I Didn't Have To Work For It

Now, whatta I have to live for? All I wanted to know was how these people who raised me to be a man could jerk me around the way they did. Why wasn't I my own man? Why am I merely a symbol of somebody else's ideas about the way things should be? I keep having these epiphanies which conclude with me saying something equivalent to, "Now, I know. I've finally figured out what puzzled me. Now I can rest in peace."

I could have rested in peace with each epiphany if I had died for sure immediately afterwards. Aye, and there's the rub. I keep not dying. I reach conclusion after conclusion for the questions life poses, but I keep living and breathing, and reaching for answers to questions which only arise because I ain't dead yet. What a bummer, man.

My realization of the connection and association between being baptized by submersion and waterboarding has got to be the epiphany of all epiphanies. I should absolutely die soon, but that only brings up my fear of the terror. I know full well by now that I took a body on Earth while frantically attempting to hide from the terror. If I lose my body, then I'm taking the risk that I might not be able to find another place to hide from the terror, and that's just more than the bravest of men can bear.

I like to think that I've stayed on Earth using the bodies I created to hide from the terror because I"m smarter than your average bear, but life don't necessarily imitate art in all cases.

This is just weird. I'm writing that one takes a body to hide from the terror. The body is a closed system. Closed systems undergo entropy, and finally exhaust themselves, thereby exposing themselves to the terror again, which annihilates reason as a mere pastime.

I know a lot about the reptiles in my inner world, and how they run the show. I also know though a multiplicity of gross mistakes that there's nothing that needs to be done about the reptilian world running the show. It'd be a hell of a mess if they didn't. Trying to stop the reptilian world from running the show is like fight windmills with the weapons of yesteryear.

I'm referencing the triune brain here. If you don't know it, and desire to, for whatever odd reason, all you have to do is open Google and type in "triune brain" and it will gently (or not) guide you to some deeper understanding of why this theory works extemporaneously for a lotta people.

In the triune brain theory the reptilian brain is located at the top of the spinal cord and beneath all the rest of the brain, which develops from it with the reptilian brain as root. Above and beyond the reptilian brain resides what is called the horse brain, and above it and above all is what makes humans wait to piss and shit until they go away from they abode.

The reptilian brain sends out bots to check things out to keep things going okay at a very primitive level. It really doesn't have anything to do with horse sense, which is dependent upon it. Reptilian sense is your bottom line survival routines that doesn't depend on your conscious interventions, and in fact won't tolerate it under the threat of death. It does what it has to do or if it doesn't, the closed system suffers overwhelming entropy and it dies. Period. Just treat snakes holy whether it makes sense or not, and you'll probably be okay.

My brother is out mowing the lawn. What a showoff. He's out mowing the lawn. His wife is up at a week long seminar to be in the same room as the Dalai Lama up north somewhere, and the business they created together is going along swimmingly using hired help. They're truly surprised. Neither of them appeared to think that it could come to this. I'm pleased for them as a witness. I never asked to be their brother. I feel a little guilty I didn't have to work for it.