From a Bust-shot (In Order of Influence):
Masculinity = Dominant/Transmitter
Femininity = Receptive/Receiver
1. Chest Curvature
Flat – Masculine
Protruding – Feminine
2. Shoulder Width and Angle
Wide and Sharp – Masculine
Thin and Dull – Feminine
3. Jaw Line and Width
Straight and Wide – Masculine
Curved and Thin – Feminine
4. Eye to Brow Distance
Shorter Apart – Masculine
Wide Apart – Feminine
5. Skin Texture
Rugged with Defining Lines – Masculine
Smooth with Soft Lines – Feminine
1. Jaw slightly angled with sharp lines (Masculine : Feminine Ratio out of 100 = 80/20)
2. Brow to eye distance is fairly short (80/20)
3. Skin is rugged with defining lines (90/10)
4. Total Face Masculinity = 83%
1. Jaw angled higher due to smile (75/25)
2. Brow to eye distance increased (75/25)
3. Skin is smoother but still has distinctive lines (75/25)
4. Total Face Masculinity = 75%
1. Even though they are both the same person, women would find the above pic attractive compared to below.
2. Men would find it easier to say, “What’s up Broseph,” to Brad Pitt on the right.
1. Jaw with high angles, but straightened by lighting effects (50/50)
2. Brow to eye distance shortened due to face angle (80/20)
3. Skin is smooth almost no line (5/95)
4. Total Femininity = 55%
1. Jaw with high angles further softened by hair line (15/85)
2. Brow to eye distance wide (15/85)
3. Skin smooth/ no line (5/95)
4. Total Femininity = 89%
1. Left picture without the bust, and with a short hair cut, Gemma ward would look like a prepubescent boy with a pretty face. Who also happens to not take shit from anybody.
2. Right picture, self-explanatory.
1. Marilyn Monroe’s famous habit of drooping her eye lid to appear seductive.
2. Aesthetics & Symbolism
-Generally any perception altering craft-
When X may equal (1, 2 , 3)
By doubting, eliminate possibilities to a point where only a single proposition stands.
By doubting you eliminate your way to the impenetrable truth.
Three in the morning, I recalled a quote. “Wise men want to be idiots. Idiots want to be wise.”
If only I didn’t know the things I already knew… If only I could unsee the things I have seen. Erase everything and start over.
Naturally, I googled, “How to unlearn”.
Found out there is no way to unlearn. The brain does not work that way. The neural connections are already made, and are in constant use. I cannot force myself to forget something. Also found out, the mind cannot negate things. It cannot destroy something to nothingness. It must work just like conservation of energy.
Then came the philosophical thoughts. I feel that it’s a bad habit to think about things, rather than do things. But I try to believe everything is useful. There are no wasted things, no matter how inane things seem.
Then I watched a TED video on Youtube. A woman named Ji-He Park played a violin on it. I read the comments. Everyone talked about what an artist she is. Praising her. Some criticizing her for changing up the classical pieces she played.
Her performance was… captivating. I didn’t care about the music. It was the way she played. All I could see was how much she cared about her music. While others praised her. I only felt envy with a hint of sadness. Not because of her skill. Because Of her dedication. Of her passion. Of her commitment. I wish I cared about something as much as she did… anything.
I look in the bathroom mirror.
Who am I? I don’t know.
What do I want to do? I don’t know.
I began to make up answers.
“I want to make money.”
“… No, I don’t. I never want to work for anyone. I don’t care about luxuries. I don’t want to work to live.”
Hopeless. I am stuck. Either I live to do things I can’t stand, or I stay stuck. Live a boring life. Die a boring death. Boring.
“I am an adventurer, I go on adventures.” I suddenly remembered. A small spark of hope lit inside me. I was always an adventurer. I was born an adventurer. Somewhere along the way I forgot how to go on adventures. Somewhere along the way, I have become a coward. Always making excuses, judging things, so I don’t feel dumb. So I don’t fail. There was a time I wasn’t so weak.
I lie down to sleep, unconvinced of my nature. I couldn’t sleep. I looked at quotes about adventure on my phone. The spark became a tiny flame.
