Wisebaxter

@Applegarden8 Hey man, thanks for reading and checking in on me. Yeah been having some tough times due to a bad break up and some major betrayal and lies from an ex that have put me in a scary situation. It's ok, it'll all be resolved soon but I was having a bit of a meltdown and needed to get it out there. Feeling much better now. This was me just realising how much I've been influenced by ideas like success and recognition. Yeah I have this idea that if only I was a normy I'd at least have some normality ya know? I do have to meditate more. I get stressed with it as there are so many kinds that I never know which one to do. I get this feeling I've chosen a shit one that won't work lol. How do you meditate yourself?

What a situation. Shat out into this world and if you make the wrong decisions you end up watching every other cu** have a good old time while your life just ebbs away. Choose the wrong partner and you'll get fucked hard, you might even kill yourself, or drink yourself to death like my friend Dave did. Brainwashed by culture, films, assholes on the TV living the lives you want to live. If you're impressionable you might think you can have a piece. That's what Happened to me. I wanted to be Bruce Lee, John Claude Van Damme. Something special. Perverted by the hero's journey. There are no heroes, just people with good upbringings, intelligent parents that protect them from evil and vice. What a dipshit I was. Thinking I could make it like that. Not getting a job. Stupid motherfucker. I'd like to go back in time and smash my own face in with a hammer whilst feeling my own face start to tighten with scar tissue, my own teeth disappearing with every blow. Goddamn it all to hell. What a sheep. What a sucker. I could have a house by now, if I'd have had normal, healthy aspirations, instead of this need to be hot shit. I could have a juicy muff smothering my face. But I ain't got shit. Just useless qualifications, severe trauma and debt. Fuck Ryan Gosling. Fuck every film that's worked it's way into my psyche. What made me like this? I don't see other people trying to be musicians or actors. Well,I have seen them but they're not in my world. I've only met morons. Hopeless, basic cu***, and God how I admire them. I'd give anything to be that kind of cu**. One with no brains, but the right kind of no brains. Who's more of an idiot? The guy with no aspirations that gets a job early on and builds some basic stability, or the guy who thinks he's so handsome, talented and charismatic that he can move with the heavy hitters? When really he's a deluded fool. One has common sense,the other is disconnected from reality. I tried. I Did that. I built a skill.i trained. But she did me in. That....that hellish fucking...there is no word to describe her. She ruined my life with her lies. Man I hate her so much. I never thought I'd meet such evil. Fuck films. Fuck music. Fuck art. Fuck dreams. Fuck girlfriends. I see it all now. I see how they got me. Poisoned me. It should all be banned. It's no good for us. Watching this make believe bullshit like zombies. I have lost hope. I am beaten. I was never supposed to win this. My ego has been thwarted. God knows what I actually need

@Terrelllease@Terell Kirby This makes me think of something Peter Ralston says in his book 'Mastery.' He talks about detaching any emotional content or subjective valuations from the truth itself, as it's superfluous content that actually interferes with being able to see things clearly. This content adds extra distinctions that act as a fog. Easier said than done of course, as these valuations of wrongness will probably be made due to the effect the situation had on you emotionally. That being said, you could notice that it made you feel this way or that way, but try not to let all that creep back in too much. I'm probably talking shit as per usual though. I really have no clue as I haven't even started the work. I'm just a theory junkie. I collect the damn things

@Hojo Thank you for taking the time 🙂 I'll put some time into this and see how I get on.

@Leo Gura Thanks for taking me through this. Well there certainly is plenty I feel I may have been wrong about. I wasn't lacking items, I was just struggling with knowing whether I was wrong or not. In many cases I can't seem to find a reliable way of making that call. I'm coming at the list from a very moral standpoint, as I have a lot of guilt and regret about things. I feel like I need to develop some kind of rule that will allow me to know whether I was wrong. Here's a question then. If we were to have some kind of rule, that would allow us to see whether our actions or choices were wrong, relative to ourselves, what would it be? Something like: It caused unnecessary suffering for ourselves and/or others It set us back in life It ran contrary to our goals and desires and sabotaged them It was selfish and unloving @NoN-RaTiOnAL How can we refine this point of view? What system can we use? It seems like we almost need to create a relative template or a map. What would constitute more profound/nuanced, or less so? @Hojo This is good, thanks.I do get impatient if things don't seem obvious straight away. This clearly isn't as simple as just saying quickly 'yeah I was wrong.' Most of the time anyway. I need to work out why I was, why I'm making that estimation.

