They Both “Come” From the Earth.

Last night I met up with a friend from a far away land. We hit the streets of Manhattan running. Hold. We weren’t even walking by The City’s standards. Mostly, we crawled along the Lower East Side as my friend took endless pics of random… randomness. I bet the best pictures are the ones in which I vogued. Well, I didn’t exactly “vogue”, as much as I stood under colorful lights and smoked. And I smoked a lot.

We stopped at a Mediterranean spot and enjoyed our pasta until we somehow came upon the topic of “The Unspoken Rules” of marriage. For example, if I were a happily married man, it would be against The Rules for me to go out with another woman without my wife knowing. My friend sees this as a suffocating restriction, (which it really isn’t, as it is a matter of respect), so we decided to HBO Zone random people on the street. We spoke to singles, we spoke to couples; we spoke to straights, we spoke to gays; we spoke to the young, we spoke to the elderly; we even spoke to a couple straight from France. Everyone we questioned agreed with me. She won’t agree, as I’m now sure she’s slightly delusional, but everyone did agree.

As a form of revenge after a severe loss, she took twice as many pictures of physical manifestations of nihilism, and forced me to walk at a pace foreign to me and practically illegal in Manhattan.

After a while, we hit our final destination, enjoyed a few beers, and we discussed, (READ: I spewed endless “Zeinisms”), real-life zombies. Trust me when I tell you, they do exist! I met a girl from OkCupid at the place who had a virtual heart attack because someone recognized her from the very public and free “dating” website. (I’m there to promote my blog. :P)

As is my custom, I ended up pissing my friend off, as I’m wont to do with everyone that comes within earshot of me, but in the end we made up over pizza and jizz. Allow me to explain. We were watching people play pool, when this one guy dropped half a pie of pizza onto the floor. He and his buddies picked up the slices and continued eating them. I expressed disgust, when my friend asked, “What’s so bad about the floor? What do you think happened there?” I made the universal motion for jerking off, and made sput-sput sounds with my mouth.

She said, “Pizza and jizz both come from the earth.”

Later on we had a slice and wished each other a good night. None of it landed on the floor.

So I almost died today…

I’m a firefighter, and while we had a minor fire today, it wasn’t there that my life nearly ended. Our department has a fireboat. It’s a beautiful piece of equipment, probably worth two or three million dollars. Supposedly, there’s a class coming up soon, where I can be a certified fireboat sailor of sorts. The class would cost me thousands of dollars as a civilian. The department will train me at no cost. I also signed on to become a rescue diver, and I’m just waiting for a class to start. That’s another certification worth thousands that won’t cost me a dime. I can’t wait!

In the meantime, I accompany the guys in the house who are certified, and we occasionally perform maintenance checks. The boat has a few hatches here and there where the mechanical parts can be reached for various maintenance checks. Today, we had to babysit a boat mechanic as he checked various parts, so I was sitting in the captain’s chair with a coworker in the navigator’s seat, and as there was nothing for us to do, we were shootin’ the shit about Guitar Hero III when my other MANIAC coworker got jealous. My other coworkers and myself nicknamed him “The Maniac” because we’re convinced he has HDAD. His relationships with many people are strained because he doesn’t know how to just take a step back, breathe, and be reasonable. On top of that, he has what I refer to as “Little Brother’s Disease”. He’s the baby of his family, and even though he’s five years my senior, he acts like a baby. He acts as if he wishes I were his little brother, and gets extremely jealous if I speak to one coworker in particular. They’ve had two semi-physical confrontations in the past.

Now back to the near-death experience. I was talking to one coworker, when The Maniac grew jealous. The Maniac was asked by our captain to carry some stuff to the back of the boat. It was nothing he couldn’t have done by himself, but being that I was talking to someone else, he decides to delegate the minor job onto me. He hands me the stuff while I’m not even looking at him, which I found rather rude and told him so. But I grabbed it from him anyway to prevent having to argue over nothing with this baby for the umpteenth time, and took a step around the captain’s seat, forgetting that the hatch was still open.

My left leg fell in the hole and what broke my fall was my head cracking against a permanently set table. As comical as the fall was, I could have easily broken my neck. So now I have a big, ugly bruise on my hip, a knot on my head the size of another smaller head, and the instep of my left foot is sore.

