There will always be a hater and a hated…

They come in all sorts of shapes and colors.

They just change sides according to who and when they look at each other.

(winflyer again).

The more powerful will always win.

People will always follow those who they think that will give them more.

(Remember last elections?)

The poor will always pay the rich for services or some social services program will pay for the obligations of the poor but the rich will always pay less to the poor due to the minimum wage standards. There is no wage limit going up the social status ladder.

This is the marvel of democracy.

Pyramidal climb.

The rich will get richer and will afford to make better and bigger things.

Better and bigger things cost more to produce, sell for more

(until the millions of poor brings those prices down by buying more to adapt to changes)

and the cost of life will increase…

and the poor will be poorer.

And the rich will be richer.

“And all will be taken from the one who did not produced out of his given talents and will be cast out into the wilderness and grinding of teeth will be heard and all will be given to the one who increased the freely given talents”.

And so it all came to pass.

(I once had a long dispute with my inner voices about this.)

I was told not develop a love for money.

I missed the school day when they taught that without money Burger King would not give me a Juicy Whopper, Taco Bell would not put guacamole in my Soft Taco Supreme nor could I buy my Lexmark printer’s ink.

Now we all can be what we want to be, if we have the money to buy it. Mucho dinero is good again! Wow.

I’d rather go fishing.

Then we all must find something to sell to both, to the rich and to the poor, like services, goods, even junk, anything of value is ok. We must capitalize on whatever is happening at any time in life. The Empire Estate Building, once the tallest building on Earth, was built during the greatest time of depression. It is so respected, loved, and admired, that not even one act of terrorism has been recorded in its history.

Capitalism is the essence of this great nation.

Services are the greatest form of exchange.

Manufacturing follows close.

Don’t know how or what to service or manufacture?

Ask any doctor, lawyer, or minister or real estate broker. They service people. Some seem to do better than others.

Financial institutions service people’s finances.

It is all about people. God works through people.

He services Himself.

(I know it sounds bad but that’s the way it is.)

“God spends 10 years to train a musician, then plays music through the musician’s hands… then sits at the same time in the audience… to listen to Himself…”

(Sounds better now?)

“God spends 10 years to train a doctor, then performs medical magic through the hands of the doctor, then sits or lays down in the surgical bed to heal the part of Himself that resides in the patient” (Now I know it sounds even better).

Then God bills Himself through the client’s credit card, as high as possible to constantly increase His quality of life.

Working for minimum wage services you. You might be able to survive on minimum wage (not in some states) but it is all about your day-to-day survival.

Nothing much can be afforded while at minimum wage…

All minimum wage payments will be spent during the next 24 hours unless you live for free in a homeless shelter.

The minimum cost of life in sunny Florida is $2,500.00 a month. No savings, not too much entertainment either.

The average minimum wager gets about $800.00 a month.

To succeed we must serve many other people and charge accordingly. We must find out what is it that people need and supply that need if we want them to pay us any money at all in exchange for our services and time. We should find out what kind of people, adults, teens, rich people, middle class people, or the poor mass are in need of whatever we think we can serve or sell. It would be useful to know how many people seriously need what we have to offer. There might be millions of people interested in what we have, while there might be not enough for us to continue to waste the time in the same project or idea. Then we shall find how many people would pay for it or how much they are already paying for whatever that thing is. Can we improve what is already on the market? Can we compete with the established services or items for sale? What will be our real costs and profits?

Why go through all this?

If the human specie really needs something, millions of people will be willing to pay for the same service or item. No further test. Positive and negative will exist forever until all scriptures finally come to pass.

Ok, Ok, this is a book on aging gracefully, so let’s get back on track. Writing should be like a musical composition where an introduction is played first, and then the main theme is played, and then the orchestral individual solos perform to bring the audience to the edge of the chairs with delight only to return to a somewhat part of the intro or theme before concluding the song with a splendorous finale. This back and forth brings continuity of thought at least to the composer, but if the effect is glorifying to the song, the audience rises into a standing ovation.

