Troubled

 I've been struggling with a new thought lately.  Like most of my new thoughts, it's a matter of putting together enough of the pieces to make it make sense.

It has to do with my complete bewilderment that no one can  seem to comprehend how important unassisted loving coitus is and that there is no reason for its failure to continue to exist.

It has to do with the madness that so many men are displaying today in their hate, viciousness, and self-centeredness.  It has to do with the breaking of self-honestly for men as the years wear on past puberty.  It is how it tears a man down over a lifetime.

It has to do with my saying, "men take, women give, and it all starts in bed".  I'd like to add to that saying.  Like, "men take, women give, and it all starts in bed.  It has been going on for a billion years because animals never had the wit to realize what was going wrong.  It has dumbed down humanity to an extent that no one yet comprehends."

It has to do with the disappointment that every single human being must encounter post-puberty.  It's a human thing, though I'm starting to wonder if animals don't have some sense of what is missing.  

For some, it hits immediately, for others, it may take decades to sink in.  Believe this.  It is happening earlier and earlier as we progress into our sentient awareness of all that goes on around us.  

The celebration of life should not begin with a child being born.  That is far too late.  The celebration of life should begin in earnest with the couple learning to love each other.  It is cut off at the knees when coitus fails to become a loving act.

I am doing my best to avoid the mounting frustration.  It has almost done me in more than once.

Let's try this.  When men reach puberty, they have to find some way to cope with the situation.  For myself, it was the slowly dawning realization that something wasn't right.  As you should know by now, it took a lifetime to figure out what was really wrong.  

I adore women.  I adore sex.  But, the two didn't converge.  I started rationalizing my situation.  For more than forty years.  While I sought answers.  It was right there in front of me but so disguised by the rationalizations of humanity that it was almost impossible to arrive at the correct answer.

This is where a lot of people branch off into other sexual orientations.  That was the easy way out that made no sense at all for me.  I could not comprehend anything but loving a woman.  Not forcing her.  Not putting on some beastly mask of monstrous proportions to convince a woman that she should bed me, when I knew better.  No other way in which to satisfy a woman presented itself in an acceptable manner.  That may be hard to explain but let's just say I'm glad I never took an alternative route to satisfying a woman.  It would have made it impossible for me to go the length and figure out what is really wrong with humanity.  I would have settled.  Like everyone else.

Humanity has always settled.  Look where that has gotten us.  

Men can learn to master their bodies through thinking that an animal cannot attain.  Men can overcome the instincts of the animal that causes coitus to remain a failure at loving - not through willpower as they have always attempted - but by thinking it through.  It is not a matter of 'holding back the tide'.  That is the stupid (stupoured) animal's approach.  It is comprehending what is going on and changing the circumstances.  I have gone a long way in finally comprehending what it takes and it is easily done.  I have just scratched the surface and, still, it is easily done.  The muscles and bodily movements that cause the beginning of the end of coitus for the man and, thereby, for the woman all too soon, can be under a man's control.  He can master his body.

Why can no one seem to see how loving coitus can change us into a loving race of sentient beings?

It has to do with the great distraction.  Maybe I am overstepping here but, it seems to me, that every time the idea that there is more to loving than we have ever admitted begins to emerge, some large portion of the male gender goes out of their way to cause a distraction.

It has to do with three millennia of such distractions.

It has to do with men losing their self-respect as the after-effects puberty begins to haunt them.  There is nothing else in the world of humanity that could cause such a loss of self-respect amongst such a huge portion of the male gender.  

More exactly, every male loses some portion of their self-respect because of the failure to succeed at loving coitus.  We know better.  Somewhere deep inside each man there is an awareness that they should be able to do better.  How could it be otherwise?  Unless a man can succeed at loving coitus, his self-respect is chipped away over a lifetime.  Some of the signs are so subtle that humanity fools itself into believing that some men do not suffer from the failure.  The attack on self-respect cannot be avoided.  Our sentient awareness is aware that there is a lack in the act of coitus.  Our sentient awareness also knows that men should be able to do better.  All it took was for me realizing that we had never taken the idea seriously.  It's the great distraction, again.  Men are so convinced that they cannot do better that they will not even consider the proposition.  They can.

The ones that really make me wonder, though, are those that proceed with engaging a woman, even though they fail to satisfy her to the extent that they themselves enjoy.  I think I said it best in, "men take, women give, and it begins in bed."  

I don't mean to be offensive but, really? ha everyone bought into for the last three millennia that men are 'just that way'?  That the incomplete man is just that way?  That they are broken and there is nothing to be done.  That they must rage and act like idiots always trying to prove themselves to no avail?  Can no one see what they can't prove??!!?!?

It does not need to continue.  Do you see my problem?  How in the hell am I supposed to get to what it is that causes everyone to veer off unless I can discuss what causes them to veer off?

Let's try this.  Does everyone agree that humanity is a mess?  Can we agree that something is wrong?  

