to clean up after myself, to cut my own hair, to be, in effect, a self-sustaining and independent individual. <You must be able to do these things for yourself,> I remember her saying, <because you will be a bachelor some day and may not have anyone else on whom to rely.> (She understood the proper use of grammar, btw.)
I may not be able to cook a dinner party for twenty five people; I may not be all too savvy in matters financial; but when it comes to doing the things that are necessary to live a relatively healthy and happy life, I am more than capable. For the most part, this is a positive state of affairs, as I maintain a lifestyle largely free from disease and mostly devoid of excessive stress. One of the side-affects of this state of affairs is, however, that I am not beholden to others (i.e. females) to do the tasks that society (in its persistent sexism) still expects from persons with two X chromosomes, such as laundry (I hang it up outside in the fresh air), or cooking (I do not crave the skills of a superior cook, as my skills are quite sufficient in terms of nutritional value, appearance, and taste).
An additional side-affect of my abiltiy to perform nearly any household task with ease is a unique perspective on the opposite sex: since I can do nearly everything society tells men to expect of women, I view them as equals, approach them as equals, speak to them as equals, and wind up getting mixed and confusing results (due, I believe, to their having been conditioned to expect men to behave in a superior and condescending fashion).
I, the consummate bachelor, while not condemned to hermitdom, do indeed spend many days and nights alone, not necessarily fretting over my condition, but wondering what life would be like as a less capable, less industrious, and less self-sufficient animal. I doubt, however, that I will ever know.
I may not be able to cook a dinner party for twenty five people; I may not be all too savvy in matters financial; but when it comes to doing the things that are necessary to live a relatively healthy and happy life, I am more than capable. For the most part, this is a positive state of affairs, as I maintain a lifestyle largely free from disease and mostly devoid of excessive stress. One of the side-affects of this state of affairs is, however, that I am not beholden to others (i.e. females) to do the tasks that society (in its persistent sexism) still expects from persons with two X chromosomes, such as laundry (I hang it up outside in the fresh air), or cooking (I do not crave the skills of a superior cook, as my skills are quite sufficient in terms of nutritional value, appearance, and taste).
An additional side-affect of my abiltiy to perform nearly any household task with ease is a unique perspective on the opposite sex: since I can do nearly everything society tells men to expect of women, I view them as equals, approach them as equals, speak to them as equals, and wind up getting mixed and confusing results (due, I believe, to their having been conditioned to expect men to behave in a superior and condescending fashion).
I, the consummate bachelor, while not condemned to hermitdom, do indeed spend many days and nights alone, not necessarily fretting over my condition, but wondering what life would be like as a less capable, less industrious, and less self-sufficient animal. I doubt, however, that I will ever know.
Monday, June 20, 2011
on self-image disorders
I have self-image disorders. Among these disorders is this one: when in the presence of women to whom I am attracted, a part of my psyche splits off (or perhaps rises from the hidden deeps) and proceeds to render me nearly incompetent. This Dark Rising is hyper-critical: it analyzes everything I say and mind-lashes me for the slightest error in choice of words or topic; it tells me constantly, You are too fat for this girl to like you, your clothes are not nice enough for her to give you the time of day, she is only speaking to you out of kindness, and you are a revolting person not worth loving. The Dark Rising (which I am beginning to recognize as either an offshoot from or a perversion of my ego) tricks me into seeing myself as a pudgy, shy boy with crooked teeth standing sheepishly in the aisle of a schoolbus being rejected by a grade-school crush. It highjacks the self-image I work so diligently to craft, replacing it with the hard memory of being a pudgy, shy teenager with crooked teeth sitting by myself at a classmate's birthday party because I can't speak any German.
While I am talking to a girl, the Dark Rising is constantly screaming at me to walk away, to remove myself from the situation before the inevitable - rejection - occurs. What is perhaps worst about this situation is that the girls can SENSE what is going on, i.e. the internal processes I so poorly understand that have sabotaged nearly every potentially positive relationship are so obvious to the other sex that they become self-fulfilling.
For many reasons, this situation is sub-optimal; after most nights out on the town, my self-esteem is in tatters, and it takes me a considerable amount of time to mend the frayed shreds back into a workable whole.
Basically, some part of me hates me so much that it cannot stand to allow the rest of me to be happy. I presume there are clinical definitions for all of the conditions described above, and that treatment methods exist which would allow me to conquer the Dark Rising. Perhaps it is because of my stubbornness, perhaps it is because of the advances I have made in understanding and (to a small degree) in controlling these negative processes, that I have not yet sought professional help. (Studying the Tao Te Ching has been instrumental in my efforts to conquer myself and to thus become truly strong.)
Whatever the root causes, the Dark Rising is an immutable part of me. Whatever the reasons for its continued existence, it has led me into troughs as deep as they come, shadowy abysses within which the light of hope is but a cold, cruel memory, but from which I always seem to emerge (again, thanks to the Tao Te Ching, which teaches, first and foremost, to be merciful). I know that, in time, I will find the means to put the Dark Rising to rest, that I will carve alternate avenues through which my energies will flow, avenues that will lead, not to Sisyphean fluctuation, but to effortless Happiness.
Until that time, however, my stunted and destructive ego will continue to wreck any attempts at maintaining positive and fulfilling relationships, and I will continue to ride this roller coaster of my own making, the terrifying inevitability of my suffering comforting only in its familiarity.
miserere tu
While I am talking to a girl, the Dark Rising is constantly screaming at me to walk away, to remove myself from the situation before the inevitable - rejection - occurs. What is perhaps worst about this situation is that the girls can SENSE what is going on, i.e. the internal processes I so poorly understand that have sabotaged nearly every potentially positive relationship are so obvious to the other sex that they become self-fulfilling.
For many reasons, this situation is sub-optimal; after most nights out on the town, my self-esteem is in tatters, and it takes me a considerable amount of time to mend the frayed shreds back into a workable whole.
Basically, some part of me hates me so much that it cannot stand to allow the rest of me to be happy. I presume there are clinical definitions for all of the conditions described above, and that treatment methods exist which would allow me to conquer the Dark Rising. Perhaps it is because of my stubbornness, perhaps it is because of the advances I have made in understanding and (to a small degree) in controlling these negative processes, that I have not yet sought professional help. (Studying the Tao Te Ching has been instrumental in my efforts to conquer myself and to thus become truly strong.)
Whatever the root causes, the Dark Rising is an immutable part of me. Whatever the reasons for its continued existence, it has led me into troughs as deep as they come, shadowy abysses within which the light of hope is but a cold, cruel memory, but from which I always seem to emerge (again, thanks to the Tao Te Ching, which teaches, first and foremost, to be merciful). I know that, in time, I will find the means to put the Dark Rising to rest, that I will carve alternate avenues through which my energies will flow, avenues that will lead, not to Sisyphean fluctuation, but to effortless Happiness.
Until that time, however, my stunted and destructive ego will continue to wreck any attempts at maintaining positive and fulfilling relationships, and I will continue to ride this roller coaster of my own making, the terrifying inevitability of my suffering comforting only in its familiarity.
miserere tu
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