Of course, The Maniac goes into big brother mode and blames me for my fall, and while I should have kept my bearings with my surroundings, I wouldn’t have fallen in if he wouldn’t have not gotten jealous like a baby because he didn’t have my undivided attention - which he needs AT ALL TIMES! As we were leaving the boat, I informed him he’s “on punishment” for two working days, not because of the lump on my head, but because I could’ve broken my neck, all because he’s a baby. And he only understands me when I talk to him as if he were a baby. It’s a totally pathetic situation, I know.

So yeah, I almost died today.

Jenka’s response to Sex=Success

Sex=Success, huh? I’m glad you explained yourself with the second and third posts on the subject.  I was nearly about to strangle you because of the first.  As I read them I imagined you with a funky ponytail on the verge of exclaiming, “TAME THE CUNT”.  Hehe, thankfully you made sense of your point in the end and it really wasn’t too far off base. 

I feel the same in that I think the ultimate human goal is to replicate yourself. Obviously, sex is the way to do it.  But you totally neglected the process it takes to find a suitable partner for raising a child.  You focus on the act and what it yields but what about the search to find someone worth having children with? Even animals that function on base instincts still are somewhat discriminatory. It is most often based on “looks” or strength and ability to provide (birds - plumage; wildcats - physique/success on kills; penguins - “heartsongs”; rinse, repeat regarding, at least, the kingdom of Animalia.)

Do you not consider finding a compatible mate worthy of extrapolation? Or did it not cross your mind? Or is it irrelevant to your point?

I think it’s fairly important if sex is really a success.  Any man can blow his seminal fluid into a sodden, sweltry sleeve, but, I believe, it is important for the sentient individuals to separate themselves from the base humans in how they go about procreating. 

Adolescents with little self-control and overcome by hormones, will engage in coitus and, unfortunately(because of poor sexual education and lack of accessibility to contraceptives), will achieve the ’success’ you speak of too soon.  It’s either that or abortion.  I found your abortion view quite interesting.  Nearly compelling, but I still want to remain open to it when I consider exactly who the morons getting pregnant when theyre still in high school are! 

This seems like a really complicated subject I’m not sure I can really ponder over and discuss in the short amount of time before anthropology class.  I definitely want to steer away from abortion and pregnancy in adolescence.  I’ll just hope that that sort of problem isn’t perpetuated by the children of those that made such mistakes in their youth(though I have seen the patterns).

I feel rather fortunate I am the spawn of parents that made very calculated decisions regarding sex and pregnancy(’least mah mum).  If I were to follow in her footsteps, I’d have just over 2 years to find a father to my future children.  That means time to finish my degree AND get a job just before going on maternity leave! bahaha(THANKS FOR BEING RESPONSIBLE, MOM)

Back on course.  I’d like to differentiate between our kind(I’ve placed you in my group because I know the outcomes of certain events in your past weren’t always in your control[how dare a woman think just because the lifeform is dwelling within her body it's HER choice alone!]) and the kind that goes out getting pregnant/impregnating before important rites of passage on the way to adulthood. So, spawning is the success, but how to go about it? This is where I find arranged marriage to be smart thinking.  Sure, the persons that are being married may not like the idea of not having much/if any say on who they are marrying, but it’s because it is understood by the culture that children don’t really know what’s best for themselves regarding marriage and childbearing.  Elders, on the otherhand, do know.  They’ve had years of experience.  They take many things into consideration and see a situation with a clarity that two kids in love can’t. 

You consider sex to = success, but I think finding a suitable partner to have children with the success.  I don’t recall you mentioning adoption, tsk-tsk. Adoption isn’t as fulfilling, though, now is it?  We have an innate desire to replicate ourselves; yes, I agree–if we don’t replicate, we have failed.  But do we not fail if we replicate and the child grows up with an absent mother or father?  Is it really success to bring a life into the world and leave it to spend the first 18 years of life in foster homes?  Is it success to bring a child into the world and have it endure sexual/physical abuse by a mother or father? Is it success to see your mother procreating with different men and never actually knowing your own father? Or is success merely giving birth to a human that can eventually fend for him/herself and raise a family of his/her own? 