I'm afraid, beyond that, some people will believe that it is our sentient state, our awareness of what is going on, has broken us.  If so, that is an easy one.  It is only that we have not fulfilled our sentient state.  We have not relieved the stress of the situation by admitting what is obvious.  Coitus is not up to snuff - for a sentient race - and it so easily can be.

This is where I think a lot of people become confused.  But, how can I know for certain.  A question might be how could loving coitus change our existence from a bunch of backbiting, miserable creatures into a race that can look at itself in the mirror with respect?  Does it seem unbelievable?  I don't know how to convince you otherwise, though I have written fourteen books trying to do so.  If that is where the problem is, I think a dialogue would get to the bottom of it.

Is it something else?  If there is anyone that believes men cannot do better?  Well, that would frustrate me no end.  I have also done my best to explain and resolve the situation.  It is unlikely I will be able to prove it further in this lifetime, though I keep picking away at it.  

To prove that decisively, that any man can become an unassisted lover, would be the easy way to go.  With what I know now, it would be easy to do so, if I were in my teens or twenties.  I am not.  That is what calls me on to exit abruptly.  Since I have no idea why people balk, I got so desperate that I tried that exit.  I am pretty certain, I will do it, again, at some point.  Unless someone has the wit to engage at a level that seems unlikely.

What makes it even more bewildering to me is that so many men admit to themselves that they fail at making coitus a loving event, but somehow, seem to think that other men do better?  Or, is it that they realize all men are lousy at coitus but they are willing to opt out on loving a woman, even so.

Maybe the best answer is what I have said for a long while now.  The whole sex scene (including the awful offenses against the feminine gender which are far more extensive than anyone realizes (except some few women)) will remain confusing as long as coitus remains a failure.  It is all about the absence of loving coitus.  Loving coitus will clear up everything regarding sex in a generation.

What I don't get is that no one seems to be able to admit that, at the heart of all that is wrong with humanity, sex upsets the applecart of humanity's sentient existence.  From where does all of the friction come into human life?  It is frickn' obvious, once you wipe away all of the distractions that are used to obscure the picture.

Let me rephrase.  What I don't seem to be able to convey is that sex is at the heart of all of our problems to grow up and become a respectable sentient race that can love, full of passion and joy.

I guess it all comes back to a point that I have stressed lately.  We don't have rational conversations on the subject of sex.  Everybody takes a side and, then, they argue about inconsequentials.  As if they have all of the answers, when, what comes out of their mouths are just justifications for the option they have chosen in the absence of loving coitus.  They may still choose those options in the presence of unassisted loving coitus but the reasoning will, then, be clear.  Not muddled by the absence of making coitus a loving event (which can only happen unassisted).

As long as loving coitus is so rare that most don't even believe it can exist, humanity has failed to become human.  All of the bickering, all of the nonsense that we endure resolves right back to the absence of loving coitus as the expectation of the act that we call 'making love' remains no such thing.  It produces no love until the couple shares the transcendent experience equally.

It is truly shocking that we have convinced ourselves for three millennia that we can do no better than rut like animals.

Make no mistake about it, all of the turmoil we endure is initiated by men that have spent a lifetime trying to convince themselves that they are men.  While the complexity of three millennia may make it difficult to discern, it is all there.  Men have been covering up their failure for three millennia rather than addressing the failure as human beings.

It is three millennia of delusion and the inertia of a dumb animal that makes it so difficult to comprehend.

Here is the rock and the hard place that I have been seeking.

Sigh.

Conditioning

 I just thought of the perfect example of conditioning to make a subject become taboo. 

 The thought of coitus and sex, in general, has been taboo for so long.  Yes, we've begun to break through that taboo but we are still utterly confused by the subject.  Humanity has taken extreme positions due to the sensitivity of the subject and the blindspot that we still avoid at all costs.  

The conditioning by pedophiles to convince the children they abuse that they should not talk about their abuse is a direct descendant of the conditioning to avoid the subject of sex and coitus in particular.  The sense forced on those children that, if they utter a word on the subject, they will be persecuted, reviled.

Think about this, also.  We have just begun to unravel that mess.  For three millennia, we didn't open our mouths on the subject (I should probably research this claim further; I'm not really sure how far back in time we realized there were even pedophiles, though rape and the rest of the unwholesome approaches to sex seem to have been known for a long time; reviled while being done incessantly).  

Women have been especially trained to just keep it to themselves.  Yes, my rage raises its head, once again.  But, the rage is almost completely under my control, finally.  It is becoming more like a simmering outrage flavoured with a growing vast knowledge of the real situation.  I feel like I'm just trying to find the door that will open.

As I view humanity's current turmoil, I have to shake my head in wonder at the depth of delusions and depravity that some men can muster in efforts to remain oblivious of it all.

Can no one see the interconnectedness of all of this?  Am I just whistling Vivaldi?

Did I describe it well enough?  Will it help people break through the barriers to begin to sense the true, clear-eyed sentience?  

I just received a comment that I did not understand.  I guess that's progress.  There was a referral for some guy that was talking about covid and stuff.  I really didn't get it, other than a point about how ... nope, didn't get it.  It seemed way off subject.

whickwithy@gmail.com

Master

 Ouuuu!  Just thought of another aphorism that works.  It still probably needs some work but it isn't too bad.

