gendanken Good then my plan is working. I want you to think of me as both stupid and easy. One must try different baits before the right one is found for a particular fish species. Exactly. I gave it and I can take it back. But your disillusionment with me is a disillusionment with yourself. True but it is also true that one must build a caricature in order to force the other to prove that he/she isn’t one. I create the noise and observe the reactions to it. Don’t take the noise as what defines me, it is merely my tool. Good. But what do you care about then? Or is that too close to the bone? Interesting that despite your disinterest you still know so much about me when I know nothing except what I see between the text lines. Would it surprise you to find out that all these morons that feign indifference are asking questions behind the curtains about me and who I 'really' am? Actions always speak clearer and louder than any word. I’m fascinating dear and charismatic as well. Even when I’m hated people can’t stop listening to what I have to say and be amazed by how I say it. Still relying on clever put-downs to display your uniqueness and depth, huh? I use the common ones: Stupid, retard, idiot, moron, etc. They’re to the point and precise. Nope. According to me you’re a clever vixen putting on a face to hide her real one. According to me you’re using language to mask your motives and real desires. According to me you’re so afraid of being seen naked by the throng of imbeciles you despise that you use ambiguous and subtle strategies to test the waters first before you uncover yourself, like you so desperately want to. So far you’ve found nobody worthy of your nakedness and so you’ve grown even more misanthropic and angry with men and the world of men and you’ve become angry with yourself for even needing this exposure and vulnerability. The Wanderer uses muscle to keep away idiots and imbeciles with intimidation. It’s my way of keeping myself protected from annoyance. The problem here is that the very things that keep the neighbors away can keep your bothers and sisters away, as well. Sometimes there is one playing Monopoly that, like you, is disgusted with the game and looks at you with the same severity. How will you distinguish him/her? You will. You get slapped around long enough and you want someone there to grab onto and fight back with. It’s not only a matter of strength or a need to share ones defeats and ease ones wounds, it’s also the sharing of victories and the feeling of bloodlust or just pure lust. It’s easy to accept ones strengths and talents, it’s ones insecurities and needs that are hard to swallow and reveal. I’m a control junky. In this I mirror my kind. Battles are better appreciated in hindsight. Once you’re in their midst the horror, fear and pain overwhelms any appreciation. That’s why man lives life either looking forward in hope or looking backwards with nostalgia while the present passes by. It’s this appreciation of the present that I’m looking for. It’s not the experience you envy but the surviving of the experience. Not many do. We are all the sum of our pasts. My hands are full of scars, tattoos, bruises and mementos of my living. You can escape reality only for so long before it’s there again. That’s what these idiots don’t know, their fantasy worlds and distracting entertainments are only prolonging their hurt not relieving it. They’re like drugged-up amputees that deny the loss of a limb because they can’t feel the pain under all the medication. So they look upwards to the ceiling so that their eyes won’t look down to that missing member. Then they forget about it until one day they reach for something and realize they can’t grab it. That’s when the real hurting begins. And I laugh. That’s why I’m looking for tribe members to escape into the wilds with. A decade or two of solitude is tolerable, you have yet to experience one, but in time you have so much inner wealth that you want to share it, to give of yourself; you have so much strength that you want to feel vulnerable and dependant again because it doesn’t scare you anymore; you have so much beauty that you want to expose it and have someone else enjoy it for a change. Ah and here is the hardest thing of all. I can only speak from personal experience. Early on I was so disappointed and disillusioned with the world and my own species that death seemed like a good alternative or a total isolation from it where I could enjoy the simplicity of a good life without having to deal with the expectations and superficial eyes of idiots. I opted for the second choice since life held so much wonderment for me and there was so much I wanted to know and experience. But to escape into isolation when there are no unclaimed frontiers, ironically, one must first play the game and submit to conformity. This is where my bitterness and the source of my vengeance upon Bob comes from. So like Dantes I scrape away at the walls of my Chateau