Misery of the Monkeys, A Love Story (to be continued)
"In Africa, simians and apes are often hunted down by their human cousins for food, euphemistically called "bush meat". The poor simians and apes live in constant fear of big cats and humans. Death is expected at around the corner, the only unknown are when and how. They don't know if they will die today or tomorrow, of claws and jaws or knives and guns. We could say their lives are full of miseries. Of course, meanwhile they have rare moments of joy and contentment in finding food, being in the company of their loved ones, or having sex.
Most of their human cousins don't have a much different existence. While they no longer fear claws and jaws of wild predators, they still fear the machinations and greed of their fellow humans. So they live on guard and distrust because they are incapable of higher emotions like Love and Compassion and Pursuit of Knowledge and Justice. They are full of poses and lies and self-deception. They don't know what Happiness means. They lash out at others and call them "stupid " or "wrong" while they themselves are much worse off than those they denounce. All their actions are self-destructive and yet ironically reflective of the protection of their Ego.
Suppose if they understand there is no real Ego, no Self, as such, but a temporary, transient presence of an organism/entity in the endless swirl of transformation and manifestation of Energy. We are born and we will die. Our existence by itself has no meaning, no lasting value or significance in the true meaning of the word. We think there is, because of the built-in instinct to stay alive and procreate.
The Illusion of Ego and the Protection of Ego have accounted for our misery. So, if you insult me and I insult you back, we would both end up feeling "good" and cathartic. But actually what we have done is really small and petty. Life would be much better if I live not in awe or fear or envy or contempt of you, but merely in acceptance of who you are, then I would not be in misery and would not cause misery to you.
Happiness is to accept Facts, Knowledge, and Reality, and not to run away from them in the protection of the Illusory Ego.
Happiness is being comfortable with who you are and let others be what they want to be as long as they don't infringe on your right to Happiness and Peace.
Happiness is to see the inanities of fellow humans and smile and keep walking on instead of feeling superior and thus stopping in order to give them a lecture. Not many humans like to listen to unsolicited lectures. They don't know you are showing Love and Compassion. You are not that strong, so you must opt for Indifference.
Happiness is to live in undeclared, wishful fantasies of Love because you fear your Beloved are not smart or strong enough to take a Journey of Love with you. He or she may be risk-averse and not full of hopes and dreams as you are. So you must live in fantasies, the next best to the real things. That's the magic of being a human, not a monkey. Monkeys have no fantasies.
The world will be much better place if there is more Silence and less Noise, more Love and less Hate, more Giving and less Taking.
The world will be a much better place if we really conduct ourselves as real humans that we are capable of, instead of as miserable monkeys and rakish rascals."
You finished the monologue, smiled, looked straight at her eyes, and reached for her hand across the restaurant table where she and you were having chicken wings downed with Heineken, and squeezed it tenderly. You then said, "I hope you got a message somewhere in what I just said."
She didn't withdraw her hand back. She then laced her fingers with yours and softly said, "I think so, but I'm afraid. I am a woman. I have to worry about my image. I fear malicious gossips, scandals, shame, and humiliation. I don't know. What we are doing is wrong, morally wrong. We must wait, Roberto. Haste makes waste. We have waited for five years already. We can wait some more. We are old folks. We must be concerned with honor and dignity. You must not act like a hot-blooded schoolboy. Things have consequences."
You took her hand, kissed it and, pressed it against your cheek. You then sighed and said,
-You'e absolutely right. We can't afford to be melodramatic and make our lives more complicated than they already are. We must observe the protocol and rules of the world in which we inhabit. We can't move forward with a propulsive verve and have lapses of judgment.
Five years ago you met her out of the blue, on a blind date arranged by a mutual friend. At that time she was separated by her dentist husband. In your case, your third wife just walked out on you, leaving you a short note on the kitchen table when you came home after work, off the train, "Roberto, we are through. I'm leaving you. Don't bother to look for me. I won't come back. Yes, there's somebody else. Yes, he's much younger, more accomplished, and much better than you in bed."