Once men become masters of their bodies, it will end their delusional desire to be masters of women.

It is a twist on something I've been saying for a while, which is that men becoming masters of their own bodies is a much more rational goal than the claim of being masters of the universe, which is the very common but very infantile belief that the prehuman condition of men has created and emphasized over the millennia.  It is, of course, all a facade to cover their inferiority complex.

This aphorism is also much more to the point.  It is the source of the delusional desire to be master of women that causes all of the trouble.  It is the delusional desire to be master of women that explains what is really going on.  The absence of loving coitus explains why.  The phrase "men take, women give, and it all starts in bed" explains it as best as I have been able.  It is that delusional desire that causes the unequal and inequitable situation for women.  The source of this aberrational state of our sentience is the same as the source of all of the perversions and obsessions regarding sex, from pedophiles to the sex trade to S&M to the desire to dominate women and be their masters.

whickwithy@gmail.com

New book

 One of my biggest troubles will be sorting through all of this material that I am currently creating as posts and decide which would best fit in a new book that avoids all of the mindless triggers that keep us from pondering the demented occurrence that has plagued us throughout our existence and trigger, instead, an avalanche of understanding.

whickwithy@gmail.com

Retribution

At this point, this one is a mess.  I hope to clean it up before it posts.  It's far enough in the future, at this point, that I should be able to do so. 

I mention in the previous post that my rage is beginning to simmer rather than rampage.  There are a few reasons for that.

First and most importantly, it is the reduction in the lingering aspects of the bane on humanity on my mindset and the growing preponderance of knowledge on the subject matter.  

Sure, there is plenty, like this aspect of retribution, that can still be detailed but the overall picture is clear.  We are lacking love and there is only one reason for it.

I have never been about retribution though.  I grew up surrounded by the bizarre ideas of evil and making someone pay for transgression, it would have been easy to fall into the trap of letting it run rampant.

Retribution does nothing to further our humanity.  It feeds the rage and blinds us to the truth, the sentient reality.  The blame game plays a big part in our inability to see deeper.  We look for a scapegoat, just as The Garden Of Eden did (even though today's apologist for christianity are rewriting its intent - the topic of manipulation of reality, I believe I have covered well enough)

This is one of those very confusing issues that I addressed obliquely before.  It is probably littered through my previous books in the attempt to break through the nonsense that we have built around ourselves.  

The one that comes to mind immediately is the simplistic view I took on the ideas of "love all", "love is all you need" and, most telling, "turn the other cheek".  One phrase that I used in the past to counter these insipid notions was that no sentient being would allow someone to bash them over the head and smile while it is being done.

It was a simplistic reaction.  It was the best description I could develop at the time.  While it is true that we change little or nothing by letting someone bash us over the head while we smile, it is also true that there should be no need to do so (see Cheeks).  

You look around at the awful way we treat each other and wonder, "how can it possibly be different?"  That hopeless notion of just letting the awful do their awful things seems the only solution.  Even though the overwhelming reaction is retribution.  Neither moves us forward.  The extent to which I had to become dispassionate about life in order to comprehend all of this makes me physically ill at times.  I would much rather just have a life that makes sense, full of passion and joy.  That was not an option amidst the mad carnival that we have created.

There is only one way to rid ourselves of the impetus to awfulness.  That is what the millions of words I have written (I don't think that is an overstatement) have been all about.  It is about righting our ship in so many ways that it would be like attempting to address each grain of sand on a beach to describe the resolution to each individual mania that we endure (another reference to a new language, phrases, and context).  

That is really the point.  As long as we address each incident as independent of all of the other incidents of awfulness, we lose.  They are all interconnected.  

The awfulness cascades from the simple misunderstanding that there wasn't a damn thing to do about the act of coitus other than continue to rut like animals.  It has sent the ripples far and wide, interacting, twisting, and distorting the concept of sentience so thoroughly that the only answer is to identify the source of our problems:  believing that rutting coitus could ever satisfy a human being.

whichwithy@gmail.com

Author

 You know, really, I think it would be best if someone else were the author.  I'd rather wander all over the terrain.  I was just writing something (rewrite of Nothing Else Matters) and was just dying to wander off and speculate further, look at a particular point from a different perspective.  It's always important to triangulate and, yet, no one wants to read about it.  

Can you see how it would work?  Somebody very special could take all of my wandering about (without ever taking a note), winnow it down to something that matters, and publish it!

Well, I won't go any further.  It would have to be agreed upon, etc.  In the meantime, I'm off on the onerous task of writing a fifteenth book.  Maybe I'm just being lazy.

Nothing else matters

  It just doesn't matter what we do until we become human.  We will never solve any of our significant problems that continue to pile up until we can take a rational, emotionally stable view on life.  Emotions are all over the map.  They need not be that way.  We don't need to become robots, either.

Stable emotions, joy, and passion is a human, sentient perspective. Misery and a  cockeyed view of the universe is an animal's sentient view.  We remain in the latter state.  