D’If and long for my escape and rebirth. But the world must be shared or it is not fully understood. The rapture of living can only be felt with another or others that see and feel what you do. I had given up on finding any and the ones I’ve found have always been too far to dig tunnels between our cells and plan our escape together. But recently I’ve heard a tapping on my wall from the cell next door. A quiet unsure tapping that gives me hope once more. All I need to do now is use this spoon to dig my way to the other. Wish me luck. No mistakes, no assumption, only a testing and analyzing of reaction. The odd thing is that I started reading in my late twenties and discovered these 'soul-mates' when I was around 30. I was, up until then, too busy trying to swim while wanting to sink. Imagine my surprise to discover others that shared my mind,my dismay and my visions. Imagine my surprise to realize that it wasn’t I that was weird and sick but this fucking world. That's when I became proud and arrogant. Even when you flatter you insult. It’s your way of maintaining deniability. What you are I haven’t decided on yet. I am more careful with my conclusions than you may think. Don’t mistake my means for my mind. Too much of anything can get tedious. Sometimes I tire of myself. They are beautiful. All their frantic flapping and flying around prevents the appreciation of their full beauty that becomes evident only when they sit still and just breath and just expose themselves to scrutiny and judgment and risk it all just to be seen for a while as they are. Some fungi are a product of cleanliness and not filth. What I meant was that I rarely make good first impressions but given time people become drawn to me. They may not understand what it is intellectually but intuitively they perceive something about me that attracts them even when they attempt to remain aloof and distant. They attack my words and then quote them and read them to their friends. It’s happened so often that I now sit and wait expecting it as inevitable. You need not show me, I have knowledge of what is genuine and what memorization or what I call regurgitation. It’s not even something you can precisely define. It’s an intuitive feeling that the other doesn’t fully comprehend what he’s saying or why and that the other is trying to cloud meanings to appear meaningful. What was it that Friedrich said about wisdom and clarity? Those that have it display clarity and attempt to remain simple so that they are understood, those that don’t mask it behind complicated ideas and ambiguous verbal pretense because insinuation and innuendo is how they maintain the illusion of intelligence and comprehension. Or words to that affect. A sword in the hands of the untested seems clumsy and heavy. The expert uses it with a finesse and precision that it appears effortless and flowing. It looks natural and not forced. The expert and experienced uses tools with efficiency and precision, the clumsy dolt swings away in multiple directions hoping he’ll land a good one or that the spectators will be intimidated by his wild swings and not challenge him to a duel.
Well, don't mistake me... I'm not talking about my desire to swoop down and rescue the bent old lady from her suffering. Even she would have realized the comedy of that, I think. What I'm talking about is the way that one day you can open your eyes, however briefly, and see that an action you took long ago and blindly has mangled your life irretrievably, and that you might as well just close your eyes again. Eh... I'm getting obsolete here. The conversation has swung on without me to become an even more searing indictment of popular culture.
But not of a discussion. Metaphorically a swordfight and a discussion are nearly opposites, even according to Wanderer. In any case, appealing to the romance of martial skill is becoming a tiresome and overused piece of imagery in these fora. Swordfighting is not mystical and hardly deserves to be the benchmark for skill in all things. See what the schlager teacher teaches you... "You got to vack the uzzer guy before he vacks you. Everysing else is schtoopid posing." Guthrie! Don't let other people shape your mind like that. You should know better.
Hhehe, your right. and thats always my trouble. If you've read any Iain M banks, i'm more like the zetetic elench. Besides, I am a swordfighter. Often it comes down to runnnig at your opponent and whacking them with part of your body before they move out the way, giving you space and time to actually get them with your weapon. Little finesse involved.
Bloody hell you two, get a room. guthrie: "Interesting" is the understatement of the day: This is completely fucking hilarious.
Quote:Tell me what else there is other than the cheap ploys of those pompous ~romantics~ that became farmers so they could write about it when they came back home to their luxuries. Pompous or not at least they have choices. Luxury like ownership is a privilege.