Just watching Leo's episode on Wrongness and trying to write this list for myself. But how am I supposed to make an accurate assessment when I'm the one making it and I'm so racked with self bias? Sure there are obvious things you can be wrong about, like taking a wrong turn, or buying the wrong brand of sushi, but when it comes to more subjective considerations things fall down because how do I know if I was gaslighting my ex, or whether she was gaslighting me? How do I know if I was wrong when I saw Christ during my trip, because maybe Christ is real and the psychedelic showed me the truth. We've talked before about everything being relative, so if that's the case, wrongness as a concept is a relative consideration and completely fabricated by myself. If I'm making it all up, I'm also making up wrongness. Here are some more examples I can't make an assessment on: Being wrong about leaving my relationship. Maybe I should have tried harder and now we'd be fine. Being wrong about taking that course, because adacemia is a scam. Maybe the problem isn't the course but the fact that I'm lazy. How do I know? Really my ego is going to come up with the answer that suits me. Being wrong about becoming a Christian. Says who? Who's going to convince me that Christ isn't real and faith isn't a good idea? Nobody but myself. And what if I'm wrong about being wrong about that? Being wrong about that friend who screwed me over. Did he screw me over, or did I screw him over, like he told me I did? You get the idea. It all seems like an exercise in futility, unless we're only addressing really obvious things? Which of course does have it's own value

My higher power is dishing out free coffees now. It came in the form of a girl working at Wetherspoons. She remarked ‘if I was a manager I’d give you a free coffee.’ I said ‘that’s a sweet gesture,’ and she then said ‘shhh and gave me a mug.’ Crikey. Of course I will frame this an evidence of my quitting weed, somehow!

My plan for the future, in terms of relationships is as follows: Get well, attend recovery learn to love myself and build a life I’m happy with that doesn’t require anyone else. achieve financial independence and rent my own place accept that I may never be in love or find someone I’m truly happy with or suited to. Be ok with that and design a life to cope with it, with good friends whom I love and a fulfilling career. attend therapy i will never actively seek a partner again. For the act of seeking is akin to saying ‘my life is not enough’ or ‘I am lacking.’ if I develop a connection and a friendship with a woman that truly feels suited to me, I pledge to follow this up. to deal with sexual urges I will learn to use my imagination again to masturbate. Or I will get a fleshlight or a blow up doll

Today I release Lucie from my energy field, once and for all. I’ve been holding onto the past. I won’t think good thoughts about her, or bad thoughts. I will just let her fade. Memories will surface. I will notice them and let them go. My time of dwelling has gone. I won’t allow these thoughts and feelings any more traction. I invoke the power of the Akashic records to move myself into a different timeline and to end our psychic bond. With love I say ‘thank you for the lessons you’ve taught me.’ With love I say ‘May you be at peace and find happiness.’ With love I say goodbye.

Today I came home with two books. The first, A Study of Orchestration, the quintessential book on the subject, and secondly, the narcotics anonymous handbook, bought for me by Romeo, an ex addict. I laid them side by side and looked at them. I had the thought that they're related somehow, that my higher power is giving me a message - you need one to appreciate or achieve the other, something like that. I told Romeo about the drive to prove myself with the whole music thing and he said 'slow down and find out who you are. What does Alex like? So who is Alex?

One of Mate's patients, Serena, a Native American, told him that in her culture a spirit cannot rest if you don't let go of them. Gabor remarked that's it's impossible for her to do that as, according to her, she was the only person that ever cared for or loved her. This makes me wonder if that's why I've struggled to let Lucie go. Months went by and still I mourned, yearned for her. Or, what she gave me, what I felt around her. Cared for, seen, loved. This knowledge is seems empowering. Know better, do better. How then can I deal with this? To find someone else to replace her? To love myself? To realize that I am already loved and cherished by god or the universe? I'll think about it

