You die, I die, everybody dies

You die, I die, everybody dies
If not yet, we will eventually
So don’t cry
Meanwhile
Please smile and be nice
While we are still alive
Better yet, be kind
To me
Tell me you care
Tell me against your will
You think of me
Day and night 
Tell me you love me, especially in the still
Of the night or early in the morning
When you wake up
And the first thing 
You do is to softly call my name
And wonder if I love you, too. 
Life is short
Seize the day
Come fly with me

Wissai
July 20, 2019

Life, Love, and Loneliness (revised and expanded)

Life, Love, and Loneliness (revised and expanded) 

Tammy called me up just as I was about to close ”the office” down and called it a day. She said she must come over and see me at once. She couldn’t wait. I told her that unscheduled session for after hours would cost her one and half rate of the usual consultation fee. She said she didn’t care and would be in my office in thirty minutes. 

I have a counseling business. I untangle the entanglements of the human heart and to ease the burdens on the human mind. The business is not thriving. Most of my clients are women and I get them through word of mouth. I don't advertise my business as I don't have a professional license and I don't want to pay taxes. All the transactions are on cash basis. I keep no records. And my ”office” is actually my spare bedroom functioning as my study where I keep books and do my writing. Tammy has been a client for many years.

She arrived all excited and smiling. 

-I have a new boyfriend and he will fly in tomorrow. 

-Congratulations! So what's the problem? Is he married or what? 

-Give me a break! I’m not that type. I ain't no home wrecker. I want to show you his photos on Facebook and his texts and then please tell me what you think of him. 

I must admit that I was impressed by Tammy. She was no raving beauty and not of much education and money, but she seemed to catch boyfriends left and right. The problem was that they didn't last, and not because of her inadequacies in bed. Once, she grinned in telling me she knew the ”Art of Pleasure” and wasn't unfamiliar with Kama Sutra. She even tried to come on strong to me, but I deftly deflected her advances. She wasn't my type. Too materialistic, too connivimg, too unstable. She was a devotee of Tantric Buddhism and a rather generous disciple and supporter of a Tibetan monk. I didn't want to tell her that the monk was taking her and her fellow disciples for a carpet ride. She didn't ask for my advice about the matter and my attitude was that if people wanted to be exploited, that was their problem, not mine. I myself was a victim of exploitation many times, though not in religious matters, and thus should refrain from dissing out unsolicited advice. There are matters a human must learn on his own. 

After studying the photos and the texts, I spoke:

-Congratulations again. He’s even younger than you. That’s a plus. The guy is legit. He has a good job, a manager with a good company. The company is very big, although the business is in a downturn because of the decline of the price of oil. Regardless, the company is too big to fail. And the business is going to bounce back. It looks like there will be a shooting war with Iran anytime now. Plus, that war in Yemen must come to a conclusion. It can't go on forever. The shooting on oil tankers and the bombing on oil pipelines and terminals will resume. That will make the Iraq-Iran War 40 years ago a child’s play. That’s going to drive up the price of oil sky high. But how did you meet this guy?

-On Facebook. He was following me for some time and insisted on being my friend. I was reluctant at first. He lives far away and seems to be way above me in education and money. But he persisted. I finally gave in. I figured I had nothing to lose but time. And then lo and behold, he’s been coming on strong, too strong, as a matter of fact. 

-Listen, Tammy, I’m going to speak frankly. That’s what you’re paying me for. The man is impulsive, lonely, and a very good catch for you. He’s falling hard for you. But, based on your romantic history, you must ask yourself a question whether or not you really care about the guy or he is just a financial savior for you. Everything has a price. Sometimes the price is very high. This guy is serious, emotional, and not quite stable. You must treat him with devotion and tender loving care. Don't use him. Don't play with him, otherwise he may flip out and liable to do something stupid. 

-But how the hell you know all this, just from looking at the photos and reading some texts?

-I just know. Call it a gift. That’s why you’ve been coming here for advice and counsel. I’ve been right. And you know it. You know I know something about the human heart. 

-You’re scaring me. Should I tell him not to come?

-That question indicates you aren't that serious with him. No, you can't just tell him not to come. That's too late now. Let him come. You will know if he really turns you on. 

-Let me ask you a question, if I may.

-Go head. What is it?

-Don't get mad. But I always wonder, if you’re really so knowledgeable about the human heart, then how come you're lonely and don't have a girlfriend. I've followed your blogs. I've read your posts on the Net. 

-You are here to talk about your problem, not mine. And you are aware that you are paying for my time. Right? I don't feel comfortable talking with you about myself and then charging you for it. It just isn't right. We can talk about it if we are out on social chitchat. 

