sensuality: satan and eve: thoughts of halloween

A gorgeous day today. Sunny and warm. I mailed my time card off to the temp service, then pointed my bike to the river path. I passed twwo young guys, perhaps 18, on their bikes and one of them caught up with me. On we continued, down the river path at a fast pace. I knew he was behind me and I increased my speed… and so did he. I kept the lead but he was on my trail and I never really pulled far ahead. Was he only trying to keep up or did he want to pass? I didn’t know. But I would have liked to have pulled so far out ahead of him that there would have been no question on the matter. I saw the two guys later at the Valley River Center mall and I told them that they kept up a good pace. He was proud of himself and he basked in the glory of my giving him praise, even though I had secretly wished that I would have really trounced him. We exchanged some small talk on the virtues of competition and I left for the inside of the mall.

Walking through the mall I was consciously directing my mind to keep control of itself. There were a lot of pretty young girls around. No sooner than I told myself to be mindful of my thoughts than I notice a woman 18 – 19 years old getting onto the escalator and she was very shapely. Standing there I was aware of a pull in two directions within me. One side was saying “abstain from such thoughts” while the other side was railing about the wonders of sensuality, in just looking at her (this side is too romantic to call it a cheap thrill, though that might be all that it is, which brings up the thought, isn’t romancticism a moral way of being immoral?). I ended up doing both… I gave a look to her body and I also turned myself into the opposite direction and walked off (making the episode brief).

After going around the mall I went to Barnes and Noble across the street. There is a book near my chair , a new hardcover release, calling me. It is called “The Blank State” and reading the inside jacket I wish to devour it. The author (a cognition professor at MIT) writes of the fallacy of three linked dogmas; “the blank slate” (we are born without information and experience teaches us), “the noble savage” (we are born inherently good and are corrupted by society), and “the ghost in the machine” (we have a spirit within making decisions independant of biological forces). I have started to come to grips with these three ideas in my own thoughts recently. It is amazing how much thinking and reading and living I have had to do to get to this point (where I have already internalized the dissolution of the three dogmas). I have not come closer to understanding the Self, I am still discarding the shackles of archaic thoughts and outmoded paradigms and dogmas. I’ve not yet ventured into the realm of new ideas yet. If Truth concerning the mind is something to be found, I am still working on discarding lies and untruths.

I am still reading “The Brothers Karamazov”, approximately 1/5 of the way through it. Currently Dmitri is pouring his heart out to Alyosha. I am reminded of Henry Miller’s writing style by Dmitri’s sensualist rantings.

A beautiful little girl stands at the counter with her father. She is perhaps 7 years old and is wearing a sunday dress. Her long hair is pulled back and is filled with curls. Her eyes are bright and constantly moving. She jumps a little, she has too much happiness within her to stay still. Her father buys a drink at the cafe, then holds her hand and they walk off. Such a beautiful scene to witness.

Later, a group of three men, brothers perhaps, walk away from their table and three little girls around the age of five are running about with high spirits, like infant gazelles on the plain, frolicking about. One of the men tells them to settle down and his voice is filled with sterness and yet is also tells a sense of deep love for the girls. As they all leave one of the gazelles must have bumped into a railing for I see her clutching the leg of one of the men, coming only up to his knees. He reaches down and lifts her up and all of her limbs wrap around his neck and torso and her head is buried in his chest. He whispers into her ear as he descends the steps of the cafe, her sobs echoing across the tile floor to me. The scene is touching. My questions to my own self have been along the lines of “what is the inherent virtue for good (if any) in humankind if there is no immortality of soul and no god?” It is something along the lines of the bleak existentialist and the question of from where does virtue arise. Perhaps my answer was in what I just witnessed.

Note to self, look for info on a Russian painter and a work called “The Contemplator” referenced in book. Is this a historical reference?

I stopped for a moment to call my family I left a message on the phone for my dad. It is sunday evening and he is likely at church. I had stopped in a Christian book store in the mall, browsing for items for him at Christmas time. While I am not Christian, it is an important part of his life. I wonder, secretly to myself, of how much of a factor my not being a Christian (and hence my eternal damnation) is a factor in my dad’s dilligence in faith. The cashier was amazingly beautiful with curvaceous hips, buttocks, breasts, and what a cheerful expression she wore on her face! Oh what a delectable apple in that garden of eden… and I the serpent watching her (the atheist watching the woman within a Christian bookstore… ha!). Did Satan admire the innocent naked form of Eve? Oh he must have! Perhaps he even tasted the flesh a few times (or many) before “the fall”. With Eve (and Adam) not having any knowledge of sin, what was to keep them from experimenting with what was surely natural urges of the body? And who better to take advantage than Satan? But Satan’s tempting of Eve is given to us as part of the battle of Good and Evil, or perhaps even the divine plan of God. But perhaps it wasn’t really that at all. Perhaps it was entirely Satan’s design. He had grown tired of the naive sex of Adam and Eve. A simple woman who lies in bed is okay, but let a man experience the pleasure of a true temptress, able to utilize her tongue, hips, flesh… her entire body in many ways to bring out different types of pleasure that the innocent girl cannot fathom. Sensuality is, then, like depression in that it spirals downward becoming more base and animalistic unles one can intervene ones’s thoughts, intentions, and virtue into the mix. This is where love comes in. Love does this and more. It lets us rise above ourselves. We become more, we see more, it is a possession of one’s own inner self by the other and reference is given to this in our actions and thoughts.

I talked to one of my nephews, the oldest, Gaige. We talked about Dragonball Z and how Gotan and Trunx are about to fuse and become Gotenks and fight Majinbuu. We talked about what he might dress up as for Halloween. I loved talking to him. I miss him so very much and it is during that phone call that I thought of living in Mississippi so that I could be a part of his life. But there is nothing in Mississippi that calls me… save him and my sister.

On the ride home I slowed to walk my bike, revelling in the sunset and the purples in the Eastern sky. The direction of the East is my favorite. For sunrise it shows the coming day and for sunset it shows the coming night with bands of lavenders and pinks. Walking along the path, the sight of fallen leaves, the reds on some of the trees, and the cedars and firs along the trail, I really felt that it was autumn. My favorite season. One of the houses were decorated with pumpkins and witches and I fondly thought of some future date when I too would have a house with trees on the property, grass, and the joy of decorating the house with the kids and living the year through their eyes. I thought back to my conversation with my nephew and the sound of utter conction he had as he told me about how a boy last year dressed as something so scary that the frightened adult gave him candy and ran back inside. Of this he was very sure of and he wanted a scary costume (he is thinking of going as a goblin) and I remembered this feeling of how real ghosts and goblins were as I walked down the bikepath. Looking at the trees I could imagine little goblins hiding behind them, watching me go by. How wonderful it felt to have those little buggers hiding there. And I looked across the small field to the four jack-o-lanterns on the porch, their big toothy grins looking at me over the tall grass and I thought… “some day”. But before I can have a family I’ve got to meet “her” and before I can meet “her” I’ve got to really be the person I know I can be. I am not that person roughly 80% of the time. I want to be that person more often.

It is late now and time to go to bed. Six o’clock will come early for my gym workout. What thoughts will fill my dreams tonight I wonder.


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