I am told that being negative is a choice. Maybe it is. While I was on my morning walk I was being very negative. I was ruminating about all the things that are wrong. My unhappy life. My miserable marriage. My dull sex life. My poor health. The stupidity of all the people around me. The ugliness of the houses. The dumbness of everyone in the world. The laziness of my wife. The arrogance of other people. My own failed literary and artistic efforts. My boring life. My inability to feel motivated. On and on these negative gyrations went. My chest tightened. I was sweating. I could not take a deep breath. I felt my blood pressure rise. So I said to myself, “Lets try to change channels for a moment. Is it possible for me to be more positive? To switch my frame of reference? To change out the lense on my perceptual apparatus? To repaint the canvas in my head?” So I gave it a try. I began to talk to myself in more positive way. Look at the beautiful flowers. That is a nice color for that house. It really is a beautiful summer day. What a nice time to be alive. Such pretty clouds drifting in the sky. That is a pretty shade of purple. Oh look, here I am at my wonderful home. I love my home. It is so nice. Such a nice home. My wife and I have created such a nice life. I then walked here to my toilet and now I actually feel better. I feel more pleasant. My chest is less tight. So I suppose it is true, a person can become more positive. I am probably destroying my life and wearing myself down with all this negativity. The canvas that I paint in my head is bleak. Like a Francis Bacon or Edward Munch. But then I wonder if being more positive is really me. Am I trying to force something that is not natural? Am I making myself into just another positive zombie? Or by becoming a happier person am I rebelling against the misery of the world? By being miserable am I just like most other people? Is misery an honest response to the state of the world and my life? Or would positivity and happiness be a more radical and non-conformist response? Would I lose my personality and all the things I am interested in if I became happier? More positive? Or would my life improve so much that I would not care that I lost my personality and all the things I was once interested in? It is difficult to tell what the correct response to life would be. I know that I normally have an aversion to positivity because it feels fake and unappealing. It seems like a stupid way to interact with life. So many people seem to be selling positivity and happiness and I suppose that I associate positive people with giving into this. But maybe I could find my own version of positivity and happiness. Maybe I could find a way to remain focused on what is good and fortunate in life without letting my self slip into obsessing over everything that is wrong. Maybe I could maintain a kind of stoic affirmational quality in my mind without becoming just another cliché happy person. It must be possible to achieve this more dignified and philosophical practice of focusing on what is good and right rather that what is bad and wrong. I am interested in the challenge that I guess I am giving to myself. Lets see if I can just maintain this for today. It is so nice sitting here on my toilet and thinking to myself. Like listening to the best kind of music.
“Excuse me sir but I need to clean the bathroom,” my maid said. There is always someone trying to disturb me from my toilet ruminations. “I am in here right now, I am sorry. Can you go clean someplace else in the house? I will be in here another ten or twenty minutes,” I said. “But sir, I have cleaned everywhere in the house. I only have the bathroom left and I need to get going. I have been waiting to clean the bathroom for two hours now,” she kindly said. “My apologies. I will be out in a few minutes,” I replied. I get lost in these toilet ruminations. Obviously hours will pass and I will not realize that hours have past. I am lost in deep ruminations, thinking about everything and anything. How much of my life is spent in these deep ruminations on the toilet? If I am not even aware that two hours have gone by how much time am I spending in here? I am obviously spending a lot of my life in these cerebral ruminations. Ruminating my day away. But so be it. I enjoy these periods of time where I can be quietly locked away from the outside world, behind my bathroom door. I can process things, figure things out, attempt to make sense of things. Human beings have acquired the ability to think for whatever reason and I am attempting to make the greatest use of this higher human faculty. But I should probably spend more of my time not lost in the ruminations. My iPhone fills with calls from creditors and patients everyday, which I avoid. There are several unfinished novels on my computer that I need to complete. I spent $500.00 on a guitar that I do not play. I should be returning my patient’s phone calls and seeking out ways to create more business. But I don’t do these things. Most of my free time is spent on this toilet ruminating. I am avoiding the world. I have diagnosed myself with Avoidant Personality Disorder. There is nothing that I do not avoid. I even avoid sex with my wife. I am avoiding opening the door for the maid so that she can clean the bathroom. I avoid everything that I can avoid. It is all going to end. We are all going to end up as dust so I struggle to add too much importance to many things. Creditors, money and working more. What do these things really matter up against the bigger picture of an eternity spent in nothingness? If a person can outrun or avoid the repayment of a debt or extra work for the duration of their life this is success as far as I am concerned. Creditors, bills and money only have as much power over us as we give them in our own mind. Avoidance is an enlightened way if you think about it. It is the path of least resistance. Or maybe it is the path of more resistance. I do not know. When I sit on this toilet and ruminate there is no resistance. I am free of resistance. I am avoiding resistance. I am doing what I want. “Sir, I do really need to get going and the bathroom is going to take me at least twenty minutes to clean,” the maid says from behind the locked bathroom door. “Okay, my apologies. I am coming out now.”