Many more days, weeks, and months, then years, passed by the widows and yards of my parent’s house where I really first started to interact with older people.

Some of those people I got to better know but some others, I never got to really get the kick out from them.

It was mutual, I guess.

Since then, it has been a never-ending growing experience.

And my doctor’s papaya (read: wet brain) seems to be going that way too, as he confided me.

He’s also making a mixed vegetables garden…

We’re so different…

I’d rather go shark hunting… I am so special it scares me sometimes a lot. It also makes me buy books like this one with the hopes I can better understand others, and myself one day.

How about you?

Can you still hear (RAM) yourself talking all that shit as before? Are your inner voices starting to fade away? If you can’t hear your papaya in real time, nor most of the answers for your questions, coming as fast as before, then two things could be happening: (1) You might be thinking in more things at the same time than what your conscious can process. Hey, we are no super multitasking creatures. As yet… We could do better if our RAM had enough capacity and separate modules for each of our different ideas. (2) Your mind thinks you are a joke and ignores you. Mental re-training becomes necessary then.

(Grief?)(Low esteem?)(Depressed?)(Drunk?)(Crack?)

(Overconfident?)

At least this would prove that your mind is still working. Ok. Fine.

That alone is very good news.

Are you familiar with these simple words?

Congregation - Training – Concentration – Meditation - Practice – Discipline… Do you know their meaning, I mean, their real significance in life and how and when to use then properly? The following words were suggested many times by the masters of this planet but that brought also their death by assassination not by unfriendly feedbacks from the masses but from the leaders of their current culture.

Congregation: equals to:

Maintain yourself close to the best “People, Places and Things”. This is standard routine during Rehab Time in most modern recovery programs. This is because if we learn by hearing, we can also learn to be “right” or “wrong” by hearing from any group we choose to hang around with.

Training: cometh from books or from those close to us, we like it or not. By “putting up with people” we kind of end up becoming like them in the long run. Humans give up easily; too easily sometimes. We are “adaptable”. If your local church can’t help you, if this book fails to meet your needs, if you still desire with all your heart to cross red lights at traffic jam hours just for the fun of it…

Ask google.com to search for Correctional Institutions.

Concentration: is the ability to force us to fix or “crazy glue” a single idea until it is recorded in permanent memory.

“I giveth the desires of thy heart” There seems to exist a “middle memory module” where desires are kept for unspecified periods of time but I will not even touch that area in this First Edition of Aging Gracefully. I have not found the right consultant in this area of expertise. Each person I asked seemed to vary his or her perception on desires when the local ice cream truck stopped by. I could see how likes and dislikes can quickly change at the sight of the real thing.

Nothing makes real time front-end memory runs faster than when asked to decide on an ice cream flavor choice under a 100F Florida heat and right in front of 30 different kinds of flavorings and a long line behind of angry fellows in turn to do the same thing.

I wonder… where do we stock desires?

(That means: not those from the head, but “those from the heart”, at least in the correct order of getting miracles.)

Playing music by ear is accomplished as the song is practiced (Read: forced into our mind) so many times that the complete block of data (file) sinks into the permanent memory from where it can be retrieved when needed. A musician will always try to play from the heart, because otherwise, risks the chance for the audience to howl back. Howling back to a bad musician is of bad taste but it is also bad taste for an unrehearsed musician to fuck up the ears of the audience. Revenge is then a balanced act of reacting to the emotional pain of fucked up inner desires accomplished by the automation of instincts satisfaction with an orgasmic like quick release of hidden energy (Cause and Effect 101).

Meditation: is the process of thinking or determining the possibility that what we need or desire to do is possible. Anything that can be “visualized” internally can be done externally if (the sucking if, heh?) we find all the components in the real world to make possible “what we saw” internally during meditation.

Practice: makes perfection. Perfection requires many effort passes to accomplish a perfect result. This means there might be a whole lot of leftovers and useless residues to dump after trying to accomplish a master feat.

Discipline: must be forced. It doesn’t come natural.

