What is an idea? It’s a burst, a sparkle of new connectivity. It’s a delicious brain buzz humming with the unfettered thrill of happily ever after. A little Disney orgasm if you will – cue crescendo and bluebirds. But without action, let’s face it, any idea is purely a personal pleasure. When you take new micro neural connections and expand then into the social system as macro reflections in real-time… woah, then you’ve got an orgy on your hands! Continue reading
In this age of constant communication, the medium of our translation is homogenized into set typefaces of surprisingly limited variation. How can we regain our personal relationship with the physicality of the written word? Continue reading
When you’ve exhausted all avenues of procrastination, when you’ve done the dishes, called your mother, cleared your inbox, and cum until your wrist aches… all that’s left is you and time, locked in a stalemate. This is the moment of courage, of faith. Why write a novel? Why put yourself through the torture of trying to communicate an intimate kaleidoscope reality, an entire world, through the blind stick figure middlemen of letters on a page? This cannot be a choice, because if it were, no novel would ever have been written. Story pushes up from somewhere deep, deep within our bodies – our words are only the tiny penis tip of our creation.
Words. Like icebergs, they hide the danger of their true momentum far beneath the surface of the screen. Words, such failingly inadequate tools of translation, trying desperately to bring two brains into harmony, two viable worlds into parallel, if only for a few hours. But this is enough. It has to be. Because it is all we have.
Our office I.T. man just caught me crying at the reception desk, a smile on my face, but tears rolling freely down my cheeks. He caught me playing with words. I can feel my story rising, but my bones won’t give it up so easily. I’m sweating in sheer liquid terror of commitment. This is National Novel Writing month and the pressure’s on. Time taunts me from my wrist, the corner of my computer screen, the phone display. Its old dare is full force in my ears…. Come on, come on Cymbria, take me, use me to hold your story away from your body long enough to share.
I am not a coward. But maybe I am. Maybe that’s why my story is so hard. My body knows the truth, that once I commit to the novel, there is no other way. Why write a novel when immortality is a lie? Trends tease, then take it all away. Computers crash and books burn. Why write a novel? Because it is not a choice. It is an act of desperation. One story standing brave before the Tiananmen onslaught of our oblivion. It is the physicality of our body’s deepest truth, and hope. We can try to mute it, tamp it down with drugs, drama, or alcohol. We can lie to ourselves and say it won’t mean anything. Or that nobody will care. Money? In this age of cheapened, transient words, money is a mockery of motivation.
If you’re already writing this November for NaNoWriMo, I am in awe of your bravery. My own novel is taking me on a far longer journey – damn it! We want to connect, to time, to ourselves, and to others – it is our most primal want. If words are your tool of connection, you have no choice. What do I want? I want magic, like the first hot breath of a BJ, I want to feel my readers wanting everything I have to give them, and then wanting more. Because in the end, want makes time real, and this is all we have.
Who are you? Right now in this moment – with no apologies – who are you? If self is expressed through thoughts, words, and actions, how do yours line up? Are you… wait for it… congruent? Does your system express an inner harmony across all its layers of internal/external communication. If so, congratulations – you’re gonna get laid!
Heralds of truth come in all shapes and sizes: sometimes trumpeting with thick calves and good hair; sometimes scrawny redheads displaying somewhat disturbing troll-like tendencies. Case in point of the latter: Tyler from Real Social Dynamics. While I would never hold his hair colour against him – I’ve had some wonderfully flavourful encounters with ginger in all its forms – I still can’t believe I clicked on his Youtube sidebar “how to pick up women” video suggestion.
In my defense, as a consummate autodidact I feel it is my solemn, ever so noble, duty to educate myself across the broadest possible scope of humanity. Yes, duty. OK, OK, so maybe I was just a wee bit curious to see how my own game from back-in-the-day would stack up. And yes, I know I’m a woman (ultimate advantage), and a blonde (albeit highlighted – there I confessed!) so I’d be an idiot to suggest the playing field was equal, but still, I was curious…
Oh Tyler, how I misjudged you! Your cackling laugh, your somewhat dubious misogyny, your merciless quest for quality Russian p*ssy (sorry Tyler, dear, but I know you can take it) – somewhere buried beneath the ugliness was… that’s right… a small yet mighty grain of wisdom. Confidence, self-esteem, self-love, and charisma are the trademarks of attraction, but where do they come from, really? The one word answer might surprise you (although I suppose I already let the cat out of the bag in the first paragraph)… congruence. When your thoughts, words, and actions present a cohesive, congruent entity – the entire world is yours (yes, even chicks)!
You’re already awesome because you are key to the definition of humanity in this moment in time. Own it. Abstractions aside, if you sell someone a harmonious system, people (yes, even chicks) will be drawn to your energy and want to grab hold (yes, even chicks). Basically, by being congruent, you’re demonstrating proof of love and successful integration within a closed system, all without demanding validation from external components (aka chicks). You’re immediately offering value to the broader system without demanding anything in return. AHA!
Doesn’t have to be all biceps and butterflies. Tyler tells the story of his depressed friend’s super successful “broken man game” – blue painted bedroom and all! You’ll recognize your congruent self as your most honest comfortable self, one that presents a safe system for others to interact with because it’s predictable in all the right ways without being boring. Unless, of course, you’re boring, but I suppose congruently dull is still better than blue-balled – just guessing here.
Ancient Zaroastrian religion’s humata, hakhta, and huveshta (to think good, to speak good, to act good) and Buddhism’s eight fold path of right ________(fill in blank with pretty much any verb) are similar in their goals of personal congruence, along with most other religions. But leaving morality for another day and another post, let’s just do our best to be our most congruent selves this week. To be perfectly honest, I’m a little frightened as to what that might mean for my wardrobe!
Oh, and how did my game rate according to Tyler and Real Social Dynamics? Could’a taught that boy all he knows ~wink.