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  • The Purpose of Life

    To be available to those that have a need to benefit from the resources that you have at your disposal so that their life’s trials may be lightened by the burdens of your own. Your ability to dispense of these benefits in a magnanimous and selfless manner is directly proportional to the perceived level of dignity and respect by which you’ll be addressed or received. Forming symbiotic relationships with those that have resources that serve your needs proportional to the resources you have to serve their needs is what would tend towards a healthy exchange of benefits and trials leading to procreation within the confines of wedlock…that’s of course only if you choose to maintain your dignity in the process. If not, it will lead to procreation out of wedlock, or perhaps no possibility of procreation at all if your choice is an unnatural relationship.

    So in a nutshell, using and being used if done with dignity and respect, will lead to an honourable and happy life. Maybe.

  • Not Quite a Shakespearean Sonnet

    How do I love thee?
    I cannot count the ways.
    Not the fluttering in my heart,
    Nor the shortness in my breath,
    Nor the lightness in my step,
    Not even the sparkle in my eyes at the thought of you,
    Or the elation in my soul at the sound of your sweet smile,
    None of this will ever truly hint at how much I love thee.

    Perhaps a hug,
    No, an enshrouding embrace with a lingering caress of your lips
    may shed some light into the depth of my love.
    But even then, the truth of my love will still remain untold.

    For I love thee like I’ve loved no other,
    And I live for thee, which I’ve never done for another.
    So you must love me,
    And you must cherish me,
    And you must hold me,
    And never leave me.
    For if you do, it will destroy me,
    And neither you nor I will ever be blessed with such a love again.

  • Reminds me of someone I know, especially the paisley. 🙁

    imgfavepopular:

    ★ discovered on imgfave.com (social image bookmarking)

    (Source: http://imgfave.com/view/1306912)

  • Hypocrisy Perfected

    Hypocrisy definedThey say that the fear of ridicule breeds the most repugnant of cowards. So then the most repugnant of cowards must surely breed the most despicable of hypocrites. And hypocrites by definition cannot be happy or fulfilled people. 

    There’s a fine line between being selfish enough to sustain our own soul’s desires, and sacrificing enough to selflessly contribute to the life experiences of others. Being human lies somewhere between being a narcissist and a martyr. And hypocrisy has no part to play at all.

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  • Hypocrisy Perfected

    They say that the fear of ridicule breeds the most repugnant of cowards. So then the most repugnant of cowards must surely breed the most despicable of hypocrites. And I fail to see how hypocrites can be happy or fulfilled people.

    I find that so many times we’re too willing to sacrifice what we want for ourselves under the guise of being martyrs for the greater good. But that greater good is rarely subscribed to by those for whom we claim to pursue it. Yet our self-pity, or is that self-destructiveness (read cowardice) prompts us along that very same path that robs us of our own peace or happiness, all the while convincing ourselves that we’re doing it to make someone dear to us happy, which should inevitably make us happy.

    But it doesn’t. Because rarely, if ever, does anyone reciprocate such sacrifices. If they do, it’s usually for someone else that they’re also trying to please or ‘make happy’ and as a result, we end up in a vicious cycle of unfulfilled aspirations of securing the love and adoration, if not at least appreciation of those we deem deserving of our sacrifices, only to discover that we’ve lost the essence of ourselves in the process while they were trying to please someone else.

    I’ve always believed that we act out of duty rather than conviction when the guilty martyr in us triumphs over our courage to be true to ourselves and just to our souls. There’s less risk in having to face the consequences of a bad decision that may leave us exposed or vulnerable, and infinitely more cowardly comfort in the knowledge that if someone betrays us, we can blame them for their dishonesty and feel justifiable pity for ourselves. Justifiable or not, that pity will never leave us feeling fulfilled, loved, or appreciated. It will leave us seeking fulfilment from others, and we will disguise that yearning as willing sacrifices for those we love, but it will never bring us any closer to being true to ourselves.

    There’s a fine line between being selfish enough to sustain our own soul’s desires, and sacrificing enough to selflessly contribute to the life experiences of others. Being human lies somewhere between being a narcissist and a martyr. And hypocrisy has no part to play at all.

  • Integrity is Dead

    Betrayal never is an easy pill to swallow, no matter how jaded I might be. The worst of it is when I find myself compelled to question every moment of sincerity that I expended in affection, admiration and respect towards those that I held in such high esteem. People, including me, often suggest that no matter the outcome, the good memories of what has been can never be taken away. I know now that that is absolute rubbish!

    Betrayal sours good memories. But worse than that, it creates doubts where there should be none, where we can’t afford to have any. Not only does it raise questions about the inherent integrity of the betrayer, but it also calls to question every instinctive judgement call I ever made. How can I trust myself to see good in others if time after time I have been proven wrong about my assumptions through the simply callous act of betrayal? How am I supposed to believe in others, see the good in them and give them the benefit of the doubt if every single time it appears that I completely missed their deceptive manipulations?

    Being trusting is so easily, and seemingly justifiably misconstrued as being naive instead. I can’t live suspiciously while maintaining a facade of sincerity. At least I choose not to. And so it seems that if I persist in staying true to myself, I risk growing old alone and isolated, with my nearest and dearest only appreciating the veneer of me, whilst being totally oblivious to the emptiness that echoes inside, waiting desperately for the arrival of one that I can embrace completely. Perhaps that shows in some subliminal way which is what scares them off due to the overwhelming expectation of true commitment and trust.

    But I can’t accept that I am alone in this want, in this desire to have a true companion. Surely every human being has a need to be understood, accepted and appreciated? If this be true, then why do others not seem to want it as much as I do? Are we all victims of our own betrayals? Too many questions, not enough answers, and certainly a scarcity of sincerity to make any responses even plausibly trustworthy.

    Like I said before, integrity is dead. Self-preservation killed it.

  • Integrity is Dead

    Betrayal never is an easy pill to swallow, no matter how jaded I might be. The worst of it is when I find myself compelled to question every moment of sincerity that I expended in affection, admiration and respect towards those that I held in such high esteem. People, including me, often suggest that no matter the outcome, the good memories of what has been can never be taken away. I know now that that is absolute rubbish!

    Betrayal sours good memories. But worse than that, it creates doubts where there should be none, where we can’t afford to have any. Not only does it raise questions about the inherent integrity of the betrayer, but it also calls to question every instinctive judgement call I ever made. How can I trust myself to see good in others if time after time I have been proven wrong about my assumptions through the simply callous act of betrayal? How am I supposed to believe in others, see the good in them and give them the benefit of the doubt if every single time it appears that I completely missed their deceptive manipulations?

    Being trusting is so easily, and seemingly justifiably misconstrued as being naive instead. I can’t live suspiciously while maintaining a facade of sincerity. At least I choose not to. And so it seems that if I persist in staying true to myself, I risk growing old alone and isolated, with my nearest and dearest only appreciating the veneer of me, whilst being totally oblivious to the emptiness that echoes inside, waiting desperately for the arrival of one that I can embrace completely. Perhaps that shows in some subliminal way which is what scares them off due to the overwhelming expectation of true commitment and trust.

    But I can’t accept that I am alone in this want, in this desire to have a true companion. Surely every human being has a need to be understood, accepted and appreciated? If this be true, then why do others not seem to want it as much as I do? Are we all victims of our own betrayals? Too many questions, not enough answers, and certainly a scarcity of sincerity to make any responses even plausibly trustworthy.

    Like I said before, integrity is dead. Self-preservation killed it.

  • I must learn to love the fool in me—the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool.

    Theodore I. Rubin, MD