Xev: That ain't strokin', that's just a pointer. For the rest of it... well... I'm tired of hearing the crap (s)wordplay metaphor. Seems like I hear it almost as much as Goshdarn Ockham's Razor these days. EDIT: Changed my citation
Xev: Laughing like that is for fountainboys. Lucysnow: Yeah but they were still assholes. Wanderer: I think neither. Its easy for me to deal with you is what I said and it has something to do with immunity. Can't say I'm perfectly immune (remember the hermaphrodite, yes?), but I have a theory on attraction and why humans cling to each other. Could be bullshit. Don't know. The happy thinker has something the angry, diseased one lacks and the only word that comes close to what it is, is "color". I'm a happy one...between moods of course. I'm also one of those manic authors that can't keep the noise down- a wannabe. Language. Look around, that's all you'll find in here. But tell me, why do you keep thinking I only speak of the forums? Nope, equal opportunity misanthropy. But you're right though, men are far more interesting and dynamic even in their predictability. This both angers and amuses me. Oh? "I freely urge others to ignore me. Inconspicuous observation is clearer, being under-estimated gives me an advantage and I never was one for being the center of attention anyways" The problem here, again, is in you insisting for some reason that I'm only talking about the forums but if you'd like to, lets. From now on lets only speak of the forums then. In their lack of strategies, caricatures and silly mindgames with my 'kind'. I recognize something of my 'kind' in you, I did from the beginning. Reading you struck me almost in the way Nietzche appealed to me when I found him but......not quite, yet fresh compared to the usual. But then you began to get repetive...ugly...bulky. And here's those metaphors you like so much- instead of a nightengale you became something like a bat, and the bat in me grew ashamed it could hear you where all other mammals could not. Understand? Don't you realize I've been reading you from the beginning? I'm.Not.Disinterested. I was interested from the very beginning but no longer. Who the fuck is feigning interest? What I know about you is only what you gave me, and what became of it was inevitable. Synopsis: there's a fresh face named Wanderer, wonderful threads, wonderful insight (Hypersesitivity was a personal favorite), clarity, though lacking, still clear. All this for some time until somwhere in an Amercian, Bob or a Spookz thread I lost you, lost interest. Or you lost me. No matter- but the idea of you changed and you did it.You're so called "charm" (ha) I've only seen in this thread. And you don't even see there's someone looking back on you with the same "severity". I know why. Nope. And you're inability to see where it came from and why is your folly. Why do you do that? Fish? Like a piranha in the dirty bowl with the goldfish? Interesting. Yes, a piranha swimming in goldfish. NO!- a goldfish.....yes, you and your clever metaphors. Indeed. Yet even a taste, a small taste of heroism is denied to the modern mind. Fucking sucks, but one gets used to it. Then don't hold mine against me. You do. If you don't lie to yourself- and I don't know just yet if you don't- at least don't lie to me. What you just said applies to Bobs and Bibbettes because their fantasies are selfless and hollow, and this is precicely why they're fanstasies. My reality is so selfish and far more human than saints claim to be- its like a gift to both me and humanity and they'll never see it. None of this is forgettable. Its as if I always assumed I was an amputee until all on my own I tried running and found 2 healthy legs that will never break. It feels like 4 sometimes. Something like that. This is what makes you odd to me. The fact, the very fact that someone like you can *still* say something as beautifully true as that is odd to me. This is the honesty I look for and its strange seeing it on you- which seems mildly dangerous if not phony. You wanting to share all of that supposed wealth- what is that? Makes you sound like your other little metaphor- a greek bearing gifts, no? It seems self defeating letting you in anywhere. Giving one's self to someone like you, or what you mask yourself in, is some word I can't grab at the moment. Follow? Amen Why 'only'? I've felt it alone- many times. Still do. This rapture only enhances its pleasures when one shares it. Period. No need. I don't believe in it but you're free to make you some if you'd like. I only wonder if that 'tapping' will stop and go hide itself the closer you come. Ha. Understood. Perfectly understood. Your only error lies in thinking there are such things as soul mates. Pause. Riiight. Oh no no no........don't know about any of them but at least with me you have it reversed. Your first impressions were delicious. Spookology 101. Burn that poodle. You just described Bigbluehead. Take a bow, Tealnoggin. We salute you. *Edit: Fuck.Spelling.And.Keyboards.
