The Vampire Sucking Boring Pretense of Romantic/Relationship Head Games
MODE of Cosmic Therapy: The Placated Things We do for So-Called Love
We all play head games; some are just better at it, than others. We work really hard to make ourselves feel important, special, indispensably irreplaceable but at the same time, know perfectly well it's all a mirage.
(One created, subsisted, flowered, embellished and maintained by us). However, as we move along this staunchly irretrievable revealing journey of life, we are bombarded by the so-called hidden projections we "Think" we have secretly held locked away in our heart. These 'visions of pretended precious splendor' are so safely guarded, we even deny ever having participated in the inventing their unexpected arrival. "Oh! We coyly respond, "How on earth did THAT happen" Or, "What in the world does this mean?" And, "Why do you think this is taking place after all this time?" We are so full of guile; it's astounding to hear ourselves think...
Our undeniable indifference precludes the staunch realization in which the veil of our cherished idealized perpetrated hidden coveted reality is callously penetrated. By piercing the illusion of personal vested caring, (in addition to facing the romanced cherished tightly-held unfulfilled dreams from long ago) an irreversible hole manifests in order to free us from the addictive daydreams. Fortunately, after enough pain has occurred, ripping the fabric of the tightly woven held-in-check falsely inhabited dream world (which snares and eludes us) that can not nor will not be mended, we can get over it. We can literally be "set free'' when we allow the truth to absolve us from our own delusions of superficial wonder.
No longer are we afforded the privilege to deny how really disinterested we are in our own unresponsiveness to the 'supposedly' close knit generated world of self-induced dramatized strived-for accomplishment. [Whether that be involving a lost love, ruined business or family separation] Bottom line: it simply doesn't matter, never did; never will.
We must accept the cold hard facts of life! We invented the "I can't live without you" scenario and once we pull the plug of "energy-vested" dramatic emotional fire source, 'It", along with its harbingering effects, disappear. Vanishes, disintegrates; gone without a trace of memory to be had.
In all actuality, we are no longer the person who was involved in THAT particular situation. We simply don't want what we used to want. (We really didn't want it at the time, either but convinced ourselves of the dying need to have it in our lives.) Sufficient Time has passed and we have changed with the seasons' turning. However one may like to ascribe the term: depression, to this indescribable experience, while in operation but it does not suffice.
When we finally arrive at that venerated place where the familiar walls crumble and the voices of love festered support recede, we have begun our spiraling ascended descent into the multitude of the labyrinth vortexes of unrevealed liberating esoteric [bone-chilling] latent truth. In other words, we see ourselves for the first time without the disguises of staged show dreamy theatrics. How long does it genuinely take for us to "let go" of the need to feel special? [For as long as we desire to experience misery.]
It's certainly not easy or comfortable to step over the cautiously guarded threshold of what one so tenaciously cleaves to as a necessary, vital, life-sustaining part of life. But, placing one foot in front of the other without craftiness will inevitably reveal what has been hidden as a meticulously cared for 'pack of lies.'
We don't want to hear that we have lived the majority of our lives in never-never land coveting a secretly held romantic vision of grandeur for ourselves that would one day come to be.
We simply want to turn a deaf ear, prove the other wrong, show proof of sincere validity in clear plain declaration: 'what it meant then' and 'what it still means now.' No. No. No. It was what it was and is what it is. What it has been, it is not. And, what it is not can ever be manifested. Our true infinite desire for things sustains them. Nothing short of the ruthless soul's intent will meet our unflinching sacred human experimental requirements. We have moved on. The "wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round.'
WE have arrived at the place in our lives where we can no longer induce an extended veil of hypocrisy. We are no longer lulled to sleep by the sound of our own voices whispering the 'sweet nothing's" in semblance drone. We are ready to face our inner world completely naked without reservation, hesitation or expectation. We face the 'teary eyed' musicians we hired to play at the whimsical dance we booked in our honor; then, we send then home. The clock has struck midnight and we are alone. We are satisfied with that. Our minds are placidly serene yet boldly unpretentious.
"Now" embraces us with the sensual fervor of wildly unexpected bliss. We have shed the garment of self-compensated despair. We no longer respond to the call of 'desperately seeking relationship' horn. We are disinterested, unmoved, unimpressed and happy. That's as much as we need to know.