-In that case, would you like to be at dinner with us when my boyfriend is here? Please come. I want you to meet him. I’m willing to pay for your time.

-Let me think about it. You don't have to pay for my time while I have dinner with you and your boyfriend. Congratulations again on having a new boyfriend. Be nice and gentle with him, please. 

A week later, Tammy called me again shortly after the crack of dawn and wanted to see me as soon as I was available in the morning. She sounded disturbed. 

When she arrived at 9 am, she looked bad. She looked like she was not sleeping well. She lost weight and and looked wan, despite the make-up. There was no usual zest in the way she moved. Something was seriously wrong in the span of seven days. She flopped down in the armchair and started crying right away. I let her cry. That went on for at least five solid minutes. Then suddenly, she stopped crying and glared at me.

-Why the fuck are you just sitting there and not asking me why I’m crying? What KIND of counselor are YOU? 

-Easy now. Watch your language. One more outburst like that and you’re out of here. I like the money you’re paying me, but I’m not starving. I won’t take any abuse from you or from anybody. Is that clear?

-I’m sorry (she then resumed crying) 

-So, what’s wrong?

-Everything.

-Everything? Including the dinner?

-No, the dinner was fine, but things went down hill from there. He flew in as he said he would. I picked him up. He was glad to see me, at least that was the impression I got. We then went to dinner. I stupidly asked him if it was OK for you to come along. He said No, and three would be a crowd. He interrogated me why I needed to see a counselor and how long I’ve been seeing you. So I backed off, coming up with an excuse that I was proud of him and wanted to show him off to you. Anyway, he took me to a Chinese restaurant. I acted cheerful and happy, but I was getting bad vibes. I was not confident to ask him how I looked to him, whether I looked like he expected me to. I know I’m not drop dead gorgeous or anything like that and my pictures are always better than I really am. I didn’t eat much. I was nervous. Roberto, the guy was great. He looked much better in person. I was wondering if he really fell for me because he could easily get women much better than me.

Anyway, we got home. Both of us took a shower, not together, though I wanted to. That would have been awesome and romantic, like in a movie. When he came out of the shower and was in shorts and T-shirt, my heart skipped so many beats that I thought I would have a heart-attack. And then of course we jumped into bed. He was quite kinky, which sort of delighted me, but then the bad vibes I picked up during the dinner didn’t go away. Then he predictably rolled over and soon snored while my mind was racing ten thousand miles per hour. I was wondering what the hell I got myself into and what was happening to my Prince Charming who had texted me fantastic messages declaring burning, unquenchable love for me. 

Things got weird and surreal in the morning. He got dressed in a hurry, claiming that he got a text from his boss that something had happened and he was required to be back in the office as soon as possible. I wanted to see the text, but he refused to show me his phone. I wanted to scream and curse at him, but I controlled myself. I cried instead. But that didn’t work. He still didn’t let me to read the stupid text. What really pissed me off was that he looked cold and unconcerned. I drove him back to the airport. We didn’t talk much. I felt hurt and confused and angry. I felt used and then discarded like a piece of garbage. At the pasenger drop-off area, he leaned over, gave me a quick kiss on the lips and rushed out of the car. I knew then it would be the last time I saw him. Still, I texted him a good flight wish. No reply from him that day and none in the following six days, including today, despite my sending him at least ten texts, the last two were quite nasty. Roberto, I’m feeling dirty; I’m feeling like a cheap whore. The bastard spent a few hundred dollars on airfare just to have one-night stand with me. 

Roberto, why couldn’t I keep my men? What is wrong with me?

-I’m very sorry to hear what was happening to you. This is going to sound trite, but you must learn to look at things from a glass half-full point of view. At least the guy didn't physically hurt you or steal money from you. I don't know what went wrong. Like you, I could only guess. And my guess may be just as good as yours. So I’m going to speak in generalities. Use whatever you think applicable or useful. 

You are only 50 years old. You have a lot of good years left with you. You can turn your life around. Not me. I’m 70. I have only a few years left. I’m coasting to a dusty death. I’m preparing for death so when right before it comes, I won't get too uptight or panicky. I want to die with dignity. My friends are dropping dead left and right. And all of the sudden, I realize that Fame or Power or even Money don’t count much. What really counts in Life, and especially in old age, is Love. 

I am a late bloomer. Wisdom came to me late. After failures in multiple marriages and dozens of romantic liaisons, I came to recognize certain verities. Be honest. Be kind. Be mysterious a little so people feel intrigued and won't take you for granted. 

Also command Respect from others by respecting yourself and others. Nobody would love you if they don’t respect or admire you first. Be dignified. Be fair. Don’t be cheap. Keep your word. Make yourself lovable and loving. Don’t be needy. Be upbeat and pleasant to be around. Avoid cheap shots and sarcasm and obvious, stupid, clumsy flattery.

