The fun thing to contemplate - what happens when a survival program embraces death? 
For isn’t the escape from death it’s raison d’etre?
Do ‘I’ not have to continue resisting death in order to remain in existence?
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‘I’ gotta be resisting something all the time. It kind of doesn’t matter what. But the whole program is there for survival, so ultimately everything reflects back to death, whether of the individual or the group.
That’s where the altruism aspect comes in… leveraging the well-being of the group over the survival of the individual ‘me’ (which is ultimately the same as the collective ‘me’)
Yes, this sums up many aspects of my approach.
What I am beginning to see is that I have the opportunity to be normal, to work towards things which may improve my lot. Without any guarantee.
Which is what I have to work with. Without any experience of PCE, only a few scattered moments of something other, working with normal is the way forward.
There may be no forward in the literal sense, however it’s simply not sensible to not otherwise ignore the get busy living advice which I always ignored.
I was never really busy living, I was busy escaping living. In a lot of cases I have been and continue to be busy dying; not enjoying the process of living, however uncertain living is.
This interview with Bob Gunton who played the warden in Shawshank Redemption, is extremely insightful.
That and watching Arnold Schwarzeneggers Netflix special, really brought home the idea that Gunton talks about; an earnt happiness.
Doing the work.
Enjoying the work.
The goal is of course there, however the work isn’t a necessary evil, but an opportunity to live.
I have personally talked with an Iranian who walked across a desert after years of prison and scheduled torture. (Literally being tortured every 5th day for 2 years). His sister had it far worse.
Whilst Shawshank is fiction, there are real life stories of a similar determination, if not even more remarkable.
I found Arnold’s story actually very inspiring. He was hugely influential on me as a teenage boy. I never knew his story though, beyond a few things.
His story actually made me realise I have been sabotaging myself as to not appear selfish. Functionally, I am selfish anyway, yet I maintain a veneer of noble selflessness.
Again, I am not an actualist. So my comments are me choosing to reflect on what I can do, with what I have.
I have lived in a way that dreams of some future justification. That my failure will be forgiven.
It’s not true. There will never be a “judgement day” , a reckoning and vindication of my struggles.
The living is it’s own vindication. The tunnel in Shawshank isn’t just a way of escape, but a way of life. It’s creation could have been discovered and stopped, the walls could have collapsed.
The Iranian I met could have died in the desert. Been found and shot. Starved, died of thirst.
Both ends of the spectrum, from the slow steady goals of Arnold, to the far shorter and dangerous escape across a desert, have the determination to live.
Yet, it doesn’t have to be spectacular or a feat of exceptional endurance.
Simply going to the gym. Enrolling to study. Sleeping well. Looking after my life properly.
These are so low in my esteem. As if the are a burden and not the main goal.
I had quite a phenomenal experience this afternoon.
(These days I must preface that no mushrooms were involved).
I have been getting right into the longevity community online.
I ended up watching 3 hours of highly detailed YouTube on the subject and bought a bag full of supplements to suit.
Having found only a handful at my local chemist, I went for a scooter ride down to the light industrial area which has many retailers as well.
On the way I had the experience, whilst riding the route I take everyday to work, of being 10 feet tall.
I perceived the world as if I was a giant. Doing around 25-30km/hr on my scooter, I seemed to tower above the world around me. Like a giant.
It was a very amazing experience.
I am 5’11", but I perceived myself to be 10 foot tall. Not just for a moment either, but the entire 10 minutes.
Even on the way back, there was this immense pleasure at what I was doing. I considered riding the whole route again just to prolong it.
Longevity is such an amazing area of discovery for me.
I don’t really even care about staying alive. I really don’t. There is an embarrassment of dying now, but no fear of it directly.
The fascination of what I was watching, I think shifted my perception.
This is one of the videos I was watching;
An insatiable narcissism lives in all people.
There is never enough.
What I am noticing most is that is makes no sense. At all.
Let me attempt a eloquent explanation.
My mother chose my father based 90% on his looks.
There was nothing he has to offer apart from one of the most masculine faces you are likely to see.
I surmise that because of this, I am “fated” to be emotionally attached to the unattainable.