gendanken Tell me all about it. I'm listening. Does it have to do with clinging to what you find lacking in yourself or to what is so abundant in yourself? Sometimes writing just to clear ones mind and make space for new thoughts is enough. No one need read it. I’ve written things I would only show to a chosen few because they are so personal and honest. I write for myself and those I love and trust and not the world. The world can kiss my ass. It is getting difficult to remain joyful on this joyless earth. The only way towards any prolonged happiness seems to be distraction from life itself or inebriation through medication that keeps one apathetic and lethargic or isolation. But I’m convinced that there may be another way. If one creates the right intimate environment around ones self and places walls around Springsteen’s ‘Secret Gardens’. Sometimes I make these elaborate plans about returning to Greece and building a private sanctuary there, where I can grow my own food, keep my own domesticated animals and live closer to the earth with few of the ‘modern’ luxuries. Where no frontiers exist one must today close off a piece of the earth and claim it as his own. But the solitude can be both attractive and frightening. One wants to pass through life and at least once share what one perceives and values and respects so as to feel like his life had some meaning beyond hedonism. One wants to show what one became and why and one becomes so overflowing with wonderment and joy and love that he does not want to squander it away to the undeserving or to just keep it for oneself like a miser. This Forum is all we have. My experiences of you begin and end here. But this Forum is also an extension of the ‘real’ world and can serve as a microcosm. I can only relate to you through the context of this Forum. It is our common point of reference because our personal experiences and circumstances may have taken us down different paths even if we may have arrived to similar destinations because of our common ancestry and spiritual drives and characteristics. Muscle and intimidation in the empirical superficial world where size matters, indifference and inconspicuousness in the realm of thought and intellectualism; one needs both to keep different types of moron away and afraid. I play the game, not because I want to but because I have to and I’ve grown to enjoy it. I’ve always been fascinated with behaviourism. It started with a childhood interest in ants and bees, and then it turned to the study of mammals and ‘higher’ life forms that has concluded with a desire to comprehend human kind and in the process understand self so that more self-control can be achieved and personal potential can be reached. Very little of this ‘study’ has been through books. All of it has been based on personal observations and analysis with guiding help, once in awhile, by others that have lived before me and focused on the same subjects. I have no studies or scientific evidence to offer but only personal viewpoints and attestations. But what’s the value of statistics if they prevent effort and personal insight? It is better to have an incomplete or even an erroneous opinion that is ones own than to have one primarily based on other people’s observations and efforts. The first demands a spherical and in depth comprehension of the subject and a keen awareness of detail, the second only requires an average intellect and a good memory. But there is no contradiction here just different methods of remaining discreet. I wasn’t only talking about the Forum. I understand completely. Can you understand how it is a balancing act between saying what you want to say and not exposing too much of yourself to ridicule and misunderstanding? I’m repetitive because I remain on the same themes and I’m focused on the same subjects. All of them, except for some glimpses, are as far away from my deeper self as possible so that my pure self isn’t soiled by the dirt of the filthy. Now it is you assuming that I did not know any of this. I knew that you were watching, I just didn’t know if you approved. I actually know that many more watch in silence and find a relation to my words. But my ‘American’ ‘What about Bob?’ and ‘In memory of Spookz’ threads were my vengeance upon imbeciles and their total inability to grasp nuance. I had to become vulgar and stoop to their level to get it through those thick skulls of theirs. It was an act of venting, a momentary submission to decadence. I wanted to show them my disdain for them and raise that mirror in front of their faces and show them what they’ve become to me and how I see them as. All those ‘talkers’ of love and compassion that know neither really and disguise selfishness, stupidity, self-hatred and fear with masks of pretentiousness, selflessness and altruism. How easy one loves that does not know love and talks of romance and monogamy when neither can be appreciated. How easy one pretends interest and understanding and neither is there. How easy compassion and justice is exuded by those that can grasp neither. How easy one uses loyalty, responsibility, devotion when the burden is never fully felt. How easy one speaks of honour, dignity, freedom and nobility when the price for them all is so misunderstood. How easy it is to be a superficial idiot and then callously and casually justify