The Fucking Truth

Having is a disease.  Not literally having, but more like wanting.  The wanting of things and/or experiences that will somehow magically transform your life into a happy one.

It’s all a load of bullshit.

The system preaches these things, shoves them in our face and demands that if we’re not having then we’re not happy.  And we buy into it, because it looks so awesome.  If only I…

There’s a better approach.  Simple to attain, but not necessarily easy.  It’s simply reframing your view and seeing the truth.  If having something equals happiness, then not having it equals unhappiness, right?  Is that the math we agree upon?  Good.  Now let’s fuck it up and find the truth.

Life doesn’t happen in black and white.  There’s no binary yes or no going on (unless you’re talking about sex, but that’s a different subject).  Everything is grey.  We put meaning on meaningless things and events.  The meaning translates to emotions.  Then the emotions make it real.

What’s really going on are three separate, mutually exclusive operations.

• Events.  These can be anything from thoughts to actual taking-place-in-the-real-world-now events.  By themselves, they really don’t mean anything.  They just are.  2 + 2 = 4.  The apple is red.  Some asshole just cut me off.  I’d fuck her.  Etc…  Facts, if you will.
• Meanings.  The translation of events, in our own fucked up, totally biased way.  Meanings are 100% unique across individuals.  Two people witnessing the same event will place completely different meanings on that event.  It can even be the same thought.  Unlike a calculator that will always translate 2 + 2 to 4, we can translate it to be anything.  In my world it’s 34783.99999999999, that’s how fucked up I am.
• Emotions.  This is the result of the meanings.  We feel happy, sad, indifferent, scared, etc.  Then, we feed these emotions back into the pipeline and put meaning on the emotions, which could lead to behavior (and usually does).

I imagine in the wild, this system serves us well.  A lion pops out of nowhere, you translate that to “danger,” then you feel scared and either run away or get ready to fight.  But in our cushiony, self imposed comfort life, not having a Ferrari, or hell, even being denied a free scoop of sprinkles on your ice cream cone, can lead to all sorts of ridiculous, ineffective, nonsensical emotions that we feed off of and drive ourselves insane.

Fuck that.  It’s much better to see it for what it is.  Having a Ferrari doesn’t equal happiness, just as not having one doesn’t equal unhappiness.  It’s time to realize the truth:  that you already have everything you need.  Right now.  This instance.  Everything you need in life to be happy, fulfilled, whatever, you’ve already got.  Even if you’re covered in shit, pissing yourself in the streets, living in a cardboard box drunk ass piece of shit, you need nothing more than an overhaul in thinking to be happy.

And that’s the fucking truth.

Mommy Wives II – Managing The Drama

Raymond, from Everybody Loves Raymond, is the poster child for the quivering pussy boy-man that has trapped a woman into being is mommy wife.  He truly fears his wife, just like he does his mother.  If she isn’t in the mood for sex, he gets no sex.  If she is upset with him because of something he said or did, he spends the whole show trying to figure out a way to get her out of her mood.  When he does something that might be considered bad, he tries to hide it from her.  He is a slave to her whims, and you can literally see the anger, frustration, and pure hate she feels towards him for being that way.

Watch a few episodes and watch how Raymond becomes a mouth breather whenever his wife is in one of her moods.

So the question now is, why would a woman ever marry, or even have a second date, with a guy she knows is a wimp and will allow her to walk all over him?  I have two answers: she has no choice because all of the available men she has encountered are this way and/or she thinks she can change him into the man she really wants to be with.

She can’t win either way.  If she wants to have sex, she’s going to have to choose wimpy guys most of the time because that’s what’s available.  And if she likes the guy in every way except he’s a pussy, then well, maybe she can shape him into the man she can drool over; an impossible task.  No woman can turn a man into a man, and no man can turn a woman into a woman.

Thad doesn’t understand women.  He doesn’t get why all of his attempts to make his wife happy mostly fail.  He does this and that for her, yet she still gets angry.  He doesn’t get why his covert contract, the one where he does “nice” things for his wife and gives her what she wants all the time and in return she promises to stay happy all the time, isn’t reciprocated.

There’s nothing to understand though.  There’s nothing to figure out.  Constantly trying to manage how a woman feels is a losing battle.  Constantly trying to figure out the formula for keeping her happy is like trying to trip an elephant with your wiener.  Women are going to have their emotional highs and lows, and as long as you’re riding along with them attempting to fix them, your wiener is going to get trampled.

And by you, I mean us, all men who seem to live to serve women.

Mommy Wives I – The Pussy Within

Thad, a hypothetically typical wussy boy with an extremely effeminate name, likes to make jokes about how his wife doesn’t allow him to watch football on Sundays, even though he loves football.  He laughs after he makes such statements, as if it’s somehow “cool” that he allows his wife to tell him what he can and cannot do.  He also quips on Fridays that he has no idea what’s in store for him over the weekend, until he “checks with the boss.”  Effectively, he’s not allowed to make the plans, deferring that responsibility to his wife.