The more unattainable the better, it would seem.
As one ages, the expectations about who one is rises. At 47, I am “meant” to be some paragon of maturity and wisdom.
I am nothing of the sort.
I hold , emotionally, this idea of being nurtured by the unattainable. My father. (deceased circa 15 years ago).
What a nonsensical situation.
I am drawn to those who are attractive, yet abusive.
I am not the only one though. Nothing special going on here. Even though my own progenitors where caught squarely in the mire.
Lewis Capaldi is the premier artist of this generation. By a long long way.
The idea of redemption of the unattainable turning to notice one.
The power of my own reality is based in this nonsense.
Such compelling nonsense.
For reference, my father in this photo was around 55 years old.
I am standing on a platform.
Genetics are everything. Absolutely and without a doubt, everything. I am 17/18 years.
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Anywho.
What all of this leads me to conclude, is it’s pointless to fight it.
The shear power of genetics, the why it shapes “self”, means my best move is to stop fighting it.
I am not an actualist.
I tried.
I have zero qualms with it. No ultimate objections to what it is and those who pursue it.
I have to make a decision though.
Considering, if I chose to continue to employ the latest in longevity science, I could have up to 40 more years to live, what to do?
The lesson on my life is attraction is everything.
Whilst I am still reproductively viable, there really is only one choice as a non-actualist.
Get busy reproducing, or get busy dying.
До свидания.
Apologies, I was still being cryptic.
What I mean, is if I continue to live in this society, with these desires, there is no end to the miserable chasing after the unattainable.
I need to move.
To do what is natural. However unactualist that is.
I won’t be able to enjoy life here in the west.
I am far beneath the narcissistic goals of the women here.
Whilst I recognise that that narcissism is universal, it also has a gestation period.
It takes time for it to develop.
My best bet is to move to the Philippines. To marry a genetically suitable woman, and live out my natural days reproducing. To run down the clock of her narcissism, and otherwise be the one in control.
I have a contact there. A way to earn good money. And another contract in Malaysia.
Without going into details, I can make good money.
It’s that or continue to rot in Perth.
To continue to be rejected and otherwise unattractive to the women here.
Why live alone and in the “end game” of female narcissism?
Even my FWB, who is 41 regards herself, against all evidence, to be “mother material”.
It’s ridiculous.
I have no doubt that a Filipina woman will, in time, develop the same levels of insanity.
However, one can only work with the reality one is dealing with. No “squotes” are going to change that.
Dr Suess wrote a parable in the 1950s about native hunters who devised a trap for monkeys.
The natives would bait a tree stump which had only a “monkey sized fist” hole in it with tantalising fruits.
The monkeys would grasp the fruit, but as the hole was only big enough for their unclenched fist to fit through, they would become trapped when they refused to let go of the fruit.
The hunter would only then need to stroll up to the grasping monkey and club it to death.
It’s greed would ensure that it didn’t let go of the fruit. It could easily have evaded the hunter had it dropped the fruit.
Such a compelling parable.
Why hold onto that which entraps one?
Let it go.
@Andrew Have you considered that maybe this evolutionary theory kind of approach you are taking is just as much of a belief as all the other stuff?
It is essentially using evolutionary theory to justify the belief that you can’t change human nature. Epitomised by things like ‘well I’m a man so I am driven to look for many sexual partners by nature’.
What if you were to allow that this kind of viewpoint is simply a belief, it is something that was invented in order to justify ‘my’ rottenness. None of this stuff that you were apparently fated to be is set in stone, that is a belief and a popular one for sure, the problem is that it has scientific credence so it can be hard to allow that it is a belief only, it is a big lie after all though.
To echo what @Kub933 is saying, rather than looking at the content of this stuff, look at your emotional investment in why you need all this to be true.
Thanks for the replies.
Honestly, I haven’t considered that any of what I was talking about is a belief.
Weird hey?
I can see the belief in it.
I will contemplate that more.
The underlying feeling was always the unattainable being desired. Which had a strong “beauty” content, but there is the underlying narcissism in myself connected with that.