Five in the morning. I wanted adventure. Go to the unknown. Explore. Feel threatened. Bathe in the glory of my insecure position as a single human being in the infinite universe. I realized, I can’t stay here. I need to go. I recalled all the faded memories of my previous adventures. They always happened outside. Never at home. Such a simple detail. I had forgotten such a simple pattern.
I still had doubts. Reluctant and unsure, I got up. I went outside. It was cold. This was stupid and I should go back and go to sleep…
Drove to a park. The sign says the park hours are 9 am to 9 pm. I think about it. I don’t want to come back to find my car towed. Or having to explain myself to a police officer.
I decide to ignore it.
“Nothing’s going to happen… What could possibly happen… I’m not going to get into a adventure just like this…”
I walked on the trail. Sun was rising. Dew was heavy. I studied a bird house built in the bush. I don’t think I’ve ever really looked at one. I, strangely felt afraid as I opened the hatch. 30 years old, a U.S. Marine veteran, afraid to open a bird house. What if a mean old bird vaults straight into my face and pecks my eyeballs out?
I open the hatch. No one was home.
Disappointed, I keep walking. I see a pair of geese strolling next to a baseball field. As I walked while watching them, a bird in front of me darted and flew away.
I had a brilliant idea. I will sneak up to the pair of geese, and… and… catch one? Surprise one? Wait… what will happen if I get close. Those birds are kinda big… I heard geese are really violent, or was that swans?
I realize I have no idea, what will actually happen when I get close to them. I didn’t know what I was going to do even if I did.
That was it. That’s how adventures start.
As I got closer. They began to quack. The closer I got, they quacked louder and faster. Is that a warning to me or each other? I ball my hand into a fist. If it attacks, I will drive my fist straight into its chest. I prepare for an attack as I get closer. Imagining various ways to defend myself from a goose attack. Yes, seriously.
Suddenly, they began to run, flapping their wings, quacking in panic. They took to the air. Something happened inside me. Something that has been dead for a long time came back to life. I gave chase. They picked up speed in their flight and circled away from me. I circled with them, picking up speed. I ran so fast. My eyes fixed on the flying pair.
Elation. Nothing but elation as I remembered who I am. What I do. No one was around, but for a moment, I worried if anybody looking from their homes would think I was crazy. A grown man chasing geese, laughing like a maniac. The next moment, I did not care.
Out of breath, I stopped. The pair landed in a field, safely away from me.
I drive back home. Content. Giddy. Smiling. I need more. Something bigger. Something grander.
As I relive the moments in writing, I wonder what the geese were quacking to each other about.
<In Family Guy, Brian’s voice>
“What the fuck, Tom.. Do you see that human? What’s he doing? What the fuck?”
“I don’t know, Dave… Is he… Is he coming towards us… no… he wouldn’t. Who does that?”
“I don’t know, bro. This has never happened to me. Not this early in the morning. This one is obviously crazy. We need to get the fuck outta here.”
“Oh shit! Oh shit! He’s close! He’s close!”
“Fly dammit! Fly!”
… Everyone involved had an adventure.
Congratulations! You’ve EASed. Welcome back to the real world!
Here are some things you need to know:
1. Go back if you can.
Majority of service members realize how shitty it is out here and decide to go back. You’ll catch some shit from your ‘peers’ for chickening out of the great challenge that is the civilian world, and your butt-buddy, Lance Corporal Schmuckatelli, who got busted down for numerous stupid shit, will point and laugh at you for coming back in XX days, but it’s worth it.
If you are up to the challenge…:
1. Get set up with your local VA.
You’re a goddamn retard if you haven’t, and a kind soul needs to grab your dumb ass by the throat, strap you down in their car, drive you to the VA, and set you up with a case worker who will help you get your shit together in civilized society.
2. Accept that you’re not in the military anymore.
The way you talk, walk, and your latest fashionable regulation hair-cut makes you stand out like a green dick in a box full of pink dicks… you freak. Not telling you to change yourself, the point of accepting you’re a civilian is to lower your expectations and standards for other people, especially work-ethics. There’s a reason why everyone seems dumb and slow out here, their life doesn’t depend on it, and now, neither does yours.
Then again, I’ve occasionally met people that were squared away beyond what I would be capable of — without having military experience. So keep an open mind about people.
What comes next?
