Utterly Duped

Duped1

I never printed my book.

I completed it over 10 years ago but never printed it.  I don’t even want to reread it.

I cannot believe how much time I wasted writing that book.

Here’s a brief explanation:

After I gave my life to Jesus and became a born-again Christian, I started writing a daily spiritual journal.  I was convinced that God was in my life and that he loved me.  I was extremely motivated.

I wanted to write about how wonderful God was, and how he was blessing me.  But to my surprise, my life as a Christian unfolded as a perpetual series of curses.  It seemed that nothing was going right.  Every time I tried to love someone it would turn against me and every time I tried to do God’s will, it would backfire.

The words written in the bible always turned out to be deceiving and false.  There was either something wrong with my life or there was something wrong with the book.  At first I thought it was me, of course, because I was not allowed to question “God’s Word.”

It was impossible to deny my own life, so the only thing left to question was my religion.

I was keeping a spiritual journal, hoping that one day this journal would be the proof of how God blesses one person’s life.  But my journal turned out to be some kind of horror story about a guy who is in a relationship with a god who does not keep his word!

My diary was supposed to be a proof of God’s love, but after 18 years of reporting all the ups and downs of our relationship, this journal turned out to be documented evidence that the god I was serving was a genuine asshole.

I was not pleased.

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Drinking to Death

Revellers salute with beer during Oktoberfest in Munich

Desperation lingers
Between disengaged lovers
Who vowed to stay together
Forever…

Should we talk about it?
Or why not simply split?

I’m so tired
And uninspired

It hurts too much
To be out of touch

Love is frustrated
We’re devastated

Why delve in pain?
It won’t get better

Why strain the brain?
Will it bring closure?

We know what does
Let’s get a buzz

Suffering sucks
Forget Starbucks

Let’s drink lots of beer
Pain will disappear

It’s not very healthy
But good enough for me

Cause you know darling
I don’t mind dying

The Liar

He lies to his wife, lies to his children, lies to his followers, lies to his friends.  No, sorry.  Not to his friends because he doesn’t have any.  The liar doesn’t have friends, he has… figurines, or pawns, or deluded admirers.

That’s right.  And he doesn’t live, he subsists within his own exquisitely well decorated prison.  He walks around, alone among others, smiling and waving, buying and selling.  He drugs his one-track mind to sleep, drugs his trimmed body to work, drugs his flaccid organ to night clubs, and the next day goes to church.  He has sex with himself while screwing the other.

The liar is popular, rich, famous and funny.  He loves his life and is afraid to die.  He can’t stand sickness, can’t tolerate unhappiness, can’t understand meditation.  He watches tv, follows the news and dresses fashionably.

The liar cheats his partner, cheats his employer and cheats himself.  He’s an expert with words, he knows exactly what to say and when to say it.  He knows when to play the hero and when to play the victim.  The liar is a player.

He succeeds in everything he does, he hardly ever gets criticised because he’s wise, slick and sly, politically correct, healthy and he supports the army.  He suffers from headaches but doesn’t tell anyone.  He goes to the dentist regularly and makes sure his teeth are white.

The liar doesn’t last forever

Because he can’t enter eternity

The liar might be your neighbour

He might be you or he might be me

What a disgusting blogpost

I feel like regurgitating my dinner

Please excuse me

Looks Good

Yuck

“Good morning, good afternoon, good evening.  How are you?  Good!  That’s good to hear.  You look good.  Did you have a good time?  It’s a good day isn’t it?  Well it was good to see you.  Goodbye!”

Why does everything have to be good all the time?  How boring.  It makes me sick.  It’s so one-sided and unbalanced.

We hide everything that doesn’t look good and pretend it doesn’t exist:  our weaknesses, our garbage and our shit.  And then we say:  All is good.  But is it?

Nothing in this world is THAT good.  Get over it, people.

“Bad morning!  How are you?  Bad, and you?  Oh, just awful.  You look bad by the way.  Well, fuck you!  I thought the same thing when I saw you.  It’s a bad day isn’t it?  Oh, absolutely!  How are the kids?  Terrible!  That’s too bad.  Oh well, it was depressing to see you!  Badbye!”

The Blind Man

Blind

This is what she wrote to me last week:

“After everything we went through, I still love you, and I still have admiration for you in all sorts of ways.  Too bad that you can’t see it and that you don’t feel for me what I feel for you.”