Remember, you are not bad physically and you brag that you know how to satisfy a man in bed. Everybody is lonely. Everybody wants to be respected. True Love is not easy to come by and harder to keep. To get Love, you must have a lot of Love inside you. That means you must learn to give more of yourself, and not to take, not to ask for things from others. Maybe the guy was scared and ran away because you viewed him as your financial savior. It was way too early for you to do that. Very few men like to be Sugar Daddy. You don’t turn down what people want to offer you voluntarily, but don’t ask and don’t beg. Don’t be a beggar. That’s demeaning and degrading. Walk tall, but don’t be full of Anger or Undue Pride. Remember, people owe you nothing, least of all Happiness. Be nice, but don’t be a sucker.

To conclude, humans are social animals. We need help, support, encouragement, comfort and somebody to share our feelings. That’s why Love is more important than Sex. Sex gets old after a while. But Love stays forever, even long after we die. 

Now go find another man. Learn from your mistakes. Don’t be too pushy. Good luck. 

Wissai 

July 13, 2019. 

Ainsi Parlait/Thus Spoke/Así Dijo Wissai

wissai.wordpress.com

canngon.blogspot.com

Human Preoccupation of Sex and Power

Human Preoccupation with Sex and Power

I don’t know about you, but I have found recent Fall from Grace of several American men of Big Power and Colossal Wealth a tad sad and pathetic. For all of their intelligence, they couldn’t escape the snare of the flesh. Don’t take me wrong. I’m not having one of those vicarious Schadenfreude thrills watching these men losing their dignity in a big and public way. I suppose they all thought they could get away with their indulgences even if they violated the laws and morality in doing so. Talk about Hubris! Excess is always bad.

I have a feeling that these men lack imagination and creativity. They cannot fantasize. They must satisfy their deep, dark desires by acting on them They couldn’t be like Vladimir Nabokov who in the infamous and famous novel Lolitaboldly skated on thin ice by penning an artistic narrative of a debauched though loquacious middled-aged man falling for a pre-pubescent 12-year-old girl. The novel is considered by literary critics one of the best ever written. It made the author rich and famous and enabled him to retire from teaching literature. The author was Russian but his English was beyond wonderful: rich, marvelous, intricate, and beautiful. And there was not a single dirty word in the book. The novel was about Love, though sick, not Sex.

Sex, to these fallen American men, involves not mere Lust and probably has to do with Power. It has been widely known that Rape has very little to do with Lust but a lot with Power. That is sad. Sex, to Human, should be intricately and intrinsically linked with Love for it to be viewed as beautiful and to set Human apart from lower forms of Life. I may be old-fashioned and that is how I always view Sex. 

A person’s attitude about Sex says a great deal about his dark self. The other day, a dirty old man of 85 years old complimented me for always being proper with women. Stunned, I asked him how the hell that he knew that about me. He smiled and said that he watched me. He added that he was different. He enjoyed talking dirty with women, he disclosed. He then narrated how he and a short Latina woman endowed with gigantic butt and bust whom I happened to know (not biblically), loved exchanging dirty double entendres. He then dropped a bombshell that she once even groped him albeit quickly and not in plain public view, just to test his reactions. I didn’t say anything. I was just listening spell-bound to his story-telling. But I had to admit that the man was healthy and virile and didn’t look his age at all. He walked briskly and had a very lively mind. A strong sex drive is a sign of robust health. The man also had money. He just sold all his real estate holdings and signed off on a year-round cruise in perpetuity so he could eat and drink well and hit on lonely, wealthy widows.

Wissai

July 12, 2019

Revised Life, Love, and Loneliness

Life, Love, and Loneliness (Revised. Typos cleaned up) 

Tammy called me up just as I was about to close ”the office” down and called it a day. She said she must come over and see me at once. She couldn’t wait. I told her that unscheduled session for after hours would cost her one and half rate of the usual consultation fee. She said she didn’t care and would be in my office in thirty minutes. 

I have a consultation business. I untangle the entanglements of the human heart and to ease the burdens on the human mind. The business is not thriving. Most of my clients are women and I get them through word of mouth. I don't advertise my business as I don't have a professional license and I don't want to pay taxes. All the transactions are on cash basis. I keep no records. And my ”office” is actually my spare bedroom functioning as my study where I keep books and do my writing. Tammy has been a client for many years.

She arrived all excited and smiling. 

-I have a new boyfriend and he will fly in tomorrow. 

-Congratulations! So what's the problem? Is he married or what? 

-Give me a break! I’m not that type. I ain't no home wrecker. I want to show you his photos on Facebook and his texts and I want you to tell me what you think of him. 

