Honor Your Emotions.

I must expand of what I had previously posted. That is, certainty.

Certainties exist only in the present.

Uncertainties exist in both the past, and the future… for they are both abstractions. Neither exist in this moment.

As for emotions…. If we do not consider ourselves, or refuse to ‘love’ ourselves… then there is no way we could ever master our emotions. We must pay careful attention to ourselves, not to forget ourselves.

Do not hide, or disapprove of yourself. Always remember that one must take care of themselves, firstly, to take care of others. Always remember to love yourself, and take care of yourself.

I like to ask myself why I feel the way I do, in any given moment. It’s very important for me, to understand. Emotions, contrary to what is perpetuated through emojis and the like… are complicated.

Human beings can feel many different emotions, simultaneously. Even those, which are in direct contradiction to one another. Whether that be happy, and sad… all at the same time.

Emotions exist in layers.

It is very easy, for us to fear our own emotions. Even those, which are negative… the stigma of ‘bad versus good’, which is presented to us through society, and of course… allegory alike will give evidence to this.

I don’t want to block my heart off from what the world has to offer. I miss feeling. Sweet and sour.


Although emotions may be important to human, it is important to note that emotions do not speak to the entire human experience… rather, they are another element, so-to-speak, which contributes to one’s experience. One sees their negative emotions as pathological, as if abnormal to the human experience… as if a disease to be cured. As an existentialist, I see all emotions as necessary. One may go into philosophical belief systems, such as stoicism to CONTROL their emotions… yes, not those positive, but those negative. As if, to see that feeling a certain way, is dysfunctional.

On the topic of negative emotions, such things can be very painful… such things are at the root of human anguish. I do not say this lightly, for I’ve had my darker experiences myself. Only now, at my twenty-six years I’ve realized that suffering is to be human.

We all run from negative emotions, whether that be through self-medication in the form of substances, anti-depressants, or distractions… addiction comes to mind. In our rejection, and fear of our emotions… they end up ruling our lives. The irony here is that, one is attempting to alleviate themselves of their emotions… when the metaphorical beast will only remain, to eat the innards of one’s psyche. Regardless of substances, regardless of distraction. There is no running.

Don’t suppress your emotions, they will destroy you. As much as you’d like to, your emotions will come out. Always, will you have emotions. The strange thing… is that your emotions, are much stronger than you (that perceived little ‘you’) are.

All of these ‘coping mechanisms’ have something in common. They dull sensitivity. In all truth, we are all sensitive.

In all truth, we are all afraid to be alive. Truly alive. Living is much more terrifying than death.

To live in passion, one lives through their emotions. I believe that emotion and passion go hand-in-hand. It is the fire, and light which burns within us. The fire, which we must learn to tend. The fire will either go out, leaving us in darkness… or it may burn so brightly, that is may consume us. Emotion is energy in motion. Movements out of ourselves, into the world. The way in-which we connect to the world. Everything we do, is of the world. We are not separate units. We are all connected, through each of us being connected in our separate ways. Our emotions speak to us, in how we find ourselves in relation to this world. That is what it is to be alive.

We must tune into our emotions, if we wish to manage and monitor them. We cannot run away from them, any longer. We must honour them. To be one with it. Emotion is the potentiality of energy, awaiting for its application to a certain task.

As an individual on anti-depressants, I do see the difference. I see how the medication narrows my scope of experience. In doing so, it leads me to be less vulnerable, in my trading off my sensitivity. My processing capacity has been cut down, exponentially. Things have been slowed down. The only thing now, that I still feel strongly is love. All of my other emotions have been dulled down. Even sadness. I feel listless, although complacent in this dulling down. Not feeling the will, or need to strive for anything as I once did.

Truth is, I’m a highly sensitive individual. Very much so. Things effect me, greatly. Although, my outer mask is in direct contradiction. Many find me intimidating. This is the shadow aspect of myself, one which is in direct opposition to the softness which is truly me. The true self, I was during my youth. I have hurt greatly, loved greatly… for me, loss is something, which is experienced to an extreme. The pain intense, to the extent that I had wanted to end my own life. That is why, I did not want to feel that pain anymore.

It is not my sensitivity’s fault. It is my denying myself of that sensitivity. To be ashamed of it. In a world where we are commanded to save face. In a world of efficiency… numbers… facts… what of emotion? We cannot deny its existence, regardless. How can I say that romance is such a stupid thing, if it elicits in me an emotion pure, and profound? One powerful, one moving.

I think it’s rather obvious why I make these posts. It’s a form of catharsis for me. A form of honoring these heavier emotions, deep within myself. To understand them better. Where they arise from, and so-forth.


There are two things we complain of, most of the time: Anxiety and depression. Both feel threatening. These two feelings, are in all truth a feeling of rising energy which has not yet found its proper application. Now, why is anxiety and depression narrowed out… above all other emotions in terms of those being negative?

To me, the feeling of despair is a mix of anxiety and depression. To be trapped in the abstractions of anywhere but here. The past, the future? We are stuck inside of our heads, attempting to figure a way out. Emotions are like that of magic, in that they are allow us to fit ourselves into any given situation. That connection.

I’ve plans of quitting my anti-depressants, after I’ve a handle on my life.

We can do better than cope, we can gather existential courage. I do not wish to, or want to deny myself the entirety of human experience. What we want, is matured, and understood emotion. One which is processed, considered and lived-through.

Don’t you know? Your anxiety proves that you are alive. We can kill ourselves in many ways. One way, being us living in a paralyzed fear… one of cold self-forgetfulness. Our disconnection with our emotions, is one way to kill ourselves. The more anxious you are, the more alive you are. Never fear your anxiety, welcome it. Anxiety is proof, that you are alive. As is depression. Depression tells us, that we are sensitive to loss. To deny yourself of this, you deny yourself… of yourself. No one requires you to suffer that much, nor to be suppressed. You are allowed to be completely alive, and to get to know who you truly are. You can be much more free than you are, right now. Do not suppress, or oppress yourself.

Rebellion shows that you are alive. Rebellion shows “I know more about myself, than you ever will.” We all must be able to do that. To take responsibility of our inner understanding of who we truly are, and who we are to become. Do not dim your light.

In my early life, I suppressed my emotion, only for it to overtake me. You are angry? Good. Let it motivate you.

Honour yourself, try to understand how you feel… there is no need to suppress yourself. Even with your walls up, those are mere illusions. Always will you be vulnerable. Either way.

I don’t want to oppress or suppress anything any longer!

I wish, to let it be.

My thanks is given to this video:

The Mystery Of Life Is Found In You

Still, at this point in-time I consider myself an existentialist. However, as per the nature of myself, I do not abide by any purist convention of existentialism. There are many things, for example of Nietzsche’s, that I can disagree with… many things, which Carl Jung argues… that is in direct contrast to many existentialist beliefs. I speak for the majority, in-which I align myself, at this current point in time. I live as a contradiction, not rightly on purpose… however, through the limitations of reality, and the duality which it presents, what other choice have I?

Many of we existentialists know that life is meaningless, thus, we must seek our own meaning in this world, of absurdity. None of this matters, and what a wonderful thing that is? I do not control anything outside of me. What freedom that is…

This surface level of suffering is grounded, fundamentally in existential issues.

Authenticity.

The existential crisis is very human. That is, the desire to find meaning in life… the crises of identify and our confronting the reality that we will one day, no longer exist… that we ourselves are ultimately alone. It is anxieties, which expand outside of ourselves. The fragile perceived self is shedding, what are we left with? How are we to go at it alone, to cleave ourselves away from the crowd? Would we lose ourselves in the sea of our own madness. Yes, that is another facet to consider. This world is much-like the symbol of the Tao. Absolute balance (wholeness) is sought after, although balance is no constant state.