Thad has got himself a mommy wife, a woman that serves as both a man’s (a grown ass man mind you) mother and fuck partner.  In a nutshell, a mommy that he can also fuck.

Women don’t consciously play into this role, but fuck, someone has to lead the relationship, so they have to step up to the plate or else it turns into a bunch of retards trying to hump a door knob.  Imagine an endless dialog of:

• Person 1:  ”What do you want to do tonight?”
• Person 2:  ”I don’t know, what do you want to do?”
• Person 1:  ”I don’t care, whatever you do.”
• Person 2:  ”Well, what do you want to do?”

And on, and on, and on.  If no one takes the leader role, then this is their fate.

It’s disgusting to see a man forcing a woman into this role, because it’s not their role to take on.  We (men) have been raised, within the last half century or so, to tip toe around women’s emotions.  In other words, AVOID MAKING THEM UPSET IN ANY WAY.  I learned from my dad and the women who pretty much raised me, in school, family, and neighborhood.  We’ve come to fear an upset woman, and when we stumble upon one, or say or do something “stupid” that sets her off, well, then we have to fix it (or just run the fuck way, apologizing profusely with our tail tucked between our legs protecting our imaginary balls).

Thad has learned the best way to avoid saying or doing anything “stupid” is to not say or do anything at all.  That way he avoids the whole upset woman conundrum that most wussy boys fear being a part of.  He can sit back, suck his thumb, let his wife run the relationship, while he turns on autopilot, settles for whatever she gives him, and has every decision regarding his daily, weekly, monthly, yearly life made by his fuckable mommy.  He removes his balls and spine, the keys to his masculinity, and hands them over to her.

But she doesn’t want them.

The ironic thing of this whole situation is that the woman becomes more resentful of the role she’s having to take on.  Early in the relationship, it’s no big deal (mostly), but as it progresses, she’ll become more and more bitter.  But she’ll resist any attempt the man makes at taking back his balls and spine.  Why?  Because it is her nature to.  It is her way of testing his fortitude, his manliness, his leadership abilities, his confidence.  It is the man’s responsibility to be the rock solid leader of the relationship, and allow the woman to decide if she wants to follow or not.  It’s not about control, it’s about exercising the natural dominant-submissive dynamic.

Thad, in this extremely realistic hypothetical, has taken on the submissive role and forced his wife into the dominant role.  This may work in some relationships, if the man is naturally submissive and the woman is naturally dominant.  But this creates friction in most relationships, and leaves poor Thad scratching his head wondering what he did “wrong.”  When his wife is in a good mood and happy, Thad is equally happy and content.  When his wife is pissed, sad, or angry, Thad gets anxious, and his mind starts churning to discover a way to get her back to normal (but it’s not really about getting her back to even, it’s about quelling his own anxiety).

Discovery Of The Truth

Don’t spend your life living in a fantasy.  It’s the equivalent of burying your head in the sand and hoping for the best.  That’s been my unwritten unspoken motto for pretty much my whole life.  Ignore the problems and hope they go away.

Except they don’t go away.

They get worse.

And you spend all your time trying to manage the anxiety you feel.

My new motto is becoming turn and face whatever it is head on.  Essentially, grow some balls and be a man.  It’s scary, and a lot of times I really don’t want to, because it would be so much easier to cower in fear and hope for the best.  But that strategy is like bending over and getting fucked in the ass by whoever comes along and feels like.

Learning the truth sucks sometimes, but it’s the only path forward.  The fantasy bubble is tethered to wherever you’re at right now.  The truth pops the bubble and forces you to take the fall.  Gay analogy, I know, but it’s the truth.

You’re never going to be a rock star, at least not in the classical sense.

You’re never going to become a billionaire, and probably never a millionaire.

You’re never going to be 25 again and be able to put your body through alcohol punishment in a quest for the ultimate party.  Those days are gone.  Now, there’s greater consequences to engaging in that short term gratification.

You’re never going to find THE answer or THAT place where you can settle in and live comfortably ever after, without a worry in the world.  Complexity is always going to be present and you’d better be prepared to face it, even if you don’t want to (especially when you don’t want to).

You’re alone, ultimately.  No one can “complete” you or “make” you happy.  That’s your responsibility.

You’ll never reach the stars, so aim for the low lying clouds.  If you hit them, then you can always go a little higher.

You’ll never get the outcome you want or expect, so detach yourself from it as much as possible.  Not for avoiding disappointment/hurt/frustration/etc, that’s inevitable, but for understanding that whatever it is you want/expect cannot ever validate you in the long run.

You’re ordinary, just like everyone else.  Tyler Durden was right, you’re not special.  You’re unique in many ways, but you’re going to die just like everything else on this planet that lives.