A Week in the Life of
Another chapter in the books; building that context.
Because I do not have a father I’ve had the luxury of choosing one for myself. I picked Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Truth is handsomer than the affectation of love. Your goodness must have some edge to it, else it is none.” from his essay Self Reliance.
Brother this part isn’t easy for any of us. Matter of fact, this part is the hardest for all of us. The real truth is that by wrapping our mind around these things we are healing each other. Healing someone is always a double effect. I have never once helped someone out and it wasn’t also helping me out. I’ve never pretended it’s not the case. Many who claim to be “healers” actually just have what they call a saviour complex. I’ll pass on that.
It turns out, that when we turn within, one of the things we have to do, one of the roaring rivers we have to learn to cross on our way up the Mountain of Life, is just how selfish we are. The real truth is that we are just down right selfish monkeys. I’m not going to argue the cause of this, because knowing the cause won’t change anything. It doesn’t matter why we are this way. What matters is fully realizing we simply are this way. It is best to simply see it about ourselves, and accept it; we are selfish to the man. If a person denies this fact, watch your back.
If we follow this line of thought to the end, it’s actually a paradox. Something, something, for me to be the very best that I can be, I need everyone around me to also be their best. I can’t be the absolute best version of myself, if the people around me are not also their best self. We primates are tribal. If we follow this line of thought to the very end, it’s just like I said; the most selfish thing we can do is help everyone around us be their best, so that we can be our best. This is our only chance at truly being our very best.
You see we are all always selfish, and ignorant, but we are not all always stupid. Stupid people will hold other people down, so that they appear to be the best. They ignore facts. It’s true sometimes monkeys do hold others down out of ignorance, but mostly it is stupidity. They know better, but do it anyways. Such a tactic will not actually bring about one’s best self, only the appearance of it, to other ignorant and/or stupid people. It’s merely an appearance. A tactic of the psychopath. It’s never in our best interest to hold others down.
Many people get hung up on this word; stupid. Let’s be clear: Ignorance is when we simply do not know something. Stupid is when we know something, but act as if we do not. Stupid is ignoring facts. I consider it to be a mark of maturity to be able to accept one’s own stupidity. Those who believe the way they were taught to socialize during their domestication years really struggle with this the most. They never want to hear that they are stupid.
Often times people try to criticize me for using this word stupid, because they say we shouldn’t talk like that to other people. A fact is a fact though. I’m not here to mix words, or win a popularity contest. The most intelligent monkeys I’ve ever studied all acknowledged their stupidity. I agree with this, that we shouldn’t say stupid, if we are dealing with children. We should never tell children they are stupid, but we are considered adults. I’m not writing a children’s book, we are all in grown bodies, so childhood rules and tactics no longer apply.
Another way to say it is, that the way we were taught to socialize in public schools doesn’t really work as adults. Look around. Even in the highest rankings of politics they are still acting like they are in high school. It’s embarrassing. I’m not interested in perpetuating this indoctrination of domestication. The way I see it, we were taught not to question authority even when it is absolutely stupid, which is exactly why we were taught to never do this. The moment children were to start openly, actively, pointing out how stupid it is what is going on; the gig would be up.
Just imagine if you can, how different things would be if as children we were able to call it for how it is when they were domesticating us. I call it how it is.
Back to selfishness: Plain and simple fact; It helps me when I help someone else. In turn helping them, helps those around them, which also includes me, which, of course even further helps those around me. It’s an endless closed loop. Around and around we go. The ripple in a pond metaphor comes to mind. A single pebble can affect the entire surface of the water. We could call this altruistic selfishness.
That is about as paradoxical a way of saying it as I can think of; altruistic selfishness. Thinking about it this way prevents self importance, because if I’m being honest, and I must be ruthlessly honest with myself if I am to heal; I’m really just utterly selfish. It’s a fact.
This level of honesty keeps it real, instead of inflating the ego. Real humility is when one doesn’t pretend to be something they are not. I am no saint. I am no savior. My intentions are not pure. I want to be healed of my bullshit. I am simply making the best of this situation in this monkey suit that I can. If we pay attention, those who help others with a sense of self importance about it don’t turn out to actually be very helpful. Truth is what sets us free, but the truth hurts when we’ve been taught almost nothing but lies. It’s not a good time. Truth puts an edge on our goodness. Real truth will put a razor edge on our goodness. Surgical.
One of my longer running brothers, I’ve named him John. Well, I’ve been dropping knowledge on John for something like eight years now. We first met when he was in his early twenties. He’s about to be thirty this year if my thinking is right. I’m the first male to enter his life, to let him know that he was in fact incredibly abused as a child. I prefer to heal with the Words. This gives a fella an ability to heal himself. I don’t save people. I just give them the words they need to save their own self. God does nothing for a fella that he can do for himself.