Stunned and dazed, you looked at the note and didn't know what to do: cry or call the police. The bitch took with her the nicer car (the black Jaguar), all her jewelry and pictures, some of the clothes, and the family dog---a beautiful, sweet, mixed Alsatian-boxer named Toutou.
You called the cops that evening after downing almost half a bottle of Patrón. Two cops, a male and a female came to the condo, took your statement, asked you a bunch of basic questions: any fights? any warnings? did this happen before? how long were you together? Then they left, after asking you to sign the police report. They gave you a copy. They also advised you to keep the farewell note in a safe place, in case you needed it if something happened to her. They told you things like this happened quite often. As a humanitarian gesture of concern, you supposed, the female cop said, "Please take good care of yourself, " before joining her partner to the door.
You were surprised that the following few weeks were tough on you. You took the bitch's sudden departure quite hard. You didn't realize you loved her that much until she was gone, despite the taunts in the goodbye note. You were also angry and bitter. You did feel humiliated and stupid. Sleep was hard to come by. You tossed and turned and had weird dreams. Luckily for you (in retrospect, you had always been lucky; it was you who kept screwing up your life), by chance you came across an article about Sadhguru. From this mystic yogi, you learned to take a fresh look of yourself, including from the points of view of others. You came to recognize your key blind spots and misperceptions about yourself. Thus began your slow ascent from the emotional abyss dug by your immaturity and stupidity.
You moved to a new city to start a life anew. You joined a health club. You embarked an intellectual, physical, and emotional journey of improvement. You started dating women of all ages and ethnicity for fun and experience. You met interesting bitches and vicious vixens. You learned a lot about human females, the so-called "weaker" sex. You also learned a lot about yourself, your so-called "failure grand and total" as a man, your character, your nature.
You found out that you were a shallow kind of guy who had a predilection for breadth, not depth. You read about many subjects and learned quite a few languages. You dabbled into poetry and short story writing while fantasizing about homicide. You ventured into stock market and poker. Bodybuilding and long distance running fascinated you. And you loved to talk, to dispense opinions, and to formulate theories about human behaviors. You did all of the above while entertaining a faint hope that perhaps someday you would run into a woman of your dreams who would command your respect and affection. You kept telling yourself you must kiss a lot of frogs before coming across a princess while coping with your loneliness, with your need to be understood, accepted, and loved.
Just when you almost gave up hopes of meeting a princess in the guise of a common frog, a woman with whom you had been talking to on and off at a poker room in town asked you if you would like to meet a M.D. friend of hers. At that time, you just ended a relationship with a grandiose, delusional, lazy woman who thought she was a real nice lady worthy to be married to a U.S. senator or a college professor while her only assets were a mellifluous voice and a mania for cleanliness and order in her house. You were tired of being disappointed and deceived by common women masquerading as ladies of substance. You were sick of selfish bitches. You were weary and wary of women playing the Game of Love, using their smiles and bodies as baits.
So, you almost said no to the poker-playing match-maker who was singing praises of this nice, educated female physician of your age who was being separated from her dentist husband. But somehow an inner voice told you to say yes as you would have really nothing to lose except maybe some of your precious dwindling time on this planet.
After talking on the phone and texting each other photos, she and you agreed to meet at the Starbucks on Paradise Drive, off Sahara Avenue. You had known quite a few doctors, male and female, and you didn't like most of them. You found them arrogant and not well-read. Of course, they were intelligent, but not off the charts. Not that you had an inferiority complex towards them or anything like that. After all, you were quite intelligent yourself, well-read, and conversant in several languages, besides endowed with artistic sensibilities and literary creativity. You just had less money than they did. But money was not the criterion by which you evaluate a person's worth. So you were prepared to walk away from this kidney specialist if she turned out to be a bitch.