I must force myself to force myself.

I must force myself to be disciplined.

There are no freebies in space.

Only the eternal laws of cause and effect govern here.

I must use discipline to mix all the other works and produce my miracle. God already gave us those powers.

I am still learning how to use them in better ways.

One thing I know, if I start “it” magic starts to happen …sometimes… Not always. Let’s be balanced …

To be able to age gracefully and navigate around rejection from those who don’t know they will age gracefully as well I sometimes follow the list below:

To Do:

(When Everything Else Fails)

Force yourself to think in just one thing at a time.

It can be anything. But make sure its just one fucking think and no more than one? Got it, dude?

I know this is easy to say but hard to do. Don’t panic yet.

Try this method of professional music composition:

Write one thought about your topic, any topic, just one.

Then write another thought on the same topic.

Then keep like this until you get used to the method or get really tired and bored of writing.

Go as far as you need to go.

Your own mind will tell you when to stop.

Your inner voices will come out and say: “All done!”

Then review what you wrote, edit what you must edit and the result could be bullshit, a poem, a song lyrics, or the answer to your problem.

Testing all coconuts and papayas …

Is your papaya (wet brain) or coconut (dry brain) still counseling and guiding you 24/7 as a darling baby?

Or are your fucking brains starting to go silent like mine? In the upper floor, are all your questions answered immediately? Is your papaya’s taking too long to answer?

Do you have a papaya or a coconut in your upper floor? It’s good to be able to define our systems. Getting to know you helps a lot. Getting to know others help us a lot in our funky habits of making comparisons and try to be better than others. Pretending to be better than others makes us think we actually are better than others. Is this fucked up or what?

Due to genetically driven instructions embedded within ourselves, we all human beings are supposed to carry more or less similar definite patterns. Otherwise we would classify each family as monsters of a different kind, and that would take a lot of paperwork.

I know it sucks to have to confess we know all human beings are similar in nature.

I mean, two eyes, two feet…but hey, how about the mental things? Are we all supposed to think in similar ways?

Don’t lie to me now. You’re telling me you don’t hear voices? You have never been guided by mysterious “ideas”, unspoken apprehensions, and vague feelings?

In real life that shit don’t happen as in the movies, I mean, so loud and clear it feels almost as in a classroom with a qualified teacher or instructor.

Are we all in the same boat?

Maybe all of us are in the same boat, I don’t know.

Maybe all of us are not in the same boat.

There are so many singularities in bio-genetics.

There are so many different spirits too.

My definition of a spirit is: Impulse, desire, or tendency.

(No Voodoo yet.)

But if there is a pattern for human beings behavior then we can safely read this book without fearing for dementia by induced literature shock. It’s all in the acceptance modules of our brain.

It’s funny, but once we accept something as possible, then it is only a matter of time for that something to be resolved.

One thing I know is that everything gets old one micro second at a time. Life makes no exceptions.

This is why I wrote this book and took the chance to get flamed by those who still think they will never get old and crazy one day.

Baby, all of us will be old, disabled, and crazy, one day if we don’t mercifully die first.

(americansdisabled.com by winflyer)

I happen to be winflyer, the infamous webmaster of the exclusive

IQ180+ Forum Group,

Internet’s Club Dementia Online,

the one who publishes the truth at the expense of taking the risk that some angry reader decides one day to disconnect my feeding tubes, not too soon, I hope.

Go IQ180+ for daily duels @ winflyer.com live chat.

About the Bees and the Birds.

I also wrote this book to share with you the magic experience of having to return one day to the same place we all came from in the first place. That place no one knows but to where everyone I know wants to get back to… is our ultimate piece of real estate.

Is this final trip the end of the journey?

Or is it the start of a whole new life in a different plane or dimension?

I don’t know. No one seems to know.

But this is a daily happening.

Young people do get old and die everyday by the millions.

It is only a too scary and emotional issue to be put in words too often or to converse about it openly.

Is it better to hide the aging issue and change the conversation? For most of us, yes it is.