So, you’re all set up? Got a job? Got an apartment? Maybe you went back to your hometown and got back together with your ex, or a high school sweet heart and plan on making little babies? If you are the adventurous sort, maybe you went to a place you’ve never been before. Maybe you decided to drift for a while. Regardless, unless you got some stellar family members that really know what they need to do to support you, you’re going to face some hardcore emotional problems. Hence the point of this informative literature. Emotional Fitness.
What is Emotional Fitness?
Just like physical fitness is about controlling your body, emotional fitness is about controlling your feelings. Yeah, yeah, you’re a tough motherfucker and feelings are for women and children. Unless you’re a sister, then you don’t go in the ‘women’ category, so read on. I know some will think I sound misogynistic, chauvinistic, and other -tics. But I’m sure sisters will know what I mean. Still don’t like it? That’s tough, fuck you.
Why do I Need Emotional Fitness?
Because you’re all fucked up and you don’t even know it. You need to realize that you’ve just been let out into the wild, all by yourself, and it’s either adapt to survive, or go crazy and make the headlines on a local news paper as gossip.
You’re not in ‘the’ brotherhood anymore. When you fuck up, there isn’t going to be Lance Corporal Dick-Face making a joke out of the whole thing, then Corporal Smart-Ass will find you a suitable nickname to commemorate whatever you fucked up on. There isn’t going to be a Gunny Mo-tard coming down on your ass with the wrath of God and punch through your barracks wall like a fat superman to deliver a highly memorable, and unnecessarily descriptive ass-chewing of a life time. Then on a field-op, someone will bring it up again and you all have a laugh.
Out here, no one gives a fuck. Think that’s a good thing? Think again.
What are you going to do with all that anger, anguish, anxiety, guilt, shame, insecurity, and fear you’ve stacked up during your service, now that you’re all alone? No one tells you to “Stick a tampon in it or suck it the FUCK UP!” and no one has the right to. You don’t even see anyone sucking it up, because most people you see, put up an air of happiness and content. Even if they weren’t happy, they can’t relate to you, because the intensity of emotions you deal with are on a different level.
If you don’t feel these things, that’s good for you, stop reading. Oh, and go fuck yourself. To those who do, you’ve always felt these things, but it was manageable when you were with your brothers, I’d be surprised if you’ve even noticed it until some time into your civilian adjustment.
You can try to suppress these emotions, which I’m sure many of you’re already doing, sometimes because you don’t want to appear odd, but a man has limits. It’s going to blow up one day, usually in violence to self or another. Sometimes, it manifests as weird habits that lead to, sleeplessness, hyper-vigilance, and paranoia. I don’t care how bad ass you’re, your brain can’t handle hyper-stress without breaks. You’re going to fall apart. Your mental fitness will degrade, you become lazy, depressed, unable to do anything. Then goes your physical fitness, and you find yourself just waiting to die.
That’s why you need to learn to control these feelings, instead of bottling them up, thinking it’s another challenge you have to overcome. Yes, it is a challenge, but you need to work smarter, not harder.
What People Generally Think you should do:
1. See a therapist and a psychologist.
2. Get meds. SSI inhibitors or such shit.
3. Repeat steps 1 and 2.
Now grab these 3 steps and throw it into the trash can of your mental hard drive. Actually no, try it out. See how it works for you. You get it from the VA.
My experience with it wasn’t that good. Every session I went and every pill I took made me feel like a complete failure. For me, it created a cycle of self-hate, and I couldn’t bottle it up anymore. Anger and hate overflows to people around you, and it got to a point where I had malicious intents for the general public. Then it circles back again to suicidal urges.
What you Should do. Get Emotionally Fit:
1. Express yourself.
Take up a artistic hobby. Painting. Singing. Writing. Dancing. Fashion. Crafting… you know — art. Not manly you say? Get your head out of your ass, masculinity ain’t gonna save you. You need to express your feelings… (god that does sound unmanly) … Grab whatever that bothers you and express it in art, like you’re bleeding that shit out of your system, onto a blank canvas, onto a sheet of music, onto a word document, get it?
2. Communicate effectively and meaningfully in social interactions.
You need to be explicit, honest, and descriptive, when you talk to others. You need to read between the lines, listen, and read body language. Tell them what you think about them, take criticism yourself, and share your raw emotion about what’s happening…
Before you kick some fucker in the teeth in a mild confrontation, think: how can we understand each other better? If it doesn’t work out, oh well, you gave it a shot. I personally give you the green light to kick ‘em in the teeth.