We are not there yet.  We are not human, other than the potential that we contain.  We must perceive and fulfill a sentient reality, not continue to follow the witless animal's reality while knowing damn well it no longer suits our heightened senses.

"Perception is reality' is the perfect cover for so many heinous acts.  I know I covered that in the books and I believe I covered it in one of the extant posts.

To summarize.  A sentient reality cannot be manipulated as one pleases.  Only a mad animal would do so; a mad animal that has the brains to think but doesn't; has the heightened consciousness and awareness to know better but blocks it out.  It has all been shunted into oblivion.  How delusioned must a person be to think it can force its perceptions on reality.  Not disillusioned but delusioned.  What could cause such levels of delusions?  What failure could drive a man that mad?  For millennia?  

The manipulation of the masses that is seen on full display today is just such madness.  It causes a lot of pain and leads nowhere.  It displays our insanity and the self-destructive tendencies of the male gender all too well.

That's pretty strong but I can't see any other way.  We keep bickering over the same stupid stuff with no end in sight, other than becoming human.  It is all up to men to make it so.  I have hit another level of confidence that men can control their own bodies.  I have proved it to an even greater extent.  At my advanced age.  In this case, the advanced age is a good thing.  It just interconnects a few more pathways.  

Whenever the tide is turned and men quit fearing incompetence and realize they are masters - of themselves, we all win.  We will look back on it in a state of shock.  How could it have taken us three millennia for men to realize that they can love, when it is so easy.  Like many of the greatest things in life this is as simple as looking at a bur and seeing an attachment device called velcro or taking a can opener and turning it upside down.  It's all just amazingly simple, once we get the delusions out of the way.

whickwithy@gmail.com

Kind Of Man

 London Grammar has a new set of songs out.  Kind Of Man says a lot between the lines.  It made me take a hard look in the mirror.  I know I have had a blind spot when it comes to a particular woman.  This really set it down hard.

The woman that I adore also said it very well (real love, you know?), though, of course, she took on the guilt of the situation .  No guilt necessary.  

It is just another huge learning for humanity.  Like all else, though, we can't break through until we become human.  It seems like a good explanation is in order but, I don't know if I can pull it off in this life.  The song really says it well, if you listen closely.  It is a really profound insight for me.

Freedom and privacy

 I explain the ludicrous desire for freedom in a couple of the books.  We scream for freedom and never explain (or realize) what we want freedom from. 

The other real interesting one is privacy.  Why are we so touchy about privacy?  Whenever I think of this, I think of 10,000 Maniacs - What's The Matter Here.  I think it tells the story better than anything I could say.

whickwithy@gmail.com

Suicide

The following is something that has been mentioned in a few of the previous books.  It is another symptom (evidence) of humanity's deranged state.  It just takes on particular potency as I have brushed that threshold more than once now.

Isn't it amazing?  Humanity is so bad at life that more and more of its members are doing their best to leave the playing field.  Believe me, I sympathize.  

Humanity's solution to this problem?  Make it more difficult for them to die.  Make it so that all of the drugs that would ease death are illegal or only available by prescription.  Make suicide illegal.  Accuse those that can't cope with the insanity of being insane.  SMH  I'll tell you, humanity retains some sadism, masochism that it should have shed by now.

Even when laws approve suicide, it is only under the dire condition that you are as good as useless, extremely miserable, and in such utter pain that you might as well be dead.

No, no, no, if you are in good shape, but so utterly disgusted with the witless brutishness of the state of the male dominated race screwing up what should be a beautiful existence, you must stick around and endure.  That is the dumb animal's way of dealing with problems.

No one ever seems to ask the question, why do so many become so disgusted with human life, just as no one has ever asked the question what is wrong with humanity?  There is like this masochistic tendency that the human race has been intent on following.  That also shows up in myriad ways.

Maybe it is the hope stashed away in Pandora's Box.  We always hope that things will get better - in our own lives and the life of humanity.  Even though we are excellent at ignoring that hope when it comes a-knocking, when it is laid out in rather clear prose.

Suicide's implications are just another truth that we avoid with every breath.  The stupour is already in place, since we avoided confronting the original problem that seemed so hopeless.  So, we use it to hide any uncomfortable truth.  It is used to hide from any awkward, uncomfortable truth that taxes the brain, thus reinforcing the stupour.  It's easier that way.  For a dumb animal.

Or, maybe, it is the human race's version of what I have been trying to do.  Find a way to hold on, while also finding a way out of the mess of an existence that does not suit humanity.  If so, it doesn't work very well.   We just keeping leaping into the next fire.

One of the most horrifying experiences for me was visiting the Wattpad website some years ago.  I still go there to post things on a sentient perspective on occasion, but I don't explore very much any longer.  It is mostly a site for young people.  I have hopes that some young person will read what I have written and move the breakthrough forward, which is why I continue to post there on rare occasions.