The philosophical stance that the existentialist believes in, is free-will… however, to the limitations of human. Choices, and action. Freedom leads to responsibility, of course.

I am led to consciously define myself, in-relation to the world around me… and others. That is why I do this. The more I understand myself, the more I can understand this world, and the others in it. It is as simple as that.

BRANCHES OF EXISTENTIAL THERAPY:
Daseinanalysis (relation to the world).
Logotherapy.
American Existential-humanistic Approach (authentic self).
British School Of Existential Analysis.

It is possible, that I may ascribe to phenomenology… and this may be due to the influence of my applying it, for my PhD. Also, the fact that phenomenology itself… evolved from existentialism philosophy. The question of reality, the question of being and so-forth.

In exploring the various needs of the individual about the ontological conditions of being, Nietzsche asserted that all things are in a state of “ontological privation,” in which they long to become more than they are.

Nietzsche argued that all things, by man, are in a state of “Privation”, that is through the ontological realm. Which, in this context, ‘it’, being ‘man’ longs to become more than they are. Phenomenology took Nietzsche and Kierkegaard’s philosophy of human issues a step further, providing a rigor.


My theory, before of the conscious and unconscious being corollary to the first world and second world respectively, can there-upon be compared to the Existential therapist ‘Four Worlds’ system. And you know what links into this four world theory? Tarot.

Physical dimension: Pentacles. (Relation to physical reality)
Social dimension: Water. (Relation to others)
Psychological dimension: Swords. (Relation to thoughts)
Spiritual dimension: Wands. (Relation to the subconscious/metaphysical)

To function at a healthy capacity, one must balance precariously between these four worlds.

I-Thou Relationship:

I have alluded to this truth, many a-time. That we cannot possibly love another, in their totality. Instead, we can only be afforded an abstraction from-which we can only gather understanding, through our own lens of reality. As aforementioned, the one I love is loved due to his fitting the projection of my unconscious traits. I relate to him, through my conceptualization of HIM, rather than HIM in totality. Only HE can know himself in TOTALITY. More than anyone else.

Although, there are rare moments where a meeting… almost fated and beyond comprehension with this other… where we feel the discrete boundaries are shed. They are you, and you are they. A unity of being.

We must remember, however that such an object of affection is a free agent. Such an object of affection acts of its own will, with its own unconscious… with its own fears and desires. True love, and connection IS this “I and Thou” proposition in my eyes.

Please, let me experience you as a separate instance from everyone else. I will shed mine mask, if you were to shed yours. I wish to experience you as a truly independent subject. Regardless of your form. Show me who you truly are.

You must understand. The love I hold for you is deeper than mere eros, or romantic ideals. For you, I see your ugliness. For you, I see past idealizations. It is beyond love, what I feel for you.

I have transcended beyond my former longing and desire for romance. This love I had found in you, is much higher. Is it spiritual? No. I do not believe in the spiritual. Rather, I believe it is something beyond the self. Something of the unconscious. And always, had I loved that darkness deep within me. The one of which I always knew remained, yet never understood. It is in you, I see it realized. I see it in the flesh. One cannot be whole without that darkness. Great strength can be harnessed from it.

When we do find one another. What other choice have we, but to love one another?

We’ll come back to one another, when the time is right. It’ll take a long time… but that’s what we both have. Time. Right now, you ought to ask yourself the most important questions. I know you’re confused. I know you’re terrified. I’ve felt that too. Know that I know, and only you can find that answer. When you are ready, that is when we’ll begin again. Don’t you understand? I have always loved you. But right now, you must whittle yourself into being!

What is most fundamental to you? Who are you… what do you stand for? Then you will know what it is, that means most to you in this life. I won’t lie. It is a long process, but I see in you, that you can do it. Because once, I was much like you. Much time alone, was needed for me to find who I am within the deepest, and darkest depths of the totality of mine conscious/unconscious mind.

Sure, I’m not there. There is no such thing as there. No human is capable of reaching there, unless, they wish to have their mind swallowed whole by their unconscious.

Although, I will say… I do feel more adjusted… more permanent in this self which was created anew. No self ought to live forever. That is, for the one in pursuit of self-mastery of the self. Kubrick once did say that one forges a wonder for the world, in their maturity… for the world, more permanent, than the one from childhood.



Art Reflects Humanity.

Well, duh. Art is categorized in the Humanities for a reason. Art is very Human.

In my further exploration, and elucidations into the subconscious and its nebulous… yet mysterious powers, I find the correlation in all forms of art. Music, and the like. For instance:

I now realize, that this song ‘Meet Me In The Woods’, is about a man who is fighting with himself. That is, the dark place, he speaks of is his unconscious. And how he Fucked with the forces, that our eyes cannot see.

“I took a little journey to the unknown” = The unconscious/subconscious.

Love always gets thrown into the mix, as well as any form of intimacy. After-all, there is no better interaction/relationship between one another, than love to illuminate the darkness within ourselves. That is why, we are drawn to the relationships we are drawn to. Perhaps, to heal that rift within ourselves. I can attest to my history in relationships, being unfavorable and the exact opposite of idealistic. I do not regret any of them, however… for they’ve granted me of a helm onto who I am, as a person.

The man in the song, has actually returned from his Call To Adventure, forever changed, as he says that he “…can feel it in my bones.” Also, the numinous forces of the subconscious cannot possible be communicated, through mere language. Imagery, only. In his saying “There ain’t no language for the things I’ve seen.” The interesting thing about this figure, singing and professing to an obvious love of his… is that he wishes to reveal his darkness to her, and see hers as well. That is, to be vulnerable. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

The night is seen as dangerous, yet seductive and romantic… for instance. And the night alludes to the unconscious, the darker aspect of ourselves. Much-like the Animus/Anima who lurks in that aspect of ourselves. Yes, that is how love occurs… Love-At-First-Sight. I speak not of bodily love (lust), exclusively. I speak of a love more developed, and one more higher.

It is through great suffering and pain, I believe, only maturation can occur.

An Existential Perspective On Love.

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”
― Soren Kierkegaard

I am blessed to be at this point in my life, where I have delved into existentialism for the first time… perhaps, before then I was blessed with phenomenological methodological structures from my PhD. To understand consciousness, how it pertains to each unique Point-Of-View in-relation to human. How we all, have differing fields of consciousness, and different manners of perception which dictate our understanding. All is a matter of opinion. Human beings, are all the same… yet very different at the same time. The contradictions must exist with one another, much as the symbol of TAO demonstrates. It is within the duality which exists within a separate instance, that it is identified.

Also, dammit. I enjoy writing. Although some of you are enjoying my posts (which, I wonder why, If my future husband had a nut allergy, he would surely die)… this is truly for my own therapy. Existential Therapy. I recommend it for everyone!

Now, back to the topic at hand about philosophy and how this world exists by that grand illusion of separation. MAYA, as it is known in Sanskrit.

8 Important Taoist Visual Symbols

Many traditions have their own version of the Tao. As I’ve noticed, in my delving into the esoteric, I notice ‘The Temperance’:

Temperance Meaning - Major Arcana Tarot Card Meanings – Labyrinthos
An androgynous being. They are a unification of both man, and woman. Blending elements together, into one.

Life can be only understood backwards, as Kierkegaard once said. What he means to say, is that we’ve our eidetic experiences to reflect upon… and the strange irony here, is that life can only be lived forwards. That is not to say, that the future happens upon us in an instance. The future is an illusion, as much as the past is. Rather, now with abstract of both perceivable pasts and futures is all we have.

Do it, or don’t do it. That is the essence of philosophy.

