Dying to Feel Alive

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Dad I’m struggling
Just to survive

Mom I’m eating
To have the drive

Bro I’m willing
To take the dive

Sis I’m walking
But don’t arrive

I’m hard working
I really strive

I keep failing
And never thrive

I’ve been praying
Since I was five

God I’m dying
To feel alive

Are You Happy

Torment2

Stupid question.

She asked me if I was happy.

My lovely wife asked me if I was happy.

– What was your answer?

I said:  “I didn’t get married to end up divorced.”

We’re not officially divorced.  This is why I didn’t write “ex-” in front of the word “wife.”  She’s my wife.  But it’s just like if we were divorced.  I know how it feels to be divorced because I used to be.  Before I met her.  Now my second marriage has gone down the drain also.

Tabarnak <—  This is a swear word.  In the culture I was born into, this is what one says when one is pissed.  It’s the word I never dared to say when I was young because my parents would have killed me.  Good little Catholic boys NEVER say that word.

Tabarnak.  Now I say it.  I am pissed.  But I don’t know who to blame.  Me?  Her?  Life?  God?  The Universe?  Nobody.  No one.  This is just how life goes.  Life sucks.  You build, you build, you hope, you hope, you believe, you trust, then everything crumbles.

Bravo, Life!  Clap-clap, I applaud.  “Trust the Lord,” they say.  Yeah…  Right…  Sure…  I trusted.  “Love conquers all!”  Bullshit.  Caca.  Love is a deception.  Love is the sneakiest Deceptress of all time.  Love has screwed up more people than mass media and the Catholic Church combined.

And now she asks me if I’m happy.
I thought she was joking.
I looked at her.
She was serious.
She is nuts.

Yes, I am happy that I have left you.  Now if you could just disappear and stop reminding me of my past, maybe I could concentrate on my future.  And guess what?  I hope to fall in love again.  Because I’m crazy.  Just like this life and you.

Will I Live Forever

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Looking back at my life, I realize how much time I have spent trying to connect with others.  And in the end, what do I get?

I know that I am not at the end of my life yet, but let’s say that I was, that this was my last day.

I am all alone now.  Everyone I have known is going their own way.  I wonder if my presence matters.

My presence matters to me, but does it matter to the others?

Take my best friend, for example.  He was my cousin.  He was my best friend from age 10 to probably 25.  Then both of us got married and with time we stopped seeing each other, then we stopped writing and now he is nothing more than a facebook image.

We could reconnect and make our friendship meaningful again, but then we could never reconnect ever.  At this point in his life, I don’t think my presence matters to him.  And his presence does not really matter to me either.  It could be him or it could be another, but it would be nice to have a friend.

But friends don’t last forever.  Or do they?  It depends on my life.  Does my life last forever?  Will I live forever?  Will a part of me never die?

If I live forever and all the friends that I ever had live forever also, then how can I say that friends don’t last forever?

So many things depend on whether or not I live forever.  And THIS, from where I stand today, is a question of belief or faith.

From what I perceive with my five senses, death is a reality and death is the end of life as I know it.  Death of the physical body that is — deterioration of the flesh and bones.

But some say that my consciousness will remain… alive, or aware.  And there are many indications that this might be true.  But no physical proof, of course, since consciousness is not physical.

It’s funny that the Universe did not bother giving me more concrete proof of everlasting life if this is indeed my destiny.  As if it didn’t matter.  It DOES matter!  Every decision I take could and should be based on the fact that either death is the end or it’s not.

Why does Life think that it’s a good idea to keep me in the dark when it come to this question?  If my life is eternal, why does Life choose to show me that the death of my physical body means the end of me?  It seems like a very important question, but Life seems to mock me.

To Bitch or Not to Bitch

Bitch1

I feel like bitching but I don’t know what to bitch about.

To Bitch:
To criticize spitefully, often for the sake of complaining
rather than in order to have the problem corrected.

There are too many things to bitch about, I don’t know where to start.

Bitch2

I could bitch about this proverb.  No, let’s just focus on the first word.

Life.

What’s the problem with life?  Let’s talk about human life because it’s the only one I’ve experienced so far.  The problem is that it doesn’t come with an instructions manual.

I was given something that seems pretty awesome on the onset, but then after a while, everything starts to fail.  You spend your time repairing things that keep breaking.  Everything breaks down eventually, everything!

And at the end you die.

What a bitch!

Born to Be Alive

Gud08

Alive?

What does it mean to be alive?

Let’s look it up in the dictionary:

– – – – – – – – – –
Alive

1.  Having life; living; not dead.

2.  In a state of action; in force or in operation

3.  Unextinguished; unexpired; existent

4.  Animated; lively; brisk

5.  Having susceptibility or vulnerability

6.  Easily impressed; sensitive

7.  Having feelings, as opposed to apathy
– – – – – – – – – –

So I was born to be all these things?
How am I doing so far?

It’s important to consider because I know I was born.
I also know that I was born on this day.
Today’s my birthday.

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.