I suppose I am convinced that the mere act of conceiving and having a child that reaches adulthood is success, at whatever cost.  But my focus would be more on the stable environment the child is developed in.  I have willingly spent a lot of time observing others “live life” because I know that the knowledge I take from their mistakes will aid in my not repeating them.  I have watched friends contract sexually transmitted viruses/diseases, have children out of and in wedlock, have abortions, divorce, win/lose custody, etc(I suppose I always have been a bit of an ethnographer).  These things have been physically/emotionally exhausting for all parties.  The last thing I want is to be that sort of statistic.  I want to raise children that can admire me for the decisions I made.  That I can proudly say I’d like to have follow in my vigilant footsteps. 

This is my time to gather information and conduct research so that I can say my most important contribution, my final thesis, my magnum opus(hehe, this is too much fun) was composed with my absolute best and most educated efforts.  I am taking the good decisions my parents made and building upon that to create a better foundation for my future children. 

I don’t need to have sex with strangers or people I barely know or am barely attracted to to be successful.  I am not slighting those who have taken part in such behavior, though.  My original reasons for it have to do with my upbringing.  I am abstinent now though because I am too educated to partake in acts that are only excusable for those who haven’t had the pleasure of being enlightened.

I feel I was enlightened at a rather young age, and although sometimes I wish I could participate in the acts the world at large take part in carelessly, I will take comfort in not having to deal with the not-so-fun consequences of such behavior. 

I will attempt to go into what ’suitable mates’ are in another installment ;-]

The End of Productivity…but not really.

The end is here, my friends…or is it?

In parts 1 and 2 of The Productivity series I’ve made a case for the illusions we use to convince ourselves of anything but the only Truth concerning the human race. In short, Sex = Success.

In closing, I will touch upon certain factions of society which might be seen as exceptions to the rule. It’s taken me a few days to come up with this list, but quite honestly, I’m having trouble convincing myself that they’re really exceptions: (Keep in mind I’m not by any shape or form an expert on the following, and will only try to find purchase in the potential discussions proceeding.)

Homosexuality. As I understand it, one is born a homosexual, and homosexuality is nothing but a person of one sex feeling for someone of the same sex what heterosexual people feel for other people of the opposite sex. The “circumstance” of homosexuality raises the question of whether or not sex is still success even without the possibility of natural-born offspring? I believe being born homosexual does not guarantee that such a state of being is not some kind of chemical imbalance in the brain. A homosexual has all of the same sexual urges as a heterosexual, and for the “right” reasons, just in the “wrong” way. Offspring, or the manner of producing offspring, is the ultimate goal. Because a homosexual cannot achieve this goal by natural means, he or she has to take alternate courses of action. Namely, in vitro fertilization and or adoption. Both of which I see as a trick one would play on oneself, to convince oneself of achieving success.

Pedophilia. At first thought, there are three reasons for these horrible acts upon humanity. Firstly, a chemical imbalance in the brain which wires certain people (adults) to desire sexual relations with children - children who are physically immature and consequently cannot reproduce. Secondly, a faction of the victims of sexual abuse as children are known to repeat the process once they themselves reach adulthood. I don’t see this so much as a chemical imbalance in the brain as I do a serious disturbance of their emotions, and a distortion of what is right and what is wrong. Thirdly, priests, by way of spiritual castration. Sex will always win in this case, in one form or another. What we know about sexually repressed priests scares the shit out of me, because imagine how much we don’t know? And while on the topic of castration:

Guys who lost their nuts in Vietnam (or women who once suffered from endometriosis, victims of cancer, victims of sexual violence). In these cases, reproduction is out of the question. Yet, as is the case with the aforementioned priests, the urges never die. And when the urge is there, but the tools are not, more often than not, people will find another outlet. I won’t go into the list because I’m trying to make this brief. In short, most of the other outlets of sexual urges lead to negative activities. More often than not, violence is the chosen outlet. Sex is violent. When there is no more sex, as in the case with the guy who lost his nuts in Vietnam, the only thing left is violence. No sex = failure.