Meryl loves love. That is why Meryl writes about love, a lot. She is attempting to find out, what it means… not just to others, but to her herself. Why does she will to love deeply, and madly? Why does she long for the one who casts shadows much like her own? She knows it has much to do with herself, past the other. Love, is egoic and selfish. We love the other, for how we exist in relation to thou. She knows now, that her love all has to do with the traits she had unconsciously identified within her own field of being unto others. That is, it ought to lead to whoever it is, she is seeking one day (ah the romanticism in her will never die). The unconscious knows, past little her which she calls the self.


“Love is the expression of the one who loves, not of the one who is loved. Those who think they can love only the people they prefer do not love at all. Love discovers truths about individuals that others cannot see”
― Soren Kierkegaard

When we are in-trouble, or upset… and we’ve lost all meaning to our lives. Of course, we will be selfish. We will be self-absorbed. The solution is to navel-gaze, and to look within ourselves… and perhaps, we hope… that somehow we will find that missing part of ourselves. However, if we do this to the extent of absolute isolation, we are swallowed whole by our subconscious. I caution to those, like me who enjoy their solitude. Who can often times, cut themselves off from others in pursuit of these imagined issues within ourselves. Non! Do not do it. You will lose yourself forever. Look to the madmen who had gone off on their own, separating themselves from others. How could they identify themselves as human, without other humans? They cannot. Their very shape, and conception of their being is given existence through the presence of the ‘other’.

We humans need one another, or we will be lost forever in the labyrinth of our own minds. The issues in-which we sought for resolving within ourselves, will become us. Thus, we sink deeper and deeper into that despair.


Re-engage with the world, do not dis-engage with the world.

I had done this, and such a pursuit had nearly sent me insane. Little you, is nothing compared to the Mariana trench which is your subconscious. Separate from the labels. They do not define you. Although I myself am diagnosed with HFA (Asperger’s syndrome), I do not rightly believe that is all that I am. Rather, it identifies a set of traits, within the condition that I myself exhibit. It is part of me, absolutely… however, it does not constitute me, as a whole. The limitations of the label, is obvious… as are the constructivist ideals of language and symbiology. Again, all is a matter of opinion from consciousness to consciousness. There is no universal truth that HUMAN can understand. Surely, perhaps it exists? However, no human could ever grasp it. That is why human has taken it upon themselves to invent their own. Whether that be will, and force of government/societal structures and the like. BELIEVE IN THIS! THIS IS REALITY! THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE TRUTH! OBEY! Human fears that it will never discover that philosopher’s stone—that golden boon—that holy grail. Whatever it is. Therefore, metaphysical and transcendental explanation enters into the arena of thought. We cannot explain such phenomena, therefore it answers a question which cannot be answered.

How is it that such a conundrum presents itself in this manner? The answer to an answerless question, is an answerless answer.

More thoughts…

We are much more malleable than we often like to admit, or think. That is, in limitations to our shape. Much like the tree, from the acorn. The acorn is expected to turn into a tree. Its development… whether it thrives or not, is another condition to consider.

BACK TO LOVE.
Yes, we do not choose to love those who we love. Not to contradict myself, as I have done in my previous writings… I believe one can choose to love, however, this love is one that is enduring, and one which is seen in marriage and familial members who annoy you. As for the love, which Kierkegaard speaks of… it is far more idealistic, and romantic.

There is truth, however, that love discovers truths about individuals that others cannot see. That is, it alludes to the subconscious. It is never the conscious fragile ‘self’ which chooses to love, at first sight… rather, it is the subconscious.

To cheat oneself out of love is the most terrible deception; it is an eternal loss for which there is no reparation, either in time or in eternity.”
― Soren Kierkegaard

That is why, despite heart-break after heart-break. Struggle, after struggle. I do not deny love. I will always love, and I will always keep my heart open to love. I had tried to shut my heart off in my youth… I had tried to drown those feelings under an illusion of stoicism—seeing those emotions as weak. Yes, I cannot love the other. I do not need anyone else. I do not need love. What a lie I tell myself. I was fooling myself, into believing that love was weakness… when in reality, my running from love and refusing it IS WEAKNESS. As human, I love. Nevermind pop ballads about people saying “Do not love again.” Nevermind you. Love prevails. Love exists. In many forms.

This romanticist in me will never die.

And many people, are afraid of love… for to love truthfully is to be vulnerable. I have feared love, for a very… very… long time. Yet, paradoxically, I had desired love. And such a love exists, I believe. And he exists. And always, had I loved him.

In a world of billions, and billions. He’s out there. And when I happen upon him (or he happens upon me), we will both know.

Have I met him yet, as he is meant to be? Non. He exists however… or perhaps, one day he will exist?

Mind Over Matter.

I’m trying to figure out, what is inside of this mind. If I am compelled to jump in, head-first to the darker recesses of it. I will lose myself. I will be given to insanity.

Thus, I do not take the endeavor lightly. Only little by little, do I submerge myself into its depths.

The mind will consume you, if you do not tread lightly. Little ‘you’ will be lost. Either you become trapped in the void, or you come back… victorious, finding that piece most seductive. The inner-light. Thus, what you ‘were’ is transformed anew.

Either you embrace the deepest, darkest depths of the self… or you await it. The tides will rise, regardless. We’ve not any choice in the matter. The concept of ‘self’, in all of its ‘fragility’, is temporary.

All of these prevailing theories, and mysteries having to do with the metaphysical works to explain the part of ourselves, we will never understand. The subconscious. That which cannot be explained, is reduced to mere mystery… and even then, that explains, nothing at all.

I cannot be truly alone, lest I willingly surrender my ‘self’ to the absurdity of my subconscious. My responsibilities, and duties which exist outside of this labrynth is what keeps me anchored, thus, it grants that fragile ‘self’ a purpose.

“White Room Torture” comes to mind. If there is no sensory output, no interaction with others… nothing. One has no choice, but to turn inwards. They’ve no other choice, but to drown in the sea of their subconscious. The mind eats itself.

Love goes much deeper, than pure physical impulse. Rather it is the urge to discover more of one’s ‘true self’. The hidden, and seductive hidden in the unconscious. That is why, when we are drawn to the other… we cannot intellectualize why that is so, for the powers at play, have much to do with the unconscious.

I do know, that my drive and pull to love has much to do with this. It is the ugliness, and darkness within myself I’ve yet to explore… I can see projected onto the other. This fragile little ‘self’, has no power over that projection. Thus, that strange familiarity of the other comes into play. That strange concept of ‘soul-mates’, is all linked to the unconscious mind’s recognition of what exists in its deepest recesses, in the other. “Yes, I feel as if you have always known me… Hence I have always loved you.”

That is why I am driven to love you, you reflect to me… the parts within myself, I want to accept. In loving you, I shall integrate that which, within myself, I reject.

I believe the second-world theory, is corollary to one’s unconscious. Whilst, the first-world in this parallel… refers to the conscious self.

First world = Consciousness. The fragile, and temporal state of the ‘self’ used to navigate this existence in the now.

Second world = The Unconscious.
One which is unlimited, uncharted, mysterious… beyond conscious conception. No human in reality has the ability to access all of it, unless they are willing to sacrifice that fragile self. Madness would ensue. One would become everything, and nothing at all. The self is sacrificed, dissolved among that sea of unlimited potential. To human, it is unlimited… for one cannot scale its very depths, in its entirety and keep their consciousness intact. For the unconscious goes beyond-the-beyond of that limitation, of the fragile self. What we identify, and we come to know as ourselves… living in this material existence. One that is victim to change. One that has no choice, ultimately to the inexplicable chaos and meaningless of this world. The unconscious, in comparison to the conscious can be seen in this manner. Chaotic, and meaningless. The fragile self tries its best to assign meaning to it. Whether that be through spiritual, or religious affiliations. Signs, symbols (semiotics). These constructivist ideals, to find order in something which does not require it to exist.