error that is due to an inability to perceive the totality of it all. Did you notice how popular these vulgar threads became though? Typical. I once got expelled from a Forum [the one I was in before this one] for just posting the ‘What about Bob?’ thread. It got the herd so riled up, as it did here, that I was deemed too disruptive or perhaps too ‘dangerous’ {Xev could attest to this} , even though it mentions nobody specifically and uses no profanity or vulgarity. They called me a 'Troll', which at the time was a term I was not familiar with, so that they didn’t have to deal with my observations. I recently saw a ’60 Minutes’ piece where the phenomenon of Evangelicals in the US is described. It appears these morons, of the Christian variety, believe in something called ‘The Rapture’ in which Jesus comes down and whisks them away from Earth, those ‘true believers, leaving behind all us infidels and the damned. The amount of people believing in this crap? 70 million strong amongst whom are CEO’s doctors, scientists and all other sorts of imbeciles. This in the US, the center of the western world and a supposed secular nation whose president openly proclaims his salvation through Jesus. Then these Forum idiots have the balls and the audacity to call me on my ‘generalizations’ and caricaturing of America. I didn’t go far enough in my disdain, I think. These dolts still cling to their ‘diversity’ myth and imagined uniqueness to escape their own inanity. Meanwhile 1/3 of their tribe does not even participate in the political process and is seeped in apathy and lethargy and the other 2/3 follow carefully scripted roads of thought. I just love watching the herd stampede in panic because they leave behind their weakest members to be picked-off and devoured with ease. It’s a fascinating glimpser into human nature. I never take myself too seriously and you trying to figure me out is how I judge your value from a distance. I use metaphor to become precise and still maintain distance and indirectness. I use it to confuse the prattle and expose myself to my own kind cautiously. Or it burns you inside in silence often coming out in bursts of anger. I hold nothing against you except.... my ear. I’m not frowning down on you I’m smelling the air which raises my nose up high. Why would I lie to someone that can see right through me? I am ashamed of nothing and freely show what I am to those that can appreciate it. It is precisely that reality I want you to talk to me about beyond the posturing and ambiguity. Then you are part of the lucky few. I say luck because genes have a part in this as does the chance of environment. All my essays are personal but I would not admit it to anyone. My ‘honesty’ is not meant for public Forums where idiots roam to belittle and vent their insecurities upon the healthy. “Phoney”? You’ve been surrounded by dirt and filth for too long and now you see something gleaming bright in it and you can’t believe your eyes...You doubt them. My honesty has hurt me so much in the past, my open heart has been bruised so many times that I’ve learned to hide it now behind allegory and symbolism, not wanting to give it up completely and shut it tight. It is this time of solitude that has filled me with wealth and the need to give of it. Does it surprise you to find someone noble that is not yet dead or hiding? Do you think I’ve plagiarized my essays and only pretended my mind? They have been the product of great suffering and personal struggle. I’ve earned my words. Your scepticism flatters me. Terrifying?! But the need to open the gates is still there despite the risks. Self-exposure is full of anxieties and fear and yet the drive pushes us on. Perhaps I am a scam artist and a fake. Let time decide for you. Scepticism is a sign of mental health. Like I said, I grow on people and then eventually they realize that I’ve been the real thing but by then I’ve often wandered off again into another group of bewildered automatons looking once more, searching again for that single one amongst them. Free-spirits rarely recognize each other, they’re too busy trying to mask themselves or too distracted to notice. What I meant to say. That’s why I need luck. As I’ve grown older I’ve realized that chance has a lot to do with where one winds up. Disappointment has been a companion of mine. I’ve learned to expect him now. But I still hope and wait and scrape away at the walls with my spoon expecting to hear the other scraping the walls in my direction as well, for a change. It’s hard connecting to people; so many practical issues, so many emotional ones, so much risk and a necessity for total vulnerability that scares us. I’m hoping this other will take a chance, as I am doing. It all depends on what is meant by ‘soul mates’. Do I believe two people can complete each other and be compatible? Yes. Do I believe two people can be completely alike? No. Now it’s you thinking I’m only referring to this Forum. I actually meant in real everyday life. Mind takes time to be revealed, body is there at once. Here in the Forum the reverse is true and so my ‘first impression’ is always good and perhaps the second impression is the bad one. I think we are beginning to understand each other better. Posers are all about us. Filtering out the noise to hear the melody requires focus and distinctive tastes.
