Whenever I see someone throw a cigarette out their window, I want to chase them down and make a citizen’s arrest.
Of course I don’t.
I think, Eh fuck it. I’ll be dead soon.
The children can worry about the environment when they grow up.
But they’ll be living on a space station anyway, in a pod, plugged into a nice clean virtual reality matrix, fed intravenously by a nutrient broth, so…
they’ll have that going for them.
Which sounds pretty nice.
The two polar fundamental principles of life:
What can I get, vs what can I give?
Lean towards one, and it defines everything I do.
Give high value stuff, and you get back high value stuff.
But give complaints and you get other losers who like complaining too.
Be #highvalue
It’s time the authorities stepped in to do something.
People are discriminating against cats.
And it needs to stop.
The statistics are plain as day: Dog ownership outpaces cat ownership 3 to 1.
(And in some places, like southeast Asia, the gap is even greater due to culinary practices)
Nevertheless, this gap must be addressed.
First and foremost, our preferences for dogs or cats are subordinate to their equal rights.
Dogs and cats are the same. They’re pets.
So, why are people choosing to own dogs over cats?
Because dogs are more energetic and focused?
Cats are too! Just in different ways. Say, if there’s a string, or a small insect nearby.
It’s time humans appreciate this aspect of cats.
Another misconception about how dogs are better: That they are more trainable and more committed to help.
This is not something you should judge when choosing a pet. Why? Because why are you using your values and needs when we should be treating these pets EQUALLY.
Dogs and cats are not only equal, they’re the same. They’re pets. Just like when you hire someone for a job. Yes, there are small differences, in skills, commitment, or availability. But they’re all human, aren’t they? We are all living things. And we should all be treated equally.
Stop being selfish about what YOU need, and start thinking of the less fortunate.
The sooner government gets involved to provide more opportunity for cats and to equalize our choices, the better.
Complaining is about Me, me, me
It’s not about caring
For anyone
Other than myself.
Seduction is a dance, an ancient dance, a timeless dance, a dancing in the moment. That’s what it is.
Men and women dancing together as they always have, entangled for all time in joy and heartbreak and ecstasy and hope.
It is a dance of clarity, of honest communication and the intricacies of sub–communication.
It transcends age, race, everything.
It is intuition as an art form.
It is ease and delight.
It is curiosity.
It is gratitude.
It is a welcomed hint of danger.
It is unrepentant, direct, overt, audacious.
It is subtle and elegant.
It is joyous, charged, electric, rushing, magnetic, subdued, restrained, intimate, respectful.
It is the love of man for woman, the love of woman for man, the love of ourselves, and a love of life.
It is the culmination of all things good: the masculine, feminine, the divine, everything coalesced, abundant, and in perfect form.
Yes, seduction is a dance, a luscious, effusive, sensual, sexual, never ceasing, sacred dance.
Excerpt from: The Alabaster Girl
“Those jeans are fantastic on you,” I said.
Why didn’t she walk away? There was plenty of room in the rest of the bar. I wondered what she was thinking. Did she trust me? Did she know that I was being genuine? Did she know if she returned my love, that I would not abuse her?
You gotta show up.
“I like that,” the words come out of my mouth before I know what happened.
The uncomfortable conversations must be had, just as the ones that show your love. How else do you improve? How else do you allow others to improve when they don’t know they’ve done wrong?
Differences between groups of different races or groups of different genders aren’t necessarily caused by race or gender.
That assumption is just that…an assumption. Whether those differences are about pay rate, or violent crime, or family structure.
Let’s get comprehensive and look beyond these superficial variables.
We live in a multivariate world, and race or gender is only one component.
You can’t argue facts with someone who is going off their feelings.
Whatever your desired outcome, whatever reality you envision, depends on your plan. And your plan depends on reasons.
Not because, “I think it will do good.”
But “How does my plan help? What does my plan cost? How does it hurt?”
I smiled at them, “I was over there and I saw you over here…and I thought to come over and say hi.”
but on my stuff.
For instance, I looked down at the end of the bar, and there was a guy drinking. And honestly I don’t know whether it was his intent or not, but he looked like he was drinking himself to liberation.
He looked like many, who use alcohol to self-medicate from a disatisfaction with reality. Not the intent of alcohol, which is entertainment. Hopefully, he didn’t hurt anyone that night…a spouse, a friend, or a stranger… becauseof this abuse.
Females are abused on the regular by guys who get drunk. My ex was one of those victims, abused by her boyfriend. Not common, but more common than we’d like. So shouldn’t we protect them?
We do have laws to address the consequences of such actions. There’s a price for assault. And laws to try to prevent alcohol purchases before a certain mature age.
But perhaps the restrictions needed to be stronger. To protect him from himself, and others. A big sin tax? …or limiting supply of alcohol? …or making it illegal, like other drugs?
But we should be careful. Because when we make laws assuming the intent of individuals, we hurt the others who have no such intentions, because how do wed determine what someone intends to do?
Making laws restricting individuals from purchasing or using certain things must be done very carefully.
There was something about her. We were connecting. She smiled, I smiled. It was there, and it sparked.
We enjoyed each other’s company, but we weren’t together. There was a barrier and it was slippery and intangible and it separated our souls.
She shared things, but not herself. She withdrew herself from intimacy. There was penetration and kisses and orgasms. But they felt like acts, things we did to each other, eliciting chemical reactions…while a huge emptiness sat beneath it.
Even when she was looking into my eyes, she wasn’t with me. She was off a short distance away, observing.
Or simply buried too deep in her head. Walled off, vulnerabilities hidden. But I’d seen them on occasion, when she’d lash out at something trivial I did, transferring whatever internal problem onto her environment.
I had showed up with my vulnerabilities, caring too much, getting too close, so maybe she chained her own demons away for my own protection, because she knew how powerful they were.
My initial frustrations faded, replaced by sympathy, and now pity. Because how can there be empathy when I can’t relate to that fear, of someone too anxious to let go, and let the future be?
Things don’t come naturally without our allowing it.