Why be jealous of one who loves another? It is as if you are being jealous of your own unconscious self loving another, who also has an unconscious of their own. That which you seek on the outside of yourself, is already within. How? In-order for one to identify that which you seek in the other, you must have a conception of what it is… therefore, you have had it all along. In loving you, I am being selfish… and egoic. For, I can only love that which I identify (unconsciously) within the constellation/microcosm of mine own world.

I love you, because you reflect back to me, me.

In essence, aren’t we all the same… in the end?

No, no. Part of me will always love him. Because, the unconscious prevails. That unlimited aspect, which had identified that potentiality within him. Who he is to become (more of himself, as a tree grows from an acorn… simply does). You are not absent from me. Rather, you are always with me, for that which I had loved in you, I myself possess. In my subconscious. Is this unconditional love? Yes, I suppose it is.

There is no need for obsession, or longing to possess you. For you never left. Even before, I had happened upon you, you existed… although, not yet in the flesh.

Therefore, I set you free. And always, will I love you.

Should we be, we will meet one another again. And things will be different.

What a gift, the conscious mind is.

I do not let my loving you pain me, rather I attempt to… as much as I can, learn much about myself in loving you. That is a very important thing to consider.

Existential Therapy is one of my favorites.

Existential therapy is based on a broad range of insights, values, and principles derived from phenomenological and existential philosophies.

Where all one’s unlimited potential lies… the unconscious. Life is all about actualization of bliss. That is, to become more of who we must. Also known by Nietzsche as ‘Self-Mastery’. For one to transform, one must explore their not yet discovered depths of their unconscious. That is, in search of the philosopher’s stone—also known as the ‘Ultimate Boon’—the unrealized potentialities hidden within. Thus, all answers you seek are within.

Call to adventure: In the form of an animal. One either answers that call, or stay a victim to be saved. There is also the guide/teacher and ferrymen who assists the adventurer (The Hermit/Heirophant).

The Threshold Guardian: Represents one shadow, the portion of one’s personality which has been rejected, and thus relegated to the surface layers of the unconscious. If one accepts this rejected aspect of themselves, one gains an inner strength.

Through this adventure, one’s previous self begins to disintegrate. Thereupon a more impressive self, is birthed in its place. Death occurs in a dark place, such as in a cave or the belly of a womb. The adventurer will face the light, once they are reborn… (Maternal symbol). Reborn with a new sense of purpose, and strength. The unrealized potential.

An expansion of consciousness and therewith of being. Whilst this is a highly significant moment in one’s life, it is not at all the end of the journey.

With this power, comes the possibility of outer influence to corrup that harnessed potential. Mimicry, and enslavement to the opinion of others can be a prison… however one knows they’ve reached that unique pathway to bliss, if they themselves stand alone, secure, without influence of any other. Of course, this must be maintained, in-order to keep this ‘light’ intact. Easily, it can be lost… and in it being lost, one is called to adventure again.

The perilous journey of creativity, will reveal who we truly are… unto ourselves.

Stop thinking about it. What do you feel? Don’t let your mind rule over the matters of your heart!

Do not get lost in that beautiful mind of yours.

Do not get lost in that beautiful mind of yours!

Please… just. Do. Not. Get. Lost.

Please… find yourself.

Reflection On Existentialism.

As an existentialist, I like to question what gives my life meaning. I will be doing this, until I expire. Thus… this leads me to long periods of isolation, which presage contemplation. Is what I believe, sound? Is it truly authentic to me?

Is this to abide by one’s essence? The adherence to one’s essence (what it means to be you, in totality). Essence reveals to one, their true purpose. Before existentialism, we had essentialism.

Friedrich Nietzche is my favorite philosopher/social critic. My reasoning behind this, has much to do with how much I appreciate the concept of free-will. That human, is responsible for determining their own actions in life. Why do we believe in what we believe in? Did we rightly choose it for ourselves? In all truth, everything matters… and nothing matters, all at the same time. Although, arguably many other philosophers also support this argument. Nietzche has a special place, in my admiration pile because he was ruthless in his criticism toward other philosophers, and philosophies which came before him. A blunt honesty, I appreciate.

To question, whether or not the decisions we make are indeed extensions of our deepest held values. Our virtue ethics, in-which we have integrated, and cultivated within, to become more of who we must.

In this world. Everything, is a matter of opinion regardless.

“The ultimate meaninglessness of life.”

My belief, ultimately is that there is no god who created this world with any particular purpose in mind. Rather, the Universe… in its totality, is indifferent. It is, beyond meaning in its cause and effect. Chaotic, to the human who must find meaning by assigning duality to the Universe… doing as it does. Good, or evil… for instance. What occurs, has nothing to do with karmic retribution. What occurs, does. Nietzsche paved the way for the absurdist, with their seeking answers in an answerless world. Essentially, nothing matters. As human beings, we require meaning. We will cry to a deity, or some perceived god in sheer desperation that they assign meaning to us. The freedom to choose, and to take responsibility for one’s life is a terrifying thought, for many. Rather than go through the arduous path, to decide it for ourselves—we run, for this takes considerable strength. The absurdist believes in no reason, and that there are no guarantees to abide by in this world. No karmic/cosmic justice exists, no fairness, no order, and no rules… these are artifices of meaning, as perceived by human.

Sartre argued that it was freedom, which lead to meaninglessness… a strange thing, which Nietzsche argued, led to ones self-liberation. From my stand-point, I believe that they are one in-the-same, as per Heraclitus’ concept of the ‘Unity Of Opposites’. I believe that a singular instance of something, can only be recognized through its opposition. That a singular instance, will always have two instances within. Yes, the act of comparing… the act of contrast, as how it exists to the ‘other’. Everything it is seemingly not, through essence, is. For instance, man and woman are defined by their differences. It is in their differences, they are equal in my eyes. Arguably, this world exists through the lens of separation and duality, where the pursuit of absolute accuracy limits one’s choice in the matter of truth. That is, as per human convention of perception. What is beyond the beyond, is wholeness.

This ultimate freedom, also links back into what was suggested earlier. The courage, and strength which is required by one who decides to pursue this path. In there being an absence of any kind of authority to seek answers, and guidance from… we are left to fend for ourselves. Vulnerable.

Forgive them, for they are human. Just as foolish, and fragile as I am.


One must accept the full weight of their freedom. No matter how painful, no matter how isolating it may seem… that is the true path to freedom. To have complete command and acceptance, over one’s autonomy. That one creates meaning, and meaning itself is not assigned to them by any other. For… In this world, outside of human being… there is no meaning. Thus, there is no Universal order.

There is no answer, until you choose. That is, to choose authentically… as per one’s values. That was always the choice. That was always the decision. Thus, there is no regret.

I am not bewitched by temporary, instantaneous pleasures. Rather, I exercise self-discipline as much as I possibly can. Not rightly, to control but rather to embrace the absurdity that this world entails. Nothing is guaranteed. I, however do not let my head rule my decision-making… rather, I attempt to let both my emotions and thought guide me to it. The heart must never be lost, in favor for the illusion of cerebral superiority—as if feeling in of itself, is the more weaker, and foolish sensation of the two. No. To lose one’s heart, one loses meaning… for one seeks accuracy, in a world where no such thing exists, in the first place.