Neither of us could calculate the number of hours we have spent talking about life. This way of healing with words doesn’t create a dependence. In our relationship I’m simply the one who has studied the trauma. I’m almost twenty years older. I have all this experience with the darkness of life. I love studying people. So ultimately I am only giving him the words that he doesn’t have, but needs, so that he can put a proper context on his own situation in life. It’s completely up to John to do what only he can know to do. I do not ever tell him what to do. I tell him what I see. It really isn’t all that complicated at all.
It does however take a lot of time, because that’s what growing up is; the passing of time. We talk, he goes and has experiences, he comes back, we talk, he goes and has experiences. We grow with the seasons. We are nature. I am just an enormous book about life which he does not have the time to read. He doesn’t have certain luxuries in life like I do, and I don’t have many of the luxuries in life that he has. We trade. We are Brothers.
When I met him, because of his abuse, John could not cry. My boy was so locked up inside, so traumatized, so thoroughly abused he couldn’t even cry. It’s inhuman to not cry. This is common with males who come my way. John hadn’t cried in almost ten years. He just stuffed it all down. Nothing but video games and weed.
To shorten the story; My advice to anyone in this predicament is to go fall in love. If a fella falls in love, especially if he’s been abused, he is going to end up crying. We can never see it coming, but when we have been abused, and we fall in love, it is just never going to actually be a good time. Only that most powerful feeling of being in love will give a fella the energy he needs to break down the wall he has built up around his heart. This is never a good time. Without the force, the power of being in love, I’d say it can’t be done. A guy will just live out his life an empty shell and die. I call this a dead man walking.
The famous poet Rumi said, “You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” I’m telling you that is one of the truest sentences ever written. I myself employed this in my own healing. I’ve broken my own heart so many times now. It took me eight times. With females that is. There are other ways to break our hearts than with a lover. Life has ways of doing this to a fella without needing a lover, but only after the main protections have been brought down. Most everyone avoids the solution, that of a broken heart.
One of the things I’ve learned in my own process is that talking about our issues does not get us in our feelings. It never worked for me, and I’ve seen it work for anyone else. I guess it’s possible somehow, but I’ve never seen it. I could go to a therapist all day, every day, and it’s never going to get me in my feelings. Talking about it just doesn’t get it done. When my lover lies to me, cheats on me, picks some other male over me, or abandons me, I’ll have no choice but to be in my feelings. Or as happened to John, when our lover turns out to just be a complete and total psychopath, well then, we can gain access to our feelings. It’s only having a living experience that will engage our feelings, but as I’ve said, only if we have this tremendous energy of being in love.
The simplest way to explain this phenomenon is that our unconscious is going to repeat our unresolved experiences, so that we can see it for what it is. Our unconscious does not like us living lies. It’s the unconscious synchronizing these events because it wants us to be whole. It wants us to be complete. It wants us to have our feelings. It doesn’t want this fractured traumatized ego self screwing everything up.
Anyone who has fallen in love knows that it is not a conscious choice. Our unconscious is picking this for us. Falling in love simply happens to us. Falling in love is one of the most powerful things we can do for ourselves. My brother John will attest to this now that the dust has settled. He did not get what he wanted. He got exactly what he needed. Almost anyone looking at it from the outside, his friends, his parents, read here the cultural norm; would have been judging the hell out of him, because his lover wasn’t a good pick at all. It was only John, blinded by love, who could not see the train coming down the tracks.
The culture, or public school, or whatever way you wish to think of it, teaches everyone to play it safe. They say to avoid “toxic” people, to avoid problems, to avoid hardship, and all that jazz. This is literally a domestication tactic. It’s a way of keeping everyone sick and weak. They are all about performance. A guy going through the experience of falling in love, and breaking his heart doesn’t exactly perform well at work. Most who have been abused as badly as John can’t even hardly keep a job. It’s actually anti productive in their eyes to deal with one’s trauma. John was supposed to do what everyone else does; stuff it down, and go to work like “man”. Fuck that, and fuck them.
I knew for a fact when I told John to go fall in love that he was in for an absolute train wreck. The issue is obvious when it’s said straight. If a fella has been horribly abused in life the first time he falls in love, well, that person is going to be a real fucking piece of work too. Only abused people get with abused people. This is exactly how it went for John. Because of the nature of his abuse, his unconcious picked for him a real deal psychopath. That is exactly how it was for him as a child. I will discuss this business of falling in love in another chapter, but we still need a lot more context before we can understand my way of explaining that.
John is one of the nicest guys ever. In this way, we are somewhat similar in that he was never broken either. He somehow stayed the sweetest guy despite what had happened to him. I’ve never seen him do a mean thing to anyone ever. It’s only ever been his ego that has been a problem. His fake sense of self, is just as grandiose as any raging narcissist, he just lacks all the rage. We all have this problem of ego, especially in our twenties. Yet, even being this rather harmless guy, here he ended up with this straight up psycho. I’m wanting to say that just like his parents, and his older sister, who was one of his primary abusers, his first love too, was trying to ruin him.
I call this standing in the fire. There’s never a single second it isn’t burning. It only ever hurts. Which is why almost everyone avoids falling in love. This time around the spiral of life John was no longer a child. This time John gets to see it all for what it really is. I simply stand by, giving him the words he needs to put it all in a proper context as he goes. He’s not the smartest guy so it takes a while.