Where are the sexy girls? I want to meet some sexy girls. Here I am alone in my new house and I know not what to do. It would be nice to be around a sexy girl right now. To see a beautiful naked girl right now, this would be nice. A naked girl is the greatest dope known to man. It is better than any drug I have tried. There is no better anxiety medication that a naked sexy girl. Why are naked sexy girls so hard to come by? You can go to a strip club but then you have to put up with all the crap. You could go to a brothel but then you must spend more money than you want. It would be nice to be able to go to a bar, see a sexy girl, let her know that you would like to see her naked and play with her body and then to have her agree. This would be a sexually liberated society. But what are the chances of this? Society makes sexy girls ashamed of being naked sexy girls at some strangers house. Sexy girls are made to feel bad about allowing various men to psychologically and physically benefit from the healing power of their sexy nakedness. There is so much uptightness, legalese and fear around just being naked and doing sexual things. I find this very distressing. It should not be so difficult for a respectful man in a new house to be around a sexy naked girl. It should not require so much work. Why are these sexy girls so uptight with their sexuality? It is because of the state. The state (society) shames them into it. But they are just missing out on the pleasures of being a sexy naked girl. Soon they will be old and no one will want to see them naked and then they will realize they should have been sexy naked girls more of the time. Oh well. Wisdom is wasted on the young. Maybe I will get myself together and go to a bar. I am not a bad looking guy. With a few drinks in my system maybe I will be able to find a sexy girl and then turn her into a sexy naked girl. I will try.
My wife tells me that I think too much. I know this to be true. I think much too much and the vast majority of my thoughts are filled with gloom. I think about the worst things that can go wrong, I think about all the terrible things that could happen, I think about my ultimate lack of control, I think about all the terrible way things can end. I rarely have a positive thought. Sometimes I do but not often. My thoughts race through my mind like bullets. They are filled with despair and apprehension. I suppose this is why I long for booze and drugs. They tend to shut my thoughts down. But isn’t everyone this way? Doesn’t everyone think too much? I suppose I do not possess that buffer against the horrors of life. Some people are probably able to think mostly positive things. They are able to avoid thinking about their inevitable extinction. They can think about plans for the day, things they want to do, people they love and other more cheery subjects. Not I. I am continually teetering on the edge of an abyss and am mostly well aware of it. It is hard to think about more hopeful things when living on the edge of this abyss. Maybe I should abstain from drinking coffee? Coffee just speeds things up. Amplifies the negative thoughts. But I love coffee so much. I could not engage in these morning ruminations without coffee. But the things we love are often also the thing that is worst for us. This coffee makes me feel like I have been injected with furious fuel that wires my brain to move at fast and fearful speeds. I don’t like this speedy feeling but I induce it everyday like a zombie moving towards its human food. Granted you could say I have anxiety which is irritated by caffeine consumption. After all, fast and furious negative thoughts are a direct symptom of anxiety. Too much anxiety is a mental illness because it make life not enjoyable for the living. But isn’t anxiety a natural response to the horrifying situation we are all in? Yes and no. You have still got to be able to engage in various acts of self-deception in order to have a more pleasant experience while living. Who wants to suffer as much as fast and fear-filled negative thoughts can cause a person to suffer moment by moment? Always apprehensive, always on-gaurd, always waiting for the worst. This is no way to walk through living. Sex or sexual deviancy seems to be the only thing that takes my mind from it. Thoughts about sexual deviancy seems to be the only thing that backs me away from the abyss. It is true, I do think too much. I am continually thinking but I am not thinking fruitful, positive thoughts. I am not absorbed with egotistical delusions fueled by my sense of immortality. I am not caught up in petty concerns and preoccupations. I am freaking out about the horrible fate that we all face! Why is everyone else not losing their minds? Ok, calm down. Notice that you are breathing in and out. Hear those sounds of dogs barking in the background? Notice your feet touching the ground? Just breathe in and out. Come into the present moment. Everything is fine right now. Think about that beautiful stripper you are going to have sex with tonight. Control your mind. Just chill out. Maybe too much time alone in this bathroom is not a good thing for you. You think too much.
