God asked if I wanted to be ‘great’ or ‘loved’ and so I replied, somewhat slowly, “great, question,” as He had already turned to go, taking me at my first word.
The Interviews II Vol 1.1 [Inmate 16180339]
He left so many clues that all one had to do was take a moment to observe. But who observes now-a-days? Who lingers, who takes the time, everything has to be fast and synthesized, she thought.
…most people who use the word alpha don’t understand at all- his -our man’s- sense of self, his self-esteem and emotional health is as fragile and vulnerable to her sexual betrayal as her skin, flesh and bone is to his overwhelming strength and violence.
He saw beauty in between the things others enjoyed; he was an aesthetic gleaner. He picked up what others left behind. He, he thought, liked what most threw way or found unattractive.
We are heading for a massive civil war because the scumbags -scheming & plotting- are gossiping and shit-talking and are yapping like tiny dogs provoking the big dogs.
Look, you’ve got clutter of the immoral and weak and stupid, who reproduce exponentially as they are fed and have their asses wiped by the State, and they scam and lie and behave like scum and are allowed to proliferate as men can no longer eliminate them.
… she then took off her aviators and smiled at Blax like a woman who is in more than just love. It was as if she was in deep to both the falls and the stream. Her eyes were blue like noons none of them would see; and the sclera was like the belly of a shark, Jack had thought.
Men could claim to hold ideals, Jack One thought, but those faltered. What stood erect were bones, what flowed no matter what was blood, what could be counted upon was true brotherly love.
He just placed honor and loyalty here on earth, here among the tribe, higher than some clean record in the sky. He laughed with all but the eyes when he thought of what people did and said when he asked for one one-hundredth of such sacrifice.
Men are starting to talk to each other and listen to their own balls. War is coming and there isn’t anything society can do to stop it; for war is the natural state of man.
His heart was sorry for being weak as a child when he ought to have been born a full grown man. He had stayed too long as a child who only thought of himself. He regretted nine tenths of what he had done.
And the funny thing is I could fix it, if you wanted it fixed. A two or three-gram dose of psilocybin mushroom leads to a full standard deviation increase in openness; and exercising of the right hemisphere for permanent central nervous system change.
I often sit home and read for weeks at a time and do nothing adventurous at all; I don’t like meeting new people and I consistently -pathologically- eat the same food each day. And I think the cops ought to hammer the shit out of everyone except me.
“You must get that not all things make sense, that logic is one tool, not the toolshed itself. You must learn to accept that you cannot know all things, and that action in the absence of knowledge is required, and thus must be embraced.”
There’s society, sure; but there’s nature too; and nature lives in here,” he said as he tried to tap his chest. “Society can change, but nature don’t ever change; not in a mere two thousand years, anyway,” he shrugged […]
He was an asset to be used and he had had the bad taste to point this out to those who drained him of each drop. And every man was treated like this, not just him.
He knew it in his germline cells: nobody he’d ever met -outside the Jacks- ever gave one fuck about him. He was a thing to mine, to strip, to juice, to squeeze and wring-out for his ore.
Men are starting to see back into history, down in the genome, and in toward their own souls and can see it isn’t them that are wrong, it’s modernity that is sinister and totally corrupt.
Facts may not care about your feelings, but one’s feelings don’t give much of a fuck for your facts. Those are facts too. The world runs on feelings not fucking facts, he thought.
How can a man truly look at himself? he thought, he has no reference, no perspective down in the ocean dips of relative swells. He sees only hills of sea; the land or any other ship, any vessel, might be close but he would never know as it falls as he rises and gains as he loses.
7
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