He stayed up under this person for years. Most of his relationship with her I was not involved at all. I only came back into the scene towards the end. It’s pretty common when a fella finds a girl he disappears. John was lost at sea. I never actually left his side, but was always patiently waiting. I do not save people from their suffering. It was something he had to go through. I couldn’t save him from it. He needed this experience to open his feels. The things this person was doing to him, was the same shit that was happening to him as a child. When he’d get low, he’d come around again, then he’d go suffer some more.
This part is critical. With me in his ear, he used these experiences to gain access to his feelings. He was alone, but not. It’s a weird thing in a way. I think it’s just the comfort maybe, that there’s someone out there who understands. We talked about this many times before he even fell in love. Being abused doesn’t really have anything to do with age. In our monkey suits, abuse feels the same no matter how old we are, so these experiences provided him a chance to feel what it would have felt like as a child, to be abused in such a way. One of the problems with being abused our entire childhood is that it’s normalized. So for many years John couldn’t even see that he was in fact being played by a psychopath. To him that is just how it is. Slowly it became more and more clear, and it allowed him to release, as he experienced more abuse, his feelings that he wasn’t allowed to feel as a child. Real time. It’s a dangerous undertaking, just like his childhood was. Very dangerous.
My boy made it! John eventually manned up, and took his stand. We all have to do this Brother. We all have to take a stand, for ourselves, and say, NO MORE! We can’t do this as a child, so we have to learn to do it once we are grown. By opening to his feelings, he put a stop to his own abuse. Hallelujah Amen! He’s still riding high from it, and many months have gone by since he chose himself, over everyone else. Selfish to the bone. That is where self love begins. He’s riding high, so we know he’s got another fall coming his way. As always I’m patiently waiting.
One of the things this psychopath did was cause problems with John’s parents such that they quit talking for many years. At some point in their relationship they ended up living with his parents, and when she tried her bullshit on them they kicked them both out. The psychopaths were having it out with each other. I got a good laugh out of that part. I could clearly see these idiots screaming and shouting at each other about which one was the better monkey. What a shitshow.
It’s kind of difficult to relay the myth of his journey without that turning into a book of its own, but essentially John ended up all alone in the world. No parents, no friends, nothing. He had no saviors. No easy outs. This is a male initiation. I was purposefully not intervening in his affairs. I wasn’t going to save him either. This psychopath had him locked down completely, which is very typical behavior for such people. It’s exactly what happened to him as a child. It was exactly what had happened to me.
This typical psychopath behavior to render their victim all alone is a must or they cannot maintain the situation. They will present themselves as the victim to all outsiders, to maintain control of the situation. She bad mouthed John to anyone who would listen. My boy believed this shit too. It wasn’t exactly that she was wrong, but that she just completely ignored all of her own bullshit. Her story was/is that it was only ever John who screwed things up. This particular psychopath had one of the sweetest guys I know completely locked down. Isolated. He isn’t like me, because I’d have already gone to jail if someone was doing those things to me. I would never have let someone do to me what he was allowing. John needed this though. He needed this experience so he could see who he really is. This crap happening to him is exactly what his parents did. Exactly what his sister did. I could not save him from this experience, even though I had the means to do so. My job in this was to be there when he took the appropriate actions.
Well, something happened to his father during this time of separation. We think it was a near death experience. So when John took his kids, and left this psychopath, his father came back on the scene, and helped him out. What a moment in my Brother’s life when his father showed up, and apologized to him. That is a crowning moment in a fellas life. Life changing. He will never forget it.
Now, neither of us would say that this doesn’t mean this guy still isn’t an idiot. That’s one of John’s father’s favorite words so you know; idiot. It’s the most appropriate label we could possibly give this guy. He is most definitely still a total and complete idiot, but the apology sets the stage for forward progress. The apology makes it such that he’s just less enough of an idiot to be tolerated. Just enough, so that they could continue to have a relationship. This being the case, and John having two of their grandbabies, they brought John back home, to help him recover from his experience at the hands of another psychopath.
I didn’t think this was a good move for John. He’s now once again, in a small town just absolutely surrounded on all sides by the dumbest monkeys imaginable. Ultimately this predicament of Johns was their doing. Ultimately it is their fault my Brother was ever even in that situation at all. It’s important to realize that had they stepped in to help him before he took his stand; it would not have actually helped John. He absolutely had to take that stand all on his own. His unconscious is organizing everything, the same as you or me.
I’m really simplifying all of this just to get to our last conversation. I could tell so many crazy stories about these people.
It’s really important to see what happened. This experience at the hands of a psychopath, which he needed to open his feelings. A real life living experience. Most everyone avoids this. This brought him to an extremely low point, one of which he couldn’t face as a small child. This person, whom he loved so much; did not ever actually love him. We can’t bear this feeling as children without death coming for us. It was almost literally his childhood all over again. John could just have easily have died. Maybe not physically, but he could have lost the battle, and just been lost forever to the psychopaths, being one himself. He could have capitulated the wrong way. If you’ve not figured it out yet; a psychopath is one who does not take responsibility for the harm they do.