By my personal admission. I am described as being intimidating, by others due to my unpredictability. I am blunt, forthright, and I don’t feel the need to play by the demands of social niceties unless my inner-values call for it. I care only, to think in a different way in pursuit of my own truth… away from prevailing opinions of the time. I care deeply, love deeply however (as aforementioned, do not let go of the heart), for that is what leads one to be authentic. If my conscience does not abide, I will not do it… it is simple as that.

Above all else, I choose my individuality. So that I may, open myself to all manner of opinion… just as well, so that I may forever transform myself anew and forever contradict myself in seeking self-mastery.

I question everything I believe in, in seeking liberation. There is no certainty, in this life. The quest for the unknown is elusive, and seductive… the security which certainty offers, is not realistic. It is an illusion at best.

True freedom has nothing to do with privilege, rather it has to do with psychological freedom. The ability to not depend on others, or material things. That all things are temporary, and life itself is in a constant flux of change. Transitory. Therefore, nothing is guaranteed in this world. If one wishes to know, if they are truly free… one must ask themselves if they are able to withstand a lack of human companionship. It is not attachment itself, which is the primary issue. Rather, it is the expenditure of energy onto that attachment, which gives evidence to one’s insecurity toward the absurdity of reality. That is, of course, not to say that one should withhold from feeling anything, or loving… rather, one ought to see that all relationships are not permanent. They are transitory. There is no such thing as forever.

The love which prevails strongly in society, nowadays is toxic love… in that, it has much to do with an excess of will-to-power. That is, it is the opposite to what was suggested earlier. One is not comfortable, with the truth that in life, all is transitory. Those who are ‘toxic’, chain themselves to others… the limitation of true freedom lays bare, for the person who is being chained to, and the person doing the chaining themselves. For, the predicate of toxic relationships is ultimately: control.

True love is the freedom of expression from both individuals. One of a mutual inspiration, for the other. It is not possession. The other is free to do what they will, and one must trust that they will honour you, in a manner in-which you honour them. They’ve the freedom to leave, at any time they please.

Therefore, if one is to love you… that is their decision. One needn’t prove to them, that they ought to. One needn’t beg them, or force them. That is not love, rather it is control. Love, is ultimately is a choice. Love is conditional, in its nature. Selfish, and egoic… however, necessary for human kind. Is it bad, or good? It transcends beyond that.

If one is to love me, that is their decision. If I am to love the other, that is my decision just as well. In this world, with no guarantees.. that is somewhat comforting.

The will to systematize reality, is a sign of dishonesty. That is, dishonesty to the self.

As an Academic, of course I know that… my twenty-six year old brain, has been fried. Yet, again. Who needs drugs?

Explorations Into ‘love’.

A musing, for my own pursuit of mastery. The emptiness that had long since resided in me, presaged by an existential crisis I had suffered at the age of six—I knew I was going to die one day, and this traumatizing guarantee, haunted me throughout the rest of my life… deeply buried in my subconscious, awaiting to be addressed through the future existential crises that would await me.

True friendship is mutual inspiration. True love, is mutual inspiration. The will, and desire to be better in one anothers presence



Work on myself had not begun until my early 20s… thence, at this point in my life (at 27) I have, and will be open to being contradictory to myself. Philosophy intrigues me, however. Admittedly I had sworn off literature and texts associated… in favor for more esoteric, and metaphysical conventions. In my search for my own personal truth, I find this is still unsatisfactory in addressing, as well as rationalizing much of my inner-processes… and by that extension, my understanding of the world around me.

Even then, I’ve clung to ideals: tarot readings (private, and online general readings), fortune tellers, and occult knowledge to address the void which exists within me. I clung to externalities to tell me what truth is… due to my lacking the strength, and courage to take it upon myself to look within. Yes, I relied on others to tell me how things ought to be… that this emptiness within me, needed to be addressed by more programming and reification of the sort. This void… it consists of ones darkest and rejected tidings. One of absolute dissolution, emptiness and uncertainty. At this point in my life, I have arrived at my true purpose in life. To master the self.

In my being enlightened, I realize that spirituality is not what I assume… nor is the esoteric, through my own belief and understanding (just as well, the influence of being exposed to those misguided). The Universe, to me, is indifferent to the struggle of man. There is no good, or evil, in-relation to its order. Whether humanity exists, or perishes, will make no difference. In this conviction, I do not adopt a completely pessimistic stance, however… for I believe in formulating my own ‘meaning’ fit for myself… unique to myself.

My pursuit of love had much to do with my lack of understanding toward it, just as well… the fickle representations/abstractions of it I had been exposed to, by way of culture. We are bombarded with this idea of love as being essential. The answer to all manners of unhappiness, and suffering… yes, that love is ‘all that you need…’

It does not help, that such preachings are tied to religious Dogma, which Friedrich Nietzsche criticized. What is love? Is it demanding? It it controlling? Is it conditional? If it is unconditional… does that mean to say that we allow ourselves to be used, and abused for the sake of upholding that “all-loving” ideal?

For the longest time this is what I had believed in, and I believe it to be my ultimate purpose and goal in life:

Yes, love will fulfill me. Yes. I must find someone who will love me… as it is preached, I will be complete. They will understand me. They will make me suffer, no longer.

Such sentiments are peppered, and scattered into my art. It is more than obvious. I have found that this ‘soulmate’, is not another man. He could never be… rather, he is the idealized version of the ‘self’. Why is he male? Because, unknowingly through culture, we seek that which we wish to create within ourselves anew… in the other (Carl Jung, also calls this the Animus/masculine energy which the feminine desires and vice versa). Even then, in ideal commitments (I will discuss this further), mutual inspiration from one another is a requirement for a relationship to function.

I criticize greatly, that path in-which I had once walked, after desperation and my desire to escape life’s promise of suffering, bubbled to the surface… love was the panacea to my perceived failings. Love would cleanse me anew… I sought future husband readings by way of astrological charts, and readings from internet physics. “This is your soulmate, therefore you cannot resist, but love this person… it is decided by the universe. This is what he looks like, whether you like it or not.”



What utter bullshit that is. Nonsense! How would any single person KNOW who it is you decide to bind your life to? I abandon such an idea… now seeing the fallibility of it. That we are no will to choose, who we decidedly partner ourselves to, for the rest of our lives? That is not what makes, human, human. To surrender all decision, and choice… I did so in my weakest moments, for I did not want to face repercussions of my having chosen wrong. “Therefore O’ Universe/perceived deity or god… please choose for me, for I’ve not the strength to do so myself!”


Enduring love, IS A CHOICE.

In my seeking more understanding in-relation… I realize that this is pure selfishness, on my part. Through evidence of my brief encounters with ‘romance’, I had never loved the other… rather, the idea of them. However much… a bitter pill to swallow, I will admit this truth to myself. I loved, only to serve that purpose within myself. I loved what I wanted to see of the other, never them. The abstraction, and projection (interestingly, even in life partnerships… your partner will still be an abstraction/projection… albeit, to a lesser degree). I loved the surface of them… the physicality, what they could be, as opposed to what they are. In my digging underneath the surface, or when my lust had waned, my feelings would subside.

Pure selfishness. Unabashedly egoic, and greedy… I had not realized this human fascination, was so. After-all, love is sold on every street corner, nestled into the products we assume will complete us, and all of media. Why, we’ve the dating industry capitalizing on this weakness within man, and woman alike! And trust me, I have participated in online dating, in pursuit of that selfish ideal. Disappointment met me, due to the disillusion I held from my naiveté toward what true, and sustaining love is. That… and… well… have you been online dating? Something about the act, always made me feel slimy…

I had obsessed over this notion. Assuming it would be the end, and end all to my life’s suffering. That it would fulfill my life’s purpose. That it was my life’s purpose… to find the one.

