In physical, we grow by suffering.
To a dandy gentleman, suffering might be a poorly prepared hot drink. A mouldy cheese not aged but gone off. An imagined painting that looked different to how he might have imagined it should look. A hair out of place, which ruined a gesture in the theatre of his daily life.
But that suffering becomes comedy. But it is suffering.
To a dog, suffering might be not being cuddled for five minutes. It’s how we react to suffering that shapes our character. Some people manipulate others to fight their lost battles for them, grab a friend to take a bullet for them and to shield them from a fate they don’t think to imagine that they deserve.
And because some of us repeat ourselves, our personal suffering is the same until we learn how to navigate our stories so that we do not repeat the suffering that we endure.
When Tintin wants a cuddle, when I am busy, he won’t stop pestering me (I call it that but it is the most incredible compliment you can imagine because he is so independent) until he is granted affection and with the drama inbetween it is so rewarding for him and for me, no person could ever make me feel so special. No human ever has, no human ever could. Always pick animals. I’m not too fat or hairy for animals, but I’m lucky I don’t have a horse because I am too fat to jump off a horse right now.
You cannot run from your story it remains the same. Enlightenment is a brief moment – in time – in which we learn exactly what we need to know at that time. You cannot remain enlightened because everything evolves constantly and there is always more to learn. We cannot cope with knowing everything that there is to know, and if we could know everything we could not remember it, but enlightenment is knowing that which we came to learn for our soul’s growth.
I could not make sense of what I have learned without Buddhism, but I couldn’t be a buddhist.
My ego kept me alive, I’m not letting that go for a man or for a guide or for a job, but self honesty is good. The happiness I feel when I eat something I like eating doesn’t compare with decorating a wardrobe with ugly clothes that my childself winces to know she inspired and that were bastardised to appease people I don’t like, who convince themselves my dreams are theirs. Which now I encourage. Dreams are funny because you die a thousand times just to have them. I don’t know about what it takes to live them because I’ve lived one dream: and that was having “friends” and I comfort myself because I know now there’s no such thing as a “friend” if your friend is not me.
When I lose interest, so do they. I put them above me like a little hat and I regret it because it affects everyone.
For this to really be mine, I have to weave the fabric, I have to make the bleach, I have to dye the fabric, I have to make the beads, I have to make the thread, I have to kill the animal I fed to my maggots so that I could use the toilet. But it is a lesson, I can turn you into something much greater than you are. I can raise your value: that fabric was cheap. That bleach was cheap. That thread was cheap. Not for me, but for anyone with money. Those beads were very cheap. The black satin on the back of the “meat” was cheap. I had to listen to SethSpeaks for the idea and for the timing to be perfect enough that I could liken the bleached fabric to meat. Someone could copy me but they didn’t pay for the idea. They do pay inevitably but it’s a fact, it was mine. No one was doing that at the same time as me throughout the Universe. My ego is the significance I find in that when it is not my appearance. Looks go unless you invest all of your energies into your looks. And if you need someone else to tell you that you are beautiful you place all of your value in their opinion and they could discard of you or seek the company of someone whose appearance is an insult to yours and whose innerbeing is an insult to you (that is the worst, when their personality is offensive.)
Do not copy me, hold onto who you are inside, because that is all you really have.
Don’t relive my stories, you’ll end up where I am and you don’t deserve that. Especially if you have golden hair.
When you die you’ll face a dog that weighs your heart. Hope you are that dogs friend. Dogs are mine. Have whatever you want but dogs are mine. Cats are mine. You can pretend that dogs are pets or yours or dependents that need you, but inside they are all-mine. And we don’t need anyone.
I need money. I need to buy things. I need comfort. I need to eat. I need to drink. But I do not need you, and at one point that was very comforting to you because when I thought about you all the time and really lived for you, you did not like that. It’ll never happen again and it repulses me that I put you through that.
I hope you never learn what I had to, to become this way. I worry that this is too much for you to attempt to force yourself read, or that I am boring you.
Keep humans if that consoles you but dogs and cats are not yours.
Do not mind control animals because they’ll find out and they’ll leave. I promise you that they have better places to be. And in your life, what replaces them?
The only control you have over suffering is how you react to it. Hope that your mind and body are yours. Hope that at the worst of times, your body knows better than how-your-mind or your ‘heart’ (if you have one) might be inclined to respond and stay very calm through your karma but not if you are an artist. If you are an artist you should attempt to sublimate with what you have around you. If you are me, never call yourself an artist because someone around you doesn’t like that.
Stay away from immortal things, run from immortal things, say no to immortal things.
I have always said I have had everything and I have had nothing, but you don’t read what I write so that is why I’ll write as little as I can henceforth.
Watch out for my enemies because it takes a lot for me not to like someone, especially if I have loved them. And I am not wrong.
Queen Bathsheba, Lady Nelson, Queen Golda, Queen Laura, Diana, Karina