Misery of the Monkeys, A Love Story
"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 (a. 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 else 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 fraught 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, response, 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 behold, the female driver loudly denied hitting me and started cursing at me. I was furious and infuriated. 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 warning 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 a 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 through 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 time do I have? What 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 a 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 in to the increasing urge to exterminate certain assholes and motherfuckers that have crossed my path. In 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 been 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 better 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 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 is 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 would know 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.
Days rolled by. And the weekend came. You used to hate Fridays, but you learned to cope with the feeling of loneliness, and with lousy TV programming on Friday evenings, by keeping very busy. You went to the gym. You were making slow but steady progress with a language in East Asia. But you were still debating with yourself whether you should call Cherry. You felt if you didn't call, that would be regarded quite cavalier by her. So at 9:15 pm on the next day, you called her. The phone rang and rang. You had been prepared for that and had a rehearsed voicemail message ready when she picked up the phone.
-Hi Cherry (you tried to inject a cheerful, friendly tone in your voice. Pride was an ancient enemy of yours). This is Roberto. Can we talk?
-(A slight hesitation) Sure. What's going on?
-Nothing's going on, really. I just want to pick up where we left off last time, conversation-wise, if that's all right with you.
-Sure.
-Are you sure? You're sounding laconic and reticent.
-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give off that impression. I've been thinking about you and what I would say if you call. You were talking about your sensing there was something magical about our meeting each other. I didn't know it was only a hyperbolic statement, something you are accustomed to making, or you were being sincere. I am a doctor, a scientist. I believe in facts. I'm practical. I don't give much credence to dreams. To me, they are just wishful thinking. And yet, with you, I somehow feel either I should stay away from you now or prepare myself for something turbulent down the road. I hate feeling vulnerable and uncertain.
-Cherry, thanks for being candid. I appreciate that. I understand what you're saying. But don't you worry about me being a pest. You should know that by now. You are a smart, no-nonsense woman. In our last conversation, you asked me what I lived for, but we never got around talking about what you live for. Can we go there now?
-Sure, I'm much more simple than you. I want to have a comfortable life, respected by people, have children, and die of old age.
-That's it?
-Yes, that's it. Life is already complicated. Why make it more complicated?
-I beg to differ. It's not a question of making it more complicated. It's about making it meaningful and consonant with our existence as conscious, responsible, human beings. To be born as a human is an awesome and most beautiful event as we are the apex being on this planet. It's our responsibility to savor and make the most of that experience, that being the apex being, the top predator that shapes this planet. I don't know. I just feel I must be doing something with my life, with being more involved than just having children and being respected and living as long as possible. In other words, I feel I must be making a difference in the lives of my relatives and then to my people and country, if it's at all possible while at the same time actualizing the special potential I have. And that means being the writer and the student of languages.
-What about Romantic Love. Don't you find it important?
-Of course it is, but I think it's something that is not always under my control. There's an element of luck and the unpredictability of the Other Person. We both knew about that. You didn't expect your husband cheated on you. And I didn't expect my wife would walk out on me for a younger man. Love is important, but it is over-rated and unreliable. Self-Respect and Self-Actualization are much more important.
-Have you really loved anybody?
- Yes, I have. My first love. A college classmate. It was a long time ago, and yet sometimes a certain song still evokes memories and sadness. But I don't dwell in the past anymore. I finally have grown up. I made mistakes. Big mistakes. I was naive and stupid and idealistic. If I need an outlet for Love, there's always a dog or charitable work.
-What about Loneliness. Do you feel lonely?
-Not much anymore. Loneliness stems from a need to be understood and appreciated. I think people would be happier if they understand that in the dynamics of human interactions, Respect and Power are much more important than Love. But since Love seems easier to get than Power and Respect so people talk about Love more. Besides, Love is so easily confused with Sex. I think Man is driven more by Power than by Love.
-Why is it so?
-I think it has something to do with Survival and Resources. That's why Politics arouses so much passion. Politics is about seizing and keeping Power.
