Meet...Puppet
Last night I did something small scale stupid. I helped my mother purchase a camera on Amazon.
All in all a small thing, right? Unfortunately, that camera was expensive, my mother is living way beyond her means and I should have said "no", I will not help you.
And then the ground opens up for me and I fall into the Abyss, as the excuses, rationalizations and tone of voice that come across the phone begin to sound identical to the ones I made when I wanted my guitar. I bought her knowing full well that any day Alessandra and I would have to pay a shitload of taxes, but damn it I had, had, HAD to have a guitar.
I have mentioned here that I'm an Alcoholic, but that is a 1/2 truth. I am an Alcoholic Personality; it's less about the drug itself than the mental and physical aspects of having that constitution. The constant obsessions, physical cravings and what they call in AA "the mental twist", which causes you to come up with an excuse to have your desire at nearly any cost. It's a fucking drag, and you constantly have to be aware of it or you end up wondering why everyone is mad at you when all you wanted was a little....x.
It's a rude slap in the face and shows the sometimes-great divide between how I perceive myself and how I can behave.
Some say that we choose our bodies and our karmic path before birth; others claim that we can change our bodies and minds on the fly. I don't really much know about that, but I do know it sure sucks to do battle with ones self and desires when it seems to be built into the physiology.
There is of course more, the idea that there are probably deep structure lessons learned from my mother also embedded in me, also disturb me because I am a harsh critic of my mother's behavior and lifestyle and here I am echoing that same behavior. Can we ever escape from parental influence? I'm 38 fucking years old; you'd think I'd be past some of this crap. Let's leave the issue of my inability to say "no" to the therapist. I'm also pretty pissed about that.
I'm currently angry at myself and my weaknesses, even though I love myself unconditionally, it still sucks because I still have desires and cravings for other things that I sometimes take myself up on, even though they are bad for my health.
Today I am not a god disguised as a man, but a god trapped in a fragile and fallible meat sack.
The lesson here, barring the esoteric of which I know nothing, is: "It is what it is". But right now, it is unsatisfactory answer. Perhaps I will have to take a dive into esoterica, but my only problem with that it can lead to head-up-your-assery, and based on my addictions and manias, I am prone to, which is why I ditched to it begin with.
All in all a small thing, right? Unfortunately, that camera was expensive, my mother is living way beyond her means and I should have said "no", I will not help you.
And then the ground opens up for me and I fall into the Abyss, as the excuses, rationalizations and tone of voice that come across the phone begin to sound identical to the ones I made when I wanted my guitar. I bought her knowing full well that any day Alessandra and I would have to pay a shitload of taxes, but damn it I had, had, HAD to have a guitar.
I have mentioned here that I'm an Alcoholic, but that is a 1/2 truth. I am an Alcoholic Personality; it's less about the drug itself than the mental and physical aspects of having that constitution. The constant obsessions, physical cravings and what they call in AA "the mental twist", which causes you to come up with an excuse to have your desire at nearly any cost. It's a fucking drag, and you constantly have to be aware of it or you end up wondering why everyone is mad at you when all you wanted was a little....x.
It's a rude slap in the face and shows the sometimes-great divide between how I perceive myself and how I can behave.
Some say that we choose our bodies and our karmic path before birth; others claim that we can change our bodies and minds on the fly. I don't really much know about that, but I do know it sure sucks to do battle with ones self and desires when it seems to be built into the physiology.
There is of course more, the idea that there are probably deep structure lessons learned from my mother also embedded in me, also disturb me because I am a harsh critic of my mother's behavior and lifestyle and here I am echoing that same behavior. Can we ever escape from parental influence? I'm 38 fucking years old; you'd think I'd be past some of this crap. Let's leave the issue of my inability to say "no" to the therapist. I'm also pretty pissed about that.
I'm currently angry at myself and my weaknesses, even though I love myself unconditionally, it still sucks because I still have desires and cravings for other things that I sometimes take myself up on, even though they are bad for my health.
Today I am not a god disguised as a man, but a god trapped in a fragile and fallible meat sack.
The lesson here, barring the esoteric of which I know nothing, is: "It is what it is". But right now, it is unsatisfactory answer. Perhaps I will have to take a dive into esoterica, but my only problem with that it can lead to head-up-your-assery, and based on my addictions and manias, I am prone to, which is why I ditched to it begin with.
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