People who have been married for some time. It’s common knowledge that married people live mainly sexless lives. There are many theories out there as to why this occurs, here’s mine. Once a person is married and has children they raised to adulthood, the mission is over. The sex served its purpose, “so now what?” Marriage is the life after success. Marriage is post-success, so that the rest of one’s life is a failure. With today’s technology and the knowledge we have of our aging bodies and how to keep them in shape, marriage is not necessary. If anything, it’s an outdated institution and a boon upon humanity. It’s a means to an end, but far too soon. To reiterate, marriage is what happens when two people set out to achieve far too soon, and by means that will leave them with nothing but failure for far too long.

Abortion. This is perhaps the “touchiest” subject on the list, and rightly so. Abortion, as it pertains to this blog, is the act of attaining success, only to convert it into a failure. Nothing could make less sense. I know there are many factors which come into play when abortion is an option. And from a totally logical point of view, I can be convinced that there is no other option. Unfortunately, I know this from personal experience. Unbeknownst to my fellow participants, this success-converted-into-failure has left me in a perpetual state of emotional confusion. Why? Because I participated in my own downfall and went against the laws of nature. Yes, pain heals all wounds, but the scars remain. And the scars of failure are never forgotten.

Being productive leads to Nothing…kind of.

To immediately pick up where I left off in my previous post, self-production, through the act of sexual intercourse, would seem to be the only form of productivity worthy of our collective and mutual efforts. As I’m wont to do, I’ll break it down to the core in layman’s terms:

An adult person, man or woman, wakes up in the morning, goes to work to make money to pay the bills. This person will work hard in order to make more money on the side in the hopes of pursuing greater pleasure from life. And how does this person go about this pursuit? The person seeks extravagant vacations; or perhaps he or she is just as thrilled spending every red cent painting the town red; maybe it’s contributing time and that extra money to community service or to their churches. The end result is the same. There are those of you out there who won’t see the correllation, but have patience. I’m going to try to explain.

On a subconscious level, my favorite level, everything we partake of, every ounce of energy spent - let’s say 87.5% of the time - we’re all working towards the same goal: we’re looking to get laid. We work hard for nice things because nice things make us feel good, and nice things impress potential mates. Impressed potential mates are known for removing their underwear under such conditions. Sure, I know there are many other factors involved. I’m here just like you are. I work. I play. I seek. I know the rules as well as you do, but the rules only interest me when I’m working, playing, or seeking. Right now, I’m talking to you!

So why are we endlessly seeking sweaty gyrations with someone who smells nice and is impressed with our collection of nice things? Self-production. Cloning. Children! Yes, I’m well aware that a boatload of you out there are not interested in ever having children…on a conscious level. But you brainiacs are only half as smart as you think yourselves to be. If you were to take out all the science involved in not having children, you’d be no less hornier after a time, and sooner than later, your own little Suri would be pushed from your or your lover’s womb. Nine out of ten times, instinct would take over, and you’d raise that child to be someone. And you’d hope that child would never commit your silly blunders, and for some time, you would be successful. Then one day before your very own eyes, Baby Suri is now no longer a baby. She’s 16, fully blossomed, fully hormonal, and looking for a Tom of her own. Suri would have most of the taboos you’ve tried your best to instill in her, as would Tom the teen. But as is more likely than not, both Sweet Sixteen Suri, and Tom the Teen, will have their own counter-culture ideals to follow, whichever kinds of ideals one would find in the year 2024 or so.

The cycle begins anew. You and I, (the dad and mom), will secretly shed tears, knowing what was involved when Suri our grown daughter and Tom the accountant produced our beautiful granddaughter Francis Bean Latifah. It is only because we’re here to reproduce ourselves that we’re blinded by the chemical reactions that would help us forget the visceral images and grotesquenessisms of Suri and Tom bumping uglies.

You’re all smart enough to know this and long before you ever read this post, yet still this coming Friday or Saturday, or both, I’m going to see you all out there. Those of you who don’t make it out this coming weekend, will surely make it out the next. I’ll see you out there. I’ll be among you. Just like you, I’ll ignore the dangers found in this post because anything beats being idle, especially on a Friday night.