I don't know how Wattpad is nowadays but, about a decade ago, the number of young women that were, I believe the term is, cutting themselves was shocking.  If you haven't noticed, the plight of women has been the most important factor in stoking my rage at the prehuman condition.  The cutting was not the only indication, either.  The misery was shared equally by both genders.  The miserable feelings of so many on that site and the crude attempts by others to explain their misery or make a buck through writing bizarre stories regarding sex were also disturbing.  Or, the ones that turn pure animal and begin to bite.   It really is only a matter of having the wit to know why.  That took some time.  Like a lifetime.  Of course, there were also the love stories that so many youths desperately desire, until the real story hits them in the face.  The real story that is no more than an animal's take on a human existence.

I don't think I will visit, again.

There are so many lesser examples of the unwillingness of humanity to accept its prehuman state.   It really is only a matter of having the wit to know why.  That took some time.  Like a lifetime.  I don't think I'll give any examples of this.  They are all around us.  They are easy to perceive, if you are not caught up in the prehuman insanity.  So, I'll let you figure them out for yourself, if you have the desire and the wit.  I'll give you a hint, though.  Think escapism in its many varied forms.  If a few of the endless examples don't pop to mind as you go through your daily experiences, the stupour still claims you.

Don't get me wrong.  I love this life.  It is just the awful stamp that our prehumanity has put on life that makes me ill.  The antics are endless and offensive.  It's like if monkeys could talk.  I don't like sharing a world with a race of madmen and dullards.  I have exposed myself enough to the nonsense in order to find out what is wrong and suggest how it must be repaired.  That is done.  All I can do now is try to craft it into a form that can penetrate any depth of stupour.

I thought I was a recluse before....

It's weird.  While I say that, if I had my druthers, I would move myself to a big city somewhere that the most awful effects of climate change weren't so significant.  There are few left.  

Individual humans are actually likable.  It is when they clan together in their caves that mindsets invariably go off the rails in one of countless directions.  They convince each other of the most preposterous, selfish, heinous views.  

It's like they are trying to impress each other.  Which they are.  They are attempting to prove their lives are significant.  They are not trying to prove that human life is significant.  Just theirs.  In the absence of the most transcendent act of human existence, we make do, instead.  We don't do so very well.

Delete, delete, delete

whickwithy@gmail.com

Whoa!

 I have recovered from the terrible ordeal that beset me.  

I know I will never be able to abandon trying to explain until the day I die or the day that I see that some have seen their way through.  I will just have to live with it.   It's like my near-death experience cleared a lot up in a hurry.  It doesn't make the burden any lighter but it does make it easier to carry.

Also, the pressure is off.  If I were to fall over dead today, I couldn't not feel bad about it.  I wouldn't stress over not having conveyed the most important information;  why, and how we can become human, fulfill our sentient destiny, in an extremely short span of time.

So, I can finally take my time.  A luxury I haven't felt for going on fifteen years.

I have had to create a place for myself in this existence in order to carry on.  It wasn't easy.  It is not satisfactory but it will have to do.  Kinda like the rest of my life.  As I said somewhere of late, "Pangloss, my ass.   I knew what I was getting into."  

It's not like I had much choice in the matter.  Not only will I no longer settle, I won't even bend.  

I can't say I put that much effort in cleaning up the following posts, though I have the advantage of putting all of them so far out in time that I have the luxury of looking them over from time to time before they post.  In other words, it's going to be on a case by case basis, depending on my interest in clarifying a particular subject.  This will be even more true, once it has posted.

It is a very weird state I have entered.  I'm going to stay alive against my best intentions and graceful efforts.  At least, until something breaks entirely. 

 I will continue to attempt to clarify.  I'm actually feeling better about it but, like so much of this effort, it is hard to describe.  It's like I have surmounted the hill and become able to begin to perceive our mess dispassionately and connectedly.  The rage that has driven me has subsided to some extent.  It will never go away until the male gender starts being full-fledged humans.  There is only one thing I can think of that would fire that rage beyond bounds, once again.

Well, there's a longer explanation of how I must move forward that I think is best described in Puzzles.  I need to change my context.  I still believe my chances for success would improve dramatically with a sympathetic ear, but that's not up to me.

It is like I have come out the other side of a vast complex maze, in which I would not leave until I understood every avenue, alley, mountaintop, and valley.  I'd poke my head out for a moment to publish a book and, then, right back into it.  That I have emerged from the maze does not mean I know how to communicate its complexity for any to comprehend.  That is my next task.

It sort of reminds me of pictures.  I have never been one to appreciate taking pictures (I appreciate photos from others).  My memory has alway been so good that I could revisit any remarkable place I have visited without them and pictures cannot compare to memories.  I'm not exactly sure how that relates to what I have been saying.  It just feels similar.

I think, sooner or later, I'm going to have to describe my quirkiness.  It is certain you have never met anyone quirkier.  From the way I like to eat my eggs, to the way I handle a lighter, to the way I wear a watch, the way I make coffee, tea is different.  It's not like I sought these things to be different.  What it comes down to is that it never occurred to me to mimic what others were doing.  In fact, it seemed a rather insane pastime.  If I run across a better way to do something, I adopt it.  It has been rarely the case.

That also relates in a way I cannot yet explain.