I must admit that I was impressed by Tammy. She was no raving beauty and not of much education and money, but she seemed to catch boyfriends left and right. The problem was that they didn't last, and not because of her inadequacies in bed. Once, she grinned in telling me she knew the ”Art of Pleasure” and wasn't unfamiliar with Kama Sutra. She even tried to come on strong to me, but I deftly deflected her advances. She wasn't my type. Too materialistic, too connivimg, too unstable. She was a devotee of Tantric Buddhism and a rather generous disciple and supporter of a Tibetan monk. I didn't want to tell her that the monk was taking her and her fellow disciples for a carpet ride. She didn't ask my advice about the matter and my attitude was that if people wanted to be exploited, that was their problem, not mine. I myself was a victim of exploitation many times, though not in religious matters, and thus should refrain from dissing out unsolicited advice. There are matters a human must learn on his own. 

After studying the photos and the texts, I spoke:

-Congratulations again. He’s even younger than you. That’s a plus. The guy is legit. He has a good job, a manager with a good company. The company is very big, although the business is in a downturn because of the decline of the price of oil. Regardless, the company is too big to fail. And the business is going to bounce back. It looks like there will be a shooting war with Iran anytime now. Plus, that war in Yemen must come to a conclusion. It can't go on forever. The shooting at oil tankers and the bombing on oil pipelines and terminals will resume. That will make the Iraq-Iran War 40 years ago a child’s play. That’s going to drive up the price of oil sky high. But how did you meet this guy?

-On Facebook. He was following me for some time and insisted on being my friend. I was reluctant at first. He lives far away and seems to be way above me in education and money. But he persisted. I finally gave in. I figured I had nothing to lose but time. And then lo and behold, he’s been coming on strong, very strong as a matter of fact. 

-Listen, Tammy, I’m going to speak frankly. That’s what you’re paying me for. The man is impulsive, lonely, and a very good catch for you. He’s falling hard for you. But, based on your romantic history, you must ask yourself a question that whether or not you really care about the guy or he is just a financial savior for you. Everything has a price. Sometimes the price is very high. This guy is serious, emotional, and not quite stable. You must treat him with devotion and tender loving care. Don't use him. Don't play with him, otherwise he may flip out and liable to do something stupid. 

-But how the hell you know all this, just from looking at the photos and reading some texts?

-I just know. Call it a gift. That’s why you’ve been coming here for advice and counsel. I’ve been right. And you know it. You know I know something about the human heart. 

-You’re scaring me. Should I tell him not to come?

-That question indicates you aren't that serious with him. No, you can't just tell him not to come. That's too late now. Let him come. You will know if he really turns you on. 

-Let me ask you a question, if I may.

-Go head. What is it?

-Don't get mad. But I always wonder, if you’re really so knowledgeable about the human heart, then how come you're lonely and don't have a girlfriend. I've followed your blogs. I've read your posts on the Net. 

-You are here to talk about your problem, not mine. And you are aware that you are paying for my time. Right? I don't feel comfortable to talk with you about myself and then charge you for it. It just isn't right. We can talk about it if we are out on social chitchat. 

-In that case, would you like to be at dinner with us when my boyfriend is here? Please come. I want you to meet him.  I’m willing to pay for your time.

-Let me think about it. You don't have to pay for my time while I have dinner with you and your boyfriend. Congratulations again on having a new boyfriend. Be nice and gentle with him, please. 

Wissai 

July 8, 2019

Sprinter or Marathoner?

Sprinter or Marathoner?

I chuckled all the way to the running trail this early morning when the late summer sun didn't yet start making its ascent on the east side of town behind the mountain range. Once the run started, the chuckling stopped and the reverie began. My body went into a default mode of putting one foot in front of the other at a pace not much faster than that of a power walking while my mind went into a free association.

A stupid fool exhorted his fellow fools not to argue with me about whether or not God exists. You cannot argue with me anyway, pal. You are a dim-witted, superstitious, ignorant fellow that really doesn't have a functioning brain. 

The little twit even reminded his fellow twits that I am a "communist". Wrong! Your grandpa is a socialist, maybe even a Marxist, but never a communist. Communism is a bankrupt, outdated, unworkable ideology. Everybody knows that. And nobody follows it now. Grow up, get on with the times. Follow the news. Use your head, whatever you have in it. I hope yours is not completely empty and functions only as an echo chamber for your religious and political brainwashers. 

Remember, one can tell who and what you are from the way you write. So, be careful, my little twit. Do you know that it is you who are suffering right now? You suffer from self-righteous anger and ignorance. Like so many of your fellow twits and nitwits, you are suffering without knowing that you are suffering. That's how sad and pathetic you are. 

