We are the rock that lands in the middle of the lake.

 Ripples.

 Troughs and crests of the liquid press against each other in an exquisitely beautiful chain reaction. .

Life rises and falls with gains and setbacks, harrowing wins and sorrowful losses.

 We signed up for it all. Most of us have been doing it over and over again for quite some time. A good number of participants are addicted to the suffering part, the dip in the ripple. It pushes toward the shore, lifting up the crest in proportion to it's energy.

 The harsher the suffering, the bigger the joy payout. These are the highs those thrill-seekers work lifetimes to achieve. 

 One of the alternatives to this is to keep an even keel at all times. Never getting upset, but also not ever being giddy. Stoicism is the epitomy of emotional control. Seems such a waste to me to be inhabiting a human body/soul/spirit and not ever utilize strong emotion. It's like buying a monster truck to drive 5mph to the church down the street every Sunday morning.

 I'm going through some metamorphosis again. Sometimes life changes and I have to adapt, other times it seems like the opposite happens. Both are occurring currently, making this an interesting time.

 I've suffered, some may say not enough. I have some pretty positive 'highs', so I think I'm doing alright. It's still one of my life goals to cry tears of joy every morning while waking. I've only genuinely done this twice, and it's blissful.

 Thanks for sticking here, keeping check on those emotions we try to control enough to have a fun experience here in this wild VR game we call 'life'!

Time to fold dimensions to save it all.

Math is complicated.
  It's never come easy to me,
    I've failed before I prevailed.

 But regardless of my spite of numerals,
    an intrinsic logic comes through in the form of intuition.
              I can grasp concepts that I cannot explain with data.

 Each number has it's own emotional expression.

 Numbers that harmonize move a unit towards integration to the point of non-existence.

 So, since we all go away in one way or another after all, why don't we just set a few things straight:

• Every letter of every language can be expressed numerically in almost infinite ways.
• Feelings can be quantified, whims estimated, and cravings assigned numbers
• Once everything is based on numbers, the unified system approach brings forth Phi
• Phi ratio includes every possible number combination, which is ALL of existence, and alts
• Rules can be made up on the fly. Success relies on ability to stick to the chosen rule-set.
• From these truths, a person can manifest experiences, materials, food, and mindsets.

 

 This is one of the keys to laws of attraction and manifestation. When someone wishing for something imagines the light that bounces off the goal, they are emanating the frequencies that harmonize with that object, experience, or person.  

So, although I'm atrocious at calculations, my brain can give me a break by letting go of the 'how' and focusing on the 'why' and 'what happens' of these theories. 

Incel in a cell selling out

The word itself sounds wrong: "Incel". Involuntary celibacy.

 I blink many times a day, this is involuntary.
 I also do not have sex many times a day,  but this is no reflexive action required by my body.

I'd like to rename it to a longer and more to-the-point moniker. "Forced Celibacy".

 That's more like it. When those words hit the ear, an image of someone holding a gun to another person's chastity belt comes to mind. This is an image that closely resembles the actual feeling of being an 'incel' than the original name implies.

 How are we forced to not have sex?

 Firstly, we have our genitals mutilated at birth by a religious practice. The religion is not even what our mothers and fathers follow. The lack of sensation to the missing area and resulting scar tissue end up lowering the libido by decreasing sensitivity to fractional levels.

 Secondly, no allowances for sexual discovery are given while growing up. Each nuclear unit makes up its own methods to pass along information, relay any sexual wisdom, and allow for privacy enough to facilitate experimentation. Most families do not employ any of the above methods and leaves the human lacking in all areas sensual. Confusion and uncertainty about sexual identity turns shyness into complete awkwardness when confronted with the idea of sex.

 Thirdly, we are a world that follows religious laws that uphold monogamous relationships. Even though the lowest number of people are attending church, more marriages are happening. The laws of each town, city, state, and nation all legally recognize the bond between only TWO people, and nothing more. This places a single union with fidelity at the highest rung. To attain a healthy relationship, everyone must strive to be monogamous and faithful in order to have sex and keep having sex after marriage.