What I think keeps me locked in place is the attachment to rejection.
My feelings are towards a waiting game.
Yet, it’s my persistence in waiting which doesn’t allow me to experience alternative solutions.
I have all these actualist -type beliefs too. That I must do some sorta practice to avoid the evil of being normal.
Instead of staying stuck here, I want to explore. In the normal way.
Maybe along the way I will have a PCE and all of this will become clearer.
Hi Andrew 
I sense quite a bit of resentment towards women here, particularly western women. Which, I completely understand. I can see how frustrating it can be for men in the western society trying to connect with women.
However, I don’t see it as narcissistic goals. I think women aren’t held accountable for being horrible and sly. They aren’t held to the same standard in certain aspects, simply because they are female and hold the covert underlying power.
It is also so ingrained in us it’s really tricky to dig out and expose, so alot of the times we don’t even know that we hold this kind of power and we are also told from such a young age that men are horrible, but you also rely on them. It gets confusing and ends up turning into us resenting men for the overt power in the same way men resent women. I think the conditioning is the issue here.
Because the overt power men hold is so blatantly obvious, it can be easily challenged and thats why its turned into this thing of women who are just as horrible having the view that they “deserve more” They will use this obvious overt power as a way to justify their actions and they can get away with it. In the same way certain men will use their overt power over women.
Kuba and I used to have countless discussions about the age old battle of power between men and women.
They always lasted hours, I would go around in circles for hours fighting against him. But eventually, after quite a while 
I have come to a place where I can actually see the role I play as a women in human suffering. There is a way that men and women can squash this
Also, I don’t think marrying a Filipina woman will solve your issues. All women have pretty much the same conditioning, marrying out of the western world wont change that. My dad is from New Zealand, he married my mum who is from Singapore and she definitely has him by his balls . There’s this misconception that Asian women are soft and subservient. Yes, to a certain extent we are more respectful/traditional but you will most likely still be battling the war of the sexes in the Philippines as you will in the Western world.
All of my dad’s friends who have married South East Asian women more or less have got their balls in a vice grip 
If you want to be the one in control I’m sorry but women are pretty much the same all over the world
From my perspective, it might help to see that this conditioning is something men and women both experience in different ways and alot of people actually do want to do better and change. Noticing that myself in terms of men has helped with getting rid of my resentment towards men
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Thanks for the extensive reply @Sonyaxx
You may be happy to read I met a Ukrainian woman who can actually talk!!
I think that a lot of the resentment (from both sides) comes down to mental laziness.
It’s just easier to exercise whatever power is available, and for me, that power waned with age. All that is left then is resentment.
Which is the age old trick that our instinctive core plays on us; one day all my lazy, ill-considered hopes and dreams will come true.
I learnt more in the last month about myself and an otherwise semi-aware woman than in the decade before.
I haven’t forgotten what I learnt, but I can see that a lot was a “buffer”, a coping mechanism.
I otherwise want to adore someone, but that has to have a mutual aspect to it. Even if the same-same games continue, there is a chance that with this unexpected foray into a relationship, I may actually be able to examine myself properly.
Before, it has always been very academic. I never had that basic mutual “instinctive” attraction. So I pretended that it didn’t matter, because, you know, “instinct is bad”.
It was amazing to hear her talk about instinct and logic. Zero prompting from me.
One day I may well become an actual actualist. Who knows? Butterfly effect is underated. 
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I am thoroughly enjoying what I am doing in life right now.
I am moving to the CBD, found a really interesting sexual partner, loving work (doing things I dreamt of for 21 years with tech).
I had a very interesting confrontation last night.
I was at a mate’s 50th birthday party, and walked up to the bar with my new girlfriend to buy a drink. Now, I was definitely focusing on her, so I missed that there was a line of people waiting to be served.
In Perth, that is really really unusual. Normally, you just find space on the bar and hope that you get service.
Anyway, while in the process of buy her a drink, a bearded guy leans in an says something like " hey champ, there is a line here".
Now, in my state of mind, being otherwise focused on what I was doing, I took it in and proceeded to complete the buying of her drink.
