Gnothi seauton, or the relief of being honest

A regulated nervous system is true wealth in the macro system of extraction and performance we all live under.

The wealthiest people I’ve met are still rabid for release, suffering immensely without the soft sigh of authenticity. To allow yourself to be free and honest is a true luxury not reserved for fools or the unambitious, but can be part of a designed, disciplined life.

It’s the same reason techno fascists wander the backrooms of psilocybin or ketamine-fueled jaunts with any regularity. The reason leftist intellectuals and geniuses seek to be coddled and pet; to feel held and right. That it will all be okay, even if temporarily.

Women and people like me have known this for millennia. As Cher’s mother seeks to understand from the clownish men in Moonstruck after she learns her husband is cheating: “Why would a man need more than one woman?” to which she hears “I don’t know, maybe because he fears death”.

Do you fear death? Or do you fear living inauthentically while alive as a fate worse than death? Isn’t that the point of the pursuit of Fuck You money? To be able to do whatever you fucking want?

Yet many remain in pretty jails of their own making, aching aching aching for someone to see them as they are.

Is this you? Wouldn’t you be a better husband, son, father, boss if you could touch the truth every so often? A touchstone of reality between performing. You may even love (or accept) the act of performance, but don’t you start to itch when you haven’t fallen to your knees and turned your brain off in a while?

Make the intentional choice to gnothi seauton (know thyself) as well as I see you. I know what you need. I know what your soul is famished for. I accept, relish, delight at the idea of you worshiping my altar of truth. The cage door is open, come rest in it a while.