Rape

About the sudden frequency of news items concerning (usually gorgeous) female teachers "raping" male underage students:

Comparable gender sexuality discourse is still taboo in this country. While male perped rape is violence and not sex for females, it may be hard to prove that female perped rape is not sexual or unconsensual on the male side. Also, the incidental presence of elements of sexual pleasure or arousal during rape may be difficult to compartmentalize in an unconsensual and violent situation. Lots of work to do with these primitive laws.

The Modern Sociopath

I forward to you the assertion that all forms of violence are symptoms of mental illness.

This definition of violence includes law enforcement, military, agricultural (animal exploitation) and religious violence, which are all normally sanctioned in most modern societies.

Coincidentally or not, this violence is almost exclusively perpetrated by human males.  One is led to extract that human hormonal enhancement (or challenge) predisposes certain people to express this form of mental illness.

There are reasons to believe that in present modern societies, violence could ideally be replaced with more functional behavior, such as verbal conflict resolution strategies and diplomacy.

Violence has been rationalized as a last resort.

All the Ways We Hang Ourselves

Keeping this day as a pure and enforceable do-absolutely-nothing day, I just let the cravings and impulses roam amok, and...
there weren't any.

Played games all day on my phone in bed in the dark till my eyes hurt. And now I'm back on the screen.

My brain wasn't stopping though, not even for a second.

Caught myself  1) holding my breath  2) unconsciously tightening up all my upper torso muscles  3) making background mental lists of all the things I could/should be doing instead.

That meditation of not thinking of anything while not doing anything is still not something I have mastered, although I've done it for seconds at a time at various times, and it always did a world of good to me.  There's lots of things that may do me worlds of good, but the reason I don't just start doing them are numerous and complex.

Basic self-sabotage acts, some stemming from fear of change, general avoidance, and a realization of having reached a minimum level of comfort - i.e. not being hungry, worried about sheller etc.

DISCOMFORT plays a huge role in all of this.  Getting out of the warm blankies. Having to face my face another aging day.

Friends are moving away.  Relatives are few and far away.  Being alone is ultimately comforting.

So, I had a dream.

Without boring the non-dreamer listener, I suddenly found myself in the 1970s, in a cruster's bar - with my iPhone.

Before I pulled it out of my purse, I had been conversing with these two old guys at the bar.  As our conversation hit taking a photograph, my iPhone appeared, and the conversation halted with the two staring at my device - completely silent.

They stared without understanding, probably because I'd said something about taking a picture with my phone.

Getting an uneasy feeling, I said a quick set of goodbyes because I had to, uhm, do something at that very moment, and I exited the bar.

Next scene, I was hiding out behind an outhouse? and something had happened, I'd prolly been knocked out because I couldn't find my purse, with my phone in it, of course.  The thing that most terrified me was that i could now no longer make my way back to the teens where I came from, because my boarding pass app had to have been in my phone, or in my purse at least.

Looking around, I found under a trash can the remains of my purse, with almost everything gone from it, and definitely my phone.

Eddie had come along with me on this trip, but for sokme reason had not come to the bar where I'd been mugged.   As I was in my no-return panic, Eddie showed up. He was quite distressed, because he realized he was in the 70s with a rocker haircut, and getting too much flack for it, had gotten a crew cut by some woman he met on the street.

I was aghast at how different he looked, and by the fact that he had already deserted me psychically. Saying he had to go back to this woman, he suddenly found her closeby, and right then I had a further future vision of what these two had become, from merging; two yellow boxy, rhinestone and glitter encrusted robots who shared the same sign language. That was the adaptation to stay within the 1970s, I guess.

Weird.

The Feel of Things Falling Apart

Waking up in the morning with body pain.

Why?

I don't know.

Is it all the sugar I eat?  Because I've already stopped eating wheat since seven years now.  And they promised that my joints would stop degenerating!

They lied.  Again.

So, now the infrequent exercising begins.  In the living room.

It's a brand new reality, the body changing.  Take it as it comes. Quit the day job. Feel the pain.  It leaves no stain.