Wysean

the 90's in new york, who doesn't remember prep school gansters

"Hugging the sea as the gods mock thee"

By pretending to be a person's perfect person in love, this is not done with mal-intent but a self need for love, you say the things they desperately want to hear, because you are smart and empty and filled with fear, so you fill yourself up with their need like a beer, you create an illusion of yourself that does not exist, so the person will fall and never desist, you don't exactly know who you are, the aggression from that you take out at the bar, it is not your fault except you lacked the courage to seek it out, because nobody ever paid attention and told you to take that route, because love only is taking the time to tell you who you are, because who you are is only of an advantage to you, and love is the opposite of a coup, others were interested in who you were to who? them, and the worst of this all plays itself out with men.

To the person who falls for the person who doesn't exist, perhaps be patient and the person will make themselves into the ideal person who you see, by accepting their ugliness and its beauty and loving itself narcissistically, and conquering the nemesis of insecurity, like butterflies do. But is the person you see for them or for thee? If it be for them, but rarely this be, for loving an ideal is like hugging the sea. However, the power of love gives us some immortal strength, for it's essence is a taste from the immortal place (thanks Plato), and we get touched and touch the one or many we love, from within our immortal kernel that is pure love, and exists under layers of skin and defense shield from hurt and fear from the real that can eat you dead, piercing your mortal with its apathy spear, love stimulates this core and brings it cheer, like an alcoholic who finally receives a spirit-filled beer, so it is up to you to believe people can change, also up to you to change dear caterpillar loved, your wings and their glory depend not from above, your will to conquer your weakness is all you have, for being human and that is all we have, so run and let the gods shoot mock-arrows as you try to escape for home, for a butterfly exists for it's own pleasure on it's own, it's beauty serves no function for another, but provides it to be if you so choose to accept it so, self-loved nasty insect that grow wings of love, flap around laughing at resistance and doves, doves peer back and are amazed and become insecure, for they can never understand this type of cure, a narcissistic beauty that is the envy of the gods, who never have to want or need therefore cannot achieve, they have done nothing to be as they are always in love, nothing to be scared of, no odds to beat and no strength to find, for they never get the feeling of being alive, we who are mortal can know courage they don't, for courage they never lack. Perhaps the one moment past fear we seek is a place where gods exist and crown us be wanderer who enter its place, for in our weakness we find great strength, from our will, "timshel", that make us greater than gods! From great weakness can come the greatest of all strength, for being human is the weakest they make, as the gods sit back enjoy, watch and wait. "thou mayest" "Timshel" don't take the bait.

For the person that fell for someone unreal, learn your lesson that you are weak to the ideal, why this is can only be one reason and cause and it is the same for the person who you fell for to complete the mirage, you were never given proper love from a parent and thus seek it in another, who cannot give it for they are not your real mother. The illusion is created thus and the need can never be filled, so dear caterpillar accept your weakness and what you never had, and cease from trying to turn who you make love to into a dad. The feeling of love imitates the gods who live forever and end never nor begin, the gods mocks us with their lack of need of sin, love is the feeling of trying to achieve them, when man and woman come together and make another, they attempt to be remembered always forever, to mock the gods back, who mock with a lack of fear and need, but always remember, they know not of ACHIEVE.

steal a little victory

The only way to truly know if a love was real is if you miss the person as if they were dead after the relationship is over; just as the peak of a civilization is only visible from the decline that follows. All things that the person gave you are now gone and you must fill them yourself. You must love yourself as they loved you, you must call yourself to action to complete the tasks and be the person that person inspired you to become.

Ultimate wisdom is being able to attain a retrospective wisdom about the present at the present, I think many refer to this type of knowledge as "the zone". Love feels like this. You feel things like they already happened. You feel what you feel because love forces you to grow, that is it's purpose and growth always hurts and the experience of time simply does not exist when you are suffering pain. "For someone to love you, you have to be the single biggest influence in their life," a paranoid schizophrenic told me. Also, a partly-paraylized, alcoholic told me that, "you can not be greedy with love, when your time with someone you love is up, it is up, let it go." My father told me, "nothing lasts for ever, NOTHING!" These are all true. Lost love feels like the person you loved is dead. In fact, it prepares you for that, it provides a foundational experience for when someone you love really does die-- if they have not already-- making it a little easier to handle. I am sure that those who have experienced the death of a parent they loved before they had their heart broken dealt with the heartbreak worse than those that have not had this experience.

Love exists and it is the highest form of attraction. Two people get a glimpse of their best selves in each others eyes. The past only feels important because it was a road traveled to this person. One wonders how they existed happy prior to this person's arrival. One forgives oneself all failures and mistakes from the past, there are no more regrets truly for they all played an integral part of becoming the roadmap leading you to this person. Love illuminates flaws, humbles you and teaches you the illusion time can be on the inside; how great things can be even in the face of finite, terminable and precarious life. It illuminates the fact that reality is resistance, love and reality begin to battle, circumstance jabs at love and love jabs back and most of the time love loses prematurely. No big surprise, we are all guests to reality-our host. Love is an alien energy that flows in from the someplace that holds all this up. And like I said, love is always lost in reality, that is what makes it so precious during the moments it's current. Love is a part of that infinite energy that animates the animal machine we live in and it peeks in once in a while to amuse itself and check in on it's creation, us, like a high school basketball coach might at a former student-player's college home game.

Love hurts because you lose it, you always will. Death is the final line of defense if need be to end it. How do you know you are in love? If reality feels like the enemy, if time feels like it is oppressing you, if you become a little more like what you should be and less like what you are. Ultimately, take what you can get, who the fuck are you to get what you want, life aint about that. If we could get what we wanted, we would all get the perfect chick or dude, eat cheese steaks with no fat on it perfectly cooked and never get fat, we would never have to scratch or adjust our balls or lose or get scared or be hungry because we would always eat and never get full. There is no glory in that. Being here provides you the opportunity for glory, for triumph of the soul over the fear that reality and mortality impose on you, "be careful, you could get hurt". Fly in the face of reality for an ideal that drives us from the platonic realm where ideas and perfection come from. We can never touch it or be it but we can chase it and laugh a little when we are inevitably defeated by the mother jail that is reality and it's pup circumstance. Just giggle a little at our own inevitable defeat to steal a little victory and let it be known that you were a fighter for the human soul, the human soul, as Steinbeck put it, "that thing that is always attacked and never defeated.