A Tale of Trust:

We need to do some thing about the Tapeworm problem. I had a bad day and days like this it unsettled me that he has gotten away with so much. It is not right. There must be some sort of Divine Plan to assure justice in this respect. And it would probably involve you.

He had pretended towards my friendship for five years. When it mattered most he betrayed me and it was divulged to me that he harboured personal motives that contradicted mine. This must stop. He must not be allowed to purport his loyalty towards others when in reality he intends to impose an alien(ating) will. That lies outside the scope of his manageable sovereignty. I would have thought him shocked to find that I could contradict him after five years. But in fact the shock was mine that he would contradict me, and shamelessly. My mind still cannot comprehend the impact of his parasitic words: that he would regard what "I wanted", with an emphasis upon ME, as secondary to his OWN agenda. Added to this was the nature of the betrayal: the fact that I was literally in no position to defend you for up until that point I had been led to believe that our condition as adversaries was a friendship. Then there was the fact that he never formalized our adversarial conditions, so his act of war was totally without warrant. Add the emotional impact that in place of gratitude for the privilege of my company, and for the gift of my trust, without the combination of which no conflict could have even befallen, he took for granted these conditions as though they were the workings of a totally impersonal will. (Hence I was depersonalized.) then consider the absurdity underlying the fact that he took advantage of some thing that had clearly been a mistake upon my part but that was not my fault for the reason that he was the one who chose to take advantage of it. So it would follow that any attempt to remedy my mistake should benefit me and not him, (again: an absurd dichotomy, but not an unmanageable one where Justice is concerned) but instead HE pursued his OWN benefit even whilst BLAMING me for the mistake that had made such a benefit possible! In short, if I am to blame for my own misery, then so is he, and if he insists that I was mistaken in trusting the two of you together then he must absolve himself of perpetuating the mistake by allowing you to take advantage of the circumstances. (This allowance is of course not the absolution but the perpetuation.)

There is no way around it. He committed self-interest, the most irrevocable and depraved of sins. The only question remains: what is your plan to bring him to justice? My attempts to outsleep him in terms of women has met with undue failure.

We should work together. It would be fitting, given that the two of you conspired against ME.

I know you shall see justice done. You would regard it as a smudge upon your honour to condone this violation of both Golden and Silver Rule of Ethics. Besides: (and this is a big aside) if any one pledges loyalty towards me, that is an investment in my Honor. How can one shamelessly then harbour dissent? There would be no necessity for dissent if the conditions are mutual and the trust informed. Notice my use of both the hypothetical and the present tense in one sentence. Clearly by this I mean that the present encloses the hypothetical; if the conditions are NOT mutual, and the trust is ill-informed, then of course a deviant hypothetical narrative is conceivable. But to suggest that this narrative, made actual, was conceivable from the start is to admit towards one's present debauchery and guilt as the ill informant. Finally, this course is a failure to reach the realm of Moral Absolutes, which every one involved had pledged to, and so the decision to exclude me with the thought of personal gain is tantamount to rape, both of me and of you, for it violates the entire rational system of justification that must by necessity precede and follow the act of sex. In short, Tapeworm has failed to demonstrate humanity. A proverbial "fail @ life". And I will see justice done. As I am sure you will once your strength has recovered. God knows that, all most two years after the fact, mine is still just barely seeping back.

Dm.A.A.

A Tale of Inversion:

Traditional gender roles dictate that men are supposed to be masculine and that women are supposed to be feminine. There was no conspiracy underlying this. It was simply a cosmic trend. Women received feminine energy and men received masculine energy. The balance was maintained, albeit precariously, through the observation of traditional roles.

As time progressed the balance eroded. The masculine became overvalued and the feminine was repressed. However there was a balancing tendency manifest in the fact that a minority of the male population adopted feminine roles. These men were estranged from both their male brethren and the majority of females who felt no need to have men in their lives who would simply mirror their own submissive tendencies. Yet a minority of unconventionally masculine women loved these men, for these masculine women saw value in the femininity that they themselves lacked. These same women all so modeled their own masculinity after adult father figures, observing the masculine tradition with humility and respect.

The contemporary crisis mirrors a cosmic crisis. Women are now receiving masculine energy and men are receiving feminine energy. Women are becoming men, and they are doing so collectively, not individually as before. They have severed ties with the masculine tradition, and so they are behaving like adolescent boys: in short, patriarchal bastards.

Patriarchy is not to be confused with the masculine tradition. Patriarchy is simply an unintegrated and immature form of masculine energy. In Spanish the term is "machismo".