But she was not. She was Asian like you, but not of the same ethnicity. She hailed from Shanghai, spoke good English, but of course her English was not good as yours. Not many folks, native speakers included, had an exquisite command of the English language as you did. When you were on, you spoke a bewitching, lyrical, coherent, sophisticated English that sounded like they came off the pages of a Vladimir Nabokov's essay or the first few paragraphs of the infamous Lolita. You loved words. You couldn't live without them. Words defined you, gave you identity, sustained your sense of self-worth, besides bringing you joys. She noticed right away your being in love with words and mentioned that to you. You smiled broadly and talked about your encounter with a cognitive scientist many moons ago.
-He wanted to know where I learned to speak English and about my education. I asked him why he wanted to know. He said that he was a cognitive scientist and he was amazed at my ability to express myself in English flawlessly and coherently. I said I still spoke English with a rather heavy accent. He laughed and said he didn't really pay attention to the accent. He was more interested how I put words together. He then told me not to worry too much about the accent. Kissinger had one, too, he reminded me. And you know what? I came back home that day, feeling good about myself, and started to learn some foreign languages by myself just to push myself linguistically. But enough talking about myself. Let's talk about you and your husband, if you don't mind.
-It's too early, don't you think?
-No, not at all. To know a person is to know to whom he or she is married, his and his spouse's occupation, his views about money, power, fame, religion and politics, and most importantly, what he lives for. Cherry, you and I are not young. We may only live for the next ten, fifteen years. Maximum. I appreciate your agreeing to meet me, to see how I actually look like and conduct myself and determine if I can be your friend, somebody you can trust. Of course, I will have to make the same decision about you. We agreed to meet because we sense, feel that the other person is worth our investment of about an hour to find out. Life is getting very short and precious for us. We must dispense with the preliminaries and zero on the essence of things. And in our case here, a determination whether we can be friends.
-OK, but you go first. I am a woman. I must be more careful. Tell me why your marriage was broken.
-I didn't really know. I just guess. She didn't tell me the reasons she left me, apart from meeting someone who is younger and "better" than me in bed. I suspect the true reasons were either more profound or prosaic. I don't know. The reasons could be that she was making more money than I did or that I talked too much and carelessly---I didn't make her proud of me. It could be any or all of these reasons and my lack of sexual prowess. I don't know, Cherry. I felt hurt a lot at first after she left, but not much anymore. I'm getting numb and accepting and cynical.
-Was she your only wife?
-Heavens, no. The third. I didn't seem to learn from experiences. But no matter. I'm learning, now. it's better late than never.
-Please tell me of your first two wives.
-There's not much to tell apart from the fact I was weak-willed, easily manipulated, and didn't listen to my intuition, my inner voice.
-Do you still love her or any of these women?
-Not really. To be honest, I don't know what Love is anymore. I used to believe in love at first sight, you know, the magic and mystery of being swept off the feet by a brief encounter; the wondrous ecstasy of being caught in a heartbeat, totally carried away by an undertow of boundless affection. But harsh realities of subsequent boorish, calculating, selfish behaviors of my beloved forced me to realize that I was hasty and stupid and naive in believing in love at first sight. The women in my past somehow sooner or later all disappointed me in showing me that they had feet of clay. In fact, I should have recognized women for who and what they are when my first love, a college girlfriend, brutally and cavalierly dumped me for a "better" prospect. But as I said, I was a very slow learner. I was dumb for being a dreamer, for swimming against the flow.
-Maybe you expected, idolized too much of certain women who crossed your path.
-Maybe. I've thought about that. I've also thought if I really had put an effort to be more successful materialistically, in having more money and power in life, maybe I would have been treated much better. Yes, I know affection tends to correlate with respect. It's hard to have affection if there's no respect. Love is just a combination of respect and affection. I've also thought whether I should change my orientation to life: paying more to the exterior and less to the interior. But then I said to my self, I am who I am. I have an overweening pride. People have to accept and love me on my own terms. I am not going to change to meet the expectations of others because I will not be who I am. A man must be comfortable as to who and what he is. But that does not mean I don't recognize that there are some areas of behavior of mine that need improvement.
