Saturday, 30 December 2017

Togetherness







Today I had a wonderful insight about what intimacy actually means: Coming from a Brazilian disfunctional upbringing, I take a lifetime to realise how things should be. All of a sudden, for some reason, and I believe it is because I keep on going to churches and talking to churchers, so that God sends me some compensation from my World of Perfection, which is the world in which all the knowledge and wisdom is given to me, I realise that I myself have done something wrong all the time throughout my relationships, and that is probably why, upon maximum need, I don't really find not even one ex-partner who would do what is expected, and get me and my mother out of this. The basic mistake that I committed was not giving information. Today I realised that intimacy is given by degrees of possession of information: The more a person knows about us, the more intimate we are before the eyes of everyone else, but also in our own hearts and spirits. I remember having complained with Trevor that Bradley would call me too frequently for nothing important. As an example of what was not important, I mentioned a tea break they had at his company. However, it is precisely during those tea breaks that he would be harassed by other women. I had no other way to know that he was having a tea break: He needed to call me. I had a series of tea breaks at my university, and not even once did I think about sharing the information with him or did I call him to let him know that. I now realise that I was being disloyal, but, until the last day of 2017, I took myself to be an exemplary partner, since I never betrayed or acted in a way to give wings to the sexual desire of others over me. I now understand that I did not see in that a mistake because my own mother let me in the clouds, knowing nothing about her, this with us living together, only us two. Once she basically stole all the money for my exchange program on the last instalment, and had the courage of forcing me into a public bus trip, crying my soul, to cancel my exchange program. She still obliged me to tell the lady there that we had no money to go ahead. She used all that money for her first plastic surgery, believe it or not. She almost died during the procedures, and I would never find out not even where she was if she ever did. I also had no idea she ever thought about plastic surgery that far, to make it all worse. The size of the betrayal was magnificent. Yet, I suffered a hell lot of brainwashing and went through a lot of conditioning drills in order to think that she was totally sincere with me. I copy her without noticing, and I then obviously end up with partners style my father: Partners who lie and deceive, who betray and all else; partners who would let me down during the worst world atrocities when it should be really easy for some to even save me immediately from all. It is important. I probably notice that because I am now sharing house with a few other people in a more normal way. I had an arrangement with a fellow called F, and I then thought it was important that I knew where T was at that very moment, since otherwise she would think I don't care about him or something. She is the one who found his place for me to live in. I then started understanding why so many people, like Danny Gil, supposed to be my life partner in that 2001, would ask their acquaintances for simple coordinates about other acquaintances: Knowing is intimacy. Knowing what the other is doing is a statement of intimacy, of friendship, connection. I now see things in a completely different way. Shame that we cannot go back and restart, as my own mother always said. This is groundbreaking for me: The Holy Grail of human networking studies or something. Eureka, but I cannot really recover life from the moment it was stolen, end of 2001. I mean, to be sincere, I believe I can and so can mum, but human kind won't, for some reason... There is only God. Anyway, by worrying about that for the first time, after spending life observing others caring about that and not understanding why they would even think that was important, I realised I never do that. As I said even in a blog, not even my mother would know much about me. I wrote that proudly, as to prove to others that the crimes I suffer, those coming from Brazil, are all unprovoked. It is weird when you have paradigms that oppose normal human logic, and you think you are totally right, you hold no problems with the way you see things, quite sincerely, but worse is realising that you probably sounded insane, like everyone else would think that that is precisely why it is my fault that they attacked or something. I now see... Well, what can we say or do after the milk has been spilled, or, in my case, after our own life has been ruined, our own flesh and bones? A mistake that cost me all that life means? Yet, who, amongst you, would dare saying you don't suffer from confusion of similar type, and you are totally sure about what you are saying? I guess only now do I realise what relationships are about. I had a very dear aunt, to me very dear, the only one, from my mother's side, who I thought really liked me, Aunt Ilda, and she did tell me that when she was older: One way or another I took her to mean that I did not give her enough information about myself, and that was why she was unplugging me or something. I do think she died trying to get people to save me from the atrocities, to be sincere, and therefore like a heroin or a martyr. There is only God. Anyway, this is all to say that I now understand that togetherness is something we measure via amount of information held. That just makes sense with my idea about Bradley and Cameron: Upon thinking Cameron knew more about him than I did, I was sure Bradley could only be homosexual. I had the conclusion right, but the problem is the logic I employed, I now understand. I myself did not let him know anything. And, if it is about that, then this thing about how many times the other looks for you versus how many times you look for them does not really matter, but that is what I had gotten from mum's information. Perhaps we simply should not base ourselves on information from people who fail in the issue we are studying. Perhaps that is logical for most people... Wrong paradigms to live for. Absurd. I now see. Shame it came so late. 


