Friday, March 19, 2010

Hidden Recesses of One's Mind, My Mind

In humans, disappointments, pain, feelings of betrayal and inadequacy and humiliation are often pushed aside, hidden, buried, and suppressed from surfacing. Yet they're resilient; they want to be dealt with. That's when psychotherapy is useful. Life is a process of adjustment, of meeting these sources of sorrows and solving them, not pushing them aside, out of sight. Life is not a sigh. It must be a celebration, a conquest of what bothers us.

Like today, memories of BF, MF, AX, and even 4Y surfaced and demanded an audience with me. I welcomed them to the inner sanctum of my soul. And I first acknowledged that I couldn't win all battles. I was not smart, nor cynical nor cruel nor practical enough. And I failed occasionally, sometimes even dramatically. Now I've learned who I am, I have a clear vision of what I want to do with my life. I promise to myself to be unsentimental and untrusting because every human I meet can be potentially a dog, a pig, and a coward. Recent encounters with many assholes have confirmed that hypothesis. The more an asshole appears to be kind, sensitive, and talkative, the more potentially he is cruel, insensitive, and merely trying to cover up his true self. A kind and strong man has self-control and is a person of few words. When he expresses his disappointments, he couches his terms in a controlled manner. He does not want to hurt and wound others because he is kind. He speaks because the other person leaves him no choice. Yet he never crosses the line of civility and kindness. So, I must imitate him. I must learn to leave my opponent an escape route. There is no need for me to put my foot on my opponent's head and press his face hard into the ground while raising my arms high and uttering a primal scream of triumph.

I'm very much into Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) now. I use words to change my mind from negative and critical to positive and loving. All the shit and aggression you have seen in this blog of mine is a way for me to discharge and shed my persona and let my true caring tender emerge and take flight. Fuck, you know and I know not too many Vietnamese possess the linguistic talent as I do. Yet I have
been using that talent to my detriment, not advantage. I talk like a philosopher and act like a fool. What has been bothering me is that so
much the lack of awareness as the curbing of the instinct for revenge when faced with acts of insolence

Just to change the atmosphere, a woman recently flirted with me and said she wanted to play footsies with me. I said no because I didn't want to be tormented by memories. Love, a true kind, is mysterious. And it hurts like hell, even after 40 years. Tonight I shut myself in myroom and just do Yoga until I am exhausted and pass out. Then I would reach out for a novel by Lee Child and lull myself to sleep.

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