As I have written time and time again, I don't hate you guys. Not really. I just pity you. Having been born as human beings, you guys are so dim-witted that you cannot behave like true humans. Instead, you lie, smugly believe in superstitions, and hate genuine, authentic, enlightened human beings, like me for instance, who don't share your superstitious beliefs, the kind of beliefs to which only fools and slaves subscribe. 

Worst of all, in your everyday behavior you cannot even follow the teachings of the founder of your religion. You have no Love in you at all, based on the venomous Hate I see dripping from your fingers when you type. Learn to love, and you will feel better; you will understand what the man said right before his death, “Father, please forgive them for they do not know what they're doing". 

I don't practice the same faith as you do, but every freaking day when I meditate and listen to the chant Om Mani Padme Hum, my being is full of Forgiveness and Peace. I forgive you and your ilk because you guys don't know any better. You guys are dwelling in Darkness and Ignorance.

Guess what? I don't call myself a Christian, but I am a far better Christian than all of you put together. You guys are just Christians in name. You live a hollow life. 

I recognize Jesus's good points, especially his message about Love and Forgiveness. I just don't believe in his divinity. I am an atheist, remember? Maybe I am biased and prejudiced but I look at all theists with askance, with a jaundiced eye, and think that there must be something wrong with the brains of all these people. Something must be missing in there; something having to do with a rigorous way of thinking that demands hard proofs, strong evidence, and logic before believing in something or some being. Instead of saying Jesus was a Son of God, or God in the flesh, it would be far better to say, here was a good, decent man who cared about poor people, who was full of Love, despite his occasional temper tantrums, and should be an example for others to follow his way of behavior, you guys just elevated him to be a God and made a mockery of human rationality, human ability to reason, to think. 

Frankly, all my previous “essays” had a powerful, intriguing beginning, then problems started piling up. This essay, with a weird but catchy title, "Sprinter or Marathoner", may suffer the same fate. We will soon find out.

I looked at him: olive-complexioned; intelligent, dark set eyes; thin lips; beard and a goatee quite common where he came from; chiseled facial features; cold, impassive expressions. He spoke excellent American English, with a slight trace of Oxbridge accent. He tried to pass himself off as an American. He should not sport the beard, however. The beard and the Oxbridge accent betrayed him. But I kept my mouth shut. I played the fool. I shook his hand firmly and said, "Glad to meet you. I've heard so much about you." 

"The honor is all mine", he said, looking straight at my eyes. "Thanks for inviting me into your home. Based on what you told me over the phone, and meeting you here in person, I don't know, I don't think you need my help. You did the right thing to practice Silence. You spoke enough, maybe more than enough. You have fulfilled your duties as a patriot. 

The world has been going crazy in one way or another from Day 1. Man is a strange, self-conflicting, self-destructive animal. Look at yourself. Look at me. Look at everyone around you. Very few are well-integrating, balanced, happy, caring, loving people.

If you want to test people, ask them to spend money or time to help you. Also challenge their ego; make them angry. See how they respond to your testing them. That's when their true colors come out. 

I am one of a very few good folks around. That's a truth not well known. My guiding lights of conduct /behavior are Truth, Justice, and Love. 

Most humans have a fragile ego and tend to lash out in anger. They want to hurt and to retaliate. They employ sarcasm and mendacity as weapons. That's their defense by default. That is not to say that they are all bad and rotten to the core, but simply that they are weak-minded individuals who can't take criticism even if it is valid. Their first instinct is to throw back the criticism to the face of the critic. They act as if they were an echo chamber. That's childish and stupid. They fail to grasp a cardinal truth that any valid criticism is a godsend, an opportunity for them to be better. In the final analysis, Love is the best guiding light. Actually it is the only guiding light you need. Truth and Justice are just different dimensions of Love, if you really think about the issue. If you are full of Love, people will flock to you like bees to honey, not to necessarily exploit you, but to bask in your presence of Peace and Trust. Understand what I'm trying to say? No? Well, let me tell you a sad, but illuminating story. Perhaps it will help. 

A female physician with whom I was infatuated when I was a merely lad of 17 and she was a pretty girl of 18, visited the U.S. with her fellow physician husband from somewhere on this planet Earth. There was a getting together for dinner for former high school exchange students under the AFS program, in Huntington Beach, CA. The coordinator of the event who knew of my infatuation asked me if I would like to be there. I declined on account of my inability to break a prior engagement. I haven't seen her since 1967. And it's very unlikely that I will ever see her again. Something is better left unsaid and some woman is better unseen in order for the adolescent magic to be preserved. 