I bought a new house. I should not have bought a new house. This was an impulsive decision. I do not have the money to buy a new house. But this is what credit is for right? Why not use what credit you have rather than just letting it sit there? If life inherently has no meaning, if we are all just waiting in line for our inevitable extinction, why not buy a house? You did the right thing. The house is now yours. You are now the owner of two houses, two blocks away from one another. I have wanted that house since I noticed a For Sale sign outside of it. It is a small house. A house that was built in the 70s. The kind of house Jeffrey Dahmer would have lived in had he been released from prison. It is a house that needs a lot of work. The kind of house where you would not be surprised to see rats running down the hallways. But I do not care. It is my own house. It is across the street from a park where in the evenings you can walk around and find various orgies going on in the bushes. You can get a blow job behind a tree from some board and horny house wife. It is a sex park filled with middle-class, suburban, sexual deviants. It is my favorite park and I am happy that I now own a home just across the street from it. My wife does not know about the house. She will be upset when and if she finds out that I bought a house. I want to keep the house to myself. I want to have a place where I can go and be free from my wife. After all I am a psychologist. I slave away everyday listening to other people’s problems. I deserve to have my own little house. I needed my own bathroom for these toilet ruminations. Normally when I am ruminating in the bathroom my wife will knock on the door telling me that she needs to use the bathroom. If I spend too much time ruminating in the bathroom my wife will ask me what is going on. Sometimes I will want to ruminate on my toilet but my wife will be in the bathroom and I will be locked out for long periods of time. This upsets my flow. It is very frustrating. Sometimes I will use the bathroom after my wife has been in it but the smell of her bowel movement greatly upsets my toilet ruminations. I just can not concentrate. So I needed to buy this small house. I needed my own space. It was a good purchase. Don’t give yourself a hard time. Don’t worry about the money. You will have to see more patients to afford the extra house payment but that is ok. You can make more money if you want. That is no problem. There is always people wanting to pay a lot of money to treat their mental health problems. Now you have your own blue tiled bathroom that you can go to and ruminate. The toilet in your new house is comfortable and perfect for the shape of your ass. You can sit on that toilet and ruminate as much as you want, undisturbed. You can bring various women back to your new house and not have to worry about your wife being there. You can walk just across the street and participate in an orgy in the bushes before bed if you wish. It will be a good situation for you. You just need to furnish the place, paint the walls, do some gardening in the back and it will be ready to go. Don’t tell your wife for now. She will be too upset and concerned that you bought your own house. I don’t think she will understand that you really need your own bathroom. Just keep it to yourself. Everyone needs their own secrets. Secrets make life more enjoyable I think.
If left to my own devices I will drift. I will watch clocks, look out windows, walk around in circles, listen to music, read, exercise, avoid phone calls and bills, bend up and down, move furniture around and sit here on my toilet ruminating. I am not one who is destined for great things. I move too slow. Without any structure I get lost in an undisciplined passing of time. This undisciplined passing of time is quite enjoyable but nothing significant gets done. No novels get written. No paintings get finished. It is a state of limbic hovering. Going nowhere fast and honoring the great schools of doing nothing. I don’t know how some people are so motivated and so engaged. I just can’t understand it. Doctors, lawyers, politician, scientists, police officers, engineers, business owners, psychologists and city workers all seem to share these professionally motivated traits. They show up for work five days a week, put in long hours and work hard. I have trouble comprehending how anyone can do this. The way surgeons will operate for hours everyday and see patients the rest of the day. This kind of focus and dedication is a foreign language to me. The way judges and lawyers spend everyday in windowless courtroom slaving away over various legal cases. I just don’t get it. I know the list goes on and on. We live in a world where those who work the hardest often get the most. They are the ones who have the money and status. Many work hard and do not have money and status but those who do have money and status are almost always very identified with their career roles. I have never been able to identify with any sort of career role. I have tried but can’t play the game since I think it is a ridiculous game to play. I appreciate that there are surgeons, lawyers, radiation technicians, scientists, business people, veterinarians who are ready to take my money at any moment but I am just not one of these people. Why is it? Is it because I do not care that much about money? Is it because I am lazy? Is it because I have not found a career that I love? Is it because I have a difficult time believing in anything? Is it because I do not want to be around other people? Is it because I live in a total state of denial? Is it because I am too lost in my own head? Is it because I am too much of a free agent? I do not know. I struggle to buy into these societal belief systems about money, status, time and career even though I was educated in the best schools. I would rather spend my days aimlessly wandering through the vast landscapes of my mind than slaving away at some job. Even if I am saving lives. As a psychologist I could work a lot harder. I could make a lot more money. I could write books and have a full schedule. As it is I do not return new patient’s calls. I don’t want more work. I don’t want to listen to more problems. I don’t need a greater status. I just want my free time, my books, my records, my space , my independence, my autonomy and this is fine. But I do feel guilty. So many people out there slaving away. So many people dedicated to the careers and driving the BMWs and Porches to prove it. I feel bad that I am watching clocks and wondering around in my hallway (often naked) mid Monday afternoon. I should be seeing more patients. I should be working harder. I could have more money. A bigger house. More social status. My parents would be proud and less worried. I would feel like more of a man. I would not feel bad that others are out there working on getting ahead while I seem to be falling further and further behind. Oh well, I am just not the ambitious type. I am more of a contemplative, eccentric recluse who wonders around his hut talking to himself while under the delusion that he is doing so many different things. In truth, I am doing nothing. I am just sitting here on my toilet, passing the time deep inside my own mind.