Working for the love of work, or saving to play, or helping out in the church - all that leads to Nothing, because it isn’t sincere. Who am I to tell you such? I’m the man behind the mask. In the words of James Hetfield, The RZA, and countless others:

“I’M YOU!”

In the third and final installment of this series, I will necessarily touch upon the exceptions to the rule. Every rule has them. In this case: homosexuality, pedophilia, old people already married for years, participants of abortion, and guys who lost their nuts in Vietnam.

Stay tuned!

Productivity is almost a lie.

I’m going to try to make this short and sweet, just like me. Productivity is almost a lie. Check it out: all of our lives, we’re pushed to be productive. It’s the only way to be if we’re to consider ourselves successful by any means. Procrastination, laziness, and being idle are considered paths to failure. Presently, quite a few friends online and off have been talking about productivity, ambition, motivation and the like. Some left-brained, some are right-brained, some are readers, some are painters, and some beat the rhythm with their bones.  Allow this brief digression:

What is success?
“Success is wealth, and never being without an abundance of it. Success is a good job, a family of my own, raising a kid to become someone. Success is a nice and expensive car, watch, house, shoe and suit collection. Success is living in a neighborhood surrounded by others that have the same number of variable mutual funds, stocks and bonds, and a rare wine collection. Success is not having to live around those people. Success is education. Success is happiness.”

What is failure?
“Failure is being poor. Poverty is the epitome of failure. Without money, you have nothing. Sure, you can go to church and praise Jesus/Allah/Prince Siddhāttha/etc and live a righteous life, but in the end, you’ziz still a broke crakkka/nigga/spigga/chigga. Thusly, a FAILURE! You can’t read? Fail! Depression is failure.”

Now back on point - why or how is productivity which leads to success “almost” a lie? Well, there is a form of productivity, which in my opinion (the only opinion that matters), that leads to the only kind of success worth achieving. Doing The Do, humping, scrogging, porking, romping, shagging, rutting, making it, homebase, leap-frogging without jumping over, scratchin’, mixin’, making soup, funk wumping, making babies (without actually making the babies), pole fishing, hop scotching, freak dancing, backing it up, pushing it in, splittin’, taxin’, waxin’, maxin’, getting “paid”, laying, monkey loving, rose poking, riding the skin canoe to Tuna Town, slap boxing, back slamming, keeping it really-real, anti-abstinencing it, motion of the ocean - I can go on for days, but I’ll be kind and stop here.

The act of having sex is the be all and the end all of everything. Sex is the only success. I don’t know how else to put it, except to say, if a man were to live a long and full life, a life considered successful by every other means, minus marriage and children, still he’d be considered a failure by most. I say “most” because we do have those pesky, overly PC people amongst us.

Now, what keeps most people from acknowledging this fact comes in the forms of religion, upbringing, and the fact that sex is still a taboo subject - a trifecta of willing ignorance. Without these hang ups in the way, like for many of us who don’t have them, the brief moments of meaningful, sexual pleasure help to erase all of life’s sorrows - meaning every other second of the day when we’re not having sex.

After some reflection, keeping this post short and sweet is not possible.

To be continued…

Nathaniel and David

We were in Ruth’s house, all dressed up with no place to go. The sun was still high in the L.A. sky, and my little brother David was serving himself some orange juice, looking at me with disappointed eyes. The scene was blurred  and sun-washed, the edges as if the camera man had smeared vaseline over the lens. My brother and I were speaking, but I can’t recall what we discussed. All I can remember is feeling as if I did something wrong. Then I woke up.

Yesterday was a strange day. I woke up around 7:30pm with the first symptoms of a spring cold. I had almost forgotten it was my turn to buy lottery tickets for my coworkers, so I jumped out of bed threw on some jeans and drove to the nearest lottery ticket retailer. With ten minutes to spare the tickets were purchased, when I decided I should get something to eat. I wasn’t hungry, but I hadn’t eaten in many hours. Luckily, I had two graphic novels in my car, so I decided to head on up to my cousin’s cafe a few towns over, eat a sandwich, drink some coffee, and read my books. The Regulars were there, and every time we meet, we fall into a deep discussion over the most asinine of topics. For example, James thinks we (humans) are no different from squirrels, and that the human race is made up of subspecies divided into different “races”. I argued that I didn’t believe in the concept of race when our DNA can be traced back to the First Mother. We’re all East African. But I digress….