 Fourthly, the importance of material goods and mere survival by expending energy for others profit is seen as 'responsible' and is looked at as one of the best virtues.

 "I'll not even look at a man if he doesn't have a job", this one waitress says to me.
She plays the structured game exactly as it's been set up. Those that don't give their time to the good 'ol corporation don't get any pudding pie.

 Fifth on the list is assholes. No, not the rectum, but the wreck of human scum that is the bad guy. They say "Good guys always finish last".

 The man who first made that quote up got laid on the spot.

but seriously, this mindset delves deep within the psyche of the current generation. Before, men were built to be assholes for good reason, they had to help their family survive in a land of assholes. There were no good men associating with them.
 As time went along, they had to mix. This is where the saying came from. The good guys didn't even flinch because they were fine finishing last and knew their scenery was better.

 Until women started to become programmed to hate themselves. Self-esteem issues plague more girls than ever before. This is due to saturation of denigrated and degraded women in social media.

 Those that rely only on others for their oxytocin-9 shots are sadly mistaken when left alone. They feel as if they deserve harsh treatment and exposure to rude behavior. Good guys can't provide that, but they do make for good heart-break material if someone were to have a darker heart.

 The last man I witnessed with his pants below his hips while cradling his manhood outside of his underwear in public stated that he did so to show women how quick he'd be if they were to get 'froggy'. In many areas, this would seem to be a social faux-pa, but in the urban areas, there exist females that absolutely love to see their mate do this. Good guys don't grabba their junk.

 I propose booths on every corner. These booths are for consensual free sex between adults. A variety of safety gear and prophylactics can be 3d printed from the interior.

 Think port-o-john, except the john part has a jane with it.

 The ultimate no-strings-attached biological satisfaction center.
Not robots, but human visitors that are available through a tube-like tunnel system that
hooks people up at no charge. We came with dollar slots or coin changers, so we aren't meant to pay for what nature gave to us freely.

If no partner is available, a variety of self-help tools would be provided to quell the most impatient of incels.

 They would have to look at art that adorned the satisfaction center walls.
It might look a little like this.

Poetry of post-crisis self therapy

There was the one time

Sex, or the lack of

was used as a weapon against me

I buckled initially,

lashing out with violent shouts.

I calmed enough to sit back on the couch in a daze,

while the fabricated lovers went to do the deed

in the other room.

After the initial shock wore down,

I took a look at a lonely notebook

with just one page used.

I ripped that message from the book

and started at the beginning of the issue

of my forlorn love.

Within the next six hours,

I filled that notebook

with my own counseling

for my own problem

solving it before I saw the ‘Lovers’ emerged

from their fateful slumber chambers.

I asked them with a genuinely positive tone

“Well, how was it?”

D'update

I've been watching TV shows again. 

 I'm enthralled with comedies. These distractions of laughter are sometimes what I think I need at the time. They feel good.

 On the scholastic front, my nose is still inside the book. Not too far in to where I can't focus on the words, though. There's a danger in that.

 I'm picking up projects, dropping others, and putting some on hold for now.

  The best thing about my newest project is that I can use the experience to help the homeless. Yay! Let's destigmatize this group!
  
  Another project I have utilizes my graphical prowress. I know I don't have many good examples here, but maybe I'll share some soon.
  
  Writing is now back in vogue. I have neglected my own creative spirit by only writing for sholastic reasons, but now other realms are opening to me. 
  
All this time, and I still defy life by being single. Not just a bachelor, but a loner. I have a social life, but not one that involves anything

akin to a relationship. Those don't come my way often, but I'm glad to say that I trust that they will continue.

 I'm writing a poem currently, here's the plot:

1.  Hungry Traveler walking down a path
2.   notices a beetle crossing ahead of him
3.   Traveler stops, so does beetle.
4.   Traveler entices the beetle to cross by drawing a line in the path with a stick.
5.   Beetle crosses the path and leads traveller to money.
6.   Traveler heads back the way he came.
7.   Traveler returns to beetle and lays before him a meal that costs all of the funds.
8.   Traveler walks away.

