TROUBLE:

I understand US now, as well.

We are both Healers. We are drawn towards Troubled People. It is a Divine Attraction. We attracted one an other, by Divine Intent, so as to Heal One An Other.

Only: I do not WANT this to STOP.

And no: I’ve not been playing the Hanged Man just to try to emotionally blackmail you.

It’s something else:

We both are Troubled. Let’s not try to hide it. Helping Trouble People leaves a very recognizable Mark.

We both bear that Mark. I trust the Respect is Mutual here.

We both have a lot of Trauma and Coping Mechanisms. Our habits for dealing with Intensity are largely formed by past experiences, for better or for worse. Our reactions are volatile but totally rational to our SELVES. But not to Ourselves, collectively. So conflict seems Absolute and Irreconcilable. We are tempted to cut our losses and to go our separate ways, doubting whether Healing or Pain truly happened here; was it a Therapeutic Success, or a Pitfall?

It was neither. This Intensity is more than that.

The coincidences that hold us together are too great to dismiss with Melancholy Resolve.

I still believe that it can work out. And I’m o.k. with you doubting that with Total Conviction.

Even in your absence I am learning more about myself than I have known in Years. And Nicole: it is still BECAUSE of you. Your Absence says more than your Presence. [But*] It does not render you Dispensable. And I should know better than to regard myself that way.

*Not that this is really all that Ironical.

This is still a Good Thing.

Dm.A.A.

HOW I WAS HOSPITALIZED:

I never told you how I was hospitalized. My ex was an E.S.F.P, I am certain. Her demeanour* was endearing to everyone she met; I don’t know if a single person suspected her Good Nature, even those girls which she berated and would call sluts, out of jealousy alone. (And hardly – if I must be defensive in writing this, for fear of accusations of hypocrisy – out of any sort of deliberate malevolence or betrayal the likes of which could lead to a tragic Death.) This was the girl that Kresten, an E.N.F.P, had a longstanding crush on, though he hid the fact deliberately out of cowardice rather than decency. Ally had had a few bad boyfriends. In addition, her father, a vulgar man who is probably a Republican, and who is definitely an Engineer, cheated on Ally’s beloved Mother. The father was probably an I.N.T.J. It is hard to ascertain.

*To this day, I write in British English customarily by force of the habit she instilled in me early on.

Ally broke up with me on a whim. She grew tired of my melancholy broodings. They were brought on by several factors. Despite seeing her frequently in Public, long before I confessed to my parents, three months into the relationship, that I was dating her, I seldom if EVER got a moment ALONE with her, and even then I felt like I was out in PUBLIC when I looked into her eyes. It was unnerving, as you can imagine. And that is not cowardice, but decency, speaking of course.

There were other personal shortcomings she had, of course. An E.N.T.P. I knew, whom I have mentioned to you on Rosh Hashanah, (the day you nearly died of glasserations) once said that she was the “wrong kind of Zen”,
and, next to “crazy bitch”, I regard this as not only HIS best description for her, but THE best. Kresten of course suspected Andrew’s motives for saying this, knowing how much the Nicholson Sisters DEPLORED Andrew for draining their energy. PERSONALLY: they had it coming. If you (the General You, in this case referring to her) are going to BROADCAST YOURSELF as some sort of healer or mental health guru, you better prepare for actually DOING THOSE THINGS. But it was All a Show to the E.S.F.P. As was our revered relationship.

She got the ending that she wanted. The creepy intellectual loner was out of her life for only Four Months before he came back to their Family Home, demanding an explanation. She certainly had no reserve of malice and conviction in saying “I BROKE UP with you.” But it was news to the loner. When she and I last saw one another, I was convinced that we were still On a Break. Somehow, the adolescent girl EXPECTED me to GET that It Was Over, and that She Was Happy. It would have been sweet, considering we spoke to one an other again upon the same High School bench where I first sat down to talk to her, “intimidating[ly]”. But I was not buying the cyclical narrative. So I promised to become a Better Person, intent upon Returning Someday.

When I did return, I held in my hands a box of poems I had written to her on coloured index cards. The box was an empty Sudoku box, if I am not mistaken. Her family was terrified. It was late night; I was on their porch, a porch that I’d come to call Home, for she and I had agreed that it would be my salvation from my backwards, cynical Parents. This was the House where six nights a week the Nicholson Sisters would spend away from the apartment of their “Awful” Father, a man I tended to take kindly to in spite of all the nonsense on both sides. This was their Mother’s Home, a luxurious two-story suburban house, the second story of which, I must specify with dramatic irony I learned in Literature Class and Life, I only saw once. (I think.)

The Mother was an E.S.F.J. I do not doubt it. She talked my ears off. She talked everybody’s ears off. What she SAID was what Shakespeare would call a “tale told by a fool”, because it was more or less a string of seemingly unrelated Events. So much for Zen! But perhaps that’s what Alexandra THOUGHT Zen was. Once I tried to engage Claudia Nicholson in some sort of actually MEANINGFUL discussion. She must have been rambling on for an hour or so. We were at Rubio’s. I had before me a black bean burrito, mostly untouched. I got about three sentences in when she just did that thing that E.S.F.J’s do after I have opened my mouth: she sort of nodded with passive aggression, that I could not tell if she was trying to HIDE her bewilderment and lack of interest, or if she was trying DELIBERATELY to convey to me that she did not care and that it was my fault that she did not. A fault, I might add, that she would Pardon Graciously, of course.

Where decisions were concerned, there was no question of Emotion ruling over Intellect. (I hope by now that I’ve established that Claudia was not an “intellectual” even in PRETENSE, and Alexandra only so.) Her decision-making was erratic and spontaneous. Once we visited a Shopping Mall and walked into one of those really teenage clothing stores; perhaps it was Urban Outfitters? She saw a shirt that seemed like Alexandra would wear it; it was a mess of hearts the likes of which you would see at Hot Topic in aesthetic: cartoony, girly and tomboyish all at once, and far from capable of being described in post-adolescent terms. The shirt read “Love”, or may be it read “Screw Love”. If the former was the case, Claudia delighted in berating it, using the opportunity to self-identify with the berating. If the latter was the case, she simply self-identified with the Shirt.

