so i can just pretend
that these things happen to me
i watch until
-the end
______________________________
___________________________________
[i] martino, j. (12.31-2.2024). in-flight move-ie. book 121: opportunity (on deck). © 2024 by j. martino.
"...or (later in life) you'll be eating your medicine as food."
-jordan peterson said that, and i'm not sure if he was quoting someone else.
in a conscious Uni/Mega-Verse, atoms do not 'die' but (rather) are trans-formed. me-mories, awareness and a sense of separate self (ego) simply morph.
we do not 'die' in the sense of 'end'. our atomic self-awareness shifts into more of a Holistic Reality, kind of like actors (after the Play is over).
-the beginning?
the sad truth is...
if you are (or if you have allowed yourself to become) her beta male, then she is openly flirting with me (and she would take me into a back-room right now)... if she could get away with it.
money doesn't matter. your prior investments don't matter. everything that she may have said (to include marriage vows):
it. does. not. matter.
she will cheat on your dumb ass -- with the right Alpha at the right time, and she will probably turn-around and (in her mind) blame it all on you (for not being there, for not being the man that she fell in love with, and for not being _______, etc., etc., etc.).
you will become her reason to (quite easily) negate all of her prior promises.
and that, my friends, is:
the sad truth.
...everyone you know will be dead.
few (if any) will visit your grave... and even if they do, it won't be for long.
think about JFK's assassination, less than 65 years ago. does anyone really, really care? even when some did care, he was dragged over the coals by many, and hated by half.
in this joal-life, who really, really cares? ...and even if they do, they'll still eat and party after your funeral. life goes on, after all.
conclusion: why do anything on account of what others might think?
:)
* of course, i'm including myself in this mix.
** in the original writing (on a postcard) the first 'neau' was actually the name of the parakeet who used to fly freely in the kitchen.