At the cafe, nothing was going on. The day was muggy and prematurely warm, and I blame the weather for everyone’s seemingly somber mood. I tried to start a discussion, but no one was up for it. I decided to sit, eat my spinach wrap, and delve into my books, but I couldn’t read. The cold that was blossoming within me blurred my vision and didn’t allow me to focus on the words and artwork. James left early and so did I. I made it into my apartment seconds before a brief yet violent rainstorm. I drank around three pots of tea with lemon and honey, and two single serving packs of Theraflu. By 1:30am, I was in bed.

My day was strange because it started with a Six Feet Under-inspired dream, although I haven’t seen the show since the series finale. And at the cafe, everyone had on the same face my little brother had in the dream. However, I’m sure I’ve forgotten no birthdays, nor missed any appointments. Why was everyone so disappointed and somber as “David”? Why do I feel as if it was all directed at me?

I think I’m going through one of my seasonal paranoid periods, or my fever has me in a delusional state as Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov once suffered.

On yet another sleepless night before work…

…he had experienced something like an Imperative Reaction. His mind was a flutter, a shattered mirror, wrapped around itself like a Coil. His only respite came in the form of a dream, yet all he could remember was crossing a river, walking on water, carrying a Skinny Puppy. Sleepy, tired, yet restless, he decided to rise and burn the Midnight Oil. Onto the damned computer, he logged on and envisioned an Aghast View. He imagined the word H Y P N O S K U L L over and over in his head. So he rose to his knees, faced the ceiling and recited in prayer, “Ah Cama Sotz!” seeking relief, escape - an escape from his synapses…a Synapscape! On This Morn’ Omina he promised himself something different. He forced upon himself another dream, where he’s standing atop Xingu Hill. Here, he could find a respite from the world’s toils. Here, he could find rest. And here is where he came upon a figure standing atop Xingu Hill in front of a small church, a Ministry of the damned.

The figure invited the man inside. So in he walked. And what did he find in there? Nirvana. Jocelyn Pook was there, playing the violin, her eyes never breaking contact with his. For reasons unknown, it hurt to look into her eyes, but he couldn’t turn away. When her performance was done, she walked up to him, leaned in closely, and whispered into his ear, “I’m the white rabbit, and this is My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult.” She then introduced him to Lord Quasimoto, half man, half animal with a high pitched voice. He squeaked, “Nigga, this is your new birthday. On this 33rd day of November Novelet,…” He could hear the Lord no more. He wasn’t in the church anymore. He wasn’t standing atop the hill. When he came to, he was sitting at his computer, fantasizing the most ridiculous of dreams, all the while documenting them in a blog of little importance, and of even less relevence. Insomnia is a bitch.

I feel like such a Tool!

Missed Connections: Online Dating.

Posted by anonymous:

“I decided to take the plunge at the end of last year and join match.com. I don’t know what anyone else’s experience with this site has been, I thought it would be an interesting way to meet members of the opposite sex, since the bar scene just wasn’t doing it for me. I am an attractive, self aware, kind, successful individual, and I do meet men when I go out, but not ones that share interests or hobbies. It often proves difficult to start something with someone you have nothing in common with. This is where match came into the picture.

I posted my profile, the fact that I’d like to meet someone with similar interests, etc. And I did get great responses from people. One of those people, I went out on a date with, and I’ve been seeing him since the end of Jan. It has turned into a physical relationship and the physical chemistry is great, as is the mental chemistry. We speak a lot over the phone when we can’t see each other; he opens up to me about things in his life, and I tell him about things in my life. It seemed like everything was going great (and still are…I think), so I decided to ask him where he thought things were going.

His response was, “I don’t know, where do you think this is going?” And the only way I could respond was, “I don’t know either, I don’t want to rush into things because it could ruin it. I’m not the type of girl looking to get married next week, and I’m not the type of girl that sleeps around.” Which is completely true. I see people running around from relationship to relationship, just to have someone to call their bf or gf, or to find Mr/Ms Right Now, and that’s not me. But that left more questions for me.