When I showed up at their home, a box of love notes in my hands, Claudia was convinced I had a gun. The following day, I think, which would most probably have been a Thursday, I got a call whilst at the home of a certain Austin Williams. Austin, who might forgive me for using his name, for he goes by an Alias now, is your prime example of I.N.T.J. He used to come up to me and Alexandra at Graziano’s Pizzeria and ask us if we wanted to hear his stories. I was a Literature Major, of course, so I humoured the hell out of him. Any humour Alexandra felt towards him [w]as surely at his own expense. And I don’t doubt he knew it.

The phone call was from my Mother, who was too embarrassed to admit who or what it was that came to visit, but I had to come home quickly. I rushed like a madman home, God only knows how many blocks, fearful that Claudia had called the Police. At the time, “restraining order” was the most nerve-racking thing I could fathom.

It was just Claudia and Neal Nicholson, together in a room again at last, intent on talking to me about the well-being of their daughter. He had to level with me and to tell me that Alexandra thought I was a Great Guy but that she did not want a Relationship. I contested. He then went on to tell me that “relationship” is a ubiquitous term. Even he and *I* have a relationship, apparently! But of course I wondered this much: if RELATIONSHIP is so ubiquitous, and I did not doubt that Alexandra still believed in the Over Soul, as I did, then how could she OPT OUT OF IT? And why was I no longer welcome in Their Home? I did not think she would give me false hope of escape. The term “self-entitlement” was not in my vocabulary. This much was all ways clear to me: any one who lets you into his or her world OWES you the Security. Any one whom YOU let in to YOURS, you owe it to that person as well. Why was I so melancholy, as of November, when a week apart and an essay by Sartre sent me back into my Depressive Ways? It was a sense of IMPOTENCE: that I could not PROVIDE FOR my Beloved. And the graver this sense grew, the more she came to agree with it. At LAST, however, I had found SALVATION! The works of Osho, the notorious E.N.F.P. guru who (though I’d not known it at the time) ordered the poisoning of people with Salmonella, (How is this guy NOT listed in black on that Personality Website??) had become MY guru, via the miracle of the Internet. As I [s]at around ratting with Ally’s folks, I all so had my index cards. I had to show them the contents of the box, apparently. And I had to demonstrate my use of CHI in balancing them. I was sure that these practitioners of Eastern Wisdom and Holistic Medicine would understand. Neil was a reader of Eckhart Tolle, and Claudia listened to Deepak Chopra!!

Of course: she all so worked at Aurora Behavioural Health. Shortly thereafter she arranged a Panera date with my Mother. Mother returned, HOURS later, ecstatic. NEVER BEFORE had she been in the presence of so WARM and ENTERTAINING of a Woman! Of course, it’s not like Mother got out much. My Mom, the Aries, is all so a highly closeted I.S.F.P. For her, E.S.F.J. is what E.N.F.J. is to ME. We become that under stress. And there was a LOT of stress going around at the time, surrounding me, as you might imagine.

Why did I do it?

Put simply: it made sense. THESE are my Six Words to Sum Up Life: It made sense at the time. And that will ALL ways be my Refuge and my Solace. I cannot be BLAMED for how OTHERS REACT. I have only my Conscience, my Actions, and those Few People who would Listen.

Alexandra and her parade of lovers entered into my Life – MY INNER SANCTUM – and CHANGED things. They stormed my conscience and turned everything upside-down. They made a fucking mess. And then, having left the stove on, and the cookies still in the oven, which was still only pre-HEATING, and should not have even HAD cookies IN it yet, they left my Conscience to Burn to the Ground, a nihilistic mess that I had warned them about with every last smoke-filled breath. So who showed up at WHOSE home, then? Who was the TRUE danger?

You don’t come into my Life and then just LEAVE, Nicole. And if that seems FRIGHTENING to you, it’s time to grow up. You AFFECT people. And people don’t owe you the COURTESY of COMPANY. YOU owe THEM the courtesy of MAKING that Company Pleasant and RELIABLE. In the words of Meth Head Number X from Breaking Bad: You don’t put thoughts in my head. If you just up and LEAVE, you have wasted my time. And I can’t have that: wasted time. You owe me for it. And if Society disagrees, then guess what? Fuck society. My rebellion is not adolescent. It is SOCIETY that is adolescent; there only ever IS the ILLUSION of a Social Order when one is BEING an adolescent. ADULTS don’t send friends and parents to tell LOVERS AND FRIENDS to leave them Alone. ADULTS TAKE RESPONSIBILITY.

So you’re a Child now. So be it. It’s a good coping mechanism. Take as much time as you need. But don’t think I am going to let you dictate how I ought or ought not to feel. I remain a Free Agent, and these feelings, if I am bound to them and them alone, are as much your children as they are mine. I will NOT be forced into denying this.

I tried for a LONG time to find that Zen Ideal that Alexandra preached so hypocritically. But just as I reached Total Detachment, I took a walk down the street I’ve lived on for this many years. There was a woman, in her forties or so, standing upon her driveway, outside of an Open Garage. She was crying, looking down at the bottom of the road, where the Big Trees are. You should remember. And I say “should” imperatively, not only in hope. I asked her, airily, what was wrong. She told me, choking up and fighting to WITHHOLD an out-burst, that it was hard to let her kids go. It must have been that time of the year.

That only happened to me once. I do believe that it was GOD that wanted me to see and to hear and to WITNESS that.

Huxley was wrong. God wants us to be ATTACHED to Life.

There is an Aries named Slavoj Zizek. I typed him long ago as an I.N.T.J. That makes two; Maynard James Keenan is the only other Arian Mastermind I can think of.

Slavoj said that English and French are the only two languages in the World that have the expression “to fall in Love”: “tomber l’amour”. He distinguished Christianity as a Religion of the FALL from Buddhism, a religion of Ascent.

I choose the Fall, Fitz.

I fell in love with you.

And in love I shall remain.

If you wish, you can sweep me up.

Dm.A.A.

Post-scriptum: Claudita, the youngest daughter, just graduated High School this year. Anthony (E.N.F.P.) and I saw the sisters enter Denny’s just as he an[d] I were ratting about My First Play and His Film Scripts. Alexandra is an Aspiring Screenwriter. At least: the Internet attests to this dream, conceived of during our “Relationship”, remaining alive.

The Weird Sisters sat down pretty much two tables behind us. Ally did this thing she does; she began to orate loudly. I did my best to talk over her; they sat BEHIND me, and I’d seen them enter FIRST, so it was none too hard.