I also had observed this apparently senior employee from the AUPOST in Epping: She was the nicest one, I thought. That was because she seemed to know everyone in the community. And she was then always asking the same questions Danny asked. She would turn to one and ask about the other. She was then obviously after information, just like my aunt Ilda. That is how you learn, I suppose, but human processes of learning are really slow, and most of us either never get to the right conclusions during the term of their lives or, when we get there, it is too late, all unfixable. By the way, I could only get to these conclusions because it is really impossible that I have any sexual interest in the people I am sharing house with. The concern with impressing others made me get there, what is interesting. I never thought we should worry about impressing anyone. Yet, I have been paying more and more attention to others, since I cannot live, just observe life, and all worry exclusively about that in Australia: How am I coming across? Good learning, good lesson, wrong way to learn, too late for the intended purposes. This Holy Grail of life could have saved my existence entirely if coming in due time. I obviously should have shared with Sever that I was going to submit my article on The Sorites. I obviously should have given the talk he wanted me to give there, at VUT, on my Sorites. That was obviously about togetherness, about the group being a group. Once more, disfunctional families of any type, here including only a woman or only a man, two people of the same gender, and all other possible aberrations, would have to be legally forbidden from having or raising kids. The losses go well beyond those I had already identified, and it is realistically stomach-embroiling. There is only God...


By the way, I must once more say that I really loved that aunt, Ilda, but the conditioning my mother subjected me to since little made me have enormous reservations with her. Once more, I cannot really be sure about what happened between her and my mother, but my mother hated her to the point of making me play ridiculous in public, things of the type hiding behind bushes, so that Ilda would not speak to her or see us. In my head, I was always playing my role of good girl, exemplary daughter, and Ilda would obviously understand, especially because SHE OBVIOUSLY KNEW WHAT THAT WAS ABOUT. Don't think this is funny: It is definitely a drama for me. There is only God...


I now understand that if Ray Summit, who worked in my room at VUT, knew something about me that Bradley didn't, Bradley would feel betrayed, and he was actually entitled to feel that way. Before I didn't. Believe it or not, nothing like that ever crossed my mind: Bradley should know, just like my other previous boyfriends (no wonder!), that I don't betray, full stop. What else could possibly matter? I now obviously understand the mechanism that generates sex with others as well: He had more intimacy with the others. They let him know more about them. That is when he could prefer a housewife to me or he could think it would be better if I were a housewife: In the former case, she could inform him more about what she does than I do. In the latter, I could be entirely controlled in all I do, so that nobody would know more than him, say he installs cameras at home, I remain confined. Some parts of what I just wrote make sense, if you understand me. Togetherness may make sex come. In my case, I was after sexual connection, attraction, and always believing, as it is dominant thinking in Brazil, that their desire was shaken or something like that. They unfortunately misguided me a lot in Australia since Trevor and they made me believe, for instance, that they wanted me to be more active, or promiscuous, or naked, like perhaps exposing myself in the window or in a TV show. What was expected was that I did not think like a retard, and thought that sharing basic information about me, and information is not what we think to inside, but what we do, was something mandatory. This is really complex for me to write or talk about, but I hope some of it is getting across right. I now even start wondering about why I would think sharing this with the public would be important, but, believe it or not, so far I worried exclusively about information, and my sort of information, which I now take to be level 0: facts about the world, Science, and so on. Before, however, I thought that type of information was maximum level. As I will die saying, I did conclude that even one true friend would have made me save my life and body entirely in that 2001. I did not have not even one, in my humblest. I sent a necklace to mum during the period, a necklace that meant something: It contained two necklaces, two parts of a heart. The person who receives it must return the other part to the sender if they mean they are their friends. My own mother didn't. I now understand why: We are both guilty of non-relating for real to the other.