I woke up with William banging outside my bedroom door and instantly felt stressed and anxious. It was like waking to the reminder that my space is not my own. It felt like he was doing it on purpose, to punish for me even being there. I left without eating breakfast. Being there during the day right now feels unsafe. In my mind he could kick me out whenever he likes, on a whim. if I'm there too much, if I don't change my behavior to suit his lifestyle, if I neglect to stop and listen to his thirty minute monologues on motorway planning permissions. To steal a person's time for your own pleasure is cruel and uncaring. I am so sick of being cornered by these people, simply because I'm a good listener. I'm standing there, dirty plates in hand, while he sits and talks Fuck. If my reality is comprised of the meanings I apply to things, then it would be more empowering to see this as a good deed on my part. The man must be lonely, in need of connection. I do feel for him. But it all means I can't even access the facilities without the fear of awkwardness or boredom. Instead I'm in the Range cafe, eating a shitty, overpriced burger and wondering how the fuck it came to this. Looking at the Spotify photo for Wolfchild I stop and consider how nice it would be to be a part of a musical duo. Where do I find a partner? Imagine the companionship, the shared passion, the feeling of kinship. I'd kill for that. Man I'm horny. the urge to go on Bumble is always there. But what's the point? I'm done with that insanity. Pay money just to be judged and made to feel inadequate, no thanks. I can do that for free by myself, or call up Lucie again. She's a pro after all. 10 Days sober. Listening to a Gabor Mate Audiobook called in the realm of the hungry ghosts, trying to understand addiction. It's helping a lot. As shit as things are, I am sober. I am a warrior today. I'd give anything for a blow job though. I'd give anything to be naked with her again. I miss her body, her scent, her face, voice. Everything about her. Ole big tits, I called her that to Lee, once, and it got back to her. Fuck that guy. Fuck this guy first and foremost though. Who does that? A drug addict, a people pleaser, a clown, a joker, a disrespectful fuck. This is my inner dialogue, laid bare. I Hope that getting it out and onto this page is helpful. Probably not though, who knows. So what would help me? What would definitely help me? I'll think about it. Right now I'm just grinding metal

I've just watched Timothée Charlemagne being interviewed by Theo Von. He talked about Bob Dylan, how inspiring he is, how he was an iconoclast that carved his own path. He also talked about his own dedication to the creative process. Afterwards I felt a strong urge to smoke. All those feelings came flooding back from my early twenties as I remembered how it all began, this obsession with music and fame. Weed was supposed to be my golden ticket, so why have I quit? how am I supposed to make original, captivating art without it, without the level of intoxication and immersion it provides? Should I block Pat and change my number? Maybe Triss is up late... Then it occurred to me...this is fucking insanity. I'm 44, I was supposed to have made it by now. This isn't playing out right. I am obsessed. The last twenty years have passed in a haze. I can feel the obsession burning deep within me, the yearning, the mad itch...I need to show that bitch, show all those motherfuckers who I am, what I can do. I need them all to feel regret, to realise they fucked up by doubting me. I need her to say 'I should have trusted him. I was living with a modern day genius and I was too stupid to see it. Why am I so fucking STUPID. Maybe I can get him back....I'll reach out....ah shit it's too late, he's not even contactable now through normal means. Probably has an agent. Did all of this really happen because I was so unseen? Do I really crave the attention of the known cosmos because my pappy didn't ask me enough questions, pay enough interest? Well....I guess I should calm down on the swearing. Sweet boy, so innocent. I see you. You are talented you know. I am your harshest critique but I will say, you are. But you're also sick. Sick with fantasies, detached from the present moment, from your very being, which is never enough. Just an asshole in a room, whom nobody sees. All Eyez on me.....would be a fine thing...wouldn't it? Perhaps I'll start with my own eyez and go from there. I feel this sense of lacking, dissatisfaction, eating away at me. What can I add to me? Money....oh yes money....attention, admiration....things, cars, clothes...they'd all look then. They'd look and say 'he's a success,' instead of 'he's an old pervert' Women would see me step out of my sweet ass whip and say 'I want his babies, how much for a pint of his semen?' I will chase, and chase...and maybe I will succeed at getting paid...but will I be satisfied? Based on every bit of sage advice ever handed down by anyone who's actually been there, no. I will keep on striving to fill that hole. Money won't ultimately satisfy, because after all it's attention I want. But how much attention? City wide, nation-wide? global? When will it end? I still don't understand it all fully, the drive, where it came from, but I know something, I am not happy with who I am, where I am. I am not grateful. What a naughty spiritual sin. What a crock of shit. What a goddamn lie. Fuck this society, fuck my parents, for infecting me with this illness. Who's the asshole now though? Who's the one picking at the wound? FUCK THAT. no more. It's time to turn inwards, properly. I need peace, self-love, gratitude and I need to feel like I am ENOUGH, right NOW. Right NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW. If I'm only striving to produce art to prove myself, then what's the point? What a dead-end. What a betrayal of nature, of the creative impulse itself. For me death equals admitting I've wasted time. That's what keeps me going. Throw it all away now.... Everything unnecessary. It's only going to land me back on drugs. They ain't no golden ticket. Only a ticket to misery, ill health, weakness and self loathing. If I need to slowly kill myself to succeed, then I'll sit with failure. I'll put the kettle on for it. I am not advocating throwing it all away. I will not make rash decisions. I am too confused and blinded by concepts to see clearly. If it has to be thrown away then so be it. But I would like to change my relationship with it all. That's what I'd like. But what I need....that could end up being different. This is my life, not theirs. Not hers. I will not look back in another ten years, still smoking that shit, still weak, addicted, saying the same shit. I will not live with regret in my old age. That's where I'm headed, I'll say 'I wish I could have quit the drugs...my life could have been so different.' No, I will look back and say 'Alex of 2024 was a smart motherfucker. He called it. Opened his eyes and saw it all clearly. Boy I'm grateful for him. Now I have an inner peace I just wouldn't have had on that path.' Because really, shouldn't this be the bar to measure it all by....how happy I'm gonna be down the line, carrying on like that, vs taking control?' Wisdom. Maturity. It all starts now. I will cultivate an inner love so deep, an inner world so beautiful and blissful, that nothing fucking matters. I will fall in love with myself, with life, with being. I will not stake my happiness on some imaginary future event. This is MADNESS. I will create an inner world that shines. I will accept and love all parts of myself. It ends here. And so it begins. There is one place that I have not looked....it is there, only there, that I shall find....the master