But then Anthony did the thing HE does. He could not keep his EYES off of Ally, and he was grinning with authentic malice. I kept telling him to stop doing that. Finally I had to explain to him, with TRANSPARENCY, the importance of remaining Uninvolved from them. I guess that Detachment pays off, though it is only a Means and not an End (as Aldous Huxley should have pointed OUT in a book that he himself entitled “ENDS AND MEANS”).

I was not TOO mean. But they left. You know what I mean. That was the end of that. The sisters legit LEFT the Restaurant!!

Anthony witnessed it like some sort of movie. This is yet an other one of numerous reasons that I do not hang out with [h]im any more. I become creepy by osmosis.

It’s true that Alexandra ALL ways found Anthony “intimidating”, even in High School. But then: she found ME to be that way, too. So she was nuts. Any way: Anthony’s generally unsettling demeanour and terrible dinner habits notwithstanding, we agreed that she was not over me yet. Our server, a young man who was clean-cut, married, but ostensibly “red-pilled” and Shamanistic, shared a laugh with us about it.

So much for Letting Things Go.

Maybe YOU will feel that same way someday.

But I do not mean to sound vain.

I warn you because I care. And because some days I DO give myself enough credit.

I dated one of the Hottest Girls at School.

And she still likes me, even after SHE broke up with ME. Had *I* broken up with HER, she might have internalized the bond submissively. But SHE broke up with ME. And she STILL comes in trying to IMPRESS me, LEAVING with her wing-girls when she FAILS.

I am a Catch.

Dm.A.A.

312:

I HAVE FIGURED IT OUT.

And by IT I mean MYSELF.

I just awoke mere minutes ago. I had to sleep in late, because I was so happy, and for fear of squandering this happiness I needed to retain a Dream Record that could salvage a strategy for its insemination in the future. I do not want only to ADMIRE the Tree. I do not desire only to BECOME the Tree. I wish to HARVEST and PLANT MORE trees! The seed for Elation rests in the Dream of the Truly Happy Man. After having lost some seeds to Mother and Father’s rowdy morning preparation noises (Mother of course HAD to put those clogging shoes on BEFORE she was ready to leave the house), I returned to Dreamland, but not before removing my underwear and sleeping naked (for Academic Purposes, of course). I was roused once more, by a phantom telephone, and spent the remainder of my now Afternoon Nap (unknowing that it was even the Afternoon!) in a pair of familiar boxers. As you can tell all ready: my satori yesterday awakened my SEXUALITY. You recall what I said? That my Anima is an E.N.F.P? Well: let’s just say we fucked. On the Fifth Dimension, obviously. So even more awesome than losing one’s physical virginity.

I have just removed the tea kettle, at 3:24 PM, according to the Kitchen Oven’s Clock. When I first set foot into the Kitchen today, the time was 3:12, an other Synchronicity not out of accordance with the MIRACULOUS Incident yesterday (which feels now to have been Eternities Ago). And as I conclude that sentence my Word Count reaches 264. Now 275. 277. 278…

This reminds me of Kurt Vonnegut. I read Bluebeard and was confused about why Vonnegut uses so many bizarre interjections and turns of phrase. I recognize this now as Extraverted Dialogue. AT THE TIME: I spoke in such turgid prose that this world seemed like some sort of bizarre Avant-Garde trick that only my retired Literature Professor could have dissected. REALISM was far from my mind upon readin the words “I can send out for pizzas if necessary. Come in, come IN.”

My DREAM:

It ended in a manner as idiosyncratic as the means by which I kept a record of it, and ALL MOST (If I may be facetious, perhaps) as idiosyncratic as my means for recounting it to you now. The details can wait for a Meeting In Person, which I don’t doubt now to be imminent in due – perhaps short – time. What I will say is this: before going to the kitchen and receiving the pleasant shock that I had overslept on God’s Own Watch, I wrote down notes on the LECTURE that had been the Dream, in the form of WORD GAMES on GRAPH PAPER.

Yesterday I watched one of my favourite Breaking Bad episodes with Mother, wherein Walt has to flee and make the family disappear, but Skyler has given away a substantial portion of his money to Ted Beneke. You would remember if you saw it. (Ahh: sweet memory! The bane of every E.N.X.P. and the delight of his or her more Introverted Neighbours: Introverted Sensation.) I remembered where I was in Life when I first watched it. I had taken a page from Walt’s book and started trying to hook up with a Scorpio barista whose sign I guessed on point at a Starbucks in Rancho Bernardo. I would try to send her coded messages via the Internet. I used Anagrams. This I still do for fun, from time to time. I even used the technique to name a reversed sound I designed (or “engineered”) yesterday which You will be hearing soon.

In the dream, I kept thinking of you. Of how you are to me as Rachel is to Bruce: my only chance at a Normal Life. I think now on how I had watched that movie with the family back in 2013, and how much I hated Mother for ATTACHING so much meaning to the Romance in it. My sister had to calm me in typically I.N.F.J. fashion.

Speaking of I.N.F.J.: it was JUNG who warned that the practice of Yoga by Westerners would only aggravate their neuroses. But did Alan listen? Did Joe? Did Aldous? NO. E.N.F.P. never learns, it seems, from the mistakes of others. It only uses them to get away with its own, either by following the example, or by pretending that one mistake deserves an other, as though the other were the only available alternative to the one.

As I kept thinking about you, the voice of the Dance Instructor, a GORGEOUS Libra Yogi, the kind that would work at Coyote if she were not too Headstrong, kept muttering, with feminine zeal and love, about the “Shadow”. It was like listening to an A.S.M.R, but the kind that triggers you the WRONG way because it makes you TOO relaxed. I kept fighting the hypnotic suggestion, telling myself that I NEED this. But how does a Pacifist say No to Peace?

As it turns out, I remembered, in a moment of Revelation, upon recounting these incidents in a sort of crossword puzzle, (upon Waking, of course) that it was the REPRESSION OF THE SHADOW PERSONALITY that created the Scapegoat and thereby the justification for WAR.

Here is how I remembered, and here is my Conclusion:

My EGO is Detached.

But my SHADOW is ATTACHED.

And my SELF chooses between the two.

My EGO all ways had sought to be Zen as Zen can be, but only so as to avoid CONFLICT.

My SHADOW, conversely, was full of CRAVING, DESIRE, PASSION, and CROSSWORD PUZZLES. ALL of which were demonstrated by my failed attempt at courting Cassidy the Scorpio.

It was my SELF that chose which path to take: the tender but ungrounded I.N.F.P, or the passionate but self-destructive I.N.T.J?