-Wow, no wonder your marriages didn't last. You have pride, arrogance, and stubbornness. I hope they are justified.
-We just have to find out, don't we? It's hard to carry on in life without Pride. Of course, there are all kinds of Pride. I've met a lot of dumb asses that have an awfully high opinion of themselves. Pride and stupidity, not true courage, have accounted for a lot of homicidal incidents in the human world. Stepping on a man's pride is like stepping on a land mine. Something very explosive will occur as a consequence.
-Well, well, well, I have never met a man talking like you before. Here we are, just meeting face to face for the first time, barely knowing each other, and you already feel free to go into areas that few men would dare to go, not on a first date.
-That's me. I am impatient, impulsive, and impractical. I say things that mean a lot only to me, and not much at all to many other people. But I figure, sooner or later people would figure me out anyway. So why beat around the bush? Why don't I just come out and say precisely who and what I am, in order to save time or disappointment later on. You can always get up and say goodbye. I won't be mad. Not at all. Not really. But if you stay and talk some more...Who knows? Something magical may take place, something beautiful may unfold. I either bore and dismay the bejesus of my interlocutor or charm and bewitch the pants off her. With me, there's no middle ground. Either complete reception and receptivity or none at all.
-Well, would you like to hear about my marriage that just went kaput?
-Of course, by all means, go ahead.
-He is American. I met him in college here in the States. We went to the University of Chicago. He was tall, dark, handsome, and smart. The standard clichés. I was smitten. Plus, he paid special attention to me, treating me like a queen. I was this exotic, smart woman from China, from a family of means. I knew that I wasn't pretty or even sexy. I was just average in looks and appearances. But he assured me that I was beautiful, alluring, and sexy. There were three other males, two Chinese, and one American, competing with him for my attention and affection. I chose him because he was the best-looking and the most ardent in his pursuit of me. Yes, the sex was fantastic, as I hoped. We were happy. We got married when I was an intern. Soon we made a lot of money. He lavished it on me while I was saving most of my money. I kept my finances apart from his. He didn't mind. He made more money than I did. We have three children, all boys, all doctors, one is a cardiologist. Then about a year ago, he stopped having sex with me. I was too proud and angry to ask. I told my sons. They confronted him. He then confessed he was seeing a dental assistant at work, one of his own assistants, young enough to be his daughter. He moved out of the house a few months ago. My sons and I stopped talking to him. So you and I have something in common there.
-Yes, indeed. What could I say?
You were uncharacteristically at a loss for words. You looked at her. A woman pushing 65, her best years behind her, plain, slim, elegantly dressed, charming though guarded, seeming sincere both in manners and speech. Then you said,
-To be honest, I sense you and I have a connection somehow. Your smile. Your eyes. The way you've been listening to what I to say, said it all. I could be wrong. But I sense there's a magic in the air, and the impeccable timing of our meeting. I feel we are meeting at the right time. Our spouses both walked out on us for greener pastures, leaving us bewildered, angry and at times infuriated, but mostly cynical and wary. This is our point of commonality, our beachhead of friendship. We can heal each other by being friends. I don't and won't ask for more. I don't look far ahead in the future. I am now living one day, one week at a time.
Then you asked her if she would like to have lunch with you. She looked straight at you in the eyes, studying you, saying nothing for almost a minute. Just you were about to say she didn't have any obligation to say Yes; you would perfectly understand a No answer, she nodded her head.
You took her to an elegant Chinese restaurant at Aria Casino and Resort. She asked you what you wanted then she took over the ordering, speaking Chinese with the server. You ordered a bottle of red wine to go with the meal.