In my deconstructing and opposing this belief within me, I had an existential crisis. I wept, and wept out to my surroundings… wailing, “What purpose have I, now that I have found that my desire and longing for love was a lie?” For all I had done, and all I had achieved up until this point in my life was for that idealized love. That only if I loved myself more, or that I worked on myself more… they would come, and I would be complete. We would fall in-love passionately, and such a sensation would last us… well into our twilight years.

Such thought ideals arose during the likes of the Romanticism movement. A movement, I am familiar with through my love of composers, and pianists alike. Romanticism preached the ideas, and of course… ideals, that it is possible, and even expected to romantically partner with someone. That, initial attraction to the other is seen as love. The mistaken assumption, also… additionally is that love is tied to the something which endures, as seen in ‘happily ever-afters’ and so-forth. Before then, marriage and partnering had to do with practical matters, past anything else.


“Romanticism The romanticist, an individual who firmly believes that it is their will against the world, whether their actions are rational or irrational it doesn’t matter. The romanticist will sacrifice everything for their ideals, this in turn will result in unsurpassed and immortal greatness or unrecoverable failure. A romanticist is a creator, an artist, someone that lives on pure freedom and imagination. Nothing constrains a romanticist, for even moral values if meant to be sacrificed for an ideal is but a small price to pay. This results in radical innovations, thinking that deviates from rational analysis. For a romanticist individual, learning comes from failure and the outcome is re-invention. “ (In all truth, I am a romanticist existentialist)


Love at first sight became, and is still the widely accepted notion. It is within this rhetoric, we assume that these lustful feelings will not die… but rather… grow. That we will always have butterflies for one another… and always, will they be sexy to us. Never to disappoint us. Never to hurt us. Never to let us down.

In my diatribe on the matter, I forgive myself somewhat… however. After-all, love is not introduced to us in a matter-of-fact manner. It is purely instinctual, and intuitive. It is not taught to us in schools… rather, we are expected to clumsily navigate it for ourselves, relying on human instinct and agency. How strange that is… What we know, and understand of love, is beyond our control in the seminal years, just as well. Via the influence of our parents (this is not permanent, and can be changed if one is willing to welcome an ego death or two).

It is no wonder why, we have many people who are afraid of love. There is no certainty, there is no understanding. The vague emotional states that we are thrown into… “Yes, I want to jump his bones… is this love?”—and we are expected to just roll with it. That is what culture portends. Yes, this is what falling in-love is. We live in a society and culture, that has little understanding of what true love is. Romantic Comedies? Never again. Disney princesses? True love does not heal all.

Friedrich Nietzsche’s writings (one of my favorite philosophers, as an existentialist, myself) illuminated me to this reality of love. He, as well as Plato’s “Symposium On Love” and Schopenhauer’s more darker reflections on reality. The way I had approached love was purely idealistic, one that was assumed to be based upon the idea of ‘selflessness’. That to love the other, is not a selfish act… nor does it coincide with greed. Just as well, this idea… in my alluding to Aristophanes’ story on our never-ending quest to find one another (soulmates) had deluded me of the reality. That we are not complete, until we found that one. And oh… how the pop ballads sing “My whole world began, when I met youuuuuu!” Even then, I am certain that Aristophanes wasn’t serious… I think he was just bullshitting…



Anyhow… love, ultimately, just like everything else to humankind… is a will to power. Ideal connections, and relationships ARE a mutual exchange in will to power.

I strive, therefore to one day love a person due to their fulfilling me… and my fulfilling them. That there is mutual inspiration sourced from one another. Just as well, even without eros (sexual attraction/love) we are best-friends. I would much prefer, I marry someone that I can have long conversations with… than someone who gives me the fleeting, soon to diminish feeling of butterflies. What we love, is not another person… but rather an abstraction. Eroticism permeates all of life, even to the higher annals of spirituality. Of course, in love it is important… however, it is not what a relationship with endurance should strictly consist of. Want that? Go on tinder and have some more one-night stands.

Love which endures, is ultimately a choice. We will annoy one another, anger one another… One day, the sexual attraction I had toward you, will diminish… you will feel the same, just as well… but at least I can talk to you about anything. At least we can rely, and depend on one another. At least we can still spend hours and hours, talking about anything. We mutually inspire one another, to be better… and to improve, just as well.

That is the love, I am after. One enduring, not passionate… or strictly erotic. One stable.

And in my stating this as such, Initially, I had assumed that love itself was ethereal…

Now, this man I had once ‘dreamed of’ is placed into the realm of possibility… no more a caricature of this idealization I projected onto the other… as opposed to myself. But a real man. One in the flesh. One with flaws. One I love, and one I’ve yet to know. With you, there is no waiting.

I’ve Been Drawing You All Along…

One.
AI Composite.
What AI, supposes he looks like in facial-features.
The Sir.

I flip-flop between believing in fate, and also believing in the notion of ‘soulmates’… although, something deep within me, always brings me back to that belief.

On occasion, I like to delve into the occult. Receiving readings, or getting drawings done… even drawing from my mind, to try and find out who this is.

I call him “Alexander”, even though that isn’t rightly his name. It just seems rather ‘fitting’.

I’ve found him in traces of everyone I’ve ever became infatuated with… or, ever been in a relationship with. Had I ever encountered him physically?

The answer is ‘no’. I know that he rightly exists, however.

Subconsciously, I’ve been drawing him…



And even when I do find him, I’ll still… continue to draw him. He is my muse.

Taking Yourself Out On Dates.

There is a lot of pressure, especially in this society for people to couple with one another. The need to settle quick and fast, is what… I believe accounts for the high divorce rates nowadays.

As a twenty-five year old woman, and welcoming myself back into the dating scene… I don’t have a sense of urgency to settle, as I formerly did during my youth. For me, I do not need a man. I want a man. During courtship, if I am unappeased in any manner, or if any of my boundaries are crossed. I simply cut ties, and that’s it. I move on. There is no loss, for me. Continuing any further would be an ample waste of time for me, as well as energy. I’ve better things to do.

Although I had only just began, three years ago, working on myself as a person I see that there is still much work to do on myself. At the age of twenty-five… I view this as an optimal time. To do all of what I desire, to go to wherever I wish, to take up any hobby that my heart, well pleases! (piano and music theory) I am free to do what I wish. I’ve no obligations, no responsibilities and I am infinitely lucky. The time is ripe for myself.

And so, for the first time, I decidedly used my Sunday off to take myself out on a date.

I walked around the city, marveling at the beauty of the sights, smells, and cacophony emerging from… what could only be best described as an orchestral profession of crowds. The smell of singed meat on the BBQ stoves, the beautiful flowers, the children thrashing about in the communal pools, the skateboarding youth and joggers who added to the picturesque land-scape of my view. A strange calm came over me, as I strolled around observing people. I felt as if I were in a dream. Families, couples, and the odd homeless person or two graced my senses. Each with a story, only known to their sacred inner-circle. “People are just so infinitely interesting” I thought to myself. Some people had noticed me, and flashed me a smile. Some had even waved. A friendly gesture, which warmed my heart and yet… felt so strange. As soon as the exchange was made, the people would of course be quick to go about their businesses. I would become invisible again. Free to wander around, and admire the handiwork of this world without interruption. I felt as if I were god, generating and organizing this reality with my own filter of consciousness.

