Theme: SUSPICIOUS MINDS
13.04.2021
I have a feeling.
The feeling that The Divine, or whatever we call that energy which gives life and purpose and being to everything at once and eternally, lies in the ‘middle’.
It resides in the ‘inbetween’.
It’s an Inbetweener.
Religions believe that it lies in the ‘good’ alone.
In a good they established anyway.
But this is a fallacy.
Religious ideologies established that what is called God is good.
(Just lost an o)
And what we call the opposite or non-existence of god_good, logically, must be evil.
And is called the devil.
(Just gained a d)
(why did God loose something and the Devil gained? Is that a bit like the x-chromosome loosing a leg to become a y-chromosome? discuss)
Sin.
Which is a popular word in churches all around the world.
And funnily enough it only applies to humans.
Animals and plants don’t sin as far as our perception goes.
Animals and plants don’t sin even when they have rampant sex.
That’s called nature and is completely sanctioned by religion.
Curious.
Only in humanity, sex is a ‘bad’ thing because we are supposed to be of higher purpose than plants and animals.
Four legs sex good, two legs sex bad.
Completely leaving out that sex is necessary to run the human race.
Without sex, no humans.
Haven’t you heard?
But then it still says in the bible:
“Go forth and multiply”.
So how is that supposed to work exactly?
Entering, without entering the sin arena?
Enter Immaculate Conception.
Oh, you tried that one? Unsuccessfully?
And you are already 22?
Good on you for staying a Virgin for so long but you are getting old now.
Oh alright then, have sex but please don’t feel pleasure.
But guilt.
Then you’re good.
Ha!
I once dated this beautiful man.
My close friends know him as the pussy cat.
He was all I dreamt of in a man.
Tell.
Regal but humble.
A beautiful skin shade between light and dark.
Beautiful teeth and smile and lips.
Strong but elegant hands.
Just the right amount of muscles.
Intelligent.
Kind and generous.
But determined.
Trustworthy yet playful.
And funny.
He had strong values and principles.
And he moved like a cat.
I could watch him jogging for hours.
There was a tense relaxedness about him.
A lot of his features were en pointe.
In a sweet spot.
For me.
I was really fond of him.
However, sex was an absolute disaster.
It was like having sex with my teenage son.
Awful.
It felt like he didn’t know what to do.
And it felt completely wrong.
It didn’t help that his dick was on the smallish side but even if it had been bigger, it would’ve been wasted.
Not being able to have satisfying sex with him was absolute torture for me considering how I adored his physique.
Having ‘sex’ with him felt as if he was constantly going over basic steps in his head, twisted version of The Joy of Sex, written by someone who had no idea what sex was about. The teachings of a misinformed mind stipulating to serve oneself and that the woman was somewhat a vehicle for child bearing.
But since we used condoms, I was in a strange way obsolete.
At the beginning, once, he went down on me which was amazing, and I guess I held onto that in the desperate hope it will happen again.
But it never was.
I hoped for months.
And then he broke up with me.
Which was my salvation.
Because I probably would’ve stayed longer.
With the Muslim pussycat.
And since I wasn’t, Muslim, he decided I either need to become one or we cannot be two-gether.
Anymore.
Fair enough.
Because no way I would.
And then it hit me: Sex was so incredibly awkward because he felt intense guilt throughout the whole process.
Fucking a non-believer.
And each time after he came he would jump up and go for a shower.
Which wasn’t necessary because there hardly was any real action to speak of in order to work up a black sweat.
However, he would be in the shower for at least 10–15 minutes.
Is that the time it takes to wash away the sin he had committed?
Sex with a non-Muslim?
The water would run for ages.
Is that the equivalent to 100 Ave Maria’s?
About right.
When you’re fast.
As I said, being dumped was a good thing.
Maybe even godly.
Certainly divinely inspired.
To my advantage.
He was torn.
Torn between his religious beliefs and his desire.
He had left Sudan at the age of 18, lived in London and eventually settled in Amsterdam and married a Dutch girl.
I wonder how that went down back home.
Hypocrisy.
They even had two children.
The daughter he rejected at the age of 16 because she disgraced the family by means of a teenage pregnancy and his son was ‘lose’ too.
He complained about them a lot.
But since he was torn, his children were probably even more so.
By his hypocrisy which he tried to cover up by criticising his children and their freedom of having been brought up in Amsterdam, one of the most liberal places in world.
He had completely cut his daughter from his life and frequently kicked out his son but also empowered him in his lifestyle by letting him return to live in the flat.
I always tried to reconcile the pussycat with his daughter, even if just for the sake of his little grandson who doesn’t know him at all.
But he was adamant.
Unusually hard.
Unnecessarily so.
Since he was making concessions for his son all the time.
I thought it unfair favouritism.
We stayed ok friendly though after the breakup.
No hard feelings.
His life.
And when he announced that it was time to get himself a Muslim wife, I only felt sorry for the girl.
For probably never having the experience of wonderful passionate and loving and exciting sex.
Either never or never again.
Apparently she was an established doctor.
Living in Cairo.
So how is that gonna work?
How is she gonna keep pursuing her career after moving to The Netherlands?
It doesn’t make sense.
Will she be reduced to a child bearing factory in a cold and rainy country?
I wish her_them luck.
She seems like a nice intelligent woman.