As another point, the guy from work who knows he knows more about my acts than my De Facto may think I want an affair with him. He will think that because he is rational. And the fact that I don't think he is rational makes me irrational. I should obviously have no secrets with my De Facto. I now understand other things thanks to these insights.  I am not so sure about why I did not understand them before, but I also grew up in dictatorship, and, quite sincerely, that is like having a disfunctional Country: Information cannot circulate freely inside of your own family. My own father worked for the intelligence. He had legal rights to carry a gun, and he did carry one. He spied on people for the government. He was forbidden from informing us about his actions. That definitely destroys the family per se. Once more, it is all about information held. That should be human right, therefore: That nobody can be forced to put any other interest before the interest of their family or before their own interest. That they get fired for not complying, but that nobody kills or incarcerates them for that. I have already written similar stuff before (exam for a public job in Brazil, case Hermolga and Bolivar). 


As another point, I should probably have called Bradley before, for instance, accepting Ray Summit's lift. The fact that I did not call Bradley to, let's say, get his approval makes me come across as a traitor, as someone who could engage in sexual activity with Ray Summit. In this case, Ray is rational upon thinking that was possible. I did not understand why he could even admit that as a possibility in his head this far, however. I thought like this: Everyone knows my character, everyone knows me, how dare? I also thought like this: This man would know he could be my father, is he a paedophile or what? It is exactly the opposite: If I don't bother calling Bradley before doing, then I probably am used to betraying him, to having sex with people like Ray. If I allow myself to having Ray knowing more about my actions, at any time, than my De Facto, then I am giving him a green light. It is really sad, the entire thing... I also thought like this: I am without my car, I always had one before coming. This is relief, and I cannot possibly refuse the offer. That would be irrational. I now know this is ridiculous thinking, but, sincerely, that is Brazilian culture: It would be irrational refusing something that can improve our lives/quality of living, this in any hypothesis. There is obviously no togetherness thinking of any sort naturally coming to Brazilian heads. I now understand that as inferior reasoning: What we think about is how attractive our bodies are, how good we are at bed, how motivated for sex the man who is with us feels, and so on. I suppose that is very superficial thinking, totally centered on the physical realm of the being, but I myself have just written Human Persona, which is about how many spheres form our beings. This works for a first impression, but obviously does not hold the couple together for long. First of all, as said before, already in 2001, the sexual problems Brazilian men have are never-ending. It must be the place of the largest figures in impotence and sexual disease in the world. I will die without understanding why people would refer to South American men as truly masculine. I think it is way more masculine being kind with women than not. I think it is way more masculine treating women with equality than not, so that a man who does his share at home when there are no maids, so say he cleanses the toilet every second day or something, is definitely more masculine. As said to Trevor in 2001, I also believed Australian men were more virile in general, like taking away exotic cases, like Andrew's. I don't really find any foundation to claim that South American men were ever more masculine, precisely the opposite. The most masculine men on earth, as said to Trevor already in 2001, were the Americans, native white, totally native and white, for sure, since they were way more romantic, family-centered, and also way more into equality between genders and all else. Brazilian men are so nothing in terms of masculinity that they attack me internationally all these years, unconstitutionally and illegally, being even congressmen, such as Gabeira (since 2005 knows of all from seeing, and has done absolutely nothing to stop it, save me, publish about it, and so on). 


As you can read in The Power of One, I concluded that things exist by the duos: Macro and micro levels. I now am totally sure that investing in relating to a single person in a proper way makes more sense than investing in relating to plenty in an improper way. Yet, my entire life, I wanted to be popular at almost any expense, knowing heaps of people, making sure everyone knew me (?). I had plenty of opportunities to properly relate to quite a few, but I tended to nullify myself on each one of those opportunities in the name of a good time (that meant no fights, nobody irritated with the other, and things like that). That meant I wasted the opportunities in their totality, unfortunately. Yet, you can literally see in my head that I thought I was doing the best that could be done with what I had, since all I realistically worried about in life was optimisation. There is only God...






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