There was timeline talk of dreams today, before this posted (I even spoke of the prospect of VIEWING an unconscious) - and yesterday, was talk of literature and sociopathy. (The recorded space persists - see the mythinkspot Twitter timeline) Sam Austen (co-contributor with Ms. Mensch on be space) himself on Twitter - also today poasted an insightful comment on this piece here - regarding Oannes - the Mesopotamian fish god, bringer of civilization. He put his finger on an astute nerve. I’m not sure what he meant by “multi dimensional.”
This dream has two scenes, and the split between the scenes is the division of gender - on multiple levels. - Both scenes of the dream are set in luxurious places that contain a horrific creature that the opposite sex would hope is a non-horrific human - inside the a context each sex is typically commonly attracted to.
The first exotic scene (artfully obscured though a thin veil that the “lookup” menu will clarify for anyone) with the horrible female seems to be Marrakesh - and something like a (let’s be polite for now) a TEA room. - somewhere men would in one way or another get their … hopes up.
The second exotic scene with the horrible male is set on the Amalfi Coast “like Positano” a key stop on the nauseating “eat pray love” Grand Tour. (Pro tip if you ever get the chance - live in Piano - recreate in Amalfi, shop in Sorrento and “be a writer” on Capri. But buy your bathroom’s porcelain in Positano - there - I said it.)
This male creature “was once human” - the author herself a female - logically dwells with her writing more on the male monster and has a touch more empathy for it.
These dream creatures function (regardless of the meaning to the author’s dream - though I might strike a chord) as dream-visualized sociopathy anthropicly manifest.
“Was once human” - I’ve seen the tragedy unfold of *becoming* a sociopath (not always “born that way”) happen to women. Caused by drugs - caused by toxic mother’s “loving advice” caused by her own fear and power hunger - the trauma-panic numbness we all feel as shock becomes in the sociopath a waking daily reality wherein all “love” is transactional and Machiavellianism blooms - as one woman put it to me “I just go cold - that’s all it is.” And then one day - you notice she’s been staying like that - always cold, not at all the person you once met.
The trauma state there becomes an ongoing - steady condition and PTSD has stiffened into Borderline, and the men/women who are on the other side of that need to LEAVE but sometimes don’t.
Unsolved trauma - and the coping mechanisms’ dosing of traumaphilia - leads to this un-personing. Vomiting bile - yes of course - we all feel it on social media - what this author elsewhere call a the “infinite scroll of the Ahrimanic lattice” - AKA the frontier purgatory of the evil god in Zoroastrianism.
The male creature had many eyes - I was thinking of the “beloved” Argus of Hera - the monster of the many eyes.
Not far south from Positano is grand old (and so sad) Posedonia. - now called Paestum. Goethe visited there sailing past Capri from Naples. Paestum has a Doric stone temple to Hera older than anything standing in Greece. The oldest Greek stone temple of the world is in Italy.
Hera confronted the “monster” with the eyes but loved him. When he was sent to Tartarus - she is said to have given memory of his eyes to the peacock - her sacred bird (of which certainly by early Roman times - Indian peacocks would have fluttered across Posedonia.) - and if we are lucky and work hard - we don’t perhaps SAVE or change these trauma trapped people. But we can step aside - and bless the peacocks.
The coming epidemic (already begun) of sociopathy will take a LOT of effort to heal. Aggressive Jerks will try to puke everywhere and harpy women who weaponize empathy will HIDE their damage until they trust their prey to be such.
But two other things were present - the dealer and the sea. One will bleach - the other wash. Perhaps our rooting into a return to Land will to us all some good. “Go touch grass” they say, indeed.
Also a word of hope and a word of caution - ayahuasca mitigates sociopathy and borderline. I’ve seen it happen. It is not some lightswitch cure. But I did observe a woman *stop* beating her husband and (far as I could tell) no longer acting out in evil-Karen tantrums.
