Lust is a mental disease, a social disorder. Everybody is just looking to fuck everybody else and fuck themselves up sufficiently in the process. It doesn’t have to be sex – although at the end of the day it accumulates into that because all desires are like on-ramps of the same highway – the sex super highway. I have been all about the High way throughout my life, for as long as I remember, for as long as I first allowed myself to believe myself to be inferior and bask in this feeling I got from an idea of something greater than me that I must attain and experience. Motherfucker, I really fell for that shit hard. Only a stupid fucker like me would then have to try and look so smart while I chase some really stupid shit. Yes, I am angry, I am judging myself – useless, but merely a resonant outflow of consequence of having fallen and been actually so stupid. I will stop now and look at the shit.
I always fall in a process of accumulation – as I have been noticing and has been clearly shown to me. That is why every moment – breath, here in every moment – is so important – to stop each and every single point of accumulation towards this point – and it makes breathing through the final accumulated point that much easier.
Why have I allowed myself to fall for such a stupid point, that my entire life has been shaped around chasing a picture – a feeling and particular experience I get from a picture which is based on the value I have given to the picture, based on a belief that is how I defined the picture. A pretty picture, nothing more. And now, all pretty pictures own me. The pretty girl. Pretty home, pretty food, pretty hobby, pretty job, pretty friends, pretty car. Pretty petty, I am a pet and everything is to me but a pet – pet meaning slave. All this just to feel good. Just for happiness, just for love. Why am I not happiness? Why am I not goodness and love in fact as who I am? Why do I chase it like a fool? Have I allowed my existence to be and become so fucked up for so long that evil and malcontent has become my very beingness? That before I even knew it, and for as long as I remember, I have always been fucked up, and evil? I mean it is like this shit happened. I was born, and the first thing that happened was becoming evil. That’s how little of a chance people have in this world as the result of our accumulated fuck up, done over billions of years, allowed by billions of people. So I guess we had better do some math and learn a fucking thing or two about accumulation to see where the fuck we’re headed. I mean we are in space and time, that is like, intrinsically consequential and accumulative. How dishonest can I be that I would dare to completely disregard that fact? That I would dare put my own apparent happiness over my own life and the lives of others?
It’s time I got this shit out and faced it. I don’t want to because I am too scared of what others will think and I still do not trust myself to not act and give in to my own desires. Yet here I write. Will there even be any value in what I write? What value will I give it? And the same foolishness and naivety that I live within and as myself, I live in my world with others as well. It is like I don’t always see that this is what everyone is doing all the fucking time, because like me, no one will fucking admit that that is all they are ever doing, ALL THE TIME. After all the world spins, and we just continue to fuck. And while we’re not fucking, we continue to look for a fuck. And while our world is more fucked up than it ever has been with no view of change and self correction in sight, we continue to allow ourselves to believe the fact – and HIDE that belief – that we must fuck ourselves and others to feel alive, to live apparently. Amazing what exist under the surface, that we all hide, that is real magic.
Even as I write this – I plot my next move – even as I stick to my application, pay attention, act – I desire for more. What will it take? How many times have I asked myself, “what will it take?”, how much longer will I keep asking myself this question?
The focus must be on self – because there is virtually nothing that is trustworthy in this world as my experience. None of the personalities I experience, not of the good feeling I have, none of the love that is shared, not of the desires and aspirations I have, none of the things and positions I have accumulated, none of the smiles and happy faces, none of the things that I ever believed were and held as true, real goodness, positive or love. The world is the temptation, and I am the deceiver, the self deceiver who has become one so lost that the only thing I exist as is the desire to find myself again – something that is completely fake – completely deceptive, because no desire to find myself can ever be real – it is further deception to further separate myself from myself and never ever live as myself ever again.
That is all that having sex – as fulfilling ones desires – can ever attain.
I have become nothing more than a shadow of myself, chasing myself yet like a real shadow, I don’t ever actually get anywhere. I will apply myself, apply the tools that I have found effective within and as this process, going completely against and in light of everything that I am everyone in this world has become. Or was has everything I wrote here already tainted by the shadow? Am I already trapped within a consequential outflow as a time loop to show me what the fuck I actually allowed in the very beginning, to show me just how vital it is and what it means to stand, and the ultimate fuckup of one simple starting point that originate from right here in every moment? The short, easy way, or the long hard way? Either way I will find out. We are haunted by shadows always.