It is true that I can’t see it.  How can a man see what is in the heart of a woman?  Love and admiration cannot be seen.  I am blind when it comes to these kinds of things.  And how can I be sure that what she says is true?  She has lied to me so many times before.

I read her words but I don’t believe them.  If she really has love and admiration for me, it would show, wouldn’t it?  But then, not necessarily.  A woman can love and admire a man without showing it.

Should I be able to see it in her eyes?  I have looked into her eyes a thousand times, and I’m afraid to say that I can’t see anything.  But I have noticed something interesting though.  My feelings are based on my beliefs, not on anything visual.

As long as I believed that she loved and admired me, I felt it.  As soon as I stopped believing it, I stopped feeling it.

Belief is so powerful!

The Deceiver

Money, it’s you!

Yesss, god-man.  So nice to see you again.

Oh, go away.

Let me look at you…

Leave me alone.

You don’t want me to look at you?
Then, you look at me!

No, sir!  I know what you’re trying to do.

You do?…  I mean…
Don’t you trust me?

No.

Then there’s nothing I can do to help.

You want to help me?

Certainly!
I can see to it that you never have to leave this jungle.

How could you do that?

Oh, I have my own subtle little ways.
But first, you must trust me.

I don’t trust anyone anymore.

I don’t blame you.
But I’m not like those so-called friends of yours.
You can believe in me…

Trust in me
Just in me
Shut your eyes
Trust in me

You can sleep
Safe and sound
Knowing I
Am around

Slip into silent slumber
Sail on a silver mist
Slowly and surely your senses
Will cease to resist

money

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Text inspired by:
“Trust in Me” from the Disney movie The Jungle Book

I Can’t Help You

trust14

Here is another wonderful “talking to myself” session.  This one will be recorded publicly though.  Perhaps to shame myself or to entertain bored readers.

I’m tired of thinking of her.  It’s a waste of time.  If I could change the way I think of her, that would be great.  I should hypnotize myself to make me love her.  That might work.

Love her?  No thank you.  “Like her” maybe.  No, not even.  Accept her.  Yes, I could start there.  Accept her current existence in my life.  Can I do that?

Well I think I have accepted her already.  I let her be, don’t I?  I let her affect me too.  Maybe this is what I should be working on.  I should not let her affect me.  Or, I have a better idea.  Why not let her affect me and then transform the effect into something good!

Let’s try it.  She said this yesterday, after I said to her that she already has everything:  “No, I don’t have a husband who loves me.”  I did not reply because I knew what it would trigger.  So I just kept silent.  I absorbed it.

Now the phrase is coming back to me and Oh!  I could smash…  never mind.  There is no use smashing things.  She sincerely wishes that I would love her.  Why should I let it upset me?

I cannot love her simply because I can’t trust her.  And that’s ok, I don’t have to trust the people I don’t trust.  There is a reason why I don’t trust her.  She is not trustworthy.  To me anyway.

I trusted her at the beginning and she took advantage of it.  She profited.  It was her choice or perhaps not.  Maybe she had been programmed by her family.  Or she programmed herself in order to survive within her family.

Whatever it is, the issue is hers, not mine.  And she refuses to look within herself.  That’s why she suffers from anxiety.  I can’t help her.  Would my hugs help her?  Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  I don’t know.  And you know what?  I don’t care whether I can help her or not.  I’m trying to save myself here.  I have spent enough energy for her already.  The little I have left I will keep.

Sorry dear.  I know you’re drowning but I can’t help you.

Blood Money

blood-money

Why did they make society so complicated?

Ah! for money.

I see…

Money gives them the illusion of power.  It makes them believe that they control everything.  They see only superficially, and they think:

“The innocent belong to us.
We own them all.
We can make them do whatever we want.
We can purchase their land and their activity.
We can even buy their fidelity.
We give them a little and make them crave for more.
We make them believe how wonderful life would be if they had more money.
They must want more, that way we can make them do whatever we want.
The innocent will do anything for it,
even things they don’t want to do,
even kill each other.
We need to keep them busy.
We need to keep them worried.
So that they won’t have to time to stop and think.
Their desire for more money must override all other thought.
They will never realize what is happening.
How stupid they are.
We have the power!”