There was timeline talk of dreams today, before this posted (I even spoke of the prospect of VIEWING an unconscious) - and yesterday, was talk of literature and sociopathy. (The recorded space persists - see the mythinkspot Twitter timeline) Sam Austen (co-contributor with Ms. Mensch on be space) himself on Twitter - also today poasted an insightful comment on this piece here - regarding Oannes - the Mesopotamian fish god, bringer of civilization. He put his finger on an astute nerve. I’m not sure what he meant by “multi dimensional.”
This dream has two scenes, and the split between the scenes is the division of gender - on multiple levels. - Both scenes of the dream are set in luxurious places that contain a horrific creature that the opposite sex would hope is a non-horrific human - inside the a context each sex is typically commonly attracted to.
The first exotic scene (artfully obscured though a thin veil that the “lookup” menu will clarify for anyone) with the horrible female seems to be Marrakesh - and something like a (let’s be polite for now) a TEA room. - somewhere men would in one way or another get their … hopes up.
The second exotic scene with the horrible male is set on the Amalfi Coast “like Positano” a key stop on the nauseating “eat pray love” Grand Tour. (Pro tip if you ever get the chance - live in Piano - recreate in Amalfi, shop in Sorrento and “be a writer” on Capri. But buy your bathroom’s porcelain in Positano - there - I said it.)
This male creature “was once human” - the author herself a female - logically dwells with her writing more on the male monster and has a touch more empathy for it.
These dream creatures function (regardless of the meaning to the author’s dream - though I might strike a chord) as dream-visualized sociopathy anthropicly manifest.
“Was once human” - I’ve seen the tragedy unfold of *becoming* a sociopath (not always “born that way”) happen to women. Caused by drugs - caused by toxic mother’s “loving advice” caused by her own fear and power hunger - the trauma-panic numbness we all feel as shock becomes in the sociopath a waking daily reality wherein all “love” is transactional and Machiavellianism blooms - as one woman put it to me “I just go cold - that’s all it is.” And then one day - you notice she’s been staying like that - always cold, not at all the person you once met.
The trauma state there becomes an ongoing - steady condition and PTSD has stiffened into Borderline, and the men/women who are on the other side of that need to LEAVE but sometimes don’t.
Unsolved trauma - and the coping mechanisms’ dosing of traumaphilia - leads to this un-personing. Vomiting bile - yes of course - we all feel it on social media - what this author elsewhere call a the “infinite scroll of the Ahrimanic lattice” - AKA the frontier purgatory of the evil god in Zoroastrianism.
The male creature had many eyes - I was thinking of the “beloved” Argus of Hera - the monster of the many eyes.
Not far south from Positano is grand old (and so sad) Posedonia. - now called Paestum. Goethe visited there sailing past Capri from Naples. Paestum has a Doric stone temple to Hera older than anything standing in Greece. The oldest Greek stone temple of the world is in Italy.
Hera confronted the “monster” with the eyes but loved him. When he was sent to Tartarus - she is said to have given memory of his eyes to the peacock - her sacred bird (of which certainly by early Roman times - Indian peacocks would have fluttered across Posedonia.) - and if we are lucky and work hard - we don’t perhaps SAVE or change these trauma trapped people. But we can step aside - and bless the peacocks.
The coming epidemic (already begun) of sociopathy will take a LOT of effort to heal. Aggressive Jerks will try to puke everywhere and harpy women who weaponize empathy will HIDE their damage until they trust their prey to be such.
But two other things were present - the dealer and the sea. One will bleach - the other wash. Perhaps our rooting into a return to Land will to us all some good. “Go touch grass” they say, indeed.
The recorded space: https://x.com/mythinkspot/status/1773026436590297550?s=46&t=R7ZivL6yBaeBgpfl7DKvLg
Desert and the sea - damn autofill.
“Dealer and the sea” - well - we all know THAT happens. (Cue Miami Vice opening. “Nrrr nrrr nr nrrrr ne ner nrrr nrrr nrrr”
Also a word of hope and a word of caution - ayahuasca mitigates sociopathy and borderline. I’ve seen it happen. It is not some lightswitch cure. But I did observe a woman *stop* beating her husband and (far as I could tell) no longer acting out in evil-Karen tantrums.