In the words of BoJack Horseman: that man you loved. That was me. But that other guy. He’s me, too.

Dm.A.A.

CABRACADABRA and the CULTURE OF ANTI-SOCIABILITY:

CABRACADABRA and the CULTURE OF ANTI-SOCIABILITY:

In Season Three of BoJack Horseman, Todd hires displaced stripper whales to act as drivers for a cab service he calls “Cabracadabra”: A spin-off of Lyft and Uber that hires women to drive for women. Over time, the service allows male passengers, who in turn enjoy the privilege of ogling their drivers. The premise for the service develops over time:

1.   A Safe Space for Women.

2.   A Safe Space for Women AND Men.

3.   A Safe Space for Women and Men to LOOK AT Women.

The absurdity of creating a motor vehicle that is at the same time a “Safe Space” is clearly satirized by the futility of a venture that was supposed to be a solution to a NON-EXISTENT PROBLEM. Yet we would only be humouring the illusion if we said that any part of this Absurdity rested in the fact of a “stranger” operating the cab.

One begins to wonder, inevitably, why Todd decided to hire female whales to drive his cabs, exclusively. The answer is summed up in the Episode “Stop the Presses”, wherein BoJack recounts Mr Peanut Butter in turn recounting a meeting with Todd and Todd’s girlfriend Emily. Todd begins by asking: Has this ever happened to you? Mr Peanut Butter, the insufferable extravert, does not hesitate to identify with every aspect of Todd’s demonstration, wherein Todd impersonates a can driver and Emily pretends to be his passenger. The Labrador’s face only falls after Todd asks, in a tone of undue insinuation, as though crossing a line, if Emily lived alone or with a boyfriend. At this point, even the people-loving, all-embracing optimistic dog mumbles that the scenario seems “inappropriate” to him, leading the audience to wonder what sort of sinister trauma this otherwise unassailable Golden Boy is hiding under his cheerful fur. Emily, the introvert, miraculously corroborates the extravert, feigning insecurity as she describes the encounter as “uncomfortable”.

What Raphael Bob-Waksberg is trying to convey here, with his usual absence of pretentious subtlety, is the prevalence, in both Introverted and Extraverted society, of ANTI-SOCIAL BEHAVIOUR. Plenty of the characters in BoJack Horseman have, if anything, overactive sex lives and romantic lives. In fact: the only EXCEPTION is TODD, who turns out to be asexual. And we only learn that after Emily PERSTERS HIM to consummate their relationship! Surprisingly enough, she is byfar less insistent and persistent once she has assigned to Todd a neat and clean label.

Despite the nymphomania running through the show, or perhaps, if the writer may speak cynically, BECAUSE of it, the characters, either by vice of projection (in the Extraverted Sphere) or simple COWARDICE and SOCIAL ANXIETY (in the Introverted Dimension) find a scapegoat in the Anonymous Stranger.

PERSONALLY: If I am going to trust some Everyman (or EVERYWOMAN, for that matter) to transport me across several miles in a mechanical death-trap that at any moment can collide into one of its fellows whose driver is intoxicated, (as tends to be the case with MANY former associates of mine, as well as their new friends on the road) I somehow have to assume the risk that my Guardian Angel will want to keep in touch if, by some miracle of Human Goodness and Sobriety, we both manage to survive the trek. I might EVEN PREFER to stay in touch, so as to ensure that this wonderful human fellow has survived his or her following adventures. I only abstain out of courtesy, of course, knowing that travelers prefer often to remain cloud-hidden, whereabouts unknown. Besides: I seldom employ a cellular phone nowadays (though of course this principle would be in exception at the time of the ride’s appointment).

As one grows older, one begins to rely less on the force of karmic habit to make associations. “Social Groups” (Whatever THOSE are), infantile complexes, and Grandiose Life Plans do not dictate Eros, that sort of Love that, in the words of Marie-Louise von Franz*, “do[es] this against the rules because I love this person.”

*The Last Psychologist.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.

Especially because the truly DANGEROUS people are those that operate WITHIN the illusion of the Tribe, ALIENATING others as though they belonged to some OUT-group!! These are the TRUE opportunists who do not actually take RISKS for the sake of social cohesion and adventure but rather SABOTAGE their closest fellows out of the same self-serving COWARDICE that keeps the adolescent illusion of the Social Group together!!

One reserves the right to decline a connection, romantic or otherwise. But to BLAME an other for taking the INITIATIVE is literally and clinically psychotic. When I get in the car with someone I “do not know” (as though Knowledge were possible of ANY one, even one’s Self!!) I must assume that I am not being transported by some robot or space alien. I am being done a favour for by a PERSON, and as such he or she has as MUCH autonomy in determining the COURSE of Human Relations as I do. No dated Authority can steal that Promethean Flame.

Dm.A.A.

LOVE as ALTRUISM, SELFISHNESS, MARTYRDOM, and NARCISSISM:

I loved Alanna selflessly. Let us begin with the foregone conclusion that I did so rationally, as well. If we entertain the possibility that I am capable of Unreason, then we cannot PRECLUDE the possibility that I am incapable of self-reflection, in which case any doubts of my own Rationality would be Absurd upon my part. Hence I am obligated by Reason Itself to presume that I am Rational. And since my condition can be extrapolated upon my readers, any similarly Rational Being must presume, likewise, that I am Rational. At the very least: I should point out that an IRRATIONAL Being would not be able to fathom Reason Itself to such an extent as I have done in this first paragraph.

There are three factors at play, each expressed as a dichotomy:

1.   Whether I am (and have been, owing to my Nature) Rational or Irrational.

2.   Whether I loved her selfishly or selflessly.

3.   Whether or not I had Power over the situation.

The first variable has all ready been made into a constant. The third was given by the logistics of the situation. What remains is to determine the Quality of my Character, and that was made clear by what I DID, as a Rational Being, with the Power provided BY the situation in question.

A Selfish Man (supposing he was likewise a Rational Man) in my Position would have behaved differently than I did. Making himself the priority, he would not have precluded the possibility that his fellows would have similar motives. He would have exhausted, as is the Nature of Selfishness, every effort in order to secure his own interests. He would have done everything in his power to corner the proverbial market.

In short: Alanna would have never met K., even if that would have meant risking harm to her, by withholding from her the one resource that she centrally depended upon for her mental health: Music. The harm would not have come from her consciousness of being left out, but rather the RISK of SELF-harm would have been, ostensibly, Greater.

