The Mystic

Balance3

Today I’m wondering if too much spirituality can cause a balance disorder.

Ok, I hear an imaginary crowd of people yelling a resounding, unanimous answer:  “YES!”

Thank you, imaginary unanimous crowd of answering people.  But what if I told you that you are all a bunch of misled materialistic slaves?

Now they are all silent and staring at me.  One of them steps forward and says politely:  “Maybe we are, but you are the one with the balance disorder.”

Bam!

When I think of a guy who clings to spirituality above everything else, I think of an idiot who is trying to fly with man-made wings.  I think of Wile E. Coyote.  Is this what I have become?  What will happen next?

Never mind.

Maybe I should concentrate on being a man instead of trying to be a bird.  But what about my aspirations?

I’m not very good at being human.  I’ve tried it.  I keep failing.

Where are you, italicized dude?  You’re not answering me today?

– I’m here.

So what do you say, am I too spiritual?

– Maybe you want to be a mystic.

A Mystic:  Someone who practices mysticism.

Mysticism:  Becoming one with God or the Absolute, but may refer to any kind of ecstasy or altered state of consciousness which is given a religious or spiritual meaning.  It may also refer to the attainment of insight in ultimate or hidden truths, and to human transformation supported by various practices or experiences.

Yes, I think I want to be a mystic.  But what about my balance disorder?

– What about it?

If I would stop aspiring to become a great mystic, would I be miraculously cured of my balance disorder?

– I don’t know.  You would have to try it.

Hmm…  I did stop being one with You at one point.  Remember what happened?  I became extremely depressed and ended up in a psychiatric hospital.  So perhaps I was meant to be a mystic.

– Then you must accept the balance disorder.

Thank you.

Identity Crisis

Gud04

Yesterday I was thinking whether or not I should be gay.

– You cannot choose a sexual orientation.

Yes I can.  Assuming that I am equally interested in males and females, I can choose who I want to be intimate with.

I spent most of my life embracing the straight (heterosexual) lifestyle.  Now, after two failed marriages, I find myself at a turning point.  I’m questioning everything and trying to redefine myself.  Who will the new me be?

– Do you want to be gay?

Yesterday I wrote:  “I want a man.”  This sounds pretty gay to me.  It’s not that I don’t like women.  But I had two wives already.  I never had a husband.  I think I would like to try it.  But then, friends and lovers are not things you “try.”  They happen.

– So what are you saying?

I don’t know.  It sounds confusing doesn’t it…

– Why did you start this post in the first place?

Oh yeah!  Yesterday I was wondering if I should be gay, but today I’m asking myself:  Why should my identity be based on a sexual orientation?

– It gives you focus.

True.  But it also puts up barriers.  Besides, I’m not looking for sex, I’m just trying to define my identity.

– What do you mean by “define” my identity?

Synonyms for Define = delineate, delimit, specify, delimitate.

Hmm…  It means to put up certain limits or barriers.  But what if my identity is to have no limits!  Does it mean that I cannot define who I am?

– How did you define yourself in your About page?

I wrote:  “Daemon is a free spirit…”  You see?  This is my most basic, true, profound identity.  I am a free spirit.  I am not even human.  I could be an alien for all I know.

– But what about your incarnation as a human male, are you ignoring it?

In this blog I am, yes.

– Why?

Because I wanted to focus on the spiritual.  Do you have a problem with that?

– I don’t, but you do.

You’re right.  I do.  I’m having an identity crisis.  It’s because of my physical body.  I’m not just a spirit, I’m responsible for the life of a physical human man.  So is it wrong to define myself as a spirit?

– Maybe you need to define the experiences that the spirit wishes to have on earth.

So I could choose to “be gay” in order to delineate my upcoming experiences, is that what you’re saying?

– Yep.

Interesting…  Something to think about…  There are so many possibilities…  I’m not even sure which experiences I wish to have.  Sometimes I feel so fed up with this world, I just want to pack my bags and leave (die).

Double D

perspective1

I’m not happy.

– What is missing for you to be truly happy?

I don’t know.

– Yes you do.  Think.

I have everything.

– No you don’t.  One thing is missing.  What is it?

Yes, but…

– But what?

I don’t want to say it.

– Say it.

I’m afraid to say it.

– Daemon, what would make you happy?  What is missing?

A man.

– A man.  You want a man?

Yes.

– What kind of man?

An attractive man.  A perfect man.  Not a deceptive man.

– Do you know such a man?

No.
Maybe…
I don’t know.
There is no way to know if a man is deceptive.

– Think, man.

Yes, I know one.
Only one.
Me.
The only sure non-deceptive man I know is me.

– He’s available.  Why don’t you take him?

Because I’m him.

– There are two of you.  Both are looking for each other.

So my life is complete already!

– It always was.

My blog is about this.  I write about it but I don’t believe what I write!