This guy was a lot bigger than me, and was visibly angry and aggressive.
However, in my normal fashion of seldom being afraid, I just told him I had no idea about the line. I tried to explain that I had never been in a line in a bar in Perth. It’s just not done. He and about 8 people behind him, were all muttering all sorts of abuse at me. “Cunt” was mixed in with all sorts of moral indignation.
He threatened me to “take it outside”, when I explained that I had never seen a ‘line’ in a bar in Perth.
Funnily, I just ignored them all in a way. I just smiled like the arrogant arsehole banker whom they presumed me to be. The silver-spoon who has just breezed through life ignoring all ‘lines’ and just taking whatever I want.
Hahaha. Such a funny thing to be.
In their minds there was a ‘line’. An unassailable Universal Law of Linedom. He was their bearded and buff king.
For what it’s worth, He was obviously a far superior physical threat than me. All the minions behind him though, I could have wiped the floor with; without spilling her newly bought drink.
Whilst they all called me all number of names, their furrowed brows, and desperate despair written in the hollow darkness of their increasingly purple checks; the spontaneously formed King and his Linedom of Sycophants united in holy rage, I leaned into his ear from over his shoulder and said;
“The next time you fuck up, I hope you are not treated the way you have treated me”.
Now, in full disclosure, the adrenaline kicked in an I was shaking for a few minutes.
Over night, I reflected on the whole situation whilst not actually sleeping on my girlfriend’s couch out of consideration for her. (We were “busy” until 2am, when I woke at 5am, I knew I had to get up because I don’t easily get back to sleep)
How many “make-believe lines” do I dutifully wait in?
What holds me back in other areas of simply walking straight up to the bar and ordering my drink?
Stop waiting.
Well you (unknowingly at first) violated the social norms, the spontaneous organization to ensure the smooth running of an overcrowded bar (first come; first serve). I wouldn’t suggest pursuing this line of behavior unless you want to become a social outcast. It’s neither sensible nor harmless is it?
Put it differently what if you had just waited 20 minutes for a beer and somebody now cuts in front of you, would you like that situation or would you wish they had been more considerate?
Oh, @claudiu , Yes, I understand that angle very well. I am normally very considerate of social norms. That is one thing that made this so unusual and later striking to me; the social norm is the opposite of what was happening in that bar!
It was a spontaneous, or maybe local norm particular to that bar which highlighted the contrast with other less obvious “waiting in line” behaviours in myself.
I was thinking about work, money, my general behaviour. In that when the actual “social norm” is to simply go ahead and get/do what is pleasant to myself, I am creating a type of “line” where it is nothing more than a “waiting” or perhaps more destructive, an “excuse” not to go ahead.
I could see myself in these people, of course. How many actual lines I have been in when someone breaks the rules. I witnessed a woman on Friday push ahead of the other 60 odd people at an apartment inspection. It was fascinating actually. She wasn’t literally harming us.
I agree with social order. Obviously. However, I got the idea that I have an internal “line” which holds me back from many good things which don’t have literal lines to wait in.
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I can absolutely see that truly and utterly enjoying and appreciating this moment , the eternal perpetual moment, is the end of being me. The gateway I couldn’t see.
The terror I feel isn’t about losing my partner to another man (or whatever phantom she could imagine), That is normal and otherwise well within my scope of things I can be me in. I get to be me in that scenario, what I don’t get if I can actually enjoy this moment is to also be me.
My terror is truely and utterly enjoying this moment.
It’s terrifying not because I feel terror, but because I am terror. I am scared out of my wits to be here. To especially be here now.
I am that which keeps such a perfectly sensible thing as to enjoy the only moment I am alive, out of reach.
Yet, I can report that I absolutely have confidence in the butterfly effect. That each action, thought, feeling, etc, is having an effect. Nothing is random, or up to chance.
After a decade of this, and having otherwise counted myself as not being an actualist and not trying at all in any of the ways I thought were actualist, I found a partner that challenges me at that level of terror; the terror of being alive for real.
It’s an experience of bouncing off this moment. I see it so plainly.
So, I am now without so much as a shameful repentance, an actualist, without being an actualist.