Cherry, if I have some real power of life and death over certain individuals, I would be more balanced and peaceful than I am now. You've got to understand that there are some deep-seated reasons why Violence is part and parcel of the human world. A wise man, and I am not, is the one who keeps his mouth shut most of the time and only speaks when absolutely necessary. And when he does, he ensures that he's incurring no enmity. Respect, Power, and Violence are all intertwined. An insecure and stupid man tends to make noises. Not a wise man. A wise man prefers Silence and he conserves Energy. He knows Sarcasm is just a stupid and ill-disguised attempt of asserting Power. He understands Honey, not Vinegar, is the thing that would catch flies.
I talk too much, as usual. I'd better stop and let you go. Thanks for listening. Good night.
-No, don't go away. Not yet. You seem to be so angry, so full of bile and venom. Have you ever thought to seek Peace in Religion? I am a Catholic, as I told you. Not a deeply religious woman. Not a fanatic who believes in the inerrancy of the Bible. But I always experience Peace when I am in church. Being there gives me a sense of Solace, especially after my husband moved out of the house.
-Cherry, I am so glad your Faith gives you Peace. Me, I am not like you. You say you are a doctor, a scientist, but your behavior is pretty much of an unlettered peasant. I am not a scientist by profession, but I think like a true one. I subscribe to verified and verifiable facts and embrace rigorous reasoning process.
A long time ago, when Religion started out, it was indistinguishable from Philosophy and Science. It wanted to know Truths, the Why and the How. As time passed, it allied itself with Politics, and parted ways with Philosophy and Science. It is no longer concerned with Truths. It is only after seizing and maintaining Power. It has become corrupt and a tool of Politics.
Look at the Vatican. It is nothing but an empire in disguise, a cesspool of corruption, a purveyor of Ignorance and Willful Delusions and Self-Deception. It is a gross and contemptible embodiment of Hypocrisy. I am not saying it's the only hypocritical "religious" organization, but it is the most well-known and the most blatant.
At least Politics, its slogans anyway, is a bit more honest and upfront. It makes no bones about its ultimate objective, that is, to seize Power and the fruits that Power generates. To my way of thinking, Politics is much more important than Religion because it's concerned with the here and now; with Power, Life and Death; and with Justice, Provable Facts, and Truths. Religion, on the other hand, is just bullshit, a palliative, a pie in the sky, a fairy tale that only fools would take seriously.
Those who preach that Religion is holy and noble, and that Philosophy and Politics must be subservient to Religion are a bunch of bullshitters and liars and mind controllers who want to control and dominate and subjugate the common folks who are mostly stupid, ignorant, and can't think for themselves.
Cherry, you are too smart for that. You are a doctor, for Pete's sake!
Cherry, to live is not always to seek Solace and Peace. That could be just avoiding the real mission in life, which is to fight for Freedom, Liberty, and to uplift, not to exploit, those who are less fortunate than us in terms of intellect and wealth. Are you listening to me? Do you understand what I'm trying to say? Nothing in life, especially Social Justice, would change unless we make it change.
I like you Cherry. I don't know exactly why. Maybe I sense something in you that I like. But I have to be honest with you in everything. I have a very strong sense of Self. Maybe I'm still suffering from some lingering and unacknowledged inferiority complex, but I happen to think I am a thinker and accessible to some fundamental truths that are not useful to everyday, practical living, but are vital as to how I view myself, to my self-perception. These truths provide me with a strength to go on living. I repeat, I don't live, as most humans do, for Money, Power, Fame, but for Love, Knowledge, and Responsibility. I know some of my words spoken this evening might have hurt your feelings, but they reflect who I am at the unvarnished level. In fact, unlike most men, I don't present myself at any varnished level. I am always raw, unadorned, unpretentious, knowledge-hungry, proud, and can be arrogant. Sometimes I wish I could just be silent, a total mute. In life sooner or later people would disappoint us. I know that I may or in fact will or even shall disappoint you. And you to me. We have to prepare ourselves for such an eventuality. We exist in life not to meet others' expectations or expect others to meet ours, but to act fairly and responsibly while not letting our own disappointments drag us down. We must have a strong sense of Self. Life is short. There is no point to be unhappy because of others. We must generate our own happiness.