But ignoring what bothers a whole family has brought abandonment and abuse to many.

My own family left me behind in a lonely Housing Projects unit while they went to live in an apartment on the beach with an olympics size swimming pool, simply because I got too old and poor to help them as before. I became an old bore and a very expensive and time-consuming obsolete person to keep around. They were good people and took care of me while they wanted to do so. But why would they want to take care of an aging person now? There are no laws saying you have to care.

I was told one day at sunset: “Although you took care of this family for ten years until you got sick with cancer you are not of good help for this family now. Pack up your things and leave”. I thought they were kidding at first. I was wintertime, too cold out there. I though an established family life would last forever. When I was told to leave the house immediately, still believing the whole thing was not happening and that maybe all was just one of those crazy dreams, and that soon I would wake up and find myself in the comfort and warmth of my ten years old family group, suddenly I became part of the wintertime wilderness of Florida. I was still thinking deep inside me: Why would anyone want to get rid of such a cute creature like me?

Well, I had no big financial resources then. All I had ever made in life had been spent raising the family group. I had not saved for an emergency like this. I had not prepared myself to endure a sudden loneliness, to cope with denial, depression, and anger.

I had no idea of what I should do next.

My mind was only talking shit and I could not understand most of what that bitch (Read: mind, will ‘ya?) was trying to tell me.

I was not trained to endure nothing like those kinds of events.

To make it worst to the limits the whole thing happened in front of a couple that was visiting me that day. They “offered to help me” the best they could. They “took me” to their home in a nearby town. Then they asked me for money. I gave them what I had. Then they asked for more and more until one night I realized they were crack heads in full addiction. I finally left them too and applied for a unit in a housing project for the poor. I was still in total confusion, still in denial, and cried a lot in desperation, desolation and in total despair and confusion.

I had not trained myself in the art of keeping good friends.

I am an Internet Guru after all, and Gurus, nerds, and geeks are hermits by nature. We think we don’t need people around.

I thought I didn’t need friends if I have a family group to take care of me.

Are you keeping track of all my mistakes?

With no warning or preparation my “Life” changed me from the position of the king of a house to a homeless in less than 5 minutes. That day I became alone and “independent” for the first time in decades. I went then from one co-dependent abusive group to the next; non-stop until I finally came to terms with reality. I had thought I would never be alone if I took care of a family. I had put up with taking care of a family group for over ten years only not to be alone. That is not the primary reason to raise a family. You raise a family just for the heck of raising a family, not for the selfish purpose to have company like a king. But times changes. People tire of agreements. What you though you loved you don’t love no more. That has changed. People age and look different. Change is needed and changes are done. It is so sad. But I needed cookies and sodas all the time. They needed other things I could not buy anymore during my post cancer treatments and disability stages.

Try me now.

This is why I share with you all my crazy things of a past life.

So you might be able to recognize some bullshit in yours now.

There are whole lots more I have to share with you but let’s start with just this set. It will be enough for a start. You will feel better. Later I will write more. Meditate in my bullshit. This is non-technical. Easy. Got it?

Associate those things you can recognize as similar patterns with your bullshit if you think you have any bullshit roaming your fucking brains. Let it all come out. Then ignore it. Punto. It will go away. It is guaranteed in every great scriptural book I have read. Let the Cesar take what belongs to the Cesar. Let the psychiatrists and Madame Voodoo try to make their profits, but for God’s sake, this is easy cake to follow. Street talk mental fix of most mental garbage we can think of.

AT ANY AGE IN LIFE! …

TRY IT! YOU WILL BE AMAZED!

Depression, anxiety, loneliness, anger management is all indiscipline bullshit now to me, things of the childish past, Mental agonies are all a pack of unresolved matters waiting to be fixed. Fix those things and enjoy aging gracefully for a change. It feels good.

Then,

Pass what you know to others

for a longer lasting joy.

This is the psychiatrist’s theme song:

I know something you don’t know

But I won’t tell you

Unless you pay me $200.00 an hour.