She was a source of several beautiful (though full of bathos) poems in English. She was the first woman that moved my heart, and maybe the whole being as well. She inspired me to work on my French. She went to a French high school where the medium of instruction was French. I went to an indigenous school, and had only three years of French as a secondary foreign language. I could now speak, read, and write French in a somewhat acceptable fashion thanks to her going through, briefly and fleetingly, my life. She served as a model for all the subsequent women in my life. 

I used to dream about her all the time during my 20s, 30s, and 40s. Eventually, the dreams tapered off and stopped coming. My heart learned to heal itself. Puppy Love is a mysterious, splendorous thing. I keep telling myself that I must constantly work on myself, physically, intellectually, and financially, in order to not sully the mystery and the splendor. Put it crudely, if an individual cannot respect and love himself, nobody else would either. 

You see, in my quest for Love, in the past I made a fool of myself, time and time again, but each time I learned from the experience. Then one day I met a woman who truly loved me. A week before she died of a massive heart attack during dinner, she said to me, ‘Omar, listen to me real good. Nobody loves you like your mother did while she was still alive, and like I love you now. Nobody. You are not easy to love because you are difficult to understand. Stupid women would never understand you. They might be attracted to your looks, your body, your money, and your mind, but they don't know what you think and how you really feel about certain key issues. Anyway, take good care of your money, don't give it away to women like you did before. If you have no money, nobody, man or woman, sister or brother, would respect you; everybody will definitely treat you like shit. Of course, don't be a miser, but don't be foolish with money. Stop talking about buying a Mercedes or a bigger house, and all that crap. Live simply and within your means. After I die, which I don't know when, but soon, I just sense it—you know I'm blessed with having a “sixth sense”—by all means go out and date women, have fun but cling onto your money. Don't let any bitch rob you of the money you worked so hard for. Don't fall in love. A man of your age and personality must avoid Love like a plague. If you feel lonely, get a dog.’

Anyway, you see, Roberto, in my profession I've met many kinds of people. Some are so incredibly dim-witted and ignorant beyond imagination. But the funny thing is that they think they are smart and informed. That's so funny about it, so funny that I feel like puking every time I have to interact with them. They’re having the Dunning-Kruger Effect. And I often wonder why they bother to live on this planet. They don't contribute anything to human progress. They just pollute the human gene pool and waste the resources. Yes, I believe strongly in eugenics. 

I know I have to cultivate the ability to love them, but it's very hard to love the unlovable. I suppose that's why we have mayhem and murder and madness in the human world. But I am telling you, for your own good, you must observe Silence. You've talked too much, way too much already. Don’t you think so? One last advice. You’ve heard of Sigmund Freud, the doctor in Vienna, right? Anyway, he didn’t always treat people with sex problems. He also occasionally saw clients with Common Sense problems, rather, clients that had no Common Sense. One day he told a client of his that “Du must never go to bed with someone who's got more problems than du." Remember that, Roberto. Keep that counsel. Don’t you ever forget that. Don’t have sex with any woman who has more problems or less money than you. Don't be stupid. Have Common Sense. Be realistic. Otherwise, you will get hurt. Life is really simple once you understand its rules. Like everything involving humans, Life is a game that has strict rules. You must abide by the rules if you want to survive and prosper. “

After that long speech, he embraced me, patted my back, and then walked out of my condo, after saying “Take good care of yourself. Be alert”. I was pensive after his departure. I kept thinking of the conversation that we had. I grabbed a Heineken from the fridge, a jar of unsalted nuts, and retired to my study. I took a book from the shelf and started reading about shamanism, ayahuasca, and curanderos while smoking a joint. I was playing it safe. My body has been familiar with weed. I know weed is safe, if used in moderation. I don’t want to try ayahuasca. I don’t need to bring myself to a different consciousness that I can’t handle.

I am complex enough. I have a mystical, transcendental side that most people don’t know that I have. Unlike others, I realize that in denouncing others, we all need to stick to the facts, not lies. As regards the language employed in the denunciation, it should not be too excessive to the point we would be ashamed of ourselves later on. There is nothing that exceeds like Excess. We are only as big as our words and actions.

One of the most endearing teachings of Jesus (and others) is that we all need Love and Forgiveness. It takes a really strong man to love and forgive those who have intentionally hurt him. Life means nothing if we have no Peace. So in order to have access to Peace, I tell myself that I am a Yogi-cum-warrior-cum-seeker of knowledge-cum-shaman, brujo, and curandero. We are what we think we are. What we think, we will act on it. Thought is the mother of Action. A sensitive, intelligent, brave person knows who he is and can cure himself of any mental and emotional ills and almost all physical ailments if he knows how to use his mind. Take it from me. I’m speaking from my own experiences, and not from any empty unsubstantiated theorizing. Most, if all, emotional pains are due to emotional immaturity which is closely tied with low level of intelligence and awareness, including self-awareness.