Lifestyle Change

Ding Dong 3

  • Daemon, do you intend to leave me?
  • On the contrary, I intend to get closer.
  • How do you intend to do that?
  • I was hoping you could tell me.
  • I told you already, don’t you remember?
  • Ah, yes…  the Dominant/submissive thing.  Apparently it helps couples become more intimate and makes their interaction a lot more exciting.
  • Would you like to try it?
  • I thought today’s subject was Tenacity?
  • It is.  Have you looked up the definition of the word?
  • Tenacity:  the quality of bodies which keeps them from parting.
  • Do we have this quality?
  • I don’t know.  Is our bond solid, Maestro?
  • Have you tried the D/s lifestyle in any of your former relationships?
  • Never.
  • So I ask you again, would you like to try it, with me?
  • Who would be the Dominant?
  • Me, since you already called me Maestro.
  • Ok, I wouldn’t mind at all to be submissive to you.
  • Let’s start right now.
  • Yes, Maestro.  Do I have the permission to kiss your feet first?
  • I don’t have any feet, dummy.
  • I know!  LOL!  Am I not funny?
  • Bad submissive!  For your punishment, you shall cook dinner and eat it too.  While I eat you.
  • They were right, it’s starting to be exciting already!
  • Silence!  You shall not speak without my permission from now on.
  • . . .
  • Speak.
  • Thank you, feetless Maestro.

Your Pet

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This is you.  This photo represents the whole you.  The woman in the picture symbolizes your soul and the man symbolizes your physical body.

Your soul is the real you.  It is an immortal free spirit.  Your physical body is the pet that was assigned to you by God.  It is mortal.  The Creator wants to see how responsible your spirit is, if you are willing and able to take care of a living buddy.  Before giving you a permanent ethereal body, God is testing you to see if you are trustworthy towards living creatures.

So the purpose of your life on earth is pretty simple:  to take care of your pet, your body, with its physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual needs.  If you succeed, you will pass the test and be granted a permanent glorified body, after your temporary earth pet dies.

You fail the test if you kill your pet (suicide), if you kill someone else’s pet (murder), or if your pet becomes your god (idolatry).

You see, spirituality is exciting, fun and very simple.  Just accept the fact that you are a spirit in charge of a pet and everything will fall into place.

– – – – – – – – – –

This is what I am inspired to write this morning, thanks to David who first gave me the idea last month when I read his blogpost entitled You Are Not a Physical Body, in which he states:  “Your body is your pet, it is not you.”  Thanks David.

Deception

Deception

I remember the events that triggered my depression.  One day I realized that my wife was lying to me, my employer was lying to me, my brother was lying to me, God was lying to me, and finally I was lying to myself by thinking that my loved ones would never lie to me.  That day, I became extremely depressed and I have been trying to pull myself out of this pit of bullshit ever since.

I figured out why people lie.  There is a reason for it.  People usually don’t lie just for the fun of it, since there is a risk involved.  They lie because they feel that they don’t have much choice.  They lie because they are scared and because they are trying to survive.  They are afraid to lose something, so they lie to gain something.  It usually works in the short term, but not in the long term.

But that’s not my problem.  My problem is how to deal with it.  I can choose to be honest, but that won’t change the people around me who choose to continue to lie.  I had to come up with a solution.  Trust became an issue.  I realized I was surrounded and involved with people who lie and others who might or might not be lying, and that there was no way for me to be absolutely sure if they were.  This made me very uncomfortable and depressed.

How can I deal properly if I don’t even know if I’m dealing with truth or with lies?  All the deep connections I had with people were put on hold, until I found a solution.  Of course, trust is not really necessary with the superficial connections I have with people, but it is necessary to some degree with deeper, more meaningful relationships.

Have I found a solution?  I’m not sure.  Something weird did arise from the depression of not being able to profoundly trust anyone.  I would call it detachment.  This is what this blog is all about.  The process of detaching from this world and connecting with something better that might seem, from the outside, to be imaginary.

This detachment solution was given to me.  I didn’t have to fabricate it.  It opened up, and I received it, not knowing where it would lead me.  It got me quite far, much farther than I could have ever imagined, almost to a point of no return.  I’m looking back now and I’m asking:  “Could I ever go back to the way I used to deal with life?”  I don’t think I could.  How could I reattach to all the people and the things I detached myself from?

I realized that the only way I could truly trust people and their world would be if all of it was transparent.  As long as the world is not transparent, it will always remain possible for things to be hidden.  And hiding something is the root of deception, the foundation of every lie.

I aspire to more than this bullshitting planet, and if this means I have to daily escape in some fantastic dimension, then so be it.  If you have discovered a better solution, please let me know.

I Trust Me

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I seek I
I sees me

I talk to I
I listens to me

I ask I
I answers me

I cry to I
I consoles me

I thank I
I welcomes me

I trust I
I unveils me

I close my eye
I exposes me

I desire I
I touches me

I allow I
I caresses me

I let I
I hugs me

I embrace I
I squeezes me

I sense I
I stimulates me

I invite I
I enters me

I permit I
I moves me

I incite I
I fills me

I open my eye
I hypnotises me

I fall in I
I becomes me

I die to I
I kills me

I lose I
I takes me

I am I
I am me

I trust I
I trust me