Here's a shiny desktop wallpaper I made recently:

The shape I see when I think of the world/universe

ThoughtGuns

                            Wham!

I'm trapped. I have no weapons and no way out. They're right on the other side of this wall, looking for me. They've got guns, and a confidence that smells the opposite of fear.

                            Slam!

Why couldn't I have just gone to the movies with Brent to see Spy Guy 5? But I just had to
call Jessica to get a piece before high-tailing it to Canada. She required a high I couldn't get her, so she had me escort her to her friend Gino's. Fine, except Gino had me check my weapons at the door, plus he was my nemesis Elias' confidant.

                           Smash!

Before I knew it, Jessica just left without saying goodbye. Gino's goons were all about getting at me, but I ran and shut myself in Gino's stinky bathroom.

                           Crunch!

Oh god! Why doesn't this cromagnon flush his leavings? Now that I looked at it, I can smell it. It's the only thing I smell now. I'm going to puke.

                             Pop!

I have no way of getting out of this if I'm hurling. I'll use the trick Spy Guy uses in the third movie where he used cotton balls in his nostrils to not smell the knockout gas.

                            Crack!

They're almost through the door, what am I supposed to do? I've played Spy Guy the video game so much that I shouldn't be lacking a weapon. But all I do to react to this life threatening moment is to make my hands into a pretend gun and think positive thoughts like "maybe these guys will drop their guns, slap five, turn around and take Gino to the movies"

                           Slam!

They're through the door. I pop off two rounds with my hand gun, shooting them both with the power of my positive thoughts

They immediately release their weapons, smile at each other, high five, then turn and go about grabbing Gino up from the couch while talking excitedly about the newest Hello Doggie flick.

I look at my hands in disbelief as I hear distanced cussing as the thugs do my bidding.

Third post this year = Active

                            Hi Again!

It's true that I've been absent often lately, but that is in no way due to my lack of love for this medium. I still love writing, and it's with this joy that I jot t his down for you.

In the near future, I will teach a person about blogging and content creation. This will be the first post she sees that I have written, so it should have at least some substance to it. Now to the meat of what I've been up to.

Higher education also means higher methods of deception. I'm pretty bitter for the ropes and hoops I've been led through, but I am grateful to obtain a piece of paper next spring.

Greedy administrators do not outweigh great teachers. This is one of the ways that they are allowed by the student body to continue their traditions of lies, greed, and manipulation. My professors are as powerless as I am in ridding this system of it's evils, so they just do their jobs as well as they can. They are people who truly care about and for students. A great prof is worth over a hundred shitty administrators. They know this and stick to this ratio, more or less.

End of term implosions happen. I tend to be a bad student near the end and a great student at the outset. My motivation for a brighter future isn't waning. I want success and stumble when I contact any resistance with the system that's supposed to be designed to support me.

But I'm graduating, so what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, right?

Speaking of strength, I had an opportunity to participate in something that built my muscles up that I also found very fun. Stand-up Paddleboarding. Sup, for short, it is a water activity using a longboard and a paddle. Just balancing on the board works most of the muscles in the body. Stamina and endurance comes to those who really work through the water with the paddle. And rest times are supremely serene with slow floating scenes setting a very relaxed pace.

I'm not sure what kind of milestone this is, but I'm working on my tenth year of not driving. It has been very hard to adjust at times, but I am so glad to not have to own or drive a vehicle. 

I'm still unmarried. That does make me happy! I'm in no way a player or typical bachelor, so my reasoning isn't what you hear from those types. It's mostly that I want to make sure that I fully love myself before I open up to "the one". I may never be ready, but that's OK.

I've yet to realise my ulimate perception of success. I will know that I have if I wake up each day crying tears of joy. Here's to those days!