If he would have failed to take his stand, if he would have failed here, he would have needed another psychopath or two or three, but my boy figured it out the first time around. I’m not saying he isn’t due for another abusive relationship or two, but that he simply passed his first initiation. Each relationship, here after, will get successively less abusive. If he had not taken this stand his next relationship would have been even worse. Lessons are repeated until learned. Shit will just pile up until one either drowns it or learns to swim.
What a champ though. He took a stand first time in. A lot of guys don’t manage that. He learned to stand in his own fire. He moved into an apartment and cried for a couple of weeks. Then Bam! His parents showed up, and John is having the easiest year of his entire life. He’s been baffled by how easily everything has fallen into place for him. He is getting some much deserved, and needed healing. He is getting this because he successfully navigated this initiation into manhood. Everything fell into place for him. Once he made the appropriate inner change the outer just fell into place harmoniously.
John is now completely taken care of by the One. He’s in for a ride though let me tell you. His ego is building him up for another fall. That’s life; still got to live life. It ain’t even close to over John.
This last weekend he called me up. Ended up being a three hour conversation, which is not unusual. We go around and around in a conversation much like I do here. A proper perspective is more work than people like to realize. It’s definitely way more than anyone wants it to be. I’m always amazed about how much I have to keep saying the same things over and over to people. Sometimes it’s years before a person acknowledges they finally understand what I’ve been saying. That public educated domestication tricks everyone into thinking life should be easy, and that if it isn’t, something is wrong. I’m telling you, if life seems easy, something is very wrong. Be afraid. It gets everyone believing if they just do some one thing, or other, all will be well. That is just not how it goes at all. Domesticated animals need a fence for a reason, and it isn’t because they have been prepared for life. They were bred purposefully to need that fence.
No one can claim to be a man, who needs a fence for his own safety. Triggered someone right there I’m sure.
John still has a lot of work to do before we could say he has fully integrated his feelings. He has only just begun to work on his grandiose narcissism. He’s thinking he’s got shit figured out now. That’s what he’s got going on with this ego of his. He has only crossed the first major obstacle, his first psychopath female. He’s back in his parents house, with his two babies. That’s hardly the manly thing to do. He has a baby girl and a boy. He’s nowhere near being able to take care of himself, and his family.
As I’ve said, one of John’s major sources of abuse as a child was his older sister. So here, we see the unconscious doing that thing, where it has synchronized a situation that repeats his childhood right in front of him, so that he can further feel his feelings. He is getting to witness not only his parents deal with his own children, but he gets to see how an older sibling, when not given the appropriate love needed, just really kind of hates the younger sibling for coming along and making that already shit situation even worse. Their mother was never going to be capable of giving them the love they needed.
He has made the declaration that he wants to heal, and so his unconscious is bringing about every experience he needs to make that happen for himself. Most people avoid these situations. I’ve made this clear. I think this is terrible to do. We need these situations. Here John is getting to witness first hand what a little baby boy actually feels like at the hands of this idiot dad of his, and also a vengeful older sister. He gets to see it, and this is a perfect opportunity to feel his own feelings about it. He not only gets to take a stand for his child, but also, most importantly, for his own self.
Are these not the same thing? A stand not only for his own son, but for himself. That is the same exact thing! He is no good to his son if he does not get in touch with his own feelings. He knows this, and that is his primary motivation. What a beautiful blessing in life, this opportunity my Brother has to set his life right. Not everyone gets this chance to right wrongs. He will openly tell you, that without having had these children; he would never have gotten off his ass and taken on the challenge of life! Their mother though, is another story.
Can you see the paradox? In order for this guy to get off his ass, he had to bring two more monkeys into the world, who at the end of the day, are just two more neglected monkeys. He’s just perpetuating the shitshow. It doesn’t go well for John when he tries to talk to me like he knows and I do not.
In this situation it is his daughter whom I feel is the most neglected. I watched her learn to not even like her own mother, as she watched her father be abused by her. Neither of these children had a choice in who their mother was. This poor child has a long road ahead of her.
Like I’ve said, John’s father is still a huge idiot, but he has conceded just enough that it’s tolerable, and now John is getting to see first hand how his parents handle little babies. John, like most, doesn’t even remember being a baby. Unlike his father though, he is actually attempting to learn to love his babies, and is not approving of his parents’ tactics.
Now he’s stuck in this new situation, and must swim his way through it as well. The spiral of life is never ending. We could say, in a way, John is now parenting his parents. This is what a lot of our conversation was about; seeing these people for who they really are, and judging them by how they treat little babies. As children we have no context for who our parents really are, but as an adult we most certainly can achieve some discernment.