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This is an edit.  That weird state I have entered has rid me of all of the angst regarding the situation that drives humanity mad and caused me to spend a lifetime unraveling its cause.  The angst is gone because I have unraveled the madness of humanity to my own satisfaction.  Now, I just have to figure out how to lay it out for anyone to see.  This time, I won't rush the book.  At all.  I still despair of ever making it clear, which is very frustrating indeed.  A lot of that is due to the prehuman condition in which most learn to distrust themselves after hitting the wall of the prehuman stupour long enough after puberty that, for all intents and purposes, it is buried in a grave with no tombstone, no markers.

I cannot go out and seek an 'official' editor because finding one that I could bring up to speed and the time it would take to bring them up to speed seems beyond my bounds at this point in time. 

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I have put away the bitterness that had been building up, which is what makes this new state so difficult to define and understand.  I cannot stand the idea of becoming bitter.  I consider it the most useless state of existence.  Just identifying its growing hold was enough to put it away.  Interesting that.  Yeah, there's a rhoem that covers that perfectly.  I wonder if you can guess which one?

I have accepted that I have to plug away a while longer.  I know how good I am at staying healthy and it is difficult for me to let myself intentionally just wear down - physically or mentally.  It's that self-honesty, once again.  That doesn't mean it won't crop up when least expected to bring me down, of course.  When circumstances really justify it ...

Something could crop up, like lunatics running America, that will force me to take drastic measures (that run against my dictates of elegance and grace, and state; or require a change of venue - regarding which I have been procrastinating forever) but, other than that or a personal financial, physical, or mental implosion of some sort, I'm going to be around for awhile in the weirdest state of existence that can be imagined. 

If I try to picture it, it is as if I were standing on the border of our sentient state without being let through. (actually there is a very good rhoem that describes this state almost perfectly.  In the rhoetically imagined version, though, the border does finally let me through)   I guess I have to equate being 'let through' to conveying what I know in my heart and written millions of words regarding in such a way that it can become accepted with ease.  Maybe not even with ease.  Just accepted.

There's another way to look at it.  I have always believed in magic of a sort.  Not the facile fantasy version with a puff of smoke!  No, it has always been the sense of magic regarding life itself.  Maybe this is what I have been seeking all along.  This sense of the magic of life has become honed to a fine point.  It is what is keeping my head above water.  I finally, in my recent bitter past, abandoned all thoughts of magic other than "there is no magic".  That almost ended this grand adventure.

It was just another field of muck from which I inadvertently ( annoyingly and amusingly, in retrospect) pulled myself.  There is magic.  It is called life.  In its best form yet, it is sentience and a sentient perspective.  Animals were fine and dandy until they grew too much brains and looked into the eyes of their lover.  Then, the animal needed to step up and become human.  It has yet to do so.  

We will find a new order of magic along the sentient vector of the Trajectory Of Life.  Maybe it is the Trajectory Of Life itself that I sense as magic.  Only a fully formed sentient being will be able to explore that ball of thread with any determination and discrimination.  A fully formed sentient being from birth.  It is beyond my bailiwick.  

Serendipity is another matter that I must leave as indeterminate.  In this case, I'm not even sure a fully formed sentient being can do better.  Let's see if I can come up with a better description of what I term Serendipity than I have been able to suggest in the past.  Something a sentient being might understand, if no one else.  Mostly, for future reference, in other words.  

Maybe my best definition of a serendipitous approach to life is to let the winds of life lead you.  Whenever you force yourself against those winds, you are doing life and yourself a disservice.  Sounds crazy, I'm sure.  As I think, once again, about many of the monstrous winds that women face every day of their lives, maybe this definition doesn't work so well.  Or, maybe it is, as I have begun to think, that men, rather than acting as if they are taking the lead in human affairs while just throwing chairs around the room, actually need to start taking the lead for real in the most important way possible, since they are in the Serendipitously determined position of having to do so and they are the only ones in such a position.   Or, maybe it could never work well as long as a race clings to its animal nature against all sense (do you see? men are the reason that we cling to the stupour so).  Serendipity seems to work best, though, for a sentient existence within a sentient reality following the sentient vector's trajectory.  It is certainly not an animal's concern.  In the no-man's land between animal and human, it is a disaster.  Ask just about any woman.

Sorry for a few of the last paragraphs, but I feel they are important cogs, so I am leaving them.  They sound a bit too mystic for my tastes, though.

It's just that I am beginning to use this site as a sounding board from which to pick and choose that which works while, simultaneously, describing it in depth to an audience that might just get it.

whickwithy@gmail.com

It's weird

 I was just realizing that I like writing posts better than books.  One of the books, "This And That", is very much like the posts.  It's just a bunch of snippets that feel like a conversation rather than a monologue.  It's almost like I'm talking to you.  As long as I don't go exploring for paragraph after paragraph.

Sometimes that feels like I'm just digging a hole.