The concept of Equality is a masculine concept. Its antithesis is Inequality. The former is Ordered and Leveling; the latter is Chaotic and Subtle. Only by balancing equality with inequality can the genders coexist harmoniously. To presume entirely upon either Equality OR Inequality can only produce disaster.

Inequality, once vilified a priori and with cruelty, becomes by avenue of repression the very Devil that it was accused of being to begin with. This proves nothing except for the raw power of ignorant repression.

When women behave like patriarchal bastards, their demands for equality are most easily met by patriarchal bastards. The male of macho persuasion need only to compromise his machismo a tiny bit in order to level with a modern woman. He can then treat her with all the roughness with which he wants himself to be treated, and thereby an unstable but nonetheless mutual confluence is established.

Equality becomes most difficult to the sensitive man. It is insufficient to treat women the way that they wish to be treated; they expect you to KNOW what they want, only because you are a man. The presupposition is that all men want the same things. It would thus follow in theory that if a man is sufficiently egalitarian to meet social standards then he will automatically accommodate the desires of any woman by simply treating her how he himself wishes to be treated. Underlying this is the final conceit that how any man wishes to be treated is in fact how any woman would want to be treated. This is Equality.

But not all people wish to be treated the same way. Not all of them even want to be Equals! The sensitive man wants to be seen as a nurturing, compassionate, and yielding being. He wants to reward women for their own sensitivities by offering them the opportunity to be nurturing, compassionate, and yielding. Yet modern woman hates to be regarded as possessing such feminine virtues, which she regards (falsely) as a demeaning regression.

In the past women were rewarded for being feminine. In the present no one is rewarded for being feminine. In the past even men were rewarded for being feminine, via a reversion of roles that was peculiar but efficient. In the present, the roles are flipped for every one, but the feminine role is never rewarded. Woman fails as man because she does not wish to listen to masculine tradition. The result is that she competes with man (in a very boyish fashion) for the coveted male role. The man fails in his new feminine role because women do not possess the sufficient masculine maturity in order to fulfill the chief purpose of masculinity: to serve and to protect femininity, and to reward and nurture it.

In this sense masculinity becomes femininity because to nurture femininity is to be nurturing and to be feminine. But since no one wants to nurture (as a rule, and by that I mean to suggest that there are rare and precious exceptions) this synthesis, the ideal of Integration, is seldom achieved. And so society falls out of balance and into total discord.

Dm.A.A.

DR€@M:

A dream surrounding tests and books. The hermit, the Virgo. Like the guy who raises orchids in twin peaks. A series of classes in high school. A delayed graduation and perpetual adolescence. All the anxiety of codependency and attempts to resolve a very difficult problem for some one else when one's own services are unappreciated. The breach of sacred boundaries. A troubled childhood, an unspoken abuse. A futile romance. Growing up too soon. Fighting depression and parasitism; drained by narcissism and manipulation. Exploitation. Escape to an island. The hermitAge [sic?]. An Aquarian Renaissance. A Nee* Age. Only a Joycean stream of consciousness can reveal the psychic merit, like a Picaresque stroll through Grand Avenue and into Swami's and the eyes of Dana H. *New/neé?
Post-modernity. Distorted causality. Excuses for abuses. Bad behaviour and vengeance against the well-meaning. The Horns are Innocent. Temporary psychosis. Betrayal and: possession!

Dm.A.A.

Letter to Parents:

Let's get this straight once and for all:

You need me more than I need you. You need me to take care of your pets, your house, and even yourselves. You have no friends. And you try to blame me for this and delude yourselves that I am in a similar situation. Every day my life is getting better and so far you have only rejoiced when I was miserable and tried to sabotage me when I was successful. You can't even admit that I have been successful; you know pitifully little about me and presume pitifully more. I will no longer accommodate your prejudices trying to impress you. You are awful people and if you want to change that and feel less lonely about yourselves then you can begin by cutting the bull-shit and treating me on my own terms as an adult. I am all ready doing you a huge favour and you behave like ungrateful children. Begin by showing some unconditional love, and then MAY be you'll get some in exchange. I can't promise it, because that would be conditional. And understand that I deliberately leave you out of my life because you have all ways tried to leech off of my success and worsen my failure.

This is all true because it is all I've known since I was born. You can delude yourselves that you can have your own slave that you get to get angry at who does not talk back and is molded in your image. But I am twenty-five and totally self-responsible. This stops now. Take responsibility for others' boundaries and you might learn some thing. Take responsibility for yourselves as parents. Expect nothing in return; this was YOUR decision not mine.