At the conclusion of the meal, you said simply that you had a very good time and hoped she did, too, and that you hoped you would hear from her again. But you didn't, you would have no hard feelings. She smiled at your last utterance, extended her hand, and said goodbye. You stood and watched her getting to her black Lexus sedan when the valet parking attendant brought it over. She turned her head back and waved at you before she got into the car. Then she drove off. You slowly walked to the self-parking garage, deep in thought. You didn't believe in valet parking, unless there was a question of pressing time or safety involved. You preferred to park your own car. You didn't trust valet parking attendants. They drove too fast. They were always in a hurry. In addition, they might steal your valuables you carelessly left in the car. Life had taught you to be wary of human avarice. Most humans (about 80 %) you knew were plain animals and scumbags and deserved to be exterminated like vermin. Once you realized that, you were not surprised at the cruel things humans inflicting on one another. Man is a strange species indeed: self-conflicting, incomplete, and vastly different among themselves in terms of abilities and sensibilities. You suspect that humans are not born equal. Some are much more developed and evolved than most others. You think that most humans are no different than chimpanzees in terms of intellect and feelings: all raw and primitive and instinctual. In them there are none of the hallmarks that mark the exalting status of Human as the primary organism on this planet: intellectual curiosities, artistic sensibilities, and moral imperatives. In other words, most humans are simply animalistic and not human yet.
Days rolled by and became weeks. No call from her. You were already mentally and emotionally prepared for this. Usually, if they didn't call by the third week, they would never call. You, of course, would not call or text her. You already told her you had a lot of Pride. Meanwhile you decided to use your encounter of her as a catalyst to embark on a serious task of learning Chinese. You were determined to make the best of the situation. You were determined to make the best of the situation, just like decades ago you set out to learn French when you were swept off your feet by a female lycée student with pretty oval face and long flowing hair.
You had a competitive spirit; you were not easily awed of signs of excellence, but not envious either. You respected facts and truths. You were into knowledge and self-improvement. You feared and hated being loud and lazy, fat and stupid like so many human simians dwelling in that pit of degeneration. Anyway, Chinese was a very difficult language for you to tackle. Its tones don't sound the same as your native Vietnamese. It is replete and freighted with homonyms. And of course its writing system is exceedingly difficult to master. Even its syntax is not similar to the Vietnamese one. But somehow you were fascinated with Chinese. And you found a new pleasure in learning the language. Perhaps at this stage, it was late to learn Chinese, but like almost everything else in your life, the timing was off, but you consoled yourself that it was late than never. In your life, in looking back, things happened for a reason, all karmic relationships, and not acidental as they appeared at first blush. Character is Fate.
You buried yourself in learning Chinese during those three weeks after meeting Cherry. You were not in love with her or anything remotely like that. She was okay and guarded. The only interesting thing about her was that she was a Chinese-born physician who was dumped by her American dentist husband. You found her ordinary but not offensive. She watched her money and she liked sex, she said. She didn't brag or come across unduly arrogant or stuck up with herself. You really didn't worry or feel concerned what she thought of you. You were completely being your authentic, nonconformist, mildly abrasive self. And if she determined that you were just too off-the-wall, far-from-the left-field for her, that was okay. That would be her loss.
She called you on the 22nd day after the first date. It was late, almost 10 in the evening on a Thursday, you recalled. Yes, you were getting mildly antsy.
-You are a person of your word. You said you wouldn't call me. And you didn't. Are you waiting for me to call?
-Yes. Everyday.
-Really? Why?
-Well, as I said at our last meeting, I am into feelings, intuition, and simple but genuine friendship. I truly feel we can be friends, of use to each other. But I won't push the issue. Maybe I am a coward, but I let you dictate the terms and the speed. You're the driver. I am just a tag-along passenger, but you will find me an entertaining, unforgettable passenger.
-You're quite an egocentric, idiosyncratic fellow, do you know that?