3. Stop hiding who you are and open yourself up for judgment.
You want people that can relate to you? Understand you? Gotta take the risk to meet people like that. ‘Course some people will think you’re crazy, retarded, and lack common sense and decency. Fuck them, what can they ever do for you? Did they hike that godless mountain with you? Did they dig a fighting hole next to you? Did they skate with you on a working party? Nope. Worthless. I’m sure they are worth something to someone. But not your problem.
4. Accept who you are, what you are, and how you change.
The above 3 steps come down to this core idea. Emotional fitness is about accepting yourself. The above 3 are what helps me out. You can experiment, figure out what works for you.
There’s a way to check to see if your efforts are paying off. The proof is how you feel after some human interaction. If you feel good about yourself that’s a sign you’re on the right track. If you find yourself smiling to yourself after an interaction, you’re on the right track. It’s like marksmanship. Do the exact same thing as before, using reference points, then adjust as necessary.
If you are a loner and you withdraw all the time. That’s okay. You need time to get your shit locked on.
You’re a man, not a machine. I tried to be a machine and failed. In Iraq, I used to dehumanize myself and the enemy to be combat ready. I’m sure we all did to make ourselves numb to what we were trained to do. Real strength, a real killer, a real warrior, a real hardcore motherfucker does not make himself numb for the pain. He takes it, knowingly. Accepts all the pain, shame, guilt, at face value, it crushes him and his spirit.
But he carries on for the next fight.
So carry on.
Yes, I wonder about things like that. True nature of things. How things work. Unexplained mysteries of the universe, of being alive, and super nerdy cool stuff like that.
There are patterns, sequences, cause and effect. There is so many of them, sometimes obvious, sometimes insignificant, and sometimes they just appear to be chaos and mayhem. Connections that does not mean anything.
Okay, the real reason I wonder about such things is because I live a dreary life. Not that I am miserable. I simply lack the motivation to do anything, get anything, want anything.
It’s not laziness. It’s not procrastination. Everything is just meaningless and valueless. Calling it depression would be the easy way out.
Death would suit me well at this point, but since I am still alive, I do not want it to go to waste.
So lets get to the point.
My problem: How do I get myself to want something? How do I live?
What I figured out so far about living:
1. Meaning of life is just living.
2. Living is movement.
3. Movement begins by thought.
4.Thought/will comes from desire.
5. Desire comes from awareness.
6. Awareness comes from… unknown.
So, I have awareness, I think, I will, I have the ability to move, you get the point. I have a problem with core point number 5, desire.
Expanding on Desire:
1. Desire is strengthened by uncertainty.
2. Uncertainty comes from the ability to imagine the outcome, which should be reinforced.
3. There are two reinforcers in outcome predictions: positive and negative.
4. Positive is self-interest. Negative is fear. (Thank you, Napoleon)
5. Desire is strengthened by imagining what I could gain, and what I could avoid losing.
6. When both, positive and negative reinforcers are in place, it is that much stronger. Like the total value on a number line. -5 to 5 = 10
Solution to my problem:
A: Stop telling myself I can do or get something, if I put my mind to it. That’s not confidence. That’s delusional. I won’t know until I actually do or get.
B: Imagine all kinds of great things I could gain and all kinds of nasty things I could avoid by getting what I want. Even though they are ridiculous lies. Who cares if they are lies? What does it matter if I get disappointed? I can strengthen a new desire. The point is to live.
So I do this, I start moving, I gain momentum, I keep moving, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, happy ending, ride off into the sunset, and all that cool shit.
Hell, I might even live forever.
Thanks for reading. Well… I don’t really care… but I think that’s what people usually say to show that they are well mannered… or something. That they are considerate… courteous, cordial, whatever the fuck douche-bags do.
What I really feel like saying is, “Fuck you for reading. I’m not considerate and I know you don’t care nor understand. I wish you would care and understand, so I can return the favor, but we are all fucked in that regards eh?”
Actually… I think I’m pretty considerate. I would like to think I would save someone just because I can. But seriously, fuck you… Unless you need saving.
Wait, let me be more specific — Unless you need saving, within my capabilities.