Damm for 20 bucks you couldn’t get a cheaper version of usable mental bullshit.

I am on a years long remission from a head and neck cancer.

I was told I would never be the same again.

My family was told many scary things too.

They were told I was going to become an expensive funeral item soon. They were told that I would consume most of their time and patience. They were told to get ready for horrible days and endless nights of agony and to hold their breath at my last moments of horrible death convulsions with loud howls and screams included. But I took too long to die.

That was a too strong scare and burden for the whole family group. I am sorry I had to put them through all what they went through because of me getting sick at a time they all needed love and financial comfort instead of continued care for bedridden shittied cancer patient.

I was not as useful as I was before.

But I remember them because they took care of me in the worst moments of f getting old affect both the old fart and the family. Don’t take this lightly; it is too sad and dangerous to gamble with our last days.

Always remember that our last days

Start today…

Welcome the brave ones who can use the power of wisdom for personal freedom.

That is what we must prepare for.

For power and freedom for all regardless of age or sex or physical condition.

Talking about power and freedom under duress of physical pains and needs… All I needed to write this book were many years of daily embarrassments due to my slow learning and absent-minded conditions (content), a few months in virtual solitude, a home built 1.3G/128RAM computer with a 40G hard drive, and a Lexmark printer. For the first 1,000 promotional copies I used a Savin color monster printer/copier. All while still recovering from my cancer disability and no financial help at all.

Besides…

Besides, I am a veteran of aging at 60 and plan to learn a few more tricks to include them in my next revised edition of Aging Gracefully. Second, because I asked my mind if I should or should not write this book and my stupid mind decided to keep silent, completely ignoring my humble prayers for answers and guidance.

Third, because I visited my family doctor and told him that my mind was not talking back to me as it used to do before, and he told me to stop all kinds of activities and rest, he told me to meditate, to put down in writing what I felt, so others would be able to benefit one day from my experiences in growing up.

In other words, that doctor was trying to tell me that I had grown up into an old fart and that I should retire, go broke, and just wait for death to come.

He just could not find the right words to communicate such a predicament.

Well, I do intend to put in very clear words into this theme of who to grow old gracefully.

Without even realizing it and still making a fool of myself in the process, this whole aging thing got me so freaked out and embarrassed that I promised myself to alert whoever dared to read this book, on the consequences of not taking action on events that everyone but us notice, are aware of, keep trying and trying to let us know about it, tears and all, but to no avail, and to make matters worst: we happen to think we are just being pretty funny about it. Things like women or men above 35 winking at 20-year-old cuties, wanting to start a new project expected to take twenty years for completion, or deciding to stop eighteen wheeled tractor trailers and high speed trains on their tracks just on the basis of sheer will power and meditation mark the time when reading this book becomes imperative in order to keep decently sane during our aging gracefully stages.

Aging craze-fully is not the title of this book or an option to take when things start to get whacko in life. Change is a true option we can all take. How?

“People don’t change, people become and becoming takes a miracle”… But music doesn’t compose by itself and becomes a fixation in millions of musicians and fans after hundreds of practice and rehearsal times” … Play with this thought and you might find an answer somewhere along its lines.

“The Cross event had to happen no matter the Master pleas to the Father” … (winflyer).

Quantum Paradox 101 cheap versions bullshit seems to start messing our minds as soon as we quit growing up.

The variables of the unknown are hard to compute.

(Except when drunk, of course).

It seems that all around us is part of some sort of a Creational Evolution Plan, and Chaos to be God’s favorite hobby.

And all that is ok with me, just for today…of course.

I am too weak mentally and emotionally to fuck with the things of the eternal universe. Maybe I could if I was still younger and stronger, dude, but I am not.

I think I am aging gracefully.

Because stress tends to age me

much faster than I should …

Stress does ages people at a much faster rate than what it normally cause people to grow. This might happen because stress causes the body to overwork, bringing about all the resources needed to cope with the stressful situation and if possible, to solve it. As I am an extreme sports enthusiast, I decided to take a stress trip and test it to the limits… Then I would write about stress and help others understand what this destructive component of life is all about and even maybe what can we do about it...