So I mustered up the courage and asked if he was seeing other people or if he was pursuing others. (I think when you’re having a physical relationship with someone it’s great to be open and honest, make sure everyone’s on the same page.) He said no. Though, the next thing he said totally baffled me. “But if you met someone and wanted to see them, I would expect that you would tell me and be open with me, and I with you.” Is this normal if you’re seeing someone that you like to say something like that? I mean, sure, being open and honest is a must, but if you’re serious about someone, isn’t pursuing someone else not a part of the equation any longer? Or is it too soon in my interaction with Mr. X to assume such a thing since he isn’t my “bf”?

I have never had a physical relationship with someone I have met online before. Honestly, it has been a while since I have had a physical relationship with anyone. Maybe I am trying to sabotage this interaction by thinking about things too much, and I should just let things run their course?

I guess The thing that sticks out in my mind, and part of the reason I’m ranting/raving here in missed connections is that he still has his match account, where as mine has been inactive for quite some time. I tend to wonder what he uses it for, if he checks it because he paid for it, if he’s still looking, or if I’m just being insecure in myself etc?

I also tend to wonder if people are missing their connections with other’s because of sites like match.com? Is the fact that there is so much choice at our fingertips so alluring that you can’t be with one person and be happy? That there has to be constant search for more?

I am really confused about online dating, or maybe about dating in general. What the goals are, why people do it, and I would love to have a email convo with someone about this. Feel free to write me if you have any experience with this whole online genre of dating.

Thanks for taking the time to read my rant about missed connections.”

My reply:

I don’t know if this will help, but this is the way I see it:

I honestly believe that “online” people are not your average, every-day person. Not yet, anyway. Times are changing rather quickly, and one day, this email will be obsolete. Everyone will be like “us”.

No matter how emotional people like you and I might be, I still see us primarily as “thinkers”. Why? Because of the years we’ve spent online. It has changed us, molded us into who we are today, and who’ll we’ll be tomorrow.

We know More, therefore, we want More. For years we’ve been sharing what is perhaps the most important part of ourselves - our minds! We wouldn’t continue to do this if we didn’t mutually and exclusively find pleasure in this.

As for relationships, I doubt any of “us” will ever be content with what’s considered The Norm. We do what we know how to do to get what we want: we go online. Mutual interests and hobbies aren’t enough. And we all know how the dynamic of an online relationship changes once we meet, once the physical comes into play. For the most part, it’s still unchartered territory.

The problem we have with the “missed connection” is pulling both “worlds” in sync. And because times are changing at the pace it is, it’s not a problem we’ll have for too long. You can take that to the bank.

We’ll solve this long before you can imagine.

To the reader:
What are your thoughts?

Power and Weakness

I find pleasure, and a definate sense of power from the following:

My introverted nature and intuition provide me with the liberty of not ever having the need of another being’s approval.  I’m very comfortable in my own skin.  I’ve met thousands of people who cannot honestly say the same.  If there is a Hell, it is other people. 

Upon meeting most people, I can see the worst in them.  After that, there is very little else I wish to know.

The counterbalance to my “power” is the “weakness” of Feeling.  However unsuccessful I may be, I’m working on it.

On the flipside of this coin of mine, in spite of the feelings I have for other people, I have always felt it my responsibility to protect them.  Every job I’ve had in my life, (minus two jobs), have been in the fields of protecting people.

My current job, where I plan to stay until the end of my days, dictates that I should give my life in return for another person’s life at any time.  I don’t mind this fact, and don’t have a problem with it.  In the event that my time has come, the people most important to me will be well off.

I enjoy participating and deriving “power” from local political upheavals in the forms of office politics, union dealings, and “revolutions” within associations where I’m all too willing to help to convince people to join my cause.  It is never for me to gain the upper hand, or a position of power, as it is for the very people I wish to convince.

Regardless of my “sins”, I believe I have lived a life worthy of displaying as an example to the younger members of my family who look up to me.  Before learning about MBTI, I have always felt the same way. 

It is only now that I have an acroynym comprised of “dichotomies” to better explain the “power” of my personality.

I am INFJ.