Wanderer/Gendanken: I'll make this brief, as I've fallen behind in this discussion and it's starting to look like a wall to me. I've reread this thread in order to get my context back and I saw a thing or two which I hadn't noticed before. Way back on page 3, gendy mentioned the cards that Wanderer plays... a legitimate comment. At times Wanderer reminds me of a character from an old cartoon who started every conversation with a trifling attempt on the other person's life... but this isn't a helpful example. So, I'll try to make myself clear. Wanderer often attempts to upset or jar his counterpart with quick changes of context, like so: Weak insult -> discussion of desire -> dismissal of counterpart -> oblique encouragement -> generalization. The divisions that he creates so strongly in his discourse make the unity of his writing components more obvious... hence, cards. He places them on the table, a large collection of words nonetheless representing an atomic point and change of direction. His writing style brings out the impression, but everyone writes this way more or less. And whoever else is reading this, EVERYONE MEANS YOU. Your discourse consists largely of these unitary supported assertions - cards - that come prepackaged our of your head and need only minimal changes to suit the discussion. So if you can see Wanderer's cards, and you can't see your own, look harder. They're there. Gendy: I'm not sure if that's what you meant. If not... too bad. Heh.
There you are again more interested in the packaging than the contents, more focused on words than meanings, more aware of style and 'what's' rather than 'why's'. Words denote motives and/or drives and purposes. When you look at a painting do you remain transfixed on brush strokes and coloration schemes and painting style or do you sit back and attempt to percieve the picture, the sensation and the intended message? All language is an art form, even when it is practiced by an illiterate, in that it uses symbols to represent and to create emotive and/or abstract personal perceptions. My 'cards', as you put it, were always plain to see I keep them exposed even while I'm playing poker. But you can see the cards one at a time or as a union, a 'hand', and realize that there is a pattern there.
You would have said this about anyone. However, I must resort to a McLuhanism, and say "the packaging IS the contents". As I thought... you've entirely failed to understand my metaphor. Not too surprising, since it wasn't a very good one anyway. I'm starting to think that metaphor crash is one of my greatest flaws as a communicator.
Bigblue: Ha! Is this your fancy way of saying "pigheaded"? * tee hee* Anyway, you've got to be out of your godammned skull, Blue. I don't think you meant it this way, but I have neither cards nor games- in fact I'm the honest one here. Wanderer's more like this though: Ambiguous address > downplayed interest > honest frustration >attack > a final ironic mix of his yearn to expose and protect. In short: ambifuckinguity galore. Wanderer: Allright, we'll pretend you're truly interested and not just 'poking'. If nothing else this can at least serve as a cheap plug. I call it the spiritual diet. In isolation the human spirit is questionable and by questioning there's insecurity, a state where we all know the dominant feeling is "lack". And so, "attraction" or "need" comes not from what we see in others but from what they see in us, which alone we either don't see or question. Example- by you saying this: "Why would I lie to someone that can see right through me? I am ashamed of nothing and freely show what I am to those that can appreciate it. "- wanderer Or this: "A few months ago I would have not believed you but now that I have personal experience with your type of woman, I do not doubt it at all. A ferocious wonderment you must be." - wanderer .......the natural reaction in a weak mind is to cling on to you since you fill that lack by you recognizing its worthiness. Without that recognition the weak mind remains aneimic without you. Enter sex: If the woman is average, he's her lord. If she is beautiful, he's the servant with bedroom privileges. Two selfish ideas match...... throw in some genitals....... and there lies the 'magical' shit the laity calls 'love'. This is easy- there's no real thinking or logic involved. It is not as easy with the supposed noble, but the diet's the same. Meaning: I would tailor myself at any cost for that one glimmer of recognition or image you paint of me if only to feed myself if I'm lacking- which I'm not. Its only after the ego is well fed that one seeks to share and be vulnerable again. Now, before this final stage there was a trial of lack and uncertainty- you yourself said you questioned your sanity until around 30 when 'soul mates' acknowledged your worth and made you arrogant, yes? That was clinging. And so now that I'm done, I too would not mind sharing with one almost like me if not better- and you've proved to me that you're not it. You see know