What a gift my Brother has received from his unconscious! My heart just sings for this guy every day! I know he will make it! Keep in mind, I don’t even come close to telling John about the truth of his life. He’ll read this. I’m not even attempting to spell it out. He’s got to figure that out for himself. He only gets what he puts in from me. That ain’t much. He and I are not cut from the same cloth as they say. He can’t stand in the same flame that I stand in. He ain’t got enough piss and vinegar.
I started crying some when we were talking about his father, and how fucking stupid he is because of how he treated John, and these little children. This shit never sits well with me. This conversation was about John though, so I had to move along with his flow. It’s not good to make it about me when giving a proper context. I keep my own shit in a proper context. I smash my own ego.
I am however, quite selfish. I always make sure I get mines. One of my tasks in this is to also gain my own feelings. I’m of no use to John if I am not having feelings about this. He is counting on me to be real. For good or bad, it’s mine to be real. I’m no good to anyone if I myself do not have access to my own feelings. One of my main functions is modeling for his male feelings. I have access to my feelings more so than he does, so when I’m talking to him about his stuff I model for him; this is how one has their feelings about this. It’s the mirroring he should have received as a child. It’s the mirroring his own father is not capable of. It has been left to me. My primary function is to be for others what I had always wished for myself. We all need someone in our lives who can actually feel without judging whatever feeling it happens to be. I’m the one that validates his negative feelings that everyone else judges and rejects.
Usually the people who come my way can’t feel their rage. John was no exception. Rage is my speciality. It’s generally rage that people can’t feel, because doing so as a child would have gotten them even more abused. So usually when they are talking about their stuffs, I will feel the rage for them. I will model it. This time though, it wasn’t rage. This time it was something different. In my life it’s moving past the rage now.
We can’t rage at the guy who has apologized, and is, even though still an idiot, at least attempting to right his wrong. We can’t rage at this guy anymore. Rage is the expression of powerlessness. Here, John is no longer powerless, and so rage is no longer the appropriate feeling. In this situation the feelings get really complex. Rage is easy. It’s pure, and not ever convoluted.
Love though, is much different. Love and hate are of the same coin, and in John’s life that coin is spinning. Not only that, there are all manner of levels of love, and hate. He isn’t getting to simply look at one side or the other; He loves, and hates his parents. It’s complex. He’s standing in the fire again. Only he can bring these two seeming opposites together. There’s no rules, or instructions for this. There’s no correct way. We end the conversation with a proper context. He’s learning to be a man, if only a little better one than his idiot father.
We get off the phone, some hours go by, and I realize I’m not feeling good at all. My interior has turned rather dark. Because I’m so sensitive, it can be rather difficult sorting everything out, and so generally I just wait to see how things play out. Is me? Him? Someone else? Is it my lover? I notice in myself I am wanting to mindalter, then I know it’s me. I’m wanting to check out. It’s building too. I’m thinking, what is going on? What is happening inside me? What is my psyche wanting to avoid? What is hurting so badly that I’d rather just go get high?
Because of our abuse, and because of how the psyche works, those of us who have been thoroughly abused primarily use drugs to avoid our feelings, but anything will do. A lover, work, TV, games, etc. Mind altering drugs though is the quickest fix, and is often highest on the list. Cannabis being one of these. It works really great for not feeling the feels. Cannabis is a wonder drug in this regard. Mainly because it doesn’t harm a person as much as most other drugs do. We could say cannabis is the safest way to avoid our feelings.
We can smoke all day every day, and it does not really destroy our lives like alcohol, heroin, or meth. A person can just get high, and everything magically becomes way more tolerable. It’s sheer avoidance, and I felt myself wanting to go and find some, but I can’t do this. I no longer avoid my feelings. I will not avoid my feelings. So I just have to suffer until it shows its ugly head.
Before the end of the day I figured out what had happened. When I was talking to John about his idiot father a truth about my own life surfaced. I’m not saying this lightly that this guy, John’s dad, is a total piece of shit. If I told you all the different things this guy had done to John as a child, and how his mother just stood by actively condoning it, you, like me, would just be at a loss for how anyone could do that to their own child. To any child. It is baffling. It’s other level shit these people did. John was only ever told as a child what an idiot he was. Calling his dad an idiot is most appropriate.
Consider that this guy, and his wife, were both school teachers. Go to church every Sunday types. They still talk this bullshit about how they know god because they’ve studied the bible. Holy fuck! Both public educated, college degrees, all that bullshit. Typical psychopathic narcissists in that they had all their shit together on the surface. Anyone from the outside would have thought these people had their shit together. Completey normalized child abuse. Two church going, school teaching parents, the picturesque of perfect parents. All a lie. John couldn’t even escape his parents at school. This poor guy, I’m telling you John was completely abused, physically, emotionally, in almost every way; my boy got the works. Just completely bullied his entire childhood. It is amazing this kid never killed himself. A miracle really.
I said that to him once when he was falling prey to that psychopath of a female he fell in love with. One of her ways of keeping him on lock down was to constantly lock herself in the bathroom and threaten to kill herself. John stood no chance at all against such a tactic. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his love killed herself on his watch. John being this super sweet guy that he is, was completely trapped in this. She was making him feel like it was his responsibility. Real psychopath.
