Family Photos and Changing Memories

A black and white photograph caught my eye. I could see myself in my mother, her confident – almost arrogant – expression, large white petals of flowers crowned over her head and the long veil dropping over the side of her wedding dress. “I want to see you in the same veil when you get married,” my mother smiled.

I have spent the last year trying to get to know my parents. For most of my adult life, my relationship with them has been tumultuous at best, frustration and anger often hovered like a dark cloud over us and all due to one significant barrier; our inability to communicate. It was not only language – since they do not speak English – but their identification to a paternalistic culture that I could never relate to. Memories of the way my father mistreated my mother were stored in my mind and there it remained as it prevented me from finding forgiveness and moving on. Read More

Understanding Asexuality

 

If there is any movie that perfectly describes the person that I am, it is the French film Amelie. It is incredibly challenging to admit and indeed with it comes a sense of shame, stigma and isolation, but in truth I have never felt sexually attracted to anyone. I may have a sex drive, but it is not stimulated by sexual fantasy and I am not at all compelled by a need for sexual contact neither do I go searching for it. When I am attracted to someone, it is merely because of a deep need to feel connected emotionally.

Some of us – like me – are not averse to romance and commitment including sexual contact, but only after a considerably deep emotional connection has been created. It is true that I have never bonded with anyone and, in fact, have only ever experienced quite hostile and cruel men that has caused me to further withdraw, however like in Amelie has a lack of physical bonding growing up – a loving embrace, a warm kiss on the forehead – educated me to feel no need for bonding as an adult? Read More

On Cowardice: The Crowd is an Untruth

It is no secret that I find cowardice repulsive and it can manifest in many ways; bystanders who watch others being abused and do nothing, liars who deceitfully apologise or simply excuse their bad behaviour by pretending there is some justification for it. They see existence as merely convincing people of what they are rather than confronting what they really are, a power-struggle where some cry to maintain power and control, others becoming fiercely angry all in an attempt to persuade others to believe what they want them to believe.

I find myself thinking that such people cannot be saved, that they have become so alienated from their own moral integrity that their social deception has evolved into self-deception; they now believe their faux image is reality. I have been tactful enough to make such people choose to keep their distance from me because, frankly, telling them directly only leads to trouble, but am I being too harsh when I say that they have no chance and are digging their own grave?

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Self-Compassion Vs. Self-Pity

I have made a terrible mistake.

There is a difference between self-compassion and self-pity. It is easy to mistaken our egocentric self-pity as justifiable when we act out and behave inappropriately. These theatrical responses are generated because we feel we are not being heard or seen, just like we yell when we think no one is listening. Anger – even sadness – both enable a sense of empowerment when we feel confused and isolated. Read More

Love: Time and Consciousness

According to Descartes, the behaviour of non-human animals are automaton and driven by physical responses. Humans have the cognitive capacity to experience the external world consciously, but there is a moment where – from a child who develops his automatic behavioural responses through social and environmental interaction in a determined landscape – transcends to form an ability to become self-aware, a mind now enabled with consciousness. Read More

Khalil Gibran: Broken Wings

Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow. Solitude is the ally of sorrow as well as a companion of spiritual exaltation.” ~ Broken Wings

Sometimes, very briefly, I wish I could empty my identity, to dissolve any sophistication of thought and be mentally frozen like most of society around me who seem content living within these false facades and who dumb themselves down until they actually forget how to use their own minds, just so this heartache could end.

The impossibility to find a friend seems almost obvious now, someone at the same level  as me, reading the same page. I can’t read backwards. The most dangerous in our society tend to be the most ignorant and I can’t risk being hurt again, but the arid desert in front of me is frightening, the mirage of my own corpse standing in the hot distance singing captivating tunes of death. Read More