For decades and up to about 6 years ago, I stupidly gloried romantic love. Then I came to a realizations that although romantic love does exist, you have to be minimally qualified and prepared for it. That means you must have a job, some money, decent looks, pleasant personality, and lots of luck of finding a woman who is interested in sharing a life with you, and not taking you for a ride. Very often, however, you are not qualified and/or have no luck in meeting a woman you want, and thus have to settle for second, third, or even tenth best, and end up getting divorced a few years, or twenty, thirty years down the road later. The moment I recognized the true nature of romantic love, I ironically became less romantic and no longer entrapped in the snares of unscrupulous women, although I still fantasized. Fantasy does wonders to my flirtation with words. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about Stacy. Did I ever tell you about Stacy? No? Never? Good. Well, then, you’re in for a treat. This woman and I had a brief, Freudian fling. Gosh, it must be more than 40 years ago. I didn’t remember her at all. I didn’t even think of her. She was just a ship passing through the night. Then, one day, about two months ago, I got a note from Apple’s Messenger Service saying that there was a Stacy wanting to talk to me. I had to wreck my brain to remember who she was. Anyway, she said she was missing me! And she was looking all over the Internet for me. Flattered, I exchanged a few notes with her and even copied her on some of my emails in which I pontificated and bellyached just about everything under the Sun. And guess what? She dropped me a note telling me to take her off the mailing list. I didn’t even bother to answer her. Of course, I took her name off the list. See? Women are like that . They want to play games. You’ve got to remember that.

So, what I learned from this sad Stacy episode is that Life in its essence is about power relationships. Every man and every woman out there want to exert power over you, if you let them. Everybody pays lip service about Love, but what they mean is Power. That’s why people lie, cheat, and betray. I think Man lives for pleasure, power, and self-actualization (you are what you do). Those are the three interpretative tools. Everybody wants Love, but I don’t think they live for Love. That’s why Loneliness is endemic and rampant among humans. Everybody wants to use everybody else in the name of Love and Friendship. Man is a conniving, crafty, dishonest, controlling, power-hungry animal. If you view human dynamics in that framework, you will not get hurt, you will not get disappointed. Disappointment derives from unrealistic expectations. That’s why we treasure Humor. Humor makes Life tolerable. We laugh because we accept the Nonsense and the Absurd. We’ve learned not to take anything seriously, not even Life. Life, if you really think about it, is a Unfunny Joke. We were born so that we will die. What’s the point to be born if we will have to die? Ever thought about that? I do. All the time.

Anyway, today is the first day of the year 2018. It’s cold outside, even at the desert where I reside. It’s overcast, too. Gray is ruling the sky where it is normally intensely blue with no cloud cover at all. In fact, it looks like it might rain. The forecast is calling for sixty per cent of precipitation.

It’s cold inside, too, inside my heart that is. Ever since the Stacy episode and the stupid conversation I had with one of my ex-wives, the second one, on Christmas Eve, I have felt something in me dying. I was trying to be nice. I called her to wish her a Merry Christmas since she and I had maintained a cordial relationship after we went separate ways. But somehow this time, she was curt and hostile and told me to cut the bs and stop calling her. Stunned, I simply said, “Sorry”, and clicked off.

Afterwards, I felt furious, infuriated, enraged, and pissed off. It took me several days before I was able to cool down and shake off the shock. Since then I have been thinking that there must be something wrong with the way I behave because it looks like I don’t have the respect due to me. Oh well, it’s simply a thought worth dwelling on, but not getting hysterical over. After all, my mentor Nietzsche never ceased reminding me that to be great is to be misunderstood (ha! ha! ha!). In the final analysis, however, it’s not so much other people respect us or not as whether or not we respect ourselves. Public adoration does not mean much if we hate ourselves, if we think we are really bad because of our private sins and misdeeds, the kind of sins and misdeeds are known only by us and won’t leave us sound asleep at night.

I must confess that I sleep quite well these days. I have made Peace with my Conscience. Now and then, however, I do have long recurrent dreams in which I wrestle with my demons. When I wake up and realize that I still try to come to terms with my suppressed sorrows, a consciousness is dawning on me that I am at heart a marathoner, not a sprinter. I run slow and long in a solitary journey to find Meaning and Purpose of my Life. I jog, not sprint, so I have time to reflect on the reasons why I chose my avocations: physical fitness, language and knowledge acquisition, literary creation, and poker. I don’t run away from my problems. I run so I can deal with them. I think of them, of ways to deal with them when I run. I run my problems into submission.