And so I did…

I didn’t have to try hard. It s just sort of happened by itself.

A little bit of quiet meditation brought enough memories on the stress topic, to fill a complete computer hard drive.

The day I was born I had great stress moments during my delivery. I had come into a world of big people, lights, colors, and sounds and although I already knew about the whole system of the universe, those people around me were so different and strange to me. They were all talking things I later took many years to figure out. They were running around and telling each other things in almost complete disarray; like all of them were going through a kind of anxiety attack, I don’t know. I told myself I had to get used to them or they would drive me crazy.

I never did get to understand “big people” at all.

Instead I am still trying to understand myself, as I later grew up into something that resembles what “those” people looked like back then on that glorious day this most precious creature was born... I even find myself talking sometimes like those first earthlings I saw when I arrived to this world, most of the time, to my consternation, of course.

Learning how to use my hands and feet were stressful moments too. Sometimes I wanted to grab something with my right hand but I noticed the left hand already heading to grab the thing my front line memory wanted to grab.

The whole thing about life was so confusing for me then.

That hasn’t changed a bit; it is still as confusing as day one.

This whole thing about growing up and aging gracefully was always very confusing to me and also for my teachers.

Some things are still confusing even now some sixty years later. I just kind of understand now a few things about the process of aging gracefully and that is what I am writing about in this book. You might prefer to take a self-taught course, on anything we want to learn, like me. It takes forever, I know. You might want to read this book and get some goodies out of it as a refresher of what you might already know, of course. I do that too. I am so forgetful I forget what I read and must refresh often. I think the same thing happens to my pastor because he is always reading the same big books over and over day by day again and again, even during service he must refresh and read again. And he tells the congregation to do the same. This is true.

In no way I counsel. I just report. No forecast.

No prognosis.

Ultimate destination?

Knowledge.

That powerful attribute.

I needed to grow fast after I was born; I used to hear my elders say to me. They said it so loud at times… wow.

Now I need to slow down the growing or I’ll get to look soon like Matusalen at his 240 years old birthday party.

I hope I can still dance The Macarena by then.

Cookie for the baby? … Say mama, yes? Please?

Bbuuuuaaaaaaaaaa!! That was my usual answer.

In space talk that means: “I am hungry; feed me!”

Stressful moments follow those types of socially required getting-to-know-you communication protocols until one of the sending or receiving parts get the message.

That, I knew already. That’s why people drink so much during cocktail parties and political events. They arrive all scared and funky looking and by the time they have four drinks they all chat and act like cheap parrots on a cage.

During those first years of baby nursing I usually got my drinks out of a bottle that resembled a mono tit. Meals were tasty and juiced up. Stress would follow then if those meals produced gas and hurt my stomach, early symptoms that I was not growing as fast as expected, or by another resident of the same dwelling getting angry at my screams or jealous at my cute ways of selfishly attracting attention.

“This fucking baby went crazy” I heard voices say.

I am so hard to be understood by others that I think I must cry louder so they get the message; but it seldom works as expected, I later found out.

I don’t know why I still do the same things expecting different results. They say it is a sign of insanity.

I say it is my evil part taking revenge at those hypocrites around me. Another thing I know, people will either get crazy with me or crazy at me. It’s their choice, and I love to drive them nuts too. After all, I was forced to learn; let them learn me too. I don’t know if that is nice to do. No one told me it isn’t. It’s all about education, I guess.

I was such a picky creature that simply ignoring me produced intense stress and anxiety in my inner systems.

The rational and irrational, logic or crazy made no difference at dinnertime. Dinnertime was all day long during those first months of my already stressed and agitated life.

My mom or dad or visitors most of the time at TV Prime Time almost always dictated sleep time, for me, of course. That used to get me so mad that I resorted to keep anger inside myself to avoid a lovely spank on my butt. Diaper spanks didn’t hurt but humiliated me to the limits.