From all of my walking, I then had to add bandages to my blistered feet. My leather loafers bit into my heels, by way of my enthusiasm in covering as much of that portion of the city as possible. Whilst I tended to myself, an odd fellow approached me. Looking rather unsettled, he would point jarringly at my bandages and spit out nonsense that I couldn’t recollect. I would look past him, not acknowledging his presence. Signaling the vibe for him to back off. And much to my surprise, he did. I thought then “All of my working on myself is paying off…”

There upon. I had the opportunity to wander around my University. It was abandoned, after the Pandemic had led to a closure on many establishments. Doors were locked, the Campus empty… signs detailing the onslaught of fear and panic, with “Social-distancing” littering the expanse. The Café all boarded up, and chairs and tables, akin to a lifeless bodies stacked against its front wall. A complete ghost-town. And yet, in eying my reflection in the multitude of glass-panel windows and doors, I saw myself. Although I was physically alone, I didn’t feel that way. I enjoyed that echo of mine self, and I sunk deeply into the moment. I would dance, and tap my feet… allowing that impression of myself to follow suit. “We are both like puppets, on a Broadway stage… aren’t we?” All the while… the undulating, and familiar hums of “The Best Of Frederich Chopin” radiated from my noise-canceling headphones. Into my ears. Into my heart. Into my soul. The moment, through poignant imagery and sound now branded to memory. A sensation I desired to have again.

There upon. I attended a museum exhibit, and drunk in the sensual pleasures which resulted. The political commentary, the peppering of violence and sex in the displays–a common feature, no doubt in regard to contemporary art. I still remember that visual experience. That sensation. That emotion. I want it again… in writing this. And strangely enough, it was just me the entire time. Enjoying my own company. Enjoying my own time. I eyed couples who had also attended the exhibit. The museum exhibit, a common dating staple, to have poor fools who converse about their surroundings as opposed to each-other. Why is it, we are afraid to face one-another… yet we claim to love one-another? The cinema is a similar place. Stare at a screen. Do not bother about each-other.

My being solo had led me to reflect and observe these couples. Walking hand-in-hand, with much lust in their eyes, for one another. The giddy smiles, the queasy gestures. Their hands surfacing over the ‘designated’ places, where they ought to touch one another… their little conversations, that may later relegated to mere fluff. Ornamental, they felt to me. Yet, I felt compassion as I gazed down from the second floor, upon their little bobbing heads. Helpless fish, thrashing about. The curators, shuffling back and forth underneath to color that image with more ‘excitement’. Poor creatures… I wonder if they wonder what tomorrow may bring. I wonder if they wonder…

Wondering if you’re wondering, that I’m wondering… or perhaps to lead one to wonder again?

“How could they look so alone, even though they’re with one another?”

Was I envious? Strangely enough. No. In my being solo, there was no one to hurry me along, or annoy me with their banal conversation. I could take as long as I wished to truly enjoy what was on display. For it to leave a lasting impression. For this moment to be for myself, and no-one else. An instance of this rushing I had observed within those traveling in a pair of more, was that their attention was not theirs entirely. It was sacrificed for the good of those accompanying them. This revelation came upon me, when I saw that I was the last individual to sit through an entire Art film, whilst others had left. The raunchiness of the film, the absurdity. I saw it in their eyes. Glazed over. They were not attending to the piece. They were more fixated on others… and of course, themselves.

I came from being someone with little value of myself. I cared deeply to show compassion to others, at the cost of my own being… at the cost of my own character. My value was at their beck and call. From that moment, I realized I had changed. Now, I see that only some people are worthy of that tenderness. That softness. Not all. And that when people do things, there is no reason to get upset. People will do what they will do. I never had any say, or control over their agency in the first place. And why should I?

And I decided that the one who deserves that the most. Is me.

This is what it’s like huh?

Then I came to the conclusion:
“I can make beautiful memories with myself. And yet, I fooled myself for years and years thinking that my life will only begin when the right man enters the picture.”

I learnt that day, that I am just as happy and complete alone. I will take myself out on dates, anywhere I please from, now on.

There is no place, I won’t go to.

Valuing Yourself.

Before 2020 ends, It is important for myself that I ought to be honest. Always.

I like to be openly honest. Not to allow myself to be vulnerable… but to more or less place higher expectations on myself, and to of course improve as a person. If I have but one true purpose in this life, it is to find my true value in this life. Nothing else.

Some people may fear doing so, in speaking about themselves or publishing snippets of their lives on blogs. That’s understandable, I used to fear doing so for years. For me, my comfort is garnered from the reality that a. no one truly cares, b. I’m writing for myself, past anyone else and c. I’m forever evolving as a person. I have nothing to hide. Even with the walls of text I am prone to write, I still don’t reveal all of myself. I simply can’t, no matter how much I desire to. Therefore, this should further solidify my justification. This post will age, for certain, and with its aging, I will have matured into a different person, by then… as I have been, since I firstly began on this journey to retrieve myself.

I write a lot. Anyone who has corresponded with me, can attest to the amount of detail I put within letters. I enjoy writing… so a lot of people may make the false assumption that I am obsessed with myself to an unhealthy degree. On the contrary, I do not fantasize about myself (after this post, I now do)… rather, I project what I long within myself onto others. Therefore, this would suggest that I have much more work to do on myself.

I should be fantasizing about myself, that’s where I’ve been going wrong.

Problem area #1. infatuation and crushes.

I’ve recently entered into the dating scene again… not primarily for the reason of attempting to find love, but more or less for the reason that I’m interested in testing how much confidence I’ve garnered through the years. Initially, I had suffered with severely low self-esteem in my youth. ‘Extremely low’, by that measure would be an absolute understatement. I hated myself for many years. This hatred is a product of a number of things… firstly, one being with how I experience the world. My being Autistic (Asperger’s) leads me to be hyper-sensitive and anxious a lot of the time. Just as well, my being different and idiosyncratic to others is instantly recognized… and I was severely bullied as a child for this reason. The perfect recipe for low self-esteem, and the funny thing is that… I didn’t even know I had low self-esteem ’til three years ago. My initial low self-esteem led to a very damaging and toxic relationship. When you have no self-worth for yourself, anyone will do.

However, I do not regret this relationship. Just as well as everything in life, despite the pain, for it led me to realize: “Ah yes, I hate myself don’t I?”

And so, began three years of work on myself… and now, the results:
I am two years away from a PhD, financially independent, and I have taken up piano and music theory. I have developed a voice of my own, and assertiveness. I take myself out on dates, wherever I desire: The art gallery, piano recitals, concerts. Years ago, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to do that. However, I still have many blindspots to myself that I must iron out.

One of main issues in life is crushes and infatuations. They serve no purpose, and are of no use to me… yet they have sustained my fascination toward the unknown, throughout my twenty-five years. My infatuations would be very intense and long. I have in-fact been single for a majority of my life by choice, and my infatuations and have sustained me for one to two years. Such obsessions and inclinations have nearly destroyed me, and you know why? I was too stubborn for years, to let go of these fascinations due to my fear that I wouldn’t be able to draw.

OH! Heaven forbid that I don’t have some ideal–some muse to draw! HEAVEN FORBID! Yes, I’m a lot like Hector Berlioz… sadly. Minus the genius. Berlioz always had to be infatuated, or he couldn’t create.

The ultimate.

And although that was the narrative Berlioz told himself, I believe I can change mine.

What I draw, is essentially my projection of the imago of this desire onto the object (individual). My fascination of the opposite sex, all has to do with a desire deep within myself to unionize the unrecognized aspects of the self.

Infatuation can only happen from when you are distanced from the object, or you just simply don’t know them enough. For me, it’s perfect. I could fantasize and imagine the way this person is, in any fashion I would like. Selfish? Absolutely. Which leads me toward that desire of rectifying it, in the first place.