A selfless man, by contrast with a selfish man, (supposing that both are Rational) would have, in my Position, not hesitated to invite Alanna to watch my concert, for he would have had no conception of self-interest in doing so. If he was covetous of her, it would have only been out of concern for her protection, part and parcel with the favour provided for her well-being: the providence of Music for an ailing but brilliant mind. Had I known that this could endanger her mind, by exposing it to selfish agents, I would have promptly made the necessary sacrifices and changes in arrangement that would have enabled me to provide for her by relatively riskless means.

So it is established that my love for Alanna was selfless. And this implies a Higher Priority ascribed to it. Whereas a selfish man can allow for loss, for he alone would suffer, a selfless man cannot, for Others would suffer. A selfish man can feign Happiness in Apathy, and he can even feign Apathy with the ultimate intent of Vengeance, turning his losses at one point into successes at a later point, irrespective of the effect upon other people. Hence detachment is the way of selfishness. But a SELFLESS man, paradoxically, or at least ironically, cannot afford to be detached, for he must adhere to the A.B.C’s of altruistic living:

A.   Accountability,

B.  Blamelessness, and

C.  Conscientiousness.

It is intolerable for a Rational Man possessed of a Higher Form of Love (one capable of greater Providence for Others) to lose the object of one’s love to a Lower Form of Love, (one that predisposes all involved to disappointment and therefore to HARM) supposing he is Rational and can make the deductions necessary to predict the Tragedy. Neither should such a man ever suffer blame for the seemingly inevitable collapse when in fact the EVITABLE Tragedy could have been prevented, and he is only charged with doing everything in his power to heroically do so.

USUALLY: friendship between Selfish and Selfless men is possible, granted that there is no extreme of Martyr and Narcissist. There is no Martyr without a Narcissist, for such self-sacrifice would not be necessary if dealing only with the Absurdities intrinsic to moderate Selfishness. And in such an extreme conflict, the Martyr excels in Virtue to the same extent as the Narcissist falls short of it; hence, even if they arise mutually, the Martyr remains the Moral Superior and the most Rational Choice.

A simply SELFISH man is capable of making amends for a misdeed against a more altruistic person, doing everything in his power to protect the Love Object in service to his friend the Altruist, and doing so in such a way that the Altruist is respected as a witness and authority on the Proper Course of Action. But a Narcissist is incapable of such respect, for to him all Others are illusory. No motives exist outside of one’s own motives and their enemies, to the Narcissist’s mind.

K. was a narcissist. And his refusal to provide for Alanna’s needs led to the loss of her life.

Yet it was not alone. For Alanna all so had a choice: to pursue the path of Reason and Health, or to fall into Madness and Despair. Her tragic flaw was her OWN Selfishness. By allowing her preference for a constructed fantasy, fabricated by the Narcissist, to take precedence over the Reality of her True Lover, the Martyr, she not only violated several moral principles, victimizing the Martyr unjustly (and beyond the necessary scope of his martyrdom, that extent to which it was necessary for him to contend with the Narcissist directly, upon discovery of the Narcissism), but all so harming herself, damaging the Martyr most through that seemingly INDIRECT means. The Martyr could only express this loss as personal suffering, and the Narcissist could interpret it as self-interest (for it was merely an abstract foe to him), but the Selfish Woman was TRULY at fault for failing to see the Martyr’s Personal Suffering as an extension of her own Ill Health. This was not because a Selfish Woman was incapable of understanding Altruism and the pain of Empathy; it was rather because she PREFERRED the testimony of the Narcissist, for totally self-interested aesthetic, hedonic, and egoic reasons on her own part.

So Alanna’s Death was ultimately Her Own Tragedy. But I make it a point for all to remember that she was NOT a narcissist, for at times she was capable of confessing my Altruism, without seeking any sort of apparent agenda by so doing, (but rather at the conclusion of such a fruitless venture) and at other times she was even capable of mirroring it. So she remains a victim of the Greatest Evil, which is that of Narcissism. And K. remains singularly to blame for her Death.

Dm.A.A.

SCORPIO SEASON: A Private Letter Made Public.

[777 Words. Sent sometime earlier this month, either last week or this one. Most probably the Sunday of our last missed date.]

SCORPIO SEASON:

It was hard on both of us. We are just extremely sensitive people with a lot of trauma. It was wise of you, I hope, to have decided to spend this time apart, so as not to tear one an OTHER apart. My only reservation is rooted in fear, fear that I was too swift to come to your aid. That you needed some one, but I had all ready been pushed away. That you found someone else to help you. That you found someone else. I can’t do that tragic situation again. But thankfully my Heart tells me I will not have to. And I trust you. You would not have shut me out if you had been unable to handle it. You would not have been vainglorious as to think that you could handle such a challenge on your own, if you couldn’t. You know yourself. More than you think that you do. Or than you let on.

There was a lot of karmic baggage to unload. I feel cleansed. Sagittarius is coming on. I just finished an other story arc of Breaking Bad with my Mom. I am in suspense for watching the beginning of the next. I tried to make sure she would be as well.

You are what I am looking forward to in THIS Life. Not unlike the end of a story arc, the upcoming Cusp of Revolution brings us to the beginning of my Favourite Four: Sagittarius through Pisces. And we start with YOUR element! Hazah!!

I want to celebrate this New Season in Life with You. Pardon my Element and All Its Pain. You’ve weathered worse Novembers than this one, I am sure. We both have. We know our coping mechanisms: Family and friends. Pensive introspection for me. And an all-you-can-eat Buffet of Activity for the Lady. Hearts.

I really believe that we will pull through this, Nicole. You know my Heart now, inside and out. I need not vent much more to you. The time for Enjoyment has come. Take me or leave me. Scorpio teaches us: All or Nothing. I am done being a Pushover.

I believe that you owe me a chance.

But I’ve not heard YOUR side of the Story yet!!

Know that I will always support you. My word is my bond. A promise is a promise.

Just don’t leave me in suspense.

And since we’re shedding our Scorpions’ Shells, I’ll just shoot this right at you like Cupid’s Flaming Arrow:

If you start to see someone else, I will begin saving up for an Engagement Ring.

I love you, Nicole. And I want to get married before I turn thirty.

Maybe that’s just Jupiter making false promises. It IS Thursday, Day of Jupiter, right before the First Cusp of Sagittarius, after all.

But perhaps it’s something more profound.

Perhaps it’s all so Pluto reminding me that, in my Heart of Hearts, I know just who I am and What It Is That I Want.