-That and a damn good friend to a right person ( She laughed to that lightning-fast repartee, riposte, reply, rejoinder of yours. That was a good sign. Anytime you could make a woman laugh, you are almost at the half-point mark of conquering her heart). Anyway, seriously, I am very glad you called. I had a bad day and needed to unburden myself.
-What happened?
-Well, as I was exiting the parking garage this late afternoon, I was hit very lightly from behind when I stopped to insert my parking ticket into the time slot. I got out of the car to inspect for any damage. There was a slight, almost invisible dent at the bumper, that was not worth the hassle. Still, I walked to the car behind me with the intention to admonish the driver for being negligent. But lo and the behold, the female driver loudly denied hitting me and started cursing at me. I was furious and enraged. The first thought that hit me was that of a homicidal nature. If I had been in a deserted place, with no would-be eyewitnesses galore, I would have acted on my impulse. I was tired of insolent, stupid young monkeys. But I was not in a deserted place, so I pulled myself together, and calmly told her that she ought to be ashamed of herself for being a cheap, low-class, white trash tart. My comment brought on a stream of furious, racial epithets from her. Impatient honks from cars behind us rang out in the garage. A bright-eyed, young black attendant rushed over and asked me what had transpired. I calmly told him the situation.
He pulled me aside and said, "Sir, you either pull your car aside, call the cops, and settle the dispute or suck it up and move on and forget this trivial matter. I humbly and respectfully ask you to consider the second scenario as the cops, especially if they are white, may side with her and that really would ruin your day. We must pick our battles wisely, especially now Trump is the King of the Land, lending support to and conferring legitimacy on racism and fascism. I keep reminding myself that everyday. I am concerned that a new civil war is coming. I fear for the collapse of American Liberal Democracy."
I was dumbfounded. I couldn't believe that I was hearing all this from a young black parking attendant. I wanted to congratulate him for being articulate and politically astute, but I was concerned that I might come across patronizing so I just shook his hand, thanked him, got back to my car, raised my middle finger to the offensive, stupid, little white whore driver, and drove off.
I drove home slowly deep in thought. I had a vision that the whole incident at the garage was a waning sign to me. For the last ten years, I have been attuned to signs and symptoms of precognition and my life has become much better. So when I pulled into my parking slot, I took the Glock out of the glove compartment. I didn't want to drive around with a gun in my car anymore. I put the gun in my bedside night table.
I then jumped into the bathtub, soaking myself, closing my eyes, replaying the garage incident in my mind, and opening myself to possibilities and suggestions. I was in and out of consciousness and active dreaming and meditating.After being in the bathtub for about an hour, I slowly got out. All my movements were super-slow. I took deep breaths. Then I opened the fridge, got a bottle of Heineken, grabbed banana and a handful of toasted peanuts in the shell, turned on the movie "Collateral", set the caption in Spanish, and watched it while going the email. The movie had just ended when you called. I was glad that you called. I needed to talk about the garage incident. Are you still there?
-Of course, I am still here. Wow, what a story. Is your life full of drama like that?
-Cherry, things always happen to us. It's up to us to draw their significance. What is considered drama or melodrama for some folks, may just mean nothing at all or simple annoyances to others.
-Does everything have to become issues of philosophy for you? Tell me, please, what do you live for. I've wanted to know what you live for since I met you.
-How much do I have? What's time is it now? Do you work tomorrow?
-No, I do not. Take as much time as you need. How about you? Do you work tomorrow?