– One does not believe and the other one does.

So what should I do?

– Associate with me.

My Ego

My ego has been begging me for attention.  He wants to be recognized on my blog!  (asshole)  He thinks that he’s so important and that his life matters.  He’s arrogant and emotional.  He’s also mortal.  But I’m stuck with him.

Anyway, I thought I should give him a post and let him express himself a little bit.  Let’s see what he comes up with.

I introduce you to Denny, my ego:

– – – – – – – – – –

Hi, Everyone!

I want to tell you about me.  You have to see what I look like.  So I gathered some photos from my album and here they are.  I’ll start at the beginning.

Here is my first school photo.
I was 6 years old and in grade one:

Ego06

I was intelligent, shy and very cute  🙂

Then I grew up and became an adult.
Here is my first passport photo when I was 23:

Ego23

Then I got married and had two kids.
Here is a photo that was taken after the birth of my second child, when I was 30:

Ego30

Then I got divorced and remained single for 4 years.

At age 37, I decided to get married again.
Here is a boudoir photo of me which was taken shortly after the wedding:

Ego37

Then I kept getting older and had two more kids.
Here is a photo of me at the cottage, when I was 47:

Ego47

I don’t want to tell you how long ago that last photo was taken.  What I want is for you to continue thinking that I am intelligent, shy and very cute.

Thank you for watching, and thank you Daemon for allowing me to show off on your blog.

Denny

Just a Man

Gud07

Here’s the beginning of a man.  The one I call me.

I arrived on this planet in the form of a human baby.  The body which Mother Earth lent me was male.  I was born a Caucasian male in a large country located in the northern part of North America.

Since my body was male, I was expected to grow up to become a man.  This might sound obvious and simple but it was one of the biggest challenges I had to face in this life.

How do you BECOME a man?  Was I not a young man already?  Why did my father shout at me?  Why did he keep hitting me?  Why did he try so hard to make a man out of me?  Was I not destined to become one automatically?  I did not understand what he was trying to do.  I thought there was something wrong with me.  He gave me the impression that I was failing and that I might turn into a girl if I was not careful.

Does it even make sense?  Let me try to remember…

I’m starting to shake as I think about this.  I feel a pressure inside my chest.  My hands, my arms are trembling as I try to type and concentrate on what I intend to write.

“He gave me the impression that I was failing and that I might turn into a girl if I was not careful.”  This sentence brings back a profound fear that is probably still in me.  I wonder if girls/women can relate to this.  It sounds ridiculous.  A boy cannot transform into a girl if he’s not careful.

It took me years before I began to understand what was going on.  But in the beginning, I was really confused about this male thing.  All I could perceive, with my child’s eyes, was that my father hated me.  I did not know why he hated me.

The memories are coming back now.  He hated it when I cried.  He would kick me and yell at me to stop crying.  But the more he hit me, the more I cried.  I tried to seal my lips by holding my mouth shut so that no sound would escape, but then it would come out of my nose and my eyes until everything went blurry.

Eventually I learned how to hold back my tears, how to muffle my voice and how to stay as far from him as possible.  I don’t even remember him ever hugging me.  I thought he was a man.  I knew that I didn’t want to become like him.  So who or what was I to become?  This is probably when I started to dissociate from mankind.

I knew that I was a man.  I also knew that I was not like the men I knew.  There was not one adult man with whom I could identify.  And I knew that I was not a girl.  So what was I?  An alien man?

Hell on Earth

I write

My body has a small defect that greatly affects the quality of my life “in the body.”

It’s sad how such a small glitch can ruin all the fun.

It’s not something that can be fixed or cured either.

A human body is meant to move. When we look at how the body is made, it’s obvious that it was made for movement. We are not plants.

Imagine if there was a defect in your body that would cause you to feel nauseous every time you moved. My body has this defect. The more I move, the more I feel nauseated, sickened and disgusted.

In time, a person who suffers from this defect becomes severely depressed. I was on a very high dose of antidepressants for many years, but in 2012 I realized that it was not worth it. An antidepressant can relieve depression but it cannot fix the source of the problem.

The medication actually caused more problems than it solved, so finally I decided that I would rather live with my physical defect than swallow one more pill.

I’m quite healthy but I can’t say that I am happy. I have a fit body. I can technically do any physical activity I want. The problem is I don’t want to. In order to feel good, I have to move as little as possible. I’m in a very weird kind of predicament!

The defect is called a balance disorder. It’s almost impossible to notice. I sit quietly all day, refusing to do almost any kind of physical activity, and people think I’m weird and negative. My family knows, but they keep forgetting, or sometimes I get the impression that they have no idea how I feel when I move.

If you ever wondered why I live inside my head, in a fantasy world with imaginary friends, now you know. What choice do I have? I get no pleasure from physical movement. Life in my body, in this physical world, to me is hell.

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!”