" The leaf"

 The leaf√

A single leaf upon the water flowing down the stream

Ripples in the water push the leaf along a scheme

A stick may drag, a rock may swirl, the leaf's path undefined

But, still the leaf goes on its way accepting course assigned

To tumble down the falls of chance to rumble in the tide

The swirling, frothing, mists enshroud, a moment to abide

But, out it goes, still moving on, relentless is the ride

Upon the times that fortune grants, and grace the tree supplied

Very Serendipitous

"Moon Shadows"

Moon Shadows

The silence smothers all of mankind's sound

The moon's bright shadows sharply cast aground

Just a whisper coming from the trees

A rustle in the shadow that agrees

Enchantment rules the sliver of the moon

The whispers and the rustlings do commune

Does light or shadow tell the mythic tale

Of lunar wizardry in light so pale

The larkings in the shadows now resume

The shadows are the bride, the light the groom

Reflecting into shadows of the knight

Suddenly from shadows comes the light

"Picturesque"

 Picturesque

There have been times within my life that seemed so picturesque

That left my mind the imprint of a complex arabesque

A feel, a smell, or pattern left across the fields of mind

All senses well arrayed to swell the heart and later find

A vision, blinding, in its gift to take the breath away

Triggered by a sight or scent or song I seldom play

A song in heart that sings a sigh that only my heart hears

A surge of soul that slumbered deep across the spanning years

Perchance to wake at slightest hint of something in the past

And thunder through the senses fully wrought and fully massed

Like breath upon a window pane, the intervening years

The sun burns through the foggy view and silent, windswept tears

And brings it all back home again, head bowed, I softly kneel

It brings the will to heightened state of majesty and steel

Eternal sighs, again, might be a phrase that I could use

But, breathless, from the memory, is word that I would choose

Beauty binds a way of life that captures as it sends

It happens just so often now, I wonder what portends

A hint of things to come?  Of pure beauty's final race?

I staggerdrop and wonderfall at thought I might embrace

All of life, complete the dream, then, gone without a trace

"The Rainbow Knight"

  The Rainbow Knight

The Rainbow Knight, along the river, walked in prism dreams

The sun was shining on the ripples in chromatic streams

And, now, he pondered light and hue

Once more, the spectral sight in view

Of passion's willing ways

His stride was broken by a thought of life in toneless tale

At the thought, a pain was wrought, that heart and will would fail

The wind picked up and tossed the whim

The river washed it past the rim

To shores of pallid days

He felt, within his glowing heart, the end of burden's blight

The mystic gleam cast, from afar, kaleidoscopic light

And, with the rippled light between

A brilliance settled with a sheen

To set the world ablaze

" The Travelers"

 The Travelers

Once the day was folded up and, then, been put away

The travelers toasted final cup ‘fore ambling on their way

The weary Dream donned raincoat pale, the darkened road to face

Staid Principles' so well-worn cloak was slowly shrugged in place

They trudged along together then, at quite a lonely pace

Both broken rhyme and deepest ruts were oft the dismal case

Along the darkened road there stood gloom’s shadows here and there

The massive mound of rocks looked vaguely like a well-worn care

A tree of disappointment seemed like end of all that's known

They slowly moved together as they heard a ticking moan

But, what was that they saw ahead, a traveler on the road

They brightened just a little, then, for good he seemed to bode

Ah, bright Heart, in tattered tails, you comfort all you see

The aching back of Principles from bitter drudgery

And saddened eyes of tired Dreams that sheltered from the art

Did lose their pain, forevermore, in presence of great Heart

w

" Small breakthroughs"

  Small breakthroughs

It's funny how the smallest things in life reflect the large

And, how the microcosm shows the infinite in charge

A slight nuance, a subtle thing, is noticed as a change

It tumbles through the heart and soul, all life to rearrange

Inertia, foolish habits, come steamrolling through the day

But, just a nudge, the slightest push, consumes your every way

To move a mountain's easier than move the drone of life

To break apart mundaneness, live each moment well and rife

No foolishness, no coy belongs, no lack of will or sight

To move momentous mountain, you must push away the fright

Time sequencing

 One difficulty that I am encountering a bit is time sequencing.  After having scheduled posts out for the next seventy years, I've lost track of which concepts have already posted and where they are over that span of time.There is a very good chance I will refer to something you have yet to see.    Sorry about that.  I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble following the flow.  

There is something very intriguing about that state of affairs.

A quote.

After a respectable period... 

Samuel Beckett said, "I can't go on.  I go on."  That about sums it up.  Sigh.  Well, I'm feeling better about it, anyways.

Another book.  Damn!

Waiting for Godot is rather insightful.  I have no idea where I saw it.  I just know I did.  Of course, the play is all mixed up but that should be expected.

Getting to the point

I have been battling the forces that have been arrayed for three millennia to blind us to our humanity.  I feel sometimes like a single swimmer trying to redirect an aircraft carrier away from its set course of collision with a reality it cannot seem to see.

In trying to comprehend what we are missing, I got caught up in all of the minutiae left by the animal that has set the course.  I am past that now.  It was dizzying indeed.

I am now, finally, attempting to write a book that looks forward while looking dispassionately at what has gone before.  It is difficult to do. 