I am a pervert. A sexual deviant. These two terms get such a bad wrap. It is as if people think they are a threat to the current social order. I want to start a campaign, “Be Friendly To Your Local Pervert.” What would life and society be like without the pervert and sexual deviant? So dull and flat. I have always enjoyed being a pervert and sexual deviant. These things make life much more enjoyable. The feeling that I am transgressing this social norms and taboos is a fantastic high. Going to places one is not supposed to go is always enjoyable and filled with all sorts of stimulating feelings. Perversion has been around for as long as human beings have been around. It is only the past few hundred years that the pervert/sexual deviant has been made to feel guilty for their sexual predilections. Recently I learned a term. Scopophilia. The pleasure of watching. The pleasure of watching people do sexual things. This is me, I thought when I read the term. How have I gone forty plus years without knowing this term?! This is why I have spent so much time in strip clubs, underground sex clubs and other deviant sexual environments. I don’t necessarily seek out doing sexual things (although I like this as well) but it is the watching that I like. The watching of a naked woman. The watching of naked women doing sexual things with other naked men and women. This is what is fun. And then after I have watched, I enjoy getting involved. But there is such pleasure in this observing of sexually deviant things. Like I am glimpsing into a forbidden realm. Like I am seeing things that the vast majority of people are terrified of. How high it gets me! It is almost as if the watching of sexual things obliterates my ego so that all of my worries and fears are gone. I am fully present just like in meditation. I am filled with pleasure. This is why perversion and sexual deviance is healthy. It fills a person with a feeling of forbidden pleasure and forbidden pleasure is always the greatest form of pleasure. The pleasure of seeing things you are not supposed to be seeing. The pleasure of touching naked bodies you are not supposed to be touching. The pleasure of doing sexual things with strangers (we live in a society where you are supposed to really get to know the people you have sexual interactions with). How wonderful sexual deviance and perversion can be. It celebrates what is fundamental and organic about human beings. After all sex is how we got here, sex is why we are here, so why not indulge in all sorts of sexual tendencies? I can think of nothing more natural in this world. But it is so forbidden. So looked down upon. So feared. Our minds have been brainwashed by the church and the temple to create some kind of social order and control. Sexual deviance and perversion undermines all of this social order and control. The only weapon these prudes have against the sexually deviant is shame and guilt. But I refuse to be shamed into submission. I will fly my pervert flag high. How wonderful it is to do sexually perverted things with naked beautiful women. I will not let these power structures make me feel bad about this. Life is too short. The problem is that so many beautiful women have been suckered into believing that perversion and sexual deviance is bad. They should be monogamous. They should not be sluts (but how wonderful a slut is!). They should be loyal to one man. Women have been shamed into submission by romantic Hollywood movies. It is unfortunate because these women miss out on so much potential fun and feelings of empowerment. There are not many perverted and sexually deviant women around to explore these fantasies with. One must go to strip clubs and pay for it. One most dedicate time and energy to finding it. It is not easy to come across and this I suppose is why most men give into porn. It is easy to locate. But porn does not do it for me. I need the lights, camera and action. I need the environment, the smells, the feeling of flesh, the feeling of being seen. I need to be watching something which is real. I’ve gotten off track. I don’t really know where I was going with any of this………