We all play head games; some are just better at it, than others. We work really hard to make ourselves feel important, special, indispensably irreplaceable but at the same time, know perfectly well it's all a mirage.
(One created, subsisted, flowered, embellished and maintained by us). However, as we move along this staunchly irretrievable revealing journey of life, we are bombarded by the so-called hidden projections we "Think" we have secretly held locked away in our heart. These 'visions of pretended precious splendor' are so safely guarded, we even deny ever having participated in the inventing their unexpected arrival. "Oh! We coyly respond, "How on earth did THAT happen" Or, "What in the world does this mean?" And, "Why do you think this is taking place after all this time?" We are so full of guile; it's astounding to hear ourselves think...
Our undeniable indifference precludes the staunch realization in which the veil of our cherished idealized perpetrated hidden coveted reality is callously penetrated. By piercing the illusion of personal vested caring, (in addition to facing the romanced cherished tightly-held unfulfilled dreams from long ago) an irreversible hole manifests in order to free us from the addictive daydreams. Fortunately, after enough pain has occurred, ripping the fabric of the tightly woven held-in-check falsely inhabited dream world (which snares and eludes us) that can not nor will not be mended, we can get over it. We can literally be "set free'' when we allow the truth to absolve us from our own delusions of superficial wonder.
No longer are we afforded the privilege to deny how really disinterested we are in our own unresponsiveness to the 'supposedly' close knit generated world of self-induced dramatized strived-for accomplishment. [Whether that be involving a lost love, ruined business or family separation] Bottom line: it simply doesn't matter, never did; never will.
We must accept the cold hard facts of life! We invented the "I can't live without you" scenario and once we pull the plug of "energy-vested" dramatic emotional fire source, 'It", along with its harbingering effects, disappear. Vanishes, disintegrates; gone without a trace of memory to be had.
In all actuality, we are no longer the person who was involved in THAT particular situation. We simply don't want what we used to want. (We really didn't want it at the time, either but convinced ourselves of the dying need to have it in our lives.) Sufficient Time has passed and we have changed with the seasons' turning. However one may like to ascribe the term: depression, to this indescribable experience, while in operation but it does not suffice.
When we finally arrive at that venerated place where the familiar walls crumble and the voices of love festered support recede, we have begun our spiraling ascended descent into the multitude of the labyrinth vortexes of unrevealed liberating esoteric [bone-chilling] latent truth. In other words, we see ourselves for the first time without the disguises of staged show dreamy theatrics. How long does it genuinely take for us to "let go" of the need to feel special? [For as long as we desire to experience misery.]
It's certainly not easy or comfortable to step over the cautiously guarded threshold of what one so tenaciously cleaves to as a necessary, vital, life-sustaining part of life. But, placing one foot in front of the other without craftiness will inevitably reveal what has been hidden as a meticulously cared for 'pack of lies.'
We don't want to hear that we have lived the majority of our lives in never-never land coveting a secretly held romantic vision of grandeur for ourselves that would one day come to be.
We simply want to turn a deaf ear, prove the other wrong, show proof of sincere validity in clear plain declaration: 'what it meant then' and 'what it still means now.' No. No. No. It was what it was and is what it is. What it has been, it is not. And, what it is not can ever be manifested. Our true infinite desire for things sustains them. Nothing short of the ruthless soul's intent will meet our unflinching sacred human experimental requirements. We have moved on. The "wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round.'
WE have arrived at the place in our lives where we can no longer induce an extended veil of hypocrisy. We are no longer lulled to sleep by the sound of our own voices whispering the 'sweet nothing's" in semblance drone. We are ready to face our inner world completely naked without reservation, hesitation or expectation. We face the 'teary eyed' musicians we hired to play at the whimsical dance we booked in our honor; then, we send then home. The clock has struck midnight and we are alone. We are satisfied with that. Our minds are placidly serene yet boldly unpretentious.
"Now" embraces us with the sensual fervor of wildly unexpected bliss. We have shed the garment of self-compensated despair. We no longer respond to the call of 'desperately seeking relationship' horn. We are disinterested, unmoved, unimpressed and happy. That's as much as we need to know.
Source...