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A vision from a weird kind of hell …

You are in a big prom hall. You hear beautiful fairy tale songs from your childhood. Everyone seems in ecstasy and full of joy. Your grandparents are around you and you remember being with them while you were small. And the almost Christmaslike innocent kitsch music fills the room with childlike wonder.

Now a group of men walk in. They carry axes and swords. They start killing and ripping apart all your loved ones.

If this was a normal avantgarde movie, that in itself would be provocative enough. The music would now switch to some weird horror music.

But not in hell. No.

In hell, the innocent childlike music keeps playing, lulling you into feelings of comfort and joy. And at the same time you see the horror before your eyes … and since you are so nicely conditioned to be hypnotized by beautiful music and let it dictate your judgment and mood ….

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A seminar on interpersonal relationships

I just woke up from a dream that seemed very meaningful and important to me. It happens a lot recently. Here goes:

I was visiting a seminar on interpersonal relationships and I immediately got a bad vibe about it. The people on stage were young people of the scientific type.

So I sat there. A block and pencil on the desk in front of me. And one of them opened her or his mouth and said: Alright, so, ummh. There are three types of relationsh…

This was unacceptable. I had had enough of that shit in my life. Enough of that dead, lifeless, detached-from-everything-real bullshit.

I raised my hand.

Nobody noticed me.

I spoke up and interrupted the speaker. I said loudly, so that everyone could hear me: Excuse me, but before you start, please tell me who you are to teach me about relationships?

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Pussy, the dangling carrot

A phallic symbol like the carrot is overly hard-pressed to represent a pussy and yet this fertile bosom, this female soul which I so desperately want to pee my semen into always seemed like that to me. The more I want it, the more intense my desire for sexual catharsis, the more absolute seems my conviction that I will never get it.

I wrote about it before, in a slightly different manner.

It is a cruel, weird and illogical mindset. Is it even a mindset? Can this conundrum overlapping complexities, of self-cancelling frequencies in my mind be called a set up? Or rather pure disorder?

Yet this deserves its own short article. I already decided that I am not further interested in boxing my way through to pussy just for meaningless notches in my own carrot and this theme of being forbidden something absolutely desirable simply for it being absolute desirable keeps coming up.

I think it can be summed up with the idea of a quasi-communistic – that is, delusional – great leap forward. The externally encouraged hope that if one keeps acting moronically, one will eventually reach that which is desired.

And what is that? What is that highest desirable thing? It is to be fully and unrestrainedly yourself and still loved and desired for or despite it.

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Things the modern man feels ashamed of or guilty for in himself

Sweat, smell, body odor, genitals, ass, asshole, shit, penis, piss, cum, sexual attraction, love, smile, authority, dominance, masculinity, submissiveness, weakness, needs, kindness, tolerance, intolerance, deciciveness, spirituality, intuition, gayness, abnormal behavior, abnormal movements, abnormal voice or intonation, personality, being himself, wanting to take a woman, rape, murder, bloodlust, aggression, conflict, contempt, disgust, anger, rage, sadness, disappointment, grief, crying, complaining, being a victim, getting abused, being wrong, disagreement, doubt, disobedience, laziness, unreliability, inconsistency, immorality, sins, guilt, shame, tears, pouting, feeling insulted, feeling, emotions, hatred, being dumb, being unskilled, being worse than another, losing, winning, being better than another, pride, defeat, victory, opinion, protest, rebellion, independence, solitude, loneliness, friendlessness, offensive personality, bluntness, curiosity, questioning, insisting, being difficult, being docile, being disrespected, being respected, being loved, not being loved, rejection, rejecting others, caring, feminine side, masculine side, evil, greatness, humility, patheticness, irrationality, extreme emotions, competitiveness, challenging personality, original thought, rudeness, embarassing himself, discomfort, comfort, weirdness, awkward situations, not being smooth, talent, impoliteness, mental problems, health problems, financial problems, problems, arrogance, hubris, lack of approval, disappointing others, failing expectations, uncertainty, lack of confidence, confidence, existence, body, violence, strength, power, wish for power, wisdom, dirty thoughts, fetishes, selfishness, self.

So. What remains of the modern man? What is he proud to be – if he can be proud? Ah.

Working hard, serving others, pleasing his woman, being a hero, selflessness, niceness, obedience, dutifulness, consuming food and beverages, getting drunk, discipline, being a good man, having women, having high status, being respectable, indifference, rationality, suppressed emotions, doing the right thing, serving his fatherland, going to war, dying, being a martyr, being able to tolerate abuse, not insisting on getting his way, not being difficult, fulfilling expectations, making others proud, loving others like the self, worshipping Jesus, hating his job, finding life miserable, waiting for the coffee break, hating his job, politeness, social skills, drinking beer, eating hamburgers.

Well. Feel free to add whatever I missed.


We always atttract what we really want

A slut parade marcher attracts rapusts, somewhat. In short, a slutty dress for the freedom of expression attracts rape.

I got into a fistfight with a cop because I wanted to freely express myself and disobey his bullying. And they put me in a mental hospital with body restraints.

