Selling vulnerability. Selling identity. Selling that good good.
I swear this is the best you ever had. Its the only thing worth having in a post-modern panic.
Ta eis heuton: I am tired of being serious. I am tired of being sincere. I am full of it. Often. Both sincerity, and bullshit. Sometimes the two get conflated. And that becomes such a ripe pile that I just can’t risk to let it seep out. So I just break it all apart. Stamp it all down. Defile myself every chance I get, let doubt shape me. Truth is nothing without doubt. And it’s also why we can’t have nice things, like certainty and God…
Hermes: To cringe or not to cringe, or to cringe so hard it starts to feel like something. To cringe right through sincerity, past absurdity, and into something that is actually real. Really really real.
Just kidding. I am just a bug.
I met this chick. Her name was Asta. You say it with an Ahh, at the front. She told me about her work and now I live at her community house.
Asta: Let me tell you about how the seventh house is affecting your relationships. Please let me tell you. Let me help you. Let me make sense of your life for you. Let me convince you that everything out there doesn’t make sense, and what I have to say does. I mean just look at my eyes staring into your soul. Just hear my voice, how it rises and falls and litls in such a manner that could not be anything but TRUTH. Let me sell it to you. Let me tell you all about how it changed my life, and how great I feel, and how amazing sex is in the huge house I pay for by being aligned with my authentic self. Please let me tell you about it. Sit down, drink this tea, its from some place exotic, its good for the nerves you get from out there where everybody is so fake, so plugged in, into the matrix.
It’s all an illusion.
Don’t you know?
Man.
*Coughs on the good good.*
I want you to be free. I want you to be brave. I want you to live your life AUTHENTICALLY. As yourself. As your neurodivergent self, as your queer self, as your unique YOU. And THIS is who you really are. This is who you have always been.
*shows an entirely incomprehensible image of some esoteric scribblings*
*you gasp*
This is you. The true you. I see you. Like nobody has ever seen you. Your parents don’t know you, society doesn’t know you. Nobody knows you. I see you though. and this is you.
*you sob uncontrollably. you have always felt misunderstood.*
Good. Good. Let your emotions out. You have been repressing them your whole life. In fact you have never really felt before. It was all numbness, but now you feel. You should go tell everybody who made you feel bad to fuck off. That’s right. Just let it all out. Beat the ground. Wail. It will feel good to let it all out. And I am the only one that sees it. Everybody else will think you are nuts. Not me. You are acting normal. Everybody out there is nuts.
Buy my program now.
Once you do, you will know who you are. You will know where you belong. You will have the secret. Yes it will take years and thousands upon thousands. But it’s worth it. You are worth it. Charge your worth. In fact I think you could do what I do. I see something in you. I see something so fierce and powerful just wanting to get out. Don’t you feel it? You don’t? Why? It’s so clearly there.
You have blocks. It’s okay. I did too. I still do sometimes. I am human after all. We all are. haha. It’s okay to have blocks. But you also need to not have them if you want any chance of being happy. Don’t worry though, I know how to do that. It is what I was trained to do. For years. In the jungle. With the people who know how to do it, who learned how to do it in California on a retreat that was amazing. Wow so amazing, under the stars, with bright faces all being their best selves. You can be that too.
You should start by being vulnerable. All the time. Everywhere. Tell your truth no matter what. Everything you feel and think is TRUE. Nobody can tell you otherwise. It is, after all, Your Truth. Fuck what anybody else thinks. Doesn’t that feel great. Fucking what everybody else thinks? Yeah.
I am so glad I found you. You’re a star.
Wow, look at how many people resonate with you. Look at how many likes you get when you post yourself being vulnerable. You even got a little poetry in you to share. Leverage that. See. It’s true. You should sell it all and earn your aquarian birthright. Sell it in a course. In a post. In a mushroom coffee blend. Build a community. This is what being a spiritual leader is all about.
We’re all so proud. You are an inspiration. When I look at you I think ‘this is what liberation looks like.’ True liberation.
Crying on instagram.
Te eis heuton: I feel like I am being deprogrammed. Dare I say, exiting the matrix (yes I took the red pill like a loser). Like I am being stripped of a lie that carried me around and fed me like a babe. The dissilusionment is intense. I let myself be scooped up and fawned over, it was great. Until I attracted vultures. But vultures are what they are, they need to feed, I can’t blame them (I already tried). I mainly feel disgust that I let it go on so long, let my tendons be nipped at. I played the biggest game facing postmodern existence, the game of identity and truth. What is real, and who you are. It is a game, at least at this point. We take it so seriously it might kill half of us before we rip of the jerseys and end our product placement segments.
I also feel something like humility, something like sour gratitude, grated up and sprinkled over everything difficult and beautiful in my now simpler life. The scales tipped by an understanding of the confusion zooming out will bring, a filing down of the horns that kept me special.
I have little but vehemence to share, it is what the daemon demands. There are hopeful, wise folds within me, airing out and acclimating, but the page attracts the destroyer in me. The one who pokes its all apart, just to distance myself from it all. To say. THAT IS NOT ME. And I do everything I can to make that so. Even if it at some point I will have to take it into the fold, make whole. I have nothing quite mature enough to plug the void that gapes after the destroyer gets done. A sense of duty, responsiblity, and honor to virtues I admire is still looking for soil to tap. It hasn’t quite rooted down yet, its still winnowed seeds in a bad wind. At least they are flying.
I write and doubt it should be posted. Do I write for that special feeling? Of others liking my work? Do I write because I must. Do I write because it is the right thing to do, the world NEEDS my gifts. Ugh. The world doesn’t need me (but not in a suicidal way, calm down, just in a, I can’t believe that we need the world to need us to live purposeful lives). Need is a strong word, as if one is fated to the heroic journey. The reality is that many live quiet lives of desperation. And we now get our freedom from that desperation sold to us. Whoever sold you their coaching program will make sure you think you are needed, that your purpose will change the world. It’s how the lie works. It’s a good lie. Often worth it. It carries many of us to our deathbed, the better for it.
Selling others a dream of new earth, instead of being of the earth as it is. Instead of taking up the steady beat of humanity that will endure well beyond your life. Instead of crying out for the dream that is already working its way into being. Some become a salesperson for the vibe. We sell healing. We sell community. No thanks. I’ll just keep being the bug. A bug who dreams and gets squashed. At least that feels more real than believeing the lie that is also truth.