I suppose that all of this is fairly disquieting (or all TOO quieting?) to a typical Intuitive Extravert afraid of Commitment.

But I don’t doubt you’ve wanted this. If not with me, then with someone else. Yet I am all you have now. If I may sound a little vain myself. Or if I may puncture your vanity. Or if I may simply be so bold. I really want to believe that I Matter to You. I hold a Special Place in Your Heart and play a Pivotal Role in Your Life.

We both have Cancer in Midheaven. Or was it Midheaven in Cancer?

We just might be each other’s Cure for Cancer.

A fair chance is all that I am asking for. I’ve earned that. And you taught me to Value Myself. Thank you. I don’t believe my Gratitude for you will ever die.

And neither shall my Love for You.

I can let you Lead the Way. You would want to. You can help me onto my feet. Just give me a direction and I will go. So long as it is WITH you. You give me Direction. You give me Hope, as well as immediate and total Satisfaction with the Present. I would be a fool to give you up. What more can one ask for? It is the best of BOTH Worlds: Childhood and Adulthood. Capricorn and Cancer. Our Troubled Pasts and Redeemed Future.

And I know that I will be able to reciprocate. Yes: I say “will” instead of “would”. That’s the Archer talking. And you, the Champion of my Heart.

Forgive me. Please.

I love you, Nicole.

It gets Better.

Dm.A.A.

THE RAPIST.

THE RAPIST: An end to Apologetics.

MEPHISTOPHELES: You see, I raped her. You see those legs spread wide, like Devil’s horns? I was inside of them. Five times. I fucked the woman that you loved. I did it practically in front of you. And I did not relent. She was high. She was an addict. I aggravated her addiction. I destroyed her sexual drive, via cocaine. It was that same drug that afforded me that pleasure, at her expense. I drove a wedge between the two of you. I feigned guilt that I SHOULD have felt so as to make her think she suffered on YOUR behalf. As though I was doing you a favour by neglecting her. Missing her nineteenth birthday. She blamed you. It was much easier than to admit that she was wrong. I played on both of your emotions. My ex had gotten married. That marriage is finished now. I played the Hanged Man; I pretended to feel sorry for myself. As though I’d been the victim of my ex-girlfriend’s betrayal. It was I who had betrayed her. It was I who had betrayed YOUR ex’s sister, so that she, cynical and damaged, would turn against all men, turning your ex against YOU, so her Mother would then turn your OWN Mother against you, for eight years of suffering that I did nothing to assuage. I then used your relationship with your ex to justify my treachery to you. Your Beloved believed it. She ate up every lie I fed her. I never loved her. I just made her fall in love with me. I made her hate you. Every victim I have turned into a Victory. I claim Spite as a Throne. By the time it would have been clear to her you loved her and that her interests were yours, my “guilt” had run its course. I forgave myself, and by extension made her feel that she could forgive HERSELF. She was wrong, of course. She never could forgive herself for what she and I did to you. So she continued to suffer under that guilt, as I laughed at her weakness and your impotence in saving her. That guilt, having run its course in me, turned to anger. For your OWN anger, no longer justified, would justify my own, in self-defense. I claimed Spite as a Throne. I turned my victims into victories. And now: now she is dead. Abandoning you, out of guilt and rage, for she thought it was you that made her feel this way, she turned to me. But it was *I* that made her feel this way. You only brought this Truth to Light. Because you promised to be honest with her. I CONCEALED the Truth from her, so she would never trace it back to me. Until it was too late. Until I found an other whore to use: one much less willful. And by settling for the weaker of the two I destroyed the stronger of them. She died because of me. She died because she could not bear to turn to the man who truly loved her. It does not matter WHEN it was that I hooked up with my new broad. You can tell I do not regret the loss of yours. And she surely foresaw it. All too late, at any rate. Perhaps too early? And I laugh. At her and at you. Because she was your One Chance at True Love. And she was so desperate. She would have gone for you. You would have taken one an others’ Virginity. But I took hers first. I do that. So you could never understand one an other’s Innocence again. So you would die alone in your Ivory Tower of Innocence, while she burned in the Flames of Privileged Hell. All because you trusted me. All because I made it seem like I was such a Troubled Victim. And because I led you to believe you owed me this. But I never confessed I owed you any thing. Not even loyalty. Not even trustworthiness. Not even Justice. Not even Love. Not even her Life, when you, having shed all your pride, made yourself vulnerable again to me. And I have turned ALL of your former friends against you. And you alone know this. But why do you smile? I know: Because I am going to Hell. And you: you have God on your side. And I am laughing nervously at my own Fate.

Dm.A.A.

The END of CONFORMISM:

You can’t tell me to Think of Others when you marginalize ME. I AM the OTHER. MY experience is IMPORTANT, not THEIRS. THEY have to KNOW what I WENT THROUGH. OTHERS have to KNOW, so that no one else WILL go through that. Only then can there be Justice. Only then will I rest well at Night. I never will surrender what I know to the collective ignorance of some group. They are not people who think in a group; they are only people when they become Individuals. My Experience has Value, because *I* say that it does. No civil society can obligate the Individual to surrender his Autonomy to the Mass. That sort of martyrdom is not the burden of every individual who has been disadvantaged by a System. It is rather the burden of every Individual who has NOT been similarly disadvantaged: to Bring the System down, for even one human casualty is enough to destroy and then to recreate. It’s all ways been this way, and it SHOULD be this way, forever. That is the principle of Birth and Death. That is the INTEGRITY of the INDIVIDUAL LIFE, which is the only ACTUAL LIFE any one lives: Self and God, without any thing or any one standing in between. The parasite has no Self. It is only the Group. It has no God. It has only the Ego of the Conformist, devouring all those who do not conform and assimilate. I refuse to assimilate. And that is why I have no Agenda outside of my own Life. As it happens to be: Other People are PART of this Life. So what affects them affects me. But only because I see them in their totally UNIQUE, HUMAN pain. Not because I see them as mere extensions of myself and my own whims. Any one who demands Altruism and Consideration for Others whilst alienating Others from the Majority is a Narcissist. There is no such thing as a Righteous Majority Rule. People VOTE out of Self-Interest; the few who vote from Reason tend to be outvoted all the time. The System does not work, but narcissists pretend it can, because according to the Laws of Probability each agent of action will only be outvoted a MINORITY of the time. Yet we are not governed in truly MORAL decisions by Probability, but rather by Ethic and by POSSIBILITY. The narcissist, outvoted, flees the moment that he loses, for he only voted, to begin with, to preserve an ego. I dare not call it HIS ego, for possession itself is an egocentric delusion. The only vote that counts is Unanimous. What does not work for all works for none. God loves all beings. We are all his children. Authority belongs to the Elite Minority. Thankfully, we can become Minorities by the simple act of Becoming Anything outside of the Unintelligent Mass.