The rush of fantasizing about scenarios in one’s mind, much-like a film reel of romantic montages is like that of a dopamine hit. I have clung to it for years. Oh, for so long… I have longed for an idealized image of someone who is my counterpart. The unreachable. For so long… and this is a guilty admission that I have kept to myself for all of my life, due to a lack of understanding. This is an unhealthy, obsessive fascination which boarders on absolute lunacy. My infatuations would be long, and detailed within the space of my mind. I would fantasize about objects of desire, and how great I thought they were. How wonderful it would to be with them. To talk to them. For them to understand me. For them to hold me. And so… this desire would fuel me during courtship. I would take the initiative, and pursue my object of interest with tenacity. Leading the conversation along, as it were. Taking a stronger approach as opposed to being meek. When I see something, I have all intention of attaining that goal. And of course, this scares men off. They go running for the hills.

Was it desperation then?

No? For me, that never occurred to me. Subtlety isn’t something that I can do naturally, however it’s the forte of the feminine, apparently. If I like a guy, I like a guy. I tell him, and whilst doing so, I set boundaries. I am impatient, and I don’t like wasting time truth be. Either, the guy likes me or not. If he doesn’t, he can fuck off. Simple as that. I can seem rather forceful. Rather intense. I know that to be certain. Is that the main problem? No, because in all truth I don’t care if they run. It’s the feelings I am left with, that are far worse (even if I have another guy to replace the former guy). And they aren’t a symptom of the fellas who run. It’s a symptom which leads one to ask “Why.”

Causation: Lack Of Self Love.

This is the reason: It is within these objects of desire I see lack, not a lack of their presence (although, that is a very important thing) but a lack within myself. My longing, and fantasizing for someone else is evidence of the still present lack of self-confidence within.

For years… I finally figured it out. I wanted someone to complete me. I wanted happily ever after. I wanted roses. I wanted that nastiness–that emptiness within me to go away. To subside. But you know what? That isn’t addressing the issue at all. No man could ever complete me, no matter how perfect he appears to be. No one should EVER place their condition of happiness on someone else. EVER. No-one is responsible, at the end of the day for how you feel.

People are unpredictable, nasty and damaged themselves. People will let you down again, and again.

Therefore, the responsibility of happiness shouldn’t be placed unfairly on others. Always, the responsibility is yours. You decide, and you choose your happiness.

In your life, you are number one. Always. Number one! I know it’s cliched, but damn if there isn’t any truth in it. You must love yourself before someone can love you. It’s that simple.

Just as well, place expectations on no-one. People will do what they will fucking do. No-one is predictable. No-one.

Ultimately. When it comes to a crush: tell yourself, it isn’t true. Because it isn’t. That there is as fake. You don’t want fake. You want real.


The fake imago that I had built up in my mind, through strangers all had one thing in common:
They would adore me.
They would understand me.
We would have long drawn-out conversations together.
And they would love me.

Therefore… I had all I needed to know. I now needed to do all of those things for myself. I needed to give myself all of those things, and that is what I am now in the process of doing.

I see this disease is found, not just in myself… but others too. We all desire for ‘love’, yet none of us know what love is truthfully. I myself, do not know what it is, in regard to Idealizations, and seeing past the ‘good’ of the person.

Everyone has darkness to them. Everyone.

One day, I am certain that I WILL love. However, love truly is mysterious. Lust isn’t love… love has staying power. Love is getting to know someone for years, and years. With all of their damage. With all of their ugliness. With all of the gross and disturbing truths. People are gross close-up, did you know that? Love is all about staying for the reality of those things, despite that, you stay! That is what love is.

Heuheuheuheuhe, also divorces are at all time high nowadays. Did’yaknowdit?

What does one do?

DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON ANYONE. EVER. Sure, they look nice. Sure… but did you know that they shit, fart, and masturbate like everyone else? Also, 9/10 they’re emotionally stunted and don’t bloody know what they want. There you go, cured. But I hear you saying “What If I see them with another –” Yeah, don’t just look… stare. Take it all in. That’s their problem now! See, I fixed you. They not only get the sweetness of that person. They get all the ugliness too… ohohohohohohoh~

That there, is just a human being. The meaning you assign to the human being through your eidetic experience, is how you perceive the being. Your subconscious is the one that’s kicking you in the ass, my lovely. Instead, your mind ought to be occupied with fantasies and admiration of yourself, as opposed to some cookie-cutter ‘dream’ cooked up from the recesses of your subconscious.

Although, if you do have crushes you simply can’t be rid of… treat them as if they’re fiction. You know? Movies, or celebrities. I like to daydream about Frederic Chopin every now and again, but that doesn’t mean I’m obsessed with him (to be fair, he is my phone’s wallpaper though). Hahaha, hell no! Stay dead, ghostie! Chopin is my go-to material for enjoyment. In my daydreams, he plays me all the Nocturnes I want on demand. And, he also bitches about Franz Liszt and tells me that he’s in awful pain all of the time. Then I laugh to myself and say “Oh Chopin, you so crazy~” My imagined Chopin is more reliable than anyone else, and yet… I still know he’s fiction. Because he’s dead, heheuheuhehueheuhe.

Chopin was a finely dressed peacock. Very sensitive, deep inside… he had a tendency to alienate his friends over time. His ego fragile. and his mindset overly negative. Deep inside, however Chopin’s heart was sentimental. Chopin was ugly and beautiful. Chopin will always be my go-to fantasy. One day, I will play Chopin on piano. And he will be with me, finally…

Meryl has a dead boyfriend. Meryl has a dead boyfriend. Meryl has a dead boyfriend~

No! Meryl has a dead husband. Get it right. He’s my husband in my daydreams!

Although, daydreaming about yourself is really what you ought to be doing past the object of desire. Honestly. For example, I like to daydream that I’m playing in front of an audience, and my hands have the same dexterity and agility as my teacher’s… when I’m like 30 or 35. And then, for some reason Frederic Chopin comes out of nowhere and starts making out with me.

Also, depersonalize people you’re interested in.
Have the least bit amount of faith in them, especially in the early stages.
A majority of people you cross paths with in your life, WILL NOT WORK OUT.

Sing it with me.

Don’t expect them to contact you.
Your world doesn’t revolve around anyone else.
Don’t put them on a pedestal.
They won’t ever prove anything to you.
Don’t believe their words.
Always expect that they will fuck up, because they will.
Replies are shit? Do the same.
Look at their actions. They are already fucking up.
Ghosted you? Then fuck them off.

You’ve got no time for that shit!

You have your own life to live. You have lived without them, and you can easily live without them now.

And don’t give them second chances. Fuck them off for good. Use your ‘tegridy! There’s billions of people this world, mang. Don’t be wasting your time on someone that’s wasting yours. With my disappointments, I always get new replacements and the fun begins again!



GET YOURSELF SOME QUALITY! DON’T SETTLE FOR LESS.

In my observation. I have learnt much.

I have now decided to never have a crush or infatuation on anyone (alive) ever. My sister, in her infinite wisdom… and her having more dating experience, told me that she doesn’t develop crushes, anymore because she just knows it’s a load of phooey. From the land of make believe. People aren’t impressive up-close. People are just people. Therefore, that’s all the justification one needs.


” No one could ever live up to the idealizations within my mind. No-one. Mere illusion are what these fantasies are, and figments of my psyche past anyone else. To place such standards on others, are of pure selfishness and masochism on myself. “

Wish me luck. When this post ages, I hope to hell that I’ve made progress.

But Meryl, what will you draw if you abandon crushes? Have you seen the world? There is a lot of shit out there to draw. A lot.

Who knows what will capture my interest? That is the ultimate beauty of it all.

Side bar advice:
Don’t ever change yourself for anyone else, except yourself. Always. And as my former viola teacher used to say

“Does it look like I care?”

Fuck no, Mr. Viola man. Fuck no.