Cold-water baths used to stop my breath and I hated them.

Afterwards, I learned I could take revenge by keeping the whole house awake all night pretending I was sick.

I still do that at times. People hate me for that.

I quickly learned to differentiate between the residents who could give me cookies or the ones who would spank me if I did not leave them alone.

Compromise quickly became my preferred method of negotiation. Hell, they were bigger than me.

See a pattern yet?

No? It’s ok,

take your time; I am patient.

At 6 months of age, I found myself holding myself at anything that I could grab, take to my mouth and eat. Some things were yummy but those dead flies had a strange taste I still remember. I don’t like them now.

From 8 months old and on I was aging gracefully to the limits. I remember I tried to walk but lifting myself into my feet was a trip by itself. I had to maneuver all my body components, some of which I had started to use already but with no full coordination at all as yet. Learning my body became a daily obsession. I used to love doing it. I still do.

At 3 years of age I was already experiencing a lot of stress trying to resist the urges for eating my brother’s dessert while he was paying attention to the TV…Guilt? Nop!

Still don’t see a recognizable pattern?

Yes? Skip a few lines.

No? Keep reading keep reading…

This machine can write forever.

After 16 years of aging gracefully I started to engage in all sorts of a new and exciting life of extreme sports, work, love, sex, and everything else…

I had no idea I was aging maybe too gracefully by then.

After 25, I then decided to really start aging gracefully… removing from myself all that didn’t fitted well on me…

At 35, I decided to recheck my systems but aging damage was happening already, so slow and insidious I did not had a chance to evaluate it in real time yet…

There was a price I had to pay in order to get all I wanted. I got myself so many things and toys by then…

Most are disposed of now.

My things aged gracefully too as time passed by.

I had to change many and let go of a few.

I still don’t know all I want.

I am so forgetful sometimes.

At 60 I decided I had done everything wrong in my life…

Mental test used: Reality Check Standard Edition.

Results:

At test time (60) I still do not own the world.

I have no weapons of mass destruction.

I have not been chosen to be the Anti-Christ

(I would have played a counter-spy game)

Christ has not chosen me yet, to save the world.

I still can’t walk in water and that confuses me, because I am supposed to be able to walk in water, to the loud and humiliating YeeeeHaaa’s of beach surfers every time I tried to accomplish the feat while fully dressed and drunk.

Geeee… Do you think that maybe if I dress one day like those prophets of yesterdays I could then walk in water? Maybe the dress has to do with it… I mean, like Superman. He always changes clothing before taking off into yonder skies... Astronauts, painters, and scuba divers also must change apparel before performing.

Ok, don’t call the press yet… this is only for professionals. Don’t’ try it at home alone. I might review my findings and promise to let you know if all this is possible in a later edition, like Houdini said before kissing his ass good bye. Did he write a book?

Heehaw, Houdini never returned to talk about the there after. There is something about those mysterious dimensions that need more research into before asserting we all go to hell or to heaven by mercy or else.

There is nothing we can do to buy a ticket to heaven or even try deserving the best of the Creator.

If Infinite Intelligence is intelligent at all most probably He knows how good we can bullshit upstream if we have to, when we decide it’s time for safety. If we don’t go to Him just by sheer mercy, then we won’t get there at all.

One thing I know, I have studied every available theology book and most Gurus’ Internet Reports and Prophesies about destiny before taking this chance to be flamed up by religious fans. I don’t talk religion. I write about my findings, not yours. Remove my feeding tubes if you must. I am made of pure energy. “My spirit will last forever”, God, Jesus, and Einstein said and wrote more than once.

Well, there were many things I did ok too, I shouldn’t complain too much, but there were times I could have done better, I know. There was no way for me to know better or auto-correct myself by then. My mental programs were installed one at a time and they still clash once in a while with each other, every time I use them all at the same time.

It takes time and willingness to pass a balance on all those times of work and games.

I also discovered that I’m still learning how to better use my marvelous body, which I think of as a machine driven by my spirit.