Wissai

January 2018

LIFE IS SHORT

Life is short

Love is rare 

Don’t be scared 

Seize the day

Listen to your heart

Listen to what it says 

Open your eyes 

Can’t you see the sparks 

Going up among you and I 

Read my words again and again 

They’re tell you something 

Close your eyes, trust your heart

Love me then and say Amen

Come fly with me 

Wissai

July 8, 2019

Life, Love, and Loneliness

Life, Love, and Loneliness

Tammy called me up just as I was about to close ”the office” down and called it a day. She said she must come over and see me at once. She couldn’t wait. I told her that unscheduled session for after hours would cost her one and half rate of the usual consultation fee. She said she didn’t care and would be in my office in thirty minutes. 

I have a consultation business. I untangle the entanglements of the human heart and to ease the burdens on the human mind. The business is not thriving. Most of my clients are women and I get them through word of mouth. I don't advertise my business as I don't have a professional license and I don't want to pay taxes. All the transactions are on cash basis. I keep no records. And my ”office” is actually my spare bedroom functioning as my study where I keep books and do my writing. Tammy has been a client for many years.

She arrived all excited and smiling. 

-I have a new boyfriend and he will fly in tomorrow. 

-Congratulations! So what's the problem? Is he married or what? 

-Give me a break! I’m not that type. I ain't no home wrecker. I want you to show you his photos on Facebook and his texts and tell me what you think about him. 

I must admit that I was impressed by Tammy. She was no raving beauty and not of much education and money, but she seemed to catch boyfriends left and right. The problem was that they didn't last, and not because of her inadequacies in bed. Once, she grinned in telling me she knew the ”Art of Pleasure” and wasn't unfamiliar with Kama Sutra. She even tried to come on strong to me, but I deftly deflected her advances. She wasn't my type. Too materialistic, too connivimg, too unstable. She was a devotee of Tantric Buddhism and a rather generous disciple and supporter of a Tibetan monk. I didn't want to tell her that the monk was taking her and her fellow disciples for a carpet ride. She didn't ask my advice about the matter and my attitude was that if people wanted to be exploited, that was their problem, not mine. I myself was a victim of exploitation many times, though not in religious matters, and thus should refrain from dissing out unsolicited advice. There are matters a human must learn on his own. 

After studying the photos and the texts, I spoke:

-Congratulations again. He’s even younger than you. That’s a plus. The guy is legit. He has a good job, a manager with a good company. The company is very big, although the business is in a downturn because of the decline of the price of oil. Regardless, the company is too big to fail. And the business is going to bounce back. It looks like there will be a shooting war with Iran anytime now. Plus, that war in Yemen must come to a conclusion. It can't go on forever. The shooting on oil tankers and the bombing on oil pipelines and terminals war will resume. That will make the Iraq-Iran War 40 years ago a child’s play. That’s going to drive up the price of oil sky high. But how did you meet this guy?

-On Facebook. He was following me for some time and insisted on being my friend. I was reluctant at first. He lives far away and seems to be way above me in education and money. But he persisted. I finally gave in. I figured I had nothing to lose but time. And then lo and behold, he’s been coming on strong. 

-Listen, Tammy, I’m going to speak frankly. That’s what you’re paying me for. The man is impulsive, lonely, and a very good catch for you. He’s falling hard for you. But, based on your romantic history, you must ask yourself a question whether or not you really care about the guy or he is just a financial savior for you. Everything has a price. Sometimes the price is very high. This guy is serious, emotional, and not quite stable. You must treat him with devotion and tender loving care. Don't use him. Don't play with him, otherwise he may flip out and liable to do something stupid. 

-But how the hell you know all this, just from looking at the photos and reading some texts?

-I just know. Call it a gift. That’s why you’ve been coming here for advice and counsel. I’ve been right. And you know it. You know I know something about the human heart. 

-You’re scaring me. Should I tell him not to come?

-That question indicates you aren't that serious with him. No, you can't just tell him not to come. That's too late now. Let him come. You will know if he really turns you on. 

-Let me ask you a question, if I may.

-Go head. What is it?

-Don't get mad. But I always wonder, if you’re really so knowledgeable about the human heart, then how come you're lonely and don't have a girlfriend. I've followed your blogs. I've read your posts on the Net. 

-You are here to talk about your problem, not mine. And you are aware that you are paying for my time. Right? I don't feel comfortable to talk with you about myself and then charge you for it. It just isn't right. We can talk about it if we are out on social chitchat. 

-In that case, would you like to be a dinner with us when my boyfriend is here? Please come. I want you to meet him.  I’m willing to pay for your time.

-Let me think about it. You don't have to pay for my time while I have dinner with you and your boyfriend. Congratulations again on having a new boyfriend. Be nice and gentle with him, please. 

Wissai 

July 8, 2019