Learning to “potter around” today.
I’ve always been an all or nothing type when it comes to doing house work.
The theme this week has been “feeling good no matter what”. Surprise! 
The last few days have been a pretty stable base line, and it feels good to have seen the subtle way it works.
So often, i am skipping from one idea/“fact” /belief to the next in my thinking when i am in my usual MO of a high functioning sub-clinical depression. (yep, that’s what i think i have been, or maybe something else, that sounds way too fancy😜).
Feeling good, my mind can wander further. See more.
For example, i go for long walks around my suburb everyday. Today, when turning on to my street, an attractive woman was at her letterbox. I noticed her, and kept walking. i walked on, but about 20 metres away, i looked back. She was still standing there, looking at me.
I kept walking, but obviously was thinking about it. My initial thought was the obvious one, “i should have waved, or said” hi"". Why didn’t I?
It was actually quite funny later. I had gone for another walk, and was thinking about how i could meet her. (it wasn’t actually obvious which home she lives in). Then of course, i saw how weird it would be to make any attempt at doing that.
She could have been looking at me because my shorts had a weird pattern on them, maybe i looked suspicious. My favourite, of course, is the she found me attractive option!
Anyway, as i was thinking about all of this, i was feeling good and otherwise enjoying the walk. (I’ve been walking a lot more than usual as i want to get fit again).
Then is occurred to me, something “outside” the normal parade of reasons, beliefs, desires etc.
I felt guilty. Guilty that I hadn’t said anything (even though it’s silly situation), i felt in myself something very instinctually raw.
That i had an “obligation” to desire, persue, and otherwise try and get, any attractive woman.
That i was letting someone down. I guess that someone is nature.
Maybe this “guilty” feeling about not doing what a man is " meant" to do, in this case approach attractive women, is what Richard means when he say “compliant soul”.
In my heart of hearts, i comply to what a man is according to some deeply stored instinctual program.
Given the correct triggers, i will automatically comply, or fail to and feel guilty.
Earlier this evening i saw the belief in me that women are intrinsically good. That deep down, they are morally good. Which is, i guess, part of that mummy’s boy thing. Oedipus Complex sounds cooler. 
And it’s probably these two things, a compliant soul and the belief in the moral good of women, which makes me easy to manipulate.
I always just saw the beauty aspect. But there seems to be more to it.
Like i said, feeling good seems to lead to better internal conversations, and freer thinking.
“do the right thing, be a man!”
I was walking along after making the sensible decision to eat a healthy dinner, when i went back to feeling bad about the extra fat i have these days. (i have been feeling it for ages,)
Then it occurred to me; my whole reason for living in that moment was to feel bad about my gut! 
Silliness actually seen. 
Feeling good.
What is my reason for living right now? To feel good and enjoy, or bad and suffer?
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Так, вот я здесь. Сейчас. Еще один день, чтобы повеселиться.
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ты просто легенда. ты уже смотрел “офисное пространство”?
Спасибо. Еще нет, когда-нибудь буду.
I was just kissing my hands.
You know, it’s a magical thing. How did i get my father’s hands? How did I get here?
I was looking in the mirror last night, and I wondered who is it judging the face I see?
My hands seem big. I remember seeing them as huge so many times when I woke up as a kid.
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Tears rolling down my face…it’s ok. I have cheeks that tears can roll down. This is nice. If this is all i ever get, then it’s more than most.
If my heart stops pumping, then it’s been great. Better than than most humans even had the inclination to hope for.
There is nothing to be sorry about. Nothing to pity.
Everything resolving everything. Everything without end.
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There is a theme that keeps emerging when i notice my feelings (and learn about how others are feeling, especially women).
Our feelings aren’t really for us.
Even the most famous feeling that men have, sexual desire, isn’t really for me.
What i mean is, the narrative is flipping on itself for me.
The traditional narrative, that desire is me being selfish, individually, isn’t really what is happening.
It’s a collective thing. My desire is a trick. It’s to get me to behave in ways that are beneficial to something behind the scenes.
It’s precisely because of my desire that i am manipulated.
They are in fact (it seems to me now), the very same thing. Desire is manipulation.
Orwell talks about power being pain. They are the same thing in some almost incomprehensible way. Wielding power comes from being in pain, and the power is the very pain manifest as power.
Desire comes from the manipulation. It’s pain.
Hmm, too many words.
Moving from the base line of ordinary feeling good is pain. In any direction.
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I am hesitant to post, what with all this purity floating around. Wouldn’t want to jinx it.
But, well, you know me if you have read anything.
So much of the real world is completely fake. I mean, just utter lies and trash.
I think (therefore it is, thanks Richard), that the real fundamentally knows that it’s fake and there is no actual future.
The fear i see in women is such a substantial barrier. They really feel that unless they worry the be-jesus outta everything, nothing will exist anymore.
And so it goes, tits and ass and a pretty face (once upon a time), is what the real entrusts with its future.
There really is no future. None at all.
Yet, i can see how i fundamentally already knew this.
It’s my time to plan. Which sounds contradictory. Yet, it’s the plan which is enjoyable. It does not matter if a plan doesn’t happen. It’s the planning which is fun.
Being fun, a plan is the actualism method.
My current plan is too earn the trust of a millionaires daughter, then make good with one of the attractive women at work. I am not pretending. This is actually a fun plan.
How is this for convoluted; i am the official “boss” of the daughter of the man who started the company i work for.
And they say management is hard. Try this for size!!
Actually enjoying the dynamic.
I love seemingly unsolvable puzzles.
I understand why so many “lurk” and don’t post anything. It’s the perception, as it is everywhere online, that one will “spoil” something.
Richard talks about this, as in, “excuse me for existing”, as if i am taking up space for someone more worthy of existing than me.
This constant worry thing. It’s funny I was reading this as my wife was having a panic over something I couldn’t give a rat’s tail about. It felt so easy at that moment to agree with you. But then I remembered that I worry about all kinds of crap that no one else seems to be phased by. It’s like we equate fear with the feminine. The refrain when a man is shaking in his boots about something: “You’re acting like a bitch!”
To what ends, my friend??
Haha, no goal, just a plan, without any real meaning. Who knows?
I think that when women “stake out” certain “fear territory” we have no choice but to reject them and the territory.
Of course, much of that territory we actually do care about, eg, our childrens future, but as men we have already “staked out” the “we won’t get there by being afraid” territory.
So, we can’t directly confront it, because, well, “reasons”, but we can’t get on board because, well, “fear sucks”.
I don’t fear it at all. Only because i am in that unenviable position of knowing that fear, caring, and love don’t work.
The fear women get away with, what-for being the possessors of the womb, and attractive pink bits, is the very heart of the human condition.
Trying to survive, in an otherwise uncontrollable universe.
If it were not for the stupidity of men chasing “tail”, freedom would have been the default millennia ago.
The fear i feel isn’t that my children my die and suffer, but they may will live the pathetic life i lived. That they won’t live at all, is what i am saying.
The greatest trick the devil pulled, was to disguise itself as a mother. A caring mother, that cannot be questioned.
I am chastised for not being a good son, boyfriend, husband, father. Yet, it is precisely because i am not these things that my sons stand a chance of enjoyment.
True, and so it well may be.
But, and it is often an attractive butt, why do we continue?
Our children want to be happy. Do things they enjoy. Yet, we know, buried in their skulls is the same forces that will make it impossible for the same to happen.
What to do?
Women fear, and men hope. Too simplistic, for sure. As often, men fear being cut off from being the object of female nurturing. Female nurture, is a weird combination of affection and fear. Highly valued. “Mother Mary” type stuff.
“Everyone needs a bossom for a pillow”