I still love to explore the many new things I still find day by day so interesting to learn and experience in full.

Talking about the mind is another trip. Now I ask my mind what should I do and that bitch don’t want to answer at all. …. Sometimes it does, sometimes it just doesn’t.

I sometimes kind of whine a lot and complain about life in stressful situations while pressing on to fix what I can and delegate what I can’t deal with, most of my upbringing has been a graceful learning experience.

But I would not change anything in life. Maybe back there when I was still growing up, I could have changed a couple of things. I am still growing up, so maybe I should wait a little bit more before I do any changes to Creational Evolution ways of doing things. How about trying to make changes in myself? But I’m supposed to be part of a Creational Evolution Master Plan… or not?

Sigmund Freud was wrong in most things except in this:

“People don’t change, people become, and becoming takes a miracle”. People become wise, people become musicians, doctors, pilots, carpenters, but they remain the same people they were before. They just gain better virtues and attributes to cope with life and manage to achieve a higher quality of life. And this quality of life is measured by the person’s perception of reality, not by any other method of quantization. Most alcoholics become sober but remain alcoholics forever, says the Big Book. Most diabetics become wiser in the use of medicines and sugar intake but remain diabetics forever.

All Global Judicial Systems are based in this theory.

Most religions base their teachings in that assertion.

Most “normal” people seem to ignore it and get in trouble.

Only five percent of the world’s population succeed

in anything spiritually worthwhile.

Become one of those blessed ones now that you know how to do it.

Don’t ever say again you don’t have what it takes to make it.

This book will change your life forever.

You will never be the same again after reading this page.

You might not prefer to change into a monster thinker but you have just become more than yesterday. You are seventy-five pages wiser now. Keep reading to the end and we might enjoy something good forever. Then pass whatever you find convenient to share forward for a total experience in emotional peace and pleasure. Isn’t this what we all are looking for?

Happiness comes from knowing you have done something right.

No change will bring happiness because all change involves the loss of something and all associated feelings to loss.

Becoming involves gain and all feelings associated with gain, wisdom, certainty, power of self, and mental control.

“He that has mastered himself has conquered the world.” (The Christian Bible.)

People, who think they have changed, actually did not change at all but instead became something more than they were before. They can’t be less now because “What we Learn, We Can Not Unlearn”. Our permanent memory systems don’t need to do “deletes” unless hit by a flying hammer or given electroshocks because then it would not be a permanent memory at all. As a matter of fact, a mind that starts to do random deletes by itself is not normal. This is also one way out of many to measure insanity in a funny farm. Alcoholics seem to chemically erase files from memory but after years in recovery those files seem to surface again in usable state. A wet brain becomes as usable for thinking as a rotten mango only after crossing a mysterious line we all see day by day in the newspapers and television breaking news. But those too, have been taken out of mental institutions and brought back into useful and social individuals by simple methods of re-training and spiritual experiences. Who wants to stay demented if there are ways to exit insanity and return to reality? Well… some politicians seem to prefer to stay away of reality for a while and then come back little by little as election time nears. This way they don’t have to do what they promised to do. Musicians also fly out of the cuckoo’s nest and very often, indeed especially during those fast and fantastic jazz solo inspirations.

An Insane Asylum in France

An insane asylum for permanent cases of dementia in France once got in fire, I was told by a friend. Many patients died. Their families and friends had abandoned most of those patients because the healing arts specialists had told them that those patients would never recover. Other patients escaped and ran through the woods. For the next ten years, families of those patients went to their insurance companies to claim their death benefits. As some patients were known to have escaped, an investigation started to try to find who died and who was still at large out in the world. A large number of the patients that escaped, once at large, returned to work and had started sort of normal lives in nearby communities. Some had even married and had children and families. That leaves us with a question on whether insanity really exists as such. Maybe it is just a label for a condition of the mind we cannot otherwise explain as yet. As soon as the condition changes, then any label attached to that condition must also be changed accordingly or we will not be doing justice to intelligence and research.

We will always tomorrow be more than today, by