Dm.A.A.

THE DARK SIDE of the CHAMPION:

Anthony is threatening to file a restraining order against me. I made it clear to him that I wanted him to leave me alone: to stop calling my house, repeatedly, harassing me and my family. TO return my personal belongings. To atone for all the pain he has caused me, beginning perhaps with the fact that he would harass me over facebook years ago, one of a number of causes underlying my departure from Social Networking. Of course, I could hold him accountable for leaving me behind long before that, the year that I was having a psychotic breakdown. But I was not his friend then. Kresten was. And Kresten was supposed to be MY friend.

Where did the psychosis emanate from?

Among other things: I was coping with my first break-up by listening to lectures by the dangerous cult leader Bhagwan Rajneesh, otherwise known as “Osho”. Osho’s work still adorns the shelves of book stores. His name is listed under Famous ENFPs. It is not, unlike Ché Guevara, put in the Dangerous category.

Kresten was all so an ENFP.

As was Alanna.

They were all drug users and addicts, of one sort or an other.

I tried to help them all. I understood them.

But each of them betrayed me.

Alanna died.

And Anthony continues to harass me, as though it were HE that had the right to Demand Justice.

I understand now. He honestly believes himself, after all this time, to be in the right.

He harasses me, for a second time in two weeks, and for a third time this year, by phone.

And yet he tells me that it is HE that deserves Justice. That it is HE that is going to file a restraining order.

Por que?

It was MY face that he published to YouTube, without my permission. So I had to tear his ego apart. I even went out of my way, probably upon seeing that he’d re-uploaded it, to ferret out his independent ventures, just to point out how pathetic he is without me. With the hope for once that he would see me as an Authority, and not as a resource.

He insists that I have “done” something by virtue of the e-mails that I sent to him. But he never DID any thing to preserve Justice. He has only ever empowered the people who allowed for the rape, addiction, and death of my Twin Flame, Alanna Leigh McLeod.

He has all ways seen Justice as something convenient to himself.

He has done nothing to preserve my view of it.

And I knew the Victims.

I WAS one of the Victims.

And I allowed him to continue to use me.

Even though he mistreated them.

Even though he mistreated me.

And even though he did NOTHING to stop the people who DID all the Actual Harm. Rather than the Actual Good.

I was their martyr.

But not any more, Hawk.

I will not enable them any more.

I owe them nothing.

The money that they spent on me I never saw a profit from.

They might as well have been gambling.

And I can see just how much of a Joke and an Amusement they took me to be now.

Playing me like some slot machine.

Pushing my buttons. Pulling the lever.

Counting my cards.

I am Done.

The Champion has done more harm for me than any other Personality Type.

He thinks he can harass me and in the same breath accuse me of stalking.

He thinks he can escape responsibility for the harassment that he himself initiated, forgetting this conveniently as he continues to drug himself with his cult of Hedonists. Pretending that I owe him this, as though my “ego” were my initial Offense Against Humanity. Bullying me. Killing all that I love. And retaliating when I try to destroy what HE does not even CARE about.

And all the while insisting that he does not “really hang out with them”. At least: not unless God tells him to do a good deed for them. Playing Poker in Temecula the night that we are supposed to film. Delegating Directorial Responsibilities to the Lonely Virgin Artists as he goes out on a date. Evading accountability when I ask him for what the appointment was. Pretending towards blamelessness when he admit the date was cancelled, through “apparently” no fault of his own.

I have lost personal belongings, friends (who are no longer Among the Living), and all most my Civil Rights, to these People. My record will forever be tarnished by their hypocritical will to power, and my futile attempts to counteract their blackmailing and mortal negligence.

But I cannot let YOU go, Hawk.

Not yet.

Now right now.

Just show me that you are not like the Others.

Dm.A.A.

Let's Finish This: The Alpha Myth.

WATCH AND LEARN. (Follow the Link* to Watch. Read my Response in order to LEARN.)

*And for all the Alphas in the Audience: The "Link" is that block of underlined, coloured text that you just, by some miracle, successfully read. You may read this Italic Text too. Italic means slanted.

1.     The only people who are fit to have power are those who do not want it. Seeking power without approval from other men is a violation of the Categorical Imperative, which is the most Universal of Human Values, transcending all distinctions of class, culture, race, ethnicity, and (with some cultish exceptions that brainwash its victims) creed. True Leadership is not sought after for personal gain but rather acquired in an emergency. Often, disloyalty within a group of Equals, as the result of some want-to-be Leader Taking Charge, creates the drama that a morally upright person must act in in order to TRULY protect other potential victims. This is manhood. One does not rush into conflict in a spirit of competition. One waits patiently for a sound opportunity to arise, because only by so doing can pain be prevented for the civilized woman. If an other violates this code, then that other is at fault. Confidence comes with Knowledge and Wisdom, not with Arrogance and Debilitating Parasitism. That is called Fascism, rather than Love. And no one wants that. Besides: most women who are attracted to that are only trying to seek Power for themselves. They do not WANT to be protected, but they are being manipulated subconsciously (as you confess, in your hidden, robotic voice) into the protection of someone who is using them. When this is brought to their attention by their TRUE protectors, who have now to contend with this dangerous narcissist, and who have Rational Cause to suspect the woman to be in danger, they lash out. Nothing can justify this tragedy. We must work against delusional scumbags in other ways. ESPECIALLY if they are off deflowering virgins that would rightfully have been ours, for we have neither the troubled track record nor that same history of “Success”. I am a virgin, and I am proud of this. I lost a woman I loved to suicide earlier this year because of these tendencies. She deserves Justice. People have to know. “Passive aggression” is simply righteous indignation with one’s civility and tact in tact. If you love someone, you deserve to be with that person. No loving man can reconcile aggression with passion. No Rational Man can put an other through that which he himself would not want to be put through. Besides: no one is DOOMED to be a “second choice”, clinically. If she cannot see you for who you are, even after having known you long enough to form a trusting (and morally sound) bond, then that’s on her. But help her to see that, because if she falls for this then she NEEDS protection. Whether she knows it or not. Where do you think that Ethics come from? EVERY one employs them, even the Alphas. They are simply hypocritical in doing so. And hypocrites will accuse you of hypocrisy. It’s what hypocrites do.