Do NOT text me. I will text you if I need you. Be ready for it, follow through, and then I will believe you care. I don't need any thing material for Christmas so much as I need parents who can treat me as a rational adult and behave rational towards me. It was never my responsibility to meet your arbitrary standards for acceptance, at the expense of my own potentialities. It was YOUR responsibility to accept me in whatever I chose to be. If I think you are awful parents, you are awful parents. If you raised me wrong and left me bitter, that is your doing and no way to escape that. Thankfully MOST people treat me with respect so I like most people. But I would not tolerate abuse from any one. I got home on my own yesterday. If you cared you would be happy to see me in the morning and content to see that I was happy. So quit using me. YOUR behaviour is inadequate. You never treated me as an equal, despite my being your child, so don't start talking to me now about what is or isn't fair. If it's not helping me: it's not fair.

Merry Christmas.
Dmytri.

Dream A.

12-12-2016. Monday.

 

Dream A.

 

The dream was set in a variety of locations. Its progression was practically indiscernable from the conversations of the prior night (Sunday). It was quick-witted and fast-paced, breaking new ground in a variety of familiar places. For instance, the blame game was still operating, if memory serves, yet I surely would have fled the island of its operation. Most noteworthy was that the networking game, which had all ways been held on an elaborate city-wide playground comprised of old vessels (“tiny vessels”, as per the D.C.F.C. song) remodeled to be houses, was an arena that I took successfully by storm. It was reaching a fever pitch and I was at the head of my particular team, though of course I was fundamentally a renegade. This symbol of course represents the Rancho Penasquitos drug culture, particularly the capillary of the drug trade that runs through Carmel Mountain I.A.L. Last night was the night I hung out with Mariah, Derek, and that Irish fellow.

 

Love, romance, betrayal and vengeance oversaw the proceedings in very Scorpio Romantic fashion, with all the Venutian stylings of a Libra or a Taurus.

 

I am thankful at present for my return to Dreamland, in the sense that I have decided to begin this dream record again. Remind me that any one who diverts my attention from its sanctity is bad news.

 

The dream took me to a distant isle where again I had a wife and probably children. We did our best to keep the war at bay. I wonder if C[lever] was in it in form. She certainly hung over it in spirit.

 

Our culture I.A.L. is dominated by the will to power. Yet the Unconscious offers love, compassion, and spiritual redemption. Debaters manipulate words to their credit and then berate philosophy as comparable to their own depravity. Yet mystics understand what the words are meant to refer to: the divine love that manifests in greater subtlety and variety than power ever could, for all its fiery vainglory.

 

Music was central thematically to the dream. I played a variety of instruments in increasingly more luxurious, if still fundamentally humble, venues. Behold the House of Career. What is interesting to note is that most of the intellectual abstraction I experienced (thought IS experience) was set in the Music Rehearsal Hall. (I all most pictured an actual hall when I repeated that pretentious term.) This mirrors the veritable fact that my waking life has put me in the company of those peers for whom thought is musical, expressed in either consonance or dissonance rather than “sense or nonsense”.

 

It would all ways puzzle me that people complained of either music or life when it did not “make sense” to them.

 

Were it not for the mirror, the fact would remain. I would simply have no metaphor to reflect upon.

 

Upon reflection, I am happy. Angst does not need to sadden me so much as it did at first upon sitting down to write this.

 

I am seated before the Christmas display on Avenida Rorras.

 

Dm.A.A.

Public Letter to Rafael Allen Romasanta III:

Despite its abbreviation and the fact that it's a finger pointing, your being in Oklahoma doesn't make a point nor render any thing that happened/that you did OK. That being said, I still will hold you accountable for the Secret of the Golden Flower. You were responsible for my personal belongings, as I could not pick them up from you without encouraging you by so doing to leave without proper notice to the Debate coaches, whose jobs you endangered by choosing to leave any way. You all so got Daniel Mendez into a lot of trouble then, and so it looms ironical that he is your facebook "friend" and not mine. But that is peripheral. You never lent me any of your books on Jung, despite a common interest in his work. Yet far from honoring my own possessions you dispossessed me of that volume, which falls under Jungian literature. Ergo I feel entitled to its return. Johanna offered to mail to me the book of Rilke's poetry that I'd lent to her. You can likewise purchase an other copy of the Secret of the Golden Flower, translated by Richard Wilhelm with a section by Jung, and mail it to my address. This seems in order, since you have for a long time had access to a source of money that you did not have to work for (and nor did the provider of that money), and besides as a literature major books have never been hard enough for you to come by. I've been lenient with you. Today I was reminded of an elderly Scorpio woman whom I'd met at a horse race who insisted that I should drive to your home in Temecula and show up to your door to get my belongings back. But we are past that. She all so pointed out that Scorpios come in three varieties and that plenty wind up in a dark place. This latter fact I'd known for a long time, but I am past the point of trying to save people like you or Kresten. I am simply contented to have met Scorpios of the magnanimous variety; you and Kresten are of course of the lesser breed. so be it. I got my old Casio back from him recently, and he stills owes me for three of my books which he had "lost", and plenty of other belongings. Don't think that I'll make the same mistake twice: nothing that you say can really sway me. I learned the first time, from my tragedy with Kresten. No degree of pettiness upon your part can undo the fact that I'd extricated myself from your company long before it could have done the same sort of damage as his had done. I have no regrets. I apologise for nothing. I know how to deal with you now. You all ways demand leverage. So here is mine: I am thankful that you have a reputation. I have none. You can see that. I have nothing to lose. Do good by me, within reasonable limits, and I shall not feel inclined to divulge what I know about you. I would not call this blackmailing, and I do not approve of the degenerate term "snitching". I simply answer to a power higher than yours, and all ways have: the Truth. Had I known its merit earlier I would have saved my self and plenty people that I loved a lot of pain, trouble, heartache, confusion, delusion, misunderstanding, damage, trauma, and disappointment. People are fragile and you must know that in this lifetime you shall not take advantage of their fragility. I trusted you with my heart and you only used what I confided in you against me. You never had the same trust in me, so I cannot be accused of violating it. You were only petty and controlling. But I am free of your controlling pettiness now. And distrust notwithstanding I will not hesitate for Truth to be heard if I do not gain some closure and affirmation of your desire to reform. If indecency persists, I cannot be blamed that it becomes evident to the general public. Though I pray it does not come to that. Happy Holidays. Dmytri A.A

A Tale of Agency:

A Tale of Agency:

I some times wonder about whether or not every one here knows about me and all my exploits. The awkward reactions. I am probably bringing up things they had never thought about before. Tough questions. And then my paranoiac mind fills in the details. Some one found the love note I slipped into your tip jar. It’s hardly the sort of spontaneous gesture of affection that contemporary society smiles upon, but then is “society” not a projection of my most recently conditioned cynicism?

I suppose a natural, thirsting romantic would appreciate a secret admirer more than any one else would. It would be the dream-come-true that you have all ways wanted. You have all ways pretended that your boyfriend at any given moment might live up to your expectations. But I see it in your eyes: the discontent, the haze that signifies that you are holding back from every thing that you would never tell any one, but that you are secretly dreaming of a better life, and planning a way to turn your present life into that.

Why not yield to me? I feel, distance as you’ve kept me at, and as much as convention might bar me, that I’ve known you through several lifetimes. And having expected this fortuitous meeting for the past year, far from filling me with doubts as regard the prospect of what psychologists call confirmation bias (the superstition that wanting some thing fervently would predispose one’s self to delusion when one believes one’s self to have found it), I feel more certain of this than I have ever felt certain of any thing. The fact is that, intellect intact, I feel that we can pull this off. Why? Because you have lived up to all of my expectations, save for one, and even that one I am uncertain of: that you do not fervently stalk me to the degree that I stalk you. And yet I don’t imagine such daring deviance, which fills my nerves with fire at each long, laborious walk to this coffee house, and that transmutes as though by some alchemical magick to raw nerve and confidence along the triumphant walk back, would estrange you or lie “beneath you”. As the Taoists spoke sagely: “The Way seeks the lowest level, the one that human beings abhor”. And just as surely as we slip beneath the radar of conventional consciousness, my naïve and clumsy gestures notwithstanding, so it shall be that we soar above the binding laws of convention and instituted status quo.

My final point in my neurotic self-defense is this: that had I not known that this day some day would come, I would all ways FEEL this primordial love that culture, in all its attempts to represent it and then to bastardise the representation, can never touch or besmirch, that psychology cannot reduce and that philosophy cannot deconstruct. All generic and cliché ideas come from SOME place. Human beings are NOT predisposed tragically towards disappointment; it is rather that they envy, covet, and chase what they are not yet ready for.

I love you, Clever Field of Barley on the Hill. If I did not know this day would come, I would allow you to be swept away under the raw force of socially organized power, the most brutal wilderness to lose one’s guiding star within. In that sense, that the positive part of culture has helped me to combat the negative, culture acts as a set of water-wings. I shall not dare to let them turn to weights when it comes time to truly fly. I want YOU to fly with me, Clever. I cannot imagine joy without you.

Dmytri A.A.