Wake up, brothers and sisters.  They don’t own us.  And we don’t need their blood money.

The Inversion

creator1

There is an inversion that exists that we are not always aware of.  I’m becoming more aware of it and I want to mention it here.  My post entitled Waves touches on this subject a bit.

Basically, the Inversion is this:  What you perceive with your physical eyes appears to be on the outside but is actually inside of you; and what you perceive with your non-physical eyes appears to be on the inside but is actually outside of you.

Does it even make sense?  What do I mean by outside of you and inside of you?

Here is an example:

When you walk out the door you say:  “I’m going outside to explore the world today.”  You expect to find something valuable outside.  On the other hand, when you lock yourself up in your room you say:  “I’m staying inside to do nothing today.”  You expect to find nothing valuable if you do that.  You think that the real important world is outside the door and that everything inside yourself is unreal and unimportant.  It’s actually the other way around.

This is why NASA finds nothing valuable in space (no aliens, no gods, no life) whenever they launch expensive sophisticated equipment loaded with cameras and sensors “out there” to explore the universe.

But when an average person sits quietly in his room with no money and no equipment and explores the “in version”, he finds everything:  aliens, angels, demons, gods, Jesus, Buddha, Atlantis and all the living entities and worlds of the past, present and future.

We live in an inverted reality.  When you realize this, it changes your life and you can actually turn things around for good.

Marriage

thief2

Acute Pain.

Do I want to go there?  No, but I’m going anyway.  Call me sadomasochist.  How can I heal if I refuse to look at the pain?  I choose to look at it today.  I know it’s going to hurt.

It all started the day I found a document.  You had left it on the kitchen table for me to find.  We were married already.  We had promised to be true and honest to each other.  Perhaps this was your attempt at being truthful.

I saw the folded document on the table, picked it up and looked at it.  I started reading and as my eyes moved down across the page, my heart sank.  I could hardly believe it.  My thoughts were transported back in time to the previous months, the previous years.  You had been playing me all this time!

I walked to you and handed you the document.  You were pale and frightened.  I looked you in the eyes and asked you:  “Why did you do it?”  You said you were sorry, tried to explain and started crying.  I just stood there and listened to you.  I don’t know what my exact thoughts were at that moment.  I was confused.

It took me several days to pick up the pieces of my heart from the floor, reassemble them, find my brain and reconnect it, attempt to start thinking straight again and find a solution.  Eventually I did find one.  It cost me a lot, but you were my wife after all and my job was to forgive you and help you, not condemn you.  I was a good Christian boy.  It took three and a half years to repair the damage that you had caused.  I was confident that you had learned something from this experience, that it would never happen again, and that our relationship would be strengthened in the process.

You promised to never do it again, I remember.  But you did it again, the exact same thing at the exact same place.  I was baffled.  I couldn’t believe it.  But I was patient, I sat with you and asked you to explain.  Your eyes became watery and you said it was because of the place:  “When I go there, I don’t know what happens but I lose my mind.”  I understood, and we agreed to never to go to that place again.

I thought the matter was resolved.  But then, you did it again in secret.  We were not at that place and I was not with you and you did it deliberately and tried to hide it, but I found out.  I questioned you and this time you were a bit more defensive and said that you were not perfect, that you could not control yourself, that we needed to put in place some kind of strategy to help you.  So I worked up a plan.  It took me many hours of work.  I showed it to you and you agreed to go with that plan.

I thought the matter was finally settled but as the months and years went by, I noticed that you were not following the plan.  You were twisting it every way you could in order to gain hidden benefits, all the while pretending that the plan was brilliant and working.  It was not working.  You were cheating.  I decided to check everything you had done in the previous two years and realized, to my horror, that you had found a way to fool me using the plan.

At that point I cried.  I realized that this was no weakness of yours, it was intentional manipulation.  You had this secret agenda to trick me since the beginning and your crying and apologizing were part of it.  I was devastated.  I started questioning my own sanity.  I started hating myself for being so naïve and forgiving.  I should have left you the first time, before we had children.  Now I was more stuck than ever.  There was no way you would ever change and there was no way that I could ever trust you again.

There is a name for what you are doing.  I learned it this week.  It’s called Domestic Theft.  My soulmate is a thief and nothing can be proven since we are in a financial partnership called marriage.