Lol, thank you.
Welcome, whigger.
We all need lies to get by.
Do we?
What lies do you need?
I don’t really think you do, by the way. But which lies do you think you need to get by?
you’ve returned to sadness. Doom and gloom.
What was it you wanted from the man? Tell me.
What is it you seek in others?
From whom?
We seek all sorts of things from others.
From the man you seek appraisal from.
Strangers are poor substitutes for him.
Ah. That man is dead.
And yet it is still from him you seek approval.
A high evaluation.
When the man dies, the boy never grows…never goes through the rituals of ascent towards manhood. He stays there, retarded in its development.
I knew another man like that.
“And yet it is still from him you seem approval.” I think you mean “seek.”
Yes. I try to live my life in such a way as that he would approve.
But you cannot overcome the dead…because you idolize them.
They are no longer corporeal, real, imperfect. They are sanctified, after death…like a sacrifice.
A boy never overcomes…so he seeks alternative figures who substitute for him, remaining forever a child.
It’s actually fun.
I’m grateful to have such a guiding light.
But I think we all have the capacity to find something in our ancestors worth replicating, worth honoring.
After all, all he did was do right things that are available to any man.
I’ve had to overcome certain things about him. But I have had help.
No, you’ve idolized him.
that’s why you cannot overcome…you cannot complete the ritual of ascent into manhood. Trapped in adolescence, seeking alternatives in narcotics, in father-like figures who take on that role, for personal motives.
Nobody loves you like him. Nobody will ever.
"They are no longer corporeal, real, imperfect. They are sanctified, after death…like a sacrifice. "
It is odd, because it is in the corporeal, real, and “imperfect” (I find perfection to be more useless than useful in seeking) effects he had that I wish to emulate him. Or not emulate, that would not make sense. But, indeed, seek his approval.
Professional help?
Friends?
In your vulnerability, you can be manipulated. offered praise, as a father would…false praise. praise with a hook.
A father’s love is tough love. He hurts you. you must resent him…as part of the ritual.
if you haven’t…you are psychologically trapped.
Love?
Love…
He never knew me. But love… I think love is something he would have been disdainful of. I think that’s one reason I had such an instant click with Nietzsche. Love is so all-encompassing and so, so like candy, it blinds to the real awesomeness of the universe. Or of life. Of what there is.
Who substituted for him?
What needs did you feed into for him to offer you his fatherly presence?
Was it praise? Constant unconditional approval.
Oh no, this I’ve had. My father is alive and well, and I love the old bastard.