Tonight I sat and watched the moon appear from behind the clouds, amidst a clear, starlit sky

So far I've been following the plan above pretty accurately. I did backslide on the porn, but by it's about improvement, not perfection. I feel like my body was craving a dopamine hit so I let it happen. Rather that than buy weed. Today, whilst working, I felt the pull to smoke. It's so tied in with that behavior. Wouldn't it be nice to just feel the weed wash over me, to feel the added stimulation it offers while I create, the extra excitement, the extra focus. But is this an illusion? Really how excited was I? How much did it really aid my focus? I remember the pull to play games, watch films. I also remember the frustration of feeling trapped by the habit, along with the over thinking and anxiety. I can feel the harsh burn on my lungs as I suck on that pipe, I can taste the acrid smoke and the chemicals. Did William smell it this time? Is that why he's outside? Again and again I would need to get up and take a hit, with no respite. Hiding it whilst out, ducking into alleyways. What a burden. But still I feel the pull. Why? Because something is missing. Something just feels, hollow. If I was high now I wouldn't be able to sit and just be. Morbid thoughts would take me over. Right now I feel bored, lacking, but calm. I feel like a more complete person, someone worthy of respect. Less broken. Stronger. Hopeful. I feel like my hero Theo Von, back from the precipice. I don't want to go to the meeting tonight, but I will. I'm scared of socializing. I'm scared of feeling fake, why? Because socializing, for me, always has to be so polite. The character I need to play is tiresome. I'd rather just go there and be silent. Just to be near people. It's all the blabbing I can't stand. Sharing is great, because it's honest. Normal communication never makes me feel real. I miss Lucie so much. I miss who I could be with her. I was completely me. She loved me. now, she says she doesn't know me anymore. My actions have turned me into a stranger. All of the truth I shared, all my honesty, has been overridden, erased by the strength of her new perception. Now, in her mind I'm the guy who shows his friends intimate videos of his ex. I'm a liar, a cheat, a narcissist. I hope that one day she can see me again, in her mind. To be seen.....then to be lost...is heartbreaking. I must not do the same. I must not reduce her to her words, spoken in anger. I am still sober. I am still winning.