-I work everyday. But I set my own hours. I am very glad you asked the question as it is truly the kind of question that few humans dare to pose and fewer still to confront. To wrestle with the question is to reveal who we really are as thinking, feeling, functioning humans, and not as damned stupid monkeys hollering and chattering away our lives on this beautiful planet. I submit that vast majority of humans, as I stated to you when we first met a few weeks ago, are just plain animals and no more. They live entirely on instinct and biological imperatives and behave no differently from monkeys and chimps. In them there are no higher impulses for morality, for love, for knowledge, for creativity. So, to answer your question, I live as a true human should live. I don't live for power, money, fame or glory. Instead, I live for morality, love, knowledge, and self-actualization, always striving being as best as I can while avoiding giving into the increasing urge to exterminate certain assholes and motherfuckers that have crossed my path. In me me there's always a war between a love for people in the abstract and young animals like human toddlers, puppies, kittens, little chicks and ducklings, and a deep hatred for certain kinds of human animals.
-Roberto, thanks for sharing your thoughts with me. You're either a sane, very honest man or a very disturbed man. Tell me, have you ever treated for mental disorders? Don't get mad at me for posing the question. I just want to get to know you in depth. You're an unusual man, to say the least. The more I talk to you, the more I get sucked into a vortex of strangeness and yet I feel there must be some truth in the journey that you are taking.
-I am always after Truth and Knowledge and yes, Love, but Love is much harder to attain than the other two because it's contingent more on external factors than our own intrinsic abilities. You can always get Truth and Knowledge on your own if you are intelligent and persistent.
No, I have never been treated for mental illness. I don't need to. Nobody knows about me than I myself. I read quite a bit and know about the Human Mind, especially its aberrations than most lay people., I can assure you.
Cherry, in order to know me, you need to get onto my blog and read what I have written or posted in there plus watching the movies "Solace" starring Anthony Hopkins, and "The Sixth Sense" starring Bruce Willis. A word of warning, though. Once you really get to know me, you might not help but fall in love with me. This is not Ego talking, but a very strong possibility, just based on past experiences.
Now, tell me something. May I call you from time to time, when I feel a need of some real human interaction? Can I do that?
There was a slight hesitation and then she said, "Please call me only in the weekends, after 9 pm. I am usually tied up at other times. I will talk to you later. Goodnight! "
So she terminated the conversation there and then. A strange woman, no less strange than you but not stranger, not by any stretch of imagination.
You supposed you messed up Cherry's mind quite a bit with the way you answered her rather abrupt and quite rude inquiry into the state of your mental health. You made ít clear while you liked her, you were speaking to her at least as her equal, if not more. You established the ground rules at the outset. More importantly, as always, what you told her was true and factual. Over the years, you were tired of people's presupposition that your uncommonness, your lack of ordinariness meant sickness. To be different did not necessarily mean to be sick. The common folks did not have access to prescience, intuition, and precognition into realities, of which you had quite plenty. Your only problem was that you had an unreserved and loud contempt for superstition, lies, deception, and games. You should be more discreet and quiet. There was no need to make enemies. You should have more Love, instead of Contempt, in your heart for those who were inferior (but stubborn and loud-mouthed) to you. You already knew most humans you ran into didn't want to accept the fact that they were stupid, ill-informed, and fucking superstitious to the core, despite all the evidence that was clear as clear as daylight. They had to protect their petty, fragile, little ego.
A sad thing that most ordinary humans don't realize that a stupid, ill-informed, and superstitious human is not really human. He or she is just an animal, pure and simple, that can't appreciate finer and more subtle things in life, and can't reason at a higher level than just common sense. He does not know that Reality is Common Sense and More. "More" means the ceaseless inquiry into what's going on behind the Veil of Appearance. He does not really want the logical and scientific answers to the questions Why and How. Any fool knows about What, and When.
A fool's existence is meaningless. He lives as an animal and will die as an animal. Being human is something very foreign to him. But he does not know that. He labors under an illusion and delusion that he is a human just because he has a human appearance. One is never born a human. One is only born as a potential human One becomes human. For most folks, the process of becoming truly human was closed to them at an early age, by having stupid parents or being exposed to deleterious environment or the combination of the two. So they consequently listened to and believed in the bullshit peddled by their religious and political mind controllers.
(Tô be continued)
No comments:
Post a Comment