Last time I heard they had a miscarriage.
Sad.
But I got carried away.
Where was I?
The inbetween.
The sweet spot we need to be in.
The perfect balance between what we call ‘good’ and ‘bad’.
The perfect inbetween between left and right is straight, right?
It’s the equilibrium.
The idea that we should always be ‘good’ is wrong in the same way that it would be wrong to always only go right, right?
We would get nowhere but run in circles.
It is built on the false premise that there is ‘good’ and the absence of ‘good’ is called bad or evil.
To be avoided at all cost.
However, the absence of ‘good’ is only the absence of good.
Creating a tension.
There and not there.
There and void of there.
Both equally valid.
Without judgement.
We like ‘good’.
It feels good.
That is universally established.
Therefore, we figure that its absence would not feel good.
Hence we don’t like it.
Try to avoid it at all cost.
But when do we actually know there is a ‘good’_void? Am moment void of ‘good’?
Who can actually describe that feeling without using the word ‘bad’ and all the descriptions and associations we have with this word?
It cannot be done.
Hence we invented religion to tell us what it means to be ‘bad’.
And make that a law.
In order to have everyone adhere.
Homogeneous.
And that’s what it is.
A human concept.
Pretending to be Divine.
But the Divine created everything.
And equally adores all of its creation.
Man.
Animal.
Plant.
Planets.
All equally good (whatever that means).
So bad actually doesn’t exist.
It is man made.
A pathetic attempt to give meaning to the idea that WHAT IF God doesn’t exist, sometimes?
What to do in a time of God_void?
But the Divine should be there all the time since we are manifesting it consistently and constantly.
In us.
And what if the God_void is solely based on the WHAT IF?
Meaning that basically we never actually left paradise but are just imagining what it would be like if we had?
And fearing and worrying about that?
Being suspicious of perfection.
What if what we call reality is simply an idea or projection of the human imagination?
A dream?
A lucid dream called reality?
Wouldn’t that be fucked up?
Yes.
But also the perfect explanation for all the fucked-up-ness we are experiencing on a daily basis which is called life.
Explaining all that stuff that doesn’t make any sense.
All the lose ends.
Events which cannot be explained logically.
Human behaviour which is torn and incongruent.
Hypocrisy.
Everything we experience other than the ‘good feeling’ being completely fabricated by our imagination out of fear of the WHAT IF?
That would be interesting.
Because it means that fear is completely man made.
And therefore doesn’t have to be indulged or entertained.
So fuck off.
As I was musing in my diary entry yesterday, worry is a byproduct of fear.
And completely useless.
There are only two parameters within worry exists.
- Worry about things in the past.
Things we cannot change.
And we worry about repercussions.
- Worry about things in the future.
Things which haven’t happened yet.
And we worry about those.
They are ideas, belief systems and projections.
Nothing else.
And we pull them into our current experience, the now, in order to worry.
But why?
We feel compelled to play out possible scenarios in our imagination based on limited information we gathered in our little human brains.
And the worst is that these scenarios are always worst case.
Why that too?
Because only then we can worry.
Be afraid.
Only within those frames fear exists.
But what if we instead only project the best case scenario?
Which we absolutely can.
It takes the same amount of brain power and energy.
And it’s actually pleasant to do.
Worry and fear, however, creates disease and ultimately death.
Which is scientifically proven.
So, why do we find it so much harder to conjure the best case scenario?
Are we so addicted to fear and worry?
Seems like it.
So face your addiction.
Identify that you have a problem.
And start projecting only pleasant best case scenarios, if dreaming you must.
Why dream of monsters chasing you if you can change the dream at will?
You can also always wake up.
In paradise.
Ready or not?
Doesn’t matter.
You want to be in between.
In the know that you are dreaming and that the dream is your creation as well as dreaming for the full experience.
Dreaming. But not.
It’s a trick.
Oh, look over there, Elvis!
You want to be in the moment you turn around because you believe it could be true.
Win win sweet spot.
How does it feel?
Explore the inbetween spot.
Try to eat but not eat.
Sleep but not sleep.
Touch but not touch.
See but not see.
Hear but not hear.
Talk and not talk.
Listen and not listen.
Taste but not taste.
How to do that?
The key is to consciously do it but not give it any meaning in your head.
Do it as if you have no concept of what it is you are doing.
No frame.
No interpretation.
No valuation.
No explanation.
No judgement.
Do something, completely knowing that if you didn’t do it, it would make no difference, have no consequences whatsoever.
Take it or leave it.
Take it and leave it simultaneously.
Elvis or no Elvis.
Then you dwell in the balance.
We are only ever unbalanced when we tip the balance into one direction.
Left or right.
This imbalance doesn’t feel ‘good’ and then we start worrying.
And fixing.
Frantically.
And the fear sets in.
We are confused.
Left or right?
Left or right?
Completely unnecessary.
We simply need to position ourselves into the balanced state of mind.
The state of not being bothered either way.
Of basically not giving a fuck.
(Being asleep is a bit like that, right)
Elvis or no Elvis. Doesn’t matter.
But within that, having preferences.
Elvis would be fucking awesome.
That’s where the magic lies.
Not giving a fuck (about possible outcomes and the fear thereof) but giving a fuck (creating an epic dream).
This is creation.
And the only thing to do in paradise.
For kicks.
Suspicious minds.