Ridding oneself of the remnants of the animal is difficult indeed.  Attempting to peer into the mindset of an animal that one never really understood is more difficult still.

I keep coming back to the fact that one person's perspective, without any consensus from another that is sympathetic, is difficult to articulate.  I don't know how to better explain it.  I'm just that new and tentative at being human.  I have a lot to learn, just as you do.  

I have struggled to convey so many of my insights to no avail.  They come out in one set of words while I am still exploring the insight and it is difficult to reword it.    There is no feedback mechanism.  Like a blind man looking in a mirror.  That is the reason for all of the books.  It is my way of improving articulation for purposes of elucidation.  As I put all of the pieces down on paper, it became easier to arrange them in the order of significance and interconnectedness.  It all fits.

The people with whom I have tried to discuss it are so mangled by their own misconceptions that all they ever do is throw me off track.  It would be so nice to discuss it with someone that senses, to some extent, what I am saying.

This is just not like a normal conversation on any other subject.  It is not like any book you have ever read.  This is stone cold serious.  It is not a horror story, it is not a comedy, a drama, it is not meant to be speculative.  It is a matter of turning the fiction of our lives into a sentient reality.  It takes a level of thinking that any human can perform with no trouble at all.

Cheeks

 A lot just fell in place and, of course, I have difficulty not sharing it.  In this particular case, there may very well be some after-post edits.

Since its inception, the human race has only sought survival.  It has never sought success.  What finally forced me to realize this is the very familiar phrase, 'turn the other cheek'.

That is a survival technique.  While it may sound just the opposite, since many have certainly died taking that attitude, it is a technique for survival of an individual's humanity amidst the ravages of the animal.  It is the very human desire to salvage one's self-respect against all odds.

It is not a technique for success of humanity or the individual, just survival.  Turning the other cheek is surrender.  It makes the assumption, or does nothing to change the assumption, that there are animals still parading around in human clothing and accepts it as an unchangeable fact.

This came to mind as I was pondering a statement I made some time ago.  I was referencing the phrases, 'love all', 'all you need is love', and 'turn the other cheek'.  Being in my usually cranky mood that developed after publishing around six books (at the time), which seem to have left all readers dumb-founded (I guess they still are), I continued on to say that no human would sit around smiling and studying their navel while someone bashed them over their head.  First of all, once the race becomes human, there should be no need to expect such to happen except as a rare aberration.  Secondly, once a human can maintain their self-respect, they will not desire to cower in a corner.  Once self-respect becomes a certainty, there is no need to cower in a corner for fear of losing one's humanity.  The certainty of self-respect leads to a certainty regarding human life, distinguishing it, beyond all doubt, from the animal.

It is that certainty in one's humanity that will make it possible.  Essentially, humans, rather than animals (prehumans), will begin roaming and ruling the world.  In other words, when humans learn to succeed at being human, no one will be required or desire to turn the other cheek in order to salvage their humanity.

    The whole thought fest came about due to consideration of past, present, and future.  The past, in which humanity has cringed its way through life.  Present, in which we begin to learn what it really takes to be human and sentient.  And a future that might include the unlikely event of encountering a violent alien intelligence.  There is an (astronomically unlikely) outside chance that an alien race may survive as a witless race that has not learned the finer points of sentient existence and goes out in their madness in the misdirected attempt to be 'masters of the universe'.  My own estimation is that a race that cannot fulfill its sentience will do away with itself long before it reaches the stars.  A race that has learned to trust itself could make mincemeat out of them.

Those phrases I mention regarding love and cheeks are of western origin, but the problem pervades the human race.  The eastern version of the phrase 'turn the other cheek' is the concept 'save face'.  It also is a survival technique amongst animals.  It does nothing to engender success at being human.

Both phrases just hide from the actual problem.   It is understandable, since both phrases date back to times when the human race was little more than an animal with too much brains and no sense and men learned to rule rather than think.  Sadly, that is still our state. Now, those phrases reveal the real problem.

While they allow one to keep one's soul in opposition to the animal, they give no answers as to why some other idiot feels the need to bash someone over the head.  It is a question we have left unanswered in the broadest sense.  Instead, we analyze the minutiae.  "He said, she said"   It's kinda stupid.  Sorry, stupoured.  (if you haven't read much of my work, you won't follow that.  it's an inside joke of sorts).

What I have been trying to do is learn what it takes for humanity to succeed at being human.  Then, pass it on.

I hope this is enough for anyone that has been reading my works but, of course, I will need to expand it.  So, yeah, lots of additions, if not edits, ahead.

Since I had a few days to work on this, as I had no desire to interrupt, or distract from, the ancient lyres, it might be in reasonable shape.  It is getting better.

" Final edit"

 Final edit

When the wind is past the trees

Upon the fields, it falls and flees

Free reign, at last, on past the wit

Upon its way with form and fit

The splendid days will come, at last

So wild and happy, firm and fast

To swing beyond the world's delight

Removing all that's false and trite

And, now, at last, the final edit

And, yet, I laugh, for who has read it

Future dreams.  Not for me.  Not for this life, it seems.