2.     Knowing what you want is impossible without knowing what OTHERS want. Man is a social animal who asserts only that which would serve the Common Good. Otherwise, you are just living the life of an infant, unaware of the world outside of yourself, dependent upon others for all good things that happen to you and unaware that this is so. Did I mention relying totally on self-serving instinct, devoid of Reason, Wisdom, Patience, or Reasonable Doubt? Yeah. I guess that I did. Women who are secure do not need a fake who clearly has trouble trusting others but can never bring himself to admit his weaknesses. You know what weaknesses are? They are the very REASON you RELATE to BEGIN with. They are the very GROUND for even ENTERING a Relationship: to GROW. Without honesty about our shortcomings we have nothing. Without pity there can be little hope of sympathy and true relationship. NOTHING is more attractive than a fellow human being in NEED. Nothing else could be justified; we all depend on someone else.

3.     PESSIMISM IS NOT A TURN-OFF. Often times we are fooled by appearances and only once we have dashed our own hopes in false promises can we actually proceed with an Inspired Confidence. What woman has not learned this, one way or an other? The happy ones who reach a wise age say: Be a gentleman. That does not mean making promises you cannot keep or claims without warrant. That is weak and pathetic. Be realistic, even if a bad situation renders realism as pessimism. And no: pessimism does not equate to a lack of confidence. I can be confident in myself, but to that same degree I have doubts about others. I am not in Control of the World. I cannot change them. So I brood. I once knew a girl about whom I was going to ask, on our second outing, if our relationship was a Platonic One. I chose to wait until our seventh one, because the conversation seemed to be going so well (that it would have been selfish and disruptive to ask, obviously). It turned out that she was manipulating me the entire time; she never hit me up again after I confessed my feelings, even going so far as to demand that I stop checking in on her about our previous appointments. Five months went to waste in hope. But I recover because my past experiences have made me TRULY Strong and Emotionally Mature. She told me that my melancholy was not a problem. If she lied, it’s still on her. And you know it. I was not pessimistic about HER. But now I know better. I owed her the benefit of the doubt earlier. Grand Plans are symptomatic of an excessive Will to Power, and Jung demonstrates that this is the shadow of the Loving Instinct, mutually exclusive with it. And we cannot all “be the Leader”. The best leaders go unnoticed. We all have the same core needs, and being in power affords you no special privilege in a Civil Society.

4.     The entire purpose of Reason is to MINIMIZE risk and to reduce Conflict. INITIATING conflict is immoral; it violates the Categorical Imperative. RESPONDING to Conflict is natural, but how often, honestly, do people who create a mess reward the man who cleans it up? Never; they are incapable of living Reasonably. The Early Days of Mankind are GONE. We have a neo-Palium now, and it is no lack of confidence to admit that one’s own is developed and integrated healthy into the larger Brain. We have to discuss any backwards refuse from our Tribal Heritage with our partners in a manner that is safe and sound, devoid of judgment, both conscious and unconscious. It’s how we grow, not only as Individuals, not exclusively as a Couple, but as a SPECIES. Parasitism and Dominance are the Old Paradigm. Justice and Friendship are the Future.

My Father was an Alpha. He beat me whenever I contradicted him. When I had a psychotic breakdown after my first ex (who still attempts to impress me, apparently) broke up with me, I was marginalized as the Maniac in the House. But I was never the danger. It was my Father who tended to be most violent, and I simply got the blame. Many years later, I have taught him not to rule by terror, but to live by Love. It took him fifty years. But he finally matured. And I have done my part to hold the Family Together this entire time. He might even begin to see this: that Other Families matter too, and we must all learn from them in order to create the most loving environment for our progeny. If we cannot do that, we do not deserve to procreate. We become the LAST reasonable choice, not the first. Even dogs are loyal, and they learn from others.

5.     This is just a sick joke. Without “followers”, there can BE no Leaders! The Leader has to provide for all his followers; Leaders Eat Last. SOME one has to do the actual work. When I played in a band with a sociopath, he insisted on being the Leader. I accommodated his insecurity, because that’s the pattern we all ways followed. I did not realize he would betray me for a woman I’d loved for an entire month. But she was delusional and desperate. She confessed it a year later. The irony? It was a TWO-MAN band. And he would not even agree to reform it, with HER as the Leader, even after he had FUCKED HER FIVE TIMES. This is Kafkaesque and Absurd. She would still probably be alive if any one had held that parasite responsible. Here’s the irony to end all ironies: It was I who remembered al our songs, both mine AND his. He was too zonked to even keep track of them all. Some best friend, right? Some “leader”. Now people want to work with him because apparently *I’m* hard to work with. Someone who attends every meeting he makes, remembers all the details, and ADAPTS. On the say-so of a traitor. People are pathetic.

6.     Rape rhetoric. Plain and simple. Did I mention that the aforementioned all so fucked her after giving her cocaine? Yeah. Your ideal is a rapist. So good luck with that. Women want a man who will listen to her wisdom in becoming a Better Person. It makes her feel Important and Respected. Not like a useless toy. All ways put Others first. They, by the very nature of being Others, know better.

7.     L.O.L. Every thing you just said DESTROYS communication and plays on backwards Illusions. True Communication involves:

a.      SUBMISSION to the Other’s Wants and Needs. If I do not want to talk about it, you owe it to me we don’t talk about it. If I do not approve of a certain term you use, you do not use it. You are nothing without your partner; the Other is the Goal, and any self-respecting Self can recognize the symptoms of a narcissist who does not respect that Self as an Other. The closest I myself ever came to suicidal ideation was under verbal abuse. No one wants to feel like a wall for you to direct your aggression and insecurity upon.

b.     FAIRNESS towards all beings involved. What we discuss will affect every one, strong or weak, large or small. Leaders eat last; followers eat first.

c.      SAFETY AND SECURITY. NOT conflict and risk.

d.     REALISM. Especially about situations that look unpromising.

e.     TRANSPARENCY. Especially about one’s own doubts and Human, all too Human fears.

Opinions are cheap. Values are arbitrary without approval by the Community.

Don’t give in to Peer Pressure. Hitler killed no one. His people did.

You are a follower by listening to this.

If you must follow, follow the Righteous Path.

Dm.A.A.