B"H
reputed pirates who never got beyond swabbing the deck . The true
image of me portrays a speculative prognosis of everything that
meets with disdain in the eyes of normal folks, but that simple cute
face is there to assure everybody who countenances me , of my
intrinsic righteous ness. Detaching from that is a feat and either
way you skin the onion it co mes out as grandiose. A check to the
distant past makes such fears small in my eyes , blink my eyes and
it's gone. Pain isn't intrinsic to suffering; but to acco mplishment,
it is. My determination of who I AM starts and ends with my
internal expansion uniquely ; the soul I AM is responsible. It
benefits me nothing to take offense at the degradation people are
willing to heap on me, that's how they manage their internal
expansion, maybe the way they see themselves in the eyes of
others, who knows?
I'm sure I spent a lot of time on doing things that caused people
to become irate; as things go I'm usually sensitive to that reality ,
but they too, like to get in arguments about nothing - in order to
escape the boredom of those mo ments. There's a complete social
order about cutting into lines, waiting for your turn, etc. I always
say, "If you can't be happy, act crazy, somebody else will probably
laugh at you acting that way. " One should not laugh harshly in
degrading tones but exude a warm and cozy smile to express
patience, understanding, and the willingness to share, for as long
a time as the voice takes until rejoins the silence. Don't chill,
princely dukes or duchesses, warm up the silence with the
quietness of breath. Or you can hee-haw like a donkey; grasping
breath to enunciate the phoneme hee, exerting it to say eee awh
(inhaling the vowel sound) and Auohm neitzak Echad - inhalin g
also the guttural ch sound. Stay as calm as a cucumber, this too
will pass.
What analysis can I offer for the grandeur that co mposes my
self-image? No words could describe the flex on the balloon like
container in which I inflate my ego, you 'd have to see the way I
dress, walk, eat, and co mport my ways . On the one hand, the
episodes of thought may be seen as real occurrences, but why
assume so when I AM ad mittedly detached fro m reality. Fro m the
schizophrenic aspect of paranoia, I can imagine myself as an actor
in the role of being human who the reader is readi ng about; but
himself a character in the book written to include his looking into
my story, by an author unbeknown to either of us. This
corresponds to Judaic tradition that ponders free will in light o f
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