why I've said its made easier? Of course this theory is all bullshit as soon as the genitals flare up- sex always wins in the end. Fuck biology. And it can lick mine. All I write is personal, colorful, intriguing and it sizzles with honesty. I'll show the whole bloody world when I'm ready- not just a choice few. Always remember that Schopy died a lonely, old, fat, miserable man. You knew this already. Again- the oddity in you. At this point I don't think I'd doubt this burning need you have to share your supposed wealth. If we really are like sisters, I believe it....... but it seems we're only related by bad blood. A great soul craving freedom and truth can't be stuffed with sermons and rhetoric at any point during its own kind dying to reach out to it. Mindgames soil the magic. Neither do I and so are mine. I did my 'studies' in waiting rooms (hospitals, clinics)- the most fascinating place to dissect people, I swear. Quiet unsuspecting humans not knowing they're being watched- its the easiest thing in the world picking out the shy ones or the perverted ones, the repressed or Christian ones, all the walks of life neatly stuffed in a room for you to observe without having to play mindgames. Women were easy, as always, but men so much easier depending on how I looked that day. Sweeeeeeet. Ditto. And can you understand that its this very thing you do that's severed the bloodline? Understand you used it on the wrong person. And can you see that despite knowing this I went ahead and revealed things I knew full well would expose me to ridicule? Its the only way to show noxious game players how fucking silly games are. Sounds..........sterile. You'll bore your audiance one day. Nietzche found me some years ago and I swear to you you can still imagine him crying, shrieking, and laughing over his pages as he wrote them. I think there's a tender part in you, but you're sick in it. And if you knew I approved there'd be an attraction- which you'll never know after we're done here. Simple human engineering. But its not just those threads though- your 2nd entry in this thread turned my stomach. Its still there if you don't know what I'm talking about. But concerning having to stoop now and then to rub shit in their face for being suckflies- understandable. Perfectly understood. Hear, hear, hear and amen. No.Fucking.Shit. And they'll point to Islam and call *that* indoctrination. Never mind that they have no fucking clue why it is they believe in what they're told to, at least they're "unique" and "perfectly free" in believing it democratically. Reminds me of those blind date shows where everyone and their brother hooks up to tell each other how different and unique they are........even though they just sit there saying and doing the same fucking things batting their damn eyelashes. You tell them how stupid they look and they scoff. God I hate people. Then I've been wasting my time. No matter- this may be my last post to you (depending) and its this, Janet's ugly boob, or mentrual blood. Don't ask. All those games and words, words, words. Its a wonder you never get confused in the cackle. My. Yes. Sing it man.......I believe you. You're free to frown. And moody butterflies don't smell. And your 'poking' doesn't. Make up your mind, will you? Personal or not? And honesty has backfired on me many, many times as well but I must be a gullible kitchen wench since it hasn't taught me to be a miserable liar. Not exactly calling you one- keep your panties on. You know what I mean. What the devil makes you think I'd be surprised to find that nobility is "not yet dead"? Think I've only read about it in books? Why *should* I be surprised if I'm sitting here perfectly sound and teeming with life- I'm looking right at it. There's only one other person in this world who's as good as the good in me- but that's another story. You, I'm still unsure of. True enough. But if this "other" is what I think it is and anything like you, something tells me the one 'tapping' is already this Disappontement you've grown to expect and not so and so. I could be wrong, but I doubt. Ha. ::fuming:: Ambiguity? You'll never see it and why? Answer: "But I’m poking little girl, just for the fun of it. No need only curiousity. Mankind is my study. What else is there to do?"
gendanken: Excuse me? I'm witnessing two people trying to fuck each other in some of the most disingenous styles that I've ever seen and you lump me in with a blinking twit like that just for sniggering? Now I'm offended. No this is great, from the Wanderer's avunculism and calculated rudeness to your impassioned protests that you're "not that sort of girl!" and veiled references to your physique. Do you really think fountainboy could appreciate this?
Xev: No need. Laughing for fouintainboys- as in at them. But you're welcome to feeling insulted if you'd like. Ask yourself exactly when it was that any references to my 'physicque' came up and if you can't find it, I'll gladly point it out for you. And there's nothing here to ~appreciate~.
