A place for a


Does rejecting societal influences make you more You?

You walk the streets and you see some stupid protesters, do-gooder activists, hippies, oh damn, whatever thing you can think of that makes you want to throw up. You sneer at that thing or person. You say to yourself, society is going to hell. You say to yourself, but I know better. You say to yourself, I know who I am.

And you walk the streets and think of yourself and fancy what you see. A man of integrity, a man with a firm set of values, a man who thinks for himself. You know stuff like:

  • Homosexuality is a mental illness.
  • Liberals suck and are dumb.
  • Life is hard.
  • (fill in whatever fits you)

So that’s you. That’s your identity. You know who you are, because you know what you believe. You think, therefore you are. And the thing that keeps you You is the strength to stand by your beliefs. Standing by your beliefs is a good thing, you heard it many times. Not giving in to people who want to manipulate you, change who you are.

You grew up in a culture that constantly wants to feed you its propaganda, constantly wants to control your life in every which way. You are smart, because you look through it. You know who you are.

Continue reading “Does rejecting societal influences make you more You?


A letter from his daughter

Paul got a letter from his daughter. He hesitated to read it. He put it away for a long time until he brought up the courage to open it. It said:


Hi daddy,

I had this voice in my head all my life. A voice that was telling me that I am a miserable piece of shit. That I don’t deserve love, don’t deserve pleasure, don’t deserve a fulfilling sex life.

Once the voice appeared in my dreams. It was the devil. A horrifying black cloud of terror. In that dream, I tried to fight him. Was it a him? Or was it an it? I tried to fight it, but my limbs were frozen. I could not move, as much as I tried. It ridiculed me and said You are mine. I whimpered and kept repeating to myself, No, no, no, oh please, god, no! Reality was disintegrating.

I woke up shaken and out of my mind. I pushed it all away, it could not be. I forced myself to forget about it.

Continue reading “A letter from his daughter



Anger. Anger so strong it seems to tear your muscles. Anger so strong it makes you want to throw up. Anger so strong it makes you feel dead. Anger fueled by shame, hatred, fear and time. Anger you can not contain, anger that takes you over and makes you its slave. Anger that makes you think of murder when you see beauty. Anger that burns, anger that freezes. Anger that isolates you, anger that makes you enjoy misery. Anger that violates your senses, anger that radiates, anger that consumes love and spits it out in disgust. Anger without trust. Anger unspoken of, anger not allowed to exist. Anger braking joy, anger breaking toys. Anger that destroys gods. Anger that belongs to a god. Anger in the shadows, anger burning meadows. Anger that does not forgive, anger that is unforgiven. Anger that attacks itself, anger yearning for hell. Anger seeking justice, seeking cause. Anger that is lost. Anger never born, anger full of scorn. Anger spreading terror, anger that is an error.

Anger that is a stranger. Anger that is a friend.

Beloved anger, forever mine, I am forever thine. Goodbye.


Fear is a program on your body computer

I wanted to go to the city today to buy something. As I contemplated the idea, I started to feel anxious. The idea of being in the city centre with lots of people around me did not feel absolutely terrifying, but still very uncomfortable. Social anxiety, or perhaps a mild agoraphobia, would be the correct scientific term.

Usually, I just push this stuff down and throw myself into the situation – or avoid it altogether. But in the long term, this kind of coping seems to make things worse, not better.

An idea that sometimes helps me be mindful about my emotions and thoughts is to see myself as pure consciousness or soul – let me call it operator for the sake of this article – residing in a human body, which I interpret as a computer with software on it. Or a tablet or an iPhone, whatever you can identify most with.

This concept helps me to detach enough from my emotions and reactions to observe them and try to understand them.

Social anxiety can be such a program. Its basic functionality is: Look for signs of social contact. If detected, create a push notification to notify the operator about the danger, and create physical resistance in the form of automated movements and/or pain to avoid exposure to the danger.

Continue reading “Fear is a program on your body computer


Love is not submission

Many awakening people write with awe about their first being-in-the-moment experience. It typically seems to happen in nature, in some awesome scenery. For me, it happened in a totally ordinary situation today, while sitting in a metro.

I had been observing my thoughts and emotions for an hour or so. My anger, lust, shame, sadness, all those things. The voices in my head that negotiate whether something can be allowed or not. And then gradually, I felt that my own presence increased, and that my identification with my emotions and thoughts faded. They were still there, but they were no longer the exclusive focus of my attention.

Opposite of me sat an old man with circumorbital rings who seemed to be in a somber mood, dreamily looking outside the window at the dark walls passing the train. A hot girl stood somewhere, with a sharp nose, exuding a witch-like presence. An old woman was looking around looking for something to be pissed about. A well-dressed man with a well-kempt beard and great haircut stood there with a serene and masculine and slightly anxious expression on his face. Another old man was lost in his thoughts about some family relatives.

And so on.

I looked at them without judging them – while observing how my mind did just that.

I realized that most of my life, I had not been seeing people. Or things. Or anything for what it was. All I had been perceiving were my judgments, opinions and categorizations of them, thoughts about their relation to myself, and the emotions that resulted from all that mental debris. I had basically only been seeing myself and the things those people meant to me – not the people themselves.

Continue reading “Love is not submission


What you most fear is what you most desire

Had a little trip on LSA yesterday. I had a fine little insight. Humbling as this stuff is, though, I must add that it may only be valid for me. And for those who desire similar human experiences as mine. Anyway, the insight is: The thing you are secretly most attached to – is the things you most fear. You, at the core of your being, desire nothing more than to embrace exactly that which you fear.

If you are a man of god and your greatest fear is irrationality, indecency and hell – then that is what you really crave to allow yourself to feel. To feel complete and finally let go.