-Wow! What you just said broke wide open my predicament about you. I have to admit that I'm attracted to you but I'm concerned that our relationship is doomed from the start, that it wouldn't last.
-Is that's what's worrying you? Well, let me put to you like this. We don't know what Life actually is until we experience it. Of course, we have to be careful and cautious and should not step on emotional and financial land mines and get blown up. But in our case, you worry too much. As I told you from the outset, the real concern we must face is whether we can be real friends to each other, whether we understand and trust and respect or care for each other. I have established from the outset that for me, Experience is what I'm after. I am interested in you as a friend to whom I can talk and I hope you view me the same way. I am not after your body or your money. That's too crass. I'm lonely sometimes and want an audience. And I think you are in the same situation. I don't plan and look far into the future like you do. I'm not a planner. I improvise, go with the flow, adapt and adjust while soaking life experiences. I have only one life to live. And Time is running out. As you can see, I have given you space. I don't crowd you. I don't chase you although I sense there's something good and stable and decent in you. I let you dictate the tempo. Think hard what I said this evening and call me back if you wish to proceed. Do you know Bruce Springsteen? Please get on YouTube and look up the song Dancing in the Park. See if you like music and the lyrics. I like the song tremendously. I like its upbeat, pulsating, life-affirming rhythm and funky, punchy lyrics. The lyrics don't describe everything about me, but come pretty damned close in summarizing my outlook on life. "You can't make a fire without a spark." Of course, when you make a fire, be sure to watch it closely; don't let it turn into a conflagration. I like fires, though. I just do. I know I am not the only one. Many humans like them, too. I hope you do. Good night.
With that you clicked off the phone. You knew I had a foot-and-mouth disease. You talked too much. And you tended to put your foot in your mouth. But that was you. A man must be true to himself at all times. He could and should, if he must, be phony occasionally to others, but to himself he must be true, otherwise alienation would occur. You knew you might have pissed off Cherry with your frank and perhaps brutal words. But that was you, always bent on going against the flow, on hurting yourself, on making yourself less attractive than you really were. You used to be bothered and haunted by lost loves, but not anymore. Now your sense of Self was stronger thanks to years of working on your mind and body. If things were not meant to be, they would not come about. The only thing that really troubled you was your innate desire for vengeance against various assholes that had done you wrong. You had to keep my vengeful impulse in check. To live was to learn how to deal with animals. A wise man knew this right away. A fool like you had to learn from trial and error. Repeatedly. Yes, you had some regrets of how your life had turned out, but you supposed you were coping quite well with the regrets. Life was meant to look forward and made the most of what was left of it for you. You reckoned you had about twenty years left in you
You knew people want to be entertained, not enlightened, when talking to you. Nobody wanted to be lectured, challenged, pushed to examine the basis of their living, the meaning of their being on this planet. You were smart enough to be aware of human avoidance of real, fundamental issues of life. But you were not disciplined not to talk about that. You had an inferiority complex. You wanted to come across as a smart, knowledgeable dude. You wanted to be a bore, a smart aleck in conversations. That was you. You wanted to skate on thin ice, to come edge to the abyss, to set yourself on fire. You wanted to look for Love in reverse.
Anyway, after you clicked off the phone, you made up your mind there and then not to call Cherry ever again. If she wished to talk to you, she knew how to reach you. You somehow reverted to the misanthropic mood that you thought you had shed; you were back to your syncopated, restless, homicidal frame of mind. And you had learned that, from past experiences, if you were in such a mood, you were better off avoiding people as best as you could, lest you would hurt them and yourself. You were never an easy and breezy guy, even when you were in a manic phase. You were never misogynistic; you were too much a romantic guy to be afflicted with misogyny. But you were discovering that lately you tended to move on decisively after a romantic break-up, without regrets, without second-guessing yourself. You were losing faith in the milk of human kindness; you were getting jaundiced.