In a way, the less you try to impose your magnificence on others out of protest – the lesser your fear of unfreedom – and the more you let it flow, the greater effective freedom you gain in every single moment of your lived experience.

Fuck this weird world, right?

My spelling mistake will attract somebody who will correct it – unless perhaps, he reads this sentence.


Why I do not learn game

When I see a confident and relaxed man with his girl on the street, I just know it. I know there is something wrong with me. I know that this man has something I lack. It hurts. It makes me feel lost, inferior, fallen, alone.

This man has trust in himself.

I have been running from this feeling my whole life. I thought if I could just imitate that man, do whatever he does, act like he acts, move like he moves, speak like he speaks; if I could convince everybody that I am in fact that man, I could start believing it myself.

I wanted to believe that everybody is just faking it, because I was. I wanted the world to be a show, so that I could run from that deeply seated, but vague notion I call inner emptiness for lack of a better word. Run from my overwhelming shame for not being who I should be, shame for that leaking wound in my soul that surely was my own fault, a wound that was an abomination and an insult to they eyes of everybody I dared to show it to.

When a girl I desired told me that I was not confident enough to be attractive, I knew she was right. But I did not even have enough confidence to acknowledge this. I did not even have enough trust in my own judgment to acknowledge the obvious truth. Instead, I hated her. I still hate her. I hate all the people who pry open my soul and expose it to my eyes, to my eyes that want to look away in terror, look away from the monstrosity I carry inside myself, that steaming graveyard of emotions.

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What are your limits?

There were a handful of situations in my life where I really tried to be a hero and fight through it all, but ultimately failed. Nothing tells you quite as much about yourself as to find your hard limits despite best efforts. It fortifies your sense of reality and you are undeniably confronted with the mechanics of cause and effect.

I am no John McTough and these are no war stories. Nevertheless, these experiences at their respective times defined the boundaries of my power and are thus among the most intimate of my life.

They are intimate, because they reflect truths about my self that can not be denied. When you know that you tried your best, you can not lie to yourself by saying you could have, if you had really tried. Because you really did try.

This definitive and disillusioning quality of limits is also the one that brings peace to your mind. It is an experience of absolute truth at the time and shuts down all ego-preserving attempts to rationalize or relativize. It gives you the gift of finally being able to feel yourself without running away and puts a dark and calming cloak over your senses. The ultimate bullshit-breaker.

Ironically, thus, this admission of defeat also provides you with confidence.

You do not have to read all these stories. Choose the ones you find interesting. If you have a moment, please share one of your stories as well.

Anyway, here goes.

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What is this shit life all about?

Yeah, I know. You are used to better title pictures from me. Police took my computer, so I only have access to some shitty online Photoshop clone. Well so what, shit life deserves a shit picture.

Anyway, question of my fucking life. What is the right way? You supposed to be a worker bee? A Machiavellian? A moral man? A hero and athlete? Or rather a disgusting scoundrel?

Life by now has been a damned series of painful moments interrupted occasionally by the euphoria of understanding and aha moments, moments in which I realized some meaningless bullshit. Moments that seemed like they would change everything. But they never do.

What is the point of this fuck?

Ask somebody for advice and they tell you X or Y. Be happy. Or be social. Or be an asshole. Or a businessman. Seek conflict. Or harmony. Or enlightenment. And when you ask why, they say because of evolutionbecause we are social animalsbecause God saidbecause it is the law, because it just makes sense, because of power, because of desire, because of altruism, because of selfishness, because of money, because of honor, because of loyalty, because of principle, because of Karma.

It is just one big round of circular reasoning, one word brought up to justify another. One sound uttered to bolster a second. But no one to tell you: Why should I?

To be happy? Fulfilled? But what for? Others say the key lies in suffering. Dudes, can you make up your fucking minds?

And in the end, the most honest people – as much as I fucking hate to admit it – are the ones who say: Because I say so. The ones with power who simply force your hand.

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Ayahuasca: The devil called me to Peru – Part 3: Hell

I leave the damned Maloka in the morning. Only people inside beside me were the German guy and the girl, asked for the time. Mh, something around 6 a.m., time to go back to my own wooden housy. Some people of the tribe sit around.

The way to my hut leads past the hut of the black chick. God, I want to fuck her. What will you do about it, Son? Don’t know, God, nothing?

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A warrior on LSD

A friend gave me a small portion of LSD and I am tripping now. I am making interesting observations in this state of mind, but I think that I may well come to the conclusion that it’s not worth doing this again – for already having mastered this challenge. Therefore it’s surely worth taking a few notes.

The reason why I took LSD is to face off once more with the terror that left me almost nuts after my Ayahuasca ceremony.

Playing with this drug feels like being challenged by a strong opponent in the game of frame control. I feel like I am walking on the edge of something dangerous. My ability to distinguish my self from the challenge and fear seems crucial, as much as the conscious knowledge of the fact that I chose the fear and the weird thoughts that encounter me.

I feel on top of it, owning it, and from there stems my courage.

Yet I know that it is only a small step down from this confidence towards crippling fear as I had experienced it after my first naive encounter with psychedelic drugs.

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