And if you, then, most fear being hated and condemned by god for wanting that – then that is the experience you crave as well.

Yes, life is that fucking flexible.

That which we most suppress – is that which we least can let go. When we hate something, it is because we want to hate it, too. Really. I do not mean this in any metaphysical way. Literally. It is because we want to experience hating it. And the cool thing is that there is nothing wrong about that. Unless, of course, you want there to be something wrong about it – in which case that is the experience you get.

Ah, I am drifting away from my original point.

The hater is the closet lover.

The fearer as well.

The moment we choose something with our mind we choose it over something else and that something else is our closeted love. Exclusive desire – desire that excludes the non-desired – always creates a closet desire for the non-desired. Matter creates anti-matter. And they want back together. Yin and yang. Vag and dick.

Fear is an attachment to something.

That means we hold it dear somehow.

That’s absolutely okay.

Or not, if you don’t want it to be. :)

You know, I may not even be right, though. In fact, I think that the moment I start believing that this is true – I will create a secret attachment to a reality where it is not. And it will come to bite me in the ass and remind me that no belief is absolute. And the moment I believe no belief is absolute, I will be devastated to experience a reality in which it is. Or not? I must be bonkers. Am I? Who cares. Gotcha. I care, of course. And I don’t. Everything is true. Or not. I could go on like this forever. Or not.


Is your pain created by yourself or others?

I want to ask you a question. I want to ask you to answer it spontaneously, without thinking, out of your gut. The question is: Who creates all the pain in your life?

Okay, I admit it. I am not that creative. This question is just a variation of something a woman asked me in response to a Quora question of mine about free will. She wrote: Who creates your life? Although it seemingly had no connection to my question, I felt a deep desire to answer this question. And although I did not fully understand my own answer, it was simple: I. I create my life. I choose everything I am and everything I experience.

I still do not fully understand it. But I can not deny that the only answer that feels right is still the same.

There is a cool site called Existential Comics with lots of comics poking fun at philosophers of all ages. Here is a fun bit about stoicism. The message is a bit similar: You can not harm me. It is only me who can choose to suffer from events I have no control over.

I have been doing meditation for about half a year now and about two weeks ago I had a short insight into how this is true. I was at cinema and the ads started running as they always do. And as always, I had a reflexive reaction to them: I felt contempt, boredom, ridicule.

Continue reading “Is your pain created by yourself or others?


Envy is self-hatred

Envy is decried as unvirtuous and seen as an emotion directed at somebody’s success, but it is not. Envy is an impulse to compete, but this impulse – in the case of envy – is compulsive. That is, the envying person like an addict is not free to choose whether he wants to be better than the other person.

He simply must be superior. He does not even know why.

Logically, this compulsive obsession is alleviated the easiest way by crushing the tall poppy rather than outcompeting him.

The envious person feels bad when he sees success, because he feels the compulsive need to outperform the other person. How annoying to him. Best to create a microcosm where his superiority is never in doubt.

In any case, why the compulsion? It is the compulsion to escape self-hatred, triggered by being inferior. We learn how to treat our self – read: us – by how our parents treated our self.

We learned to hate ourselves when we were not the best. Or loathe. Or despise. Because we did not get the love we needed when we were not somehow superb.

Unreflectedly, there are two defense mechanisms:

  1. The cowardly way: Throw down another’s success.
  2. The noble way: Be at the top by beating the other dude.

Narcissistic culture propagates the noble way. Keeps the cash running. The Joneses and all that. And never forget the anti-depressive pills, yum yum.

Of course, one may suggest that one rather start to learn to treat oneself better and not hate oneself for being inferior.

But do you really hate the other person? No, you hate your idea and feeling of the other person. But these are parts of your self. Every hatred is self-hatred.

Self-hatred can be channeled into pointless heroism, but ultimately, it is a more or less conscious way of self-inflicted cruelty.

Envy is a self-destructive yet intuitive way off saying fuck you to those who demand pointless greatness of you.


How can you prove the past?

Mike Cernovich once wrote something about memories not being quite accurate. That thought germinated in me for a while and I think it is very profound. Recently, I already speculated about the nature of knowledge. In short: How can you know what you know before you actually think a thought? During the time you are not thinking a thought, you are not even aware of its existence. Can you have confidence that next time you need to remember something particular, it will still be there?

But what happens to a thought while you are not aware of it? What happens to a memory? How can you know that the next time you remember something, it will still be the same thing? And when you remember it, how can you verify its veracity other than by your memory of it – that is, by itself?

So the only proof of the veracity of a memory is the memory itself. A memory that has possibly spent years in your subconscious, constantly affected by all kinds of stimuli. To trust that it will always be the same is blind faith!

Continue reading “How can you prove the past?


What is a delusion? Past reality or genetic memory?

The doctors think I am schizophrenic, because it seems bizarre that I would get into a fight with a cop. So, am I? Well, I think I actually am. That is, I think that the extended definition that spans three papers fits me often enough. But so do some personality disorders.

Is schizophrenia a firm thing that the definition hints at or is the definition the thing itself? For example, there are intuitive concepts like an honest smile that healthy people will recognize as a distinct thing while mentally impaired may not.

Schizophrenia is, first and foremost, a word.

Is schizophrenia like a smile? A distinguishable aura that healthy people clearly see? Or is it a rather nebulous concept used whenever something a person says or does seems bizarre? I can clearly see how my behavior seems bizarre to an outsider. And yet, from my own standpoint, it seems almost perfectly logical.

Without wasting time about the question of whether schizophrenia is a real thing, let me just ask: What are delusions?

I have two or three ideas.

Continue reading “What is a delusion? Past reality or genetic memory?