So you became less sociable, talked less and was more sardonic and laconic when you had to be communicative.
You also spend more time at the gym and the library. The gym for your body and the library for your mind. Whenever things were out of joint in your mind, you sought refuge in the library where the sight of books-- the fountain of knowledge, and the peace and quiet calmed you down and restored your balance. The sight of humans reading and soaking in knowledge always made you get in touch with the noble part of you.
It was at the gorgeous, new, spacious library on Windmill street that you ran into her on a Saturday afternoon. After spending time at the gym doing laps in the pool, you headed to the library with the intention of spending an hour or so at the magazines section. Lo and behold, who else but her sitting in an armchair reading a National Geographic Magazine. This was definitely a moment of Serendipity, you told yourself. Fuck Pride, you talked to yourself. Seize the moment, go for the brass ring, that was the only way you would find out. Shit, it had been almost three weeks since you last talked to her. You didn't know what to make of it. You half-wanted her, half-avoided her. The tension, the indecisiveness was killing you.
You marched straight to her and stood in front of her, and said nothing. After a few seconds, she looked up.
-Oh hi, what are you doing here?
- Standing in front of you and wondering what's going on in that little heart of mine, and maybe in yours, too.
-I beg your pardon?
-Would you like to go outside and talk with me for a few minutes?
She and you walked out of the reading section and to the vending machines area where there were tables and chairs. You bought two coffees.
-So, what do you think?
-Of what?
-Of my running into you here, the last place on earth I would think I would find you.
-Were you looking for me?
-Yes and No.
-Aha.
-Cherry, seriously, there's hardly a day passing by that I don't think of you, of the possibilities waiting for us as well as of the obstacles between us. I wanted to reach out to you and pour out my heart to you, but I was afraid of Rejection, of being scolded and lectured. So I let Fate and Serendipity determine and dictate what would happen to me and you. You might think our running into each other here was only a matter of Coincidence, of Random Chance. I think differently. I am of the opinion that it was Predestination, Fate, and a Sign of Cosmic Significance. Of course, I could be all wrong. Tell me if I am wrong. If I am wrong, I will march out of here and leave you alone and undisturbed for the rest of your life. Shit, I've left you alone for three long miserable weeks. I will delete your phone number. I might even flee to Mexico just to get away from you, from my weak, romantic heart.
-Roberto, tell me straight and no bullshit, what you think of me, do you like me?
-You are a strong, nice, honest, no-nonsense lady and I'd like you to be my friend, possibly for life. How about you, what do you think of me?
-Unstable, vulnerable, romantic, decent, very strange and unusual fellow.
-That's all?
-What more do you want?
-What's about your being my friend?
-Roberto, you know and I know there is rarely a Platonic friendship between a man and a woman. Either they are casual acquaintances or committed lovers. I am fond of you but I am cautious by nature. I am not like you, lightning and thunder right away. I am a slow but steady fire. Let's be friends first. We just met, not too long ago. Haste makes waste. Now, are you hungry? Let's go eat. Pick a restaurant you like. I'll pay. Now that will probably answer your question about whether or not I like you. You're a prick, do you know that? You should have called.
So, Cherry and you became "friends". It has been going on for five years now. She is fair and principled. You are impulsive and restless. She has mothered you and protected you. You have become calmer and less suicidal and homicidal. Meanwhile you are learning Chinese like crazy. Recently you were foolish to take up Japanese. It is ten times more difficult than Chinese. You now almost have no time for anything else. Cherry and Languages take up most of your time. You must be crazy for devoting to both. But a man must answer to the calls from deep within himself.
You have not heard from your wife who walked out on you. She has not sent you divorce papers. And Cherry has not heard from her dentist husband either.
Silence runs deep in the universe.
July 1, 2017
No comments:
Post a Comment