We were on the phone after one of these episodes. I said, John, you’ve got to use this situation to feel your feelings. I said, “John, why aren’t you the one in the bathroom trying to kill yourself? Brother, you’ve got to feel your feelings.” I knew this female was never going to actually kill herself. She was just completely manipulating my Brother. I’ve dealt with this type of female most of my life. I was raised by one. I fell in love with one myself once. He couldn’t feel it yet. You see, his real feelings were something like, “get the fuck away from this psycho.” thus the expression, why aren’t you the one in the bathroom trying to kill yourself?
Life is tragic; that’s a real fact.
There I was that morning realizing that even this piece of shit dad was helping his kid. I’m over here, and never not one single time in my life has my father ever helped me. Not once. What words are there for that? Even John’s dad was willing to help him out. This feeling inside that my own father has never helped me at all. I don’t know any words for it. I am just practicing what I preach. I just cry. I don’t need any words to feel this feeling. There are no words. It’s one of the darkest feelings that a monkey can have.
No story I conjure in my head is going to make it any different than it is. Many people use stories like drugs, to avoid the reality of their situation. They use words to avoid feeling their feelings, like making excuses for this guy, or rationalizing it. None of this works. It’s just a real pure fact of my life. I’m just some guy whose own father doesn’t even care about him. He never has. I was only ever an obligation. I was only ever something he had to deal with. I was never not an inconvenience. My being born ruined his life in his eyes. Instead of taking responsibility he simply blamed me.
It got dark for many days after that conversation that morning. It is what it is.
My point in this, is that I am doing the exact thing I tell my Brothers to do. I use real life living experiences in order to gain access to the feelings I repressed when I was younger. It took witnessing it happening for someone else, to engage my own feelings, about my own situation in life. It was only in watching it happen for one of my Brothers that I was able to feel this feeling that really no one ever wants to feel. The first hand experience of watching this piece of shit help his kid, was right in my face, full effect. Just a pure fact.
I’m practically maimed right now. Once again potentially homeless. If anything goes wrong at all right now in my life I’m going to end up homeless again. My father is not ever going to help me out. This fucking piece of shit owns a car dealership of all things. This guy lives fat. This hurts more than any words I could think to say about it. So I just hurt. Honestly, I’m just waiting for him to die, so I can be relieved of this pain. He’s never even remotely taken responsibility. He’ll probably wait till he’s on his deathbed, and then it’s still only for him. I help out people who aren’t even my own kids, more than this guy has ever helped his own kids. He is the same to my biological brother. It isn’t just me.
Tomorrow I’ll wake up and it will be very dark in my mind. I’ll not be trusting anyone. I know no one loves me. There never seems to be an end to the tears. I’ll see clear as day, anyone that ever said they loved me, had some agenda or other for saying such a thing. They only loved what I was doing for them, if even that. Life.
I’m sure you can imagine I’ve edited this several times now. I’ve had to take so much of my rage out of it. I’m doing my best to take the rage out of it. This morning I had a breakthrough in my breath work. I breathed my way into a deep dark place. I didn’t know why I was crying yet, but it was coming. You see, once I healed my mother’s complex all these young males started showing up. None of them have a father either, or if they do he’s such an idiot like mine it’s the same as not having one.
I realized that I’ve been breaking my own heart again. It’s happening to me. Everything went even darker for me after I talked to yet another Brother of mine, in this same week. They are everywhere. It puts me in my darkest feelings when I help out a younger male because no one ever did it for me. It rubs it in my face. I see these guys getting help, and support. Something I’ve never had. I finally get to feel that for myself. I have to forgive myself for all this harm that I’ve done to me. I’ve always stayed so fucked up I could never have my feelings, because this feels so terrible. I would surely have died if I would have had to feel it when I was younger. Why can’t I just die already?
I just want you to know my darkness isn’t because of you, but it is because of you. It’s a gift. This broken heart. Alchemy. Turning shit into gold.
I just needed to be a monkey and tell someone who would understand. Some day, someone will. Today will be total dogshit around here. Like a wounded dog in the corner, I pity the fool who crosses me today. I keep drawing the King cards though, so I’m just holding on tight. Pacing in my fancy cell. Same now as then. Waiting to be free of this.
Same week folks. Same fucking week. Heavy is the crown.
I called one of my Brothers up because I got some good news for him. Ends up being a four hour conversation. I’ve known this guy for over ten years now. We’ve lived together even. Props to him because in all this time it’s the longest ever he’s been able to real talk about his own situation in life. My brother is a true avoider of feelings. A master at it, and I can’t say I blame him. I don’t; not even a little. Most do. Whom am I to judge as I just wait around sitting in my own shit?
Since I love power, and I love to think of most everything in terms of power, I’m using that term here. Let’s say I just approach a random person, or I meet someone new who has not really done any inner work at all. Typically such a person will only have about three to five minutes of real talk in them before they have to bail. Such a person can’t swim in the deep end. It’s pretty easy for me to have a person squirming like a worm in the sunshine trying to get out of it. Sometimes I do it to people on purpose to make them go away. I can real talk almost endlessly; I have tons of power. Most cannot stand in the fire at all.
I don’t mind alter at all anymore. My brother though, has always been one of these people who can’t bear the flame. If it gets real, about his life, he’s only got a little bit in him at any given time before he’s got to escape. I can’t push him much or he’ll hit the bottle too hard, and we don’t want that. This is common, and to be expected. What makes this Brother different from others is that he has no children. This frees him up to harm himself all he wishes, and none of us can say anything about it. Now if he had children, it’d go very differently around me than it does.
I often wait around for years on a Brother to accumulate enough personal power to attend to the real issue at hand. All the mind altering, and avoidance of feelings sucks the power right out of us. Said this way; it is our true feelings from which our power comes. We lose our real power when we avoid our feelings. Said this way; it has been my never allowing anyone to talk me out of my rage, my true feelings, that I have so much personal power as I do. As a male, our true power is derived from our feelings.
My Brother and I love to talk shit about the system, and how fucking stupid these people are just destroying the planet for a pay check. We know they don’t give a damn about us. He has an intellect as any Aquarian does. Plenty of shenanigans going on to talk shit about too. The abuse always eventually comes up because that is what they are doing to us. No one gets to talk to me, and we don’t discuss reality.
He surprised me this time around. After all these years, he knows I will understand. He will tell you, he has never talked to anyone about certain things, except me. I’m not even giving this guy a fake name here. He’s just Brother. It’s true I will most definitely push the issue about dealing with reality, and our abuse, but I only ever take it so far. I never push for the intimate details. I leave that for the other person. My ability to see into a person’s soul makes it such I don’t need them to say anything about it. It’s for them to say. I already know.
It releases them to say the words on their own without any push from me. I can’t imagine any male reading this and not understanding what I am about to say: No male ever wants to talk about being raped as a child at the hand of another male. It’s the most humiliating thing that can happen. No male wants to feel about that. Not a single one I’ve ever known wants to even admit it has happened to them. The feelings we have about this are devastating. It literally ruins our lives. FUCKING GODDAMNIT. It has happened to most of us, and has been going on in this rape culture for thousands of years. I simply wait around until they’ve got enough power to deal with it. I can only do so much for them. I’ve got to feel all this too.
My Brother knows I will understand. He knows I won’t judge him even for a millisecond. He really surprised me this time. One of the happiest moments of his life has happened. The male who raped him as a child died a horrible painful death at the hands of some cancer or other. According to him this person died a slow horrible death. OH MY GOD! What a glorious moment for my Brother.
What a glorious moment for all of us! May we all be so lucky as this! His only regret is that he couldn’t be standing over this mother fucker as he died his miserable death. Pity that too. I most definitely would have wished that for him. We all know though, it is us, the victims of these psychopaths, who would go to prison for seeking our justice. This puts us in a terrible place in regards to our feelings. A most terrible place.
I’m not going to speak anymore about this from my Brother’s point of view. I’ve expressed his view clearly. My point was that in the same week that my feelings were engaged about my own father, my Brother tells me about this wonderful day of his. I’ll speak now from my own experience, because I felt the same exact way when my first step father died.
Such a glorious day. Such a sweet release. So long as that guy was alive, there was no rest for me. Never not a second of my life, were my feelings not telling me to go kill this person. Every day that mother fucker was alive, I was trapped in this terrible murderous place. Only his death could release me from that torment. Just like my Brother, when this evil fuck died, all my terribleness that was derived from him just went away.
Finally, at long last, some semblance of peace was given to me. I smiled all day the day I heard about it. I could finally rest. No one who is true to themselves can rest knowing the one who raped them is still walking the earth. No one. Not if they are being real. There is no rest ever. So when that moment comes it is one of the greatest moments of our lives.
The problem for me is that my actual parents are still breathing. They are the ones who were responsible for my safety. So I am over here still patiently waiting for my parents to fall off, so that I can rest. Why can’t these stupid moneys just die already? I will cry a lot today. Tomorrow. The next day. I don’t see any end to it. I will not use any drugs to avoid it. I will not tell myself any stories to avoid it. I will only just sit in the fire, and wait my turn.
We call this being real.
I told my Brother, who is confused about how to feel about it all, that I tell everyone this. I always use the female who brought me into the world as an example. We can easily look at her, and see what she did, and what she allowed to happen. It factually makes her a real piece of shit. No arguments there from anyone who actually loves me. That’s me actually. I’m the only one that loves me. No arguments here.
This is critical to see clearly; if we were to go ask her, if she loved me, she would say that she did. That’s what we call a psychopath. She would literally tell us that she loved me, yet she literally watched me be violently abused. She watched it happen. I’m yet to talk about my own abuse in any kind of depth. We need a lot of context before I do that. That’s all we are doing; building context.
The point here, is that we can look at her, and understand why she is the piece of shit that she is. She too was raped as a child, abused, all that jazz. Same culture as the rest of us. She got the biz same as us. Raping tyrants farming plebs. It’s all just a fractal. From the outside looking in, we can understand why she did what she did. This is fine. It’s understandable.
But she did it to me. It’s on me to hold her accountable. Others are not obligated to hold her accountable to the same degree as I am. They wouldn’t even if they were obligated. So long as she refuses to take responsibility; she gets nothing but the biz. I’ve not talked to her in over ten years now. She has to live every day with the fact that her oldest son will not even talk to her. Fuck her. This monkey does not have Stockholm Syndrome.
I have helped out many females in my life who were in my mothers position. Females who did, or were doing exactly as my mother did to their own children. I did not hold them accountable like I do my own mother. I gave them words to help them end their own suffering, but these females were also attempting to take responsibility. They weren’t doing it to me. But you see, if one of their children came to me about it, then that child would get a very different approach from me than their mother would. I would be telling the child to hold her accountable to the fullest if she refuses to take responsibility. It’s the only way one can be true to their own self.
I use different tactics in each situation. Everyone is different. I tell him; it’s up to you Brother, same as me, which tactics, in which situation. All I know is, if we are to be true to ourselves, to our feelings, we do not just let these people who abused us off the hook until full accountability has been taken. It’s that simple. No cute stories to make it better. No reasoning, no rationalizations. No ideals. Just facts.
Let’s not mix words Brother. It is what it is. Fuck these people who have abused us and refuse to take accountability. We should help others out, no doubt, so that they can be better monkeys, but if they wrong us, specifically; they get the biz. We can’t help someone who won’t take responsibility. Never feel bad for wanting to destroy someone who destroyed you Brother. That is the perfectly monkey thing to do. We are primates. Go try raping a monkey in the wild, and let me know how that goes. Don’t go and actually do it, but always have the feelings, because without our feelings we are lost. It’s the most natural feeling in the world to want to get rid of someone who raped us, most especially if they never take responsibility. It will only ever be rage.
A monkey trapped in rage, even if entirely unconscious of his rage, always self harms.
No matter which course of action we take; it will never feel good. That’s the real crux of it. It’s the wanting something that will never feel good, to feel good, that just adds suffering to the suffering. No words, no reasoning, no rationalization, no stories, no nothing is ever going to make it different than it is. It is what it is.
Forgiveness only applies to someone who apologizes, and takes responsibility. Otherwise they are still an abuser. Still a rapist. Still a predator. Forgiving such people only condones it. Some people have tried to tell me that we should forgive for our own sake, but if they have not taken responsibility: That’s Stockholm Syndrome. It’s fake compassion. It’s unnatural. If we are going to truly be honest, forgiving someone who is still an active abuser only ever harms us all. Look around. Shitshow is raging because no one is holding these people accountable. Instead they are applying the domestication tactics they were taught during their indoctrination. Real talk.
The wolf was domesticated so that it would be safe to keep on a leash. So that it wouldn’t bite its domesticator. It was never in the best interest of the wolf to be domesticated. That was only ever in the best interest of the one profiting from the labor of the dog. The pleb farmers are very good at what they do. If most everyone is abused, and indoctrinated, no one is ever able to achieve accountability. Not my problem however uncomfortable that may make one feel. It’s really happening. Fuck them.
So, someone reading this, might be asking, well then, what about John’s babies momma, as they say around here. I’ll name her Sally. What about Sally? Well, Sally refused to take responsibility for the fact that she was abused, and it made her into what she is. She refused the words. She refused books. She refused all the facts. She refused to even talk about it a little.
She did go to a therapist, but the second she let it out that she wanted to kill herself, that therapist’s job, career, etc. all went on the line. No therapist would risk their career telling such a person the real truth, if they even knew it to tell it. No therapist is going to give such a person the truth, because they are like preacher men. Truth doesn’t fill the pews. They can’t risk it that she might actually make good on it. In these situations a therapist won’t try to heal a person at all, but will only protect their own job.
She didn’t even take responsibility for her own children’s sake. Not even for her own kids. John has their kids with him. I’ll be the first to admit that Sally has a real problem on her hands. I’m fully aware of just how badly she was abused. I know about her parents. I know about her childhood. I know exactly why she is the way she is, but none of that matters if she can’t take responsibility. There’s nothing for such a person, but to lose everything. Same as John, or me, or you.
Life is not fair. Life is fucking savage. Brutal. Absolutely ruthless. It’s all these people pretending it should be otherwise perpetuating this system of abuse. Civilization isn’t saving anyone from life. All it has done is made primates soft, and domesticated; easy prey for raping tyrants. It was never in our best interest to be domesticated. It was only ever in the best interest of those who profit from our being domesticated, and as was explained in the beginning of this; we will never be our best by being held down: That is fucking stupid.
I started this by quoting my stand in father, and I’ll end it with his words from the same paragraph in the same essay. “Whosoever would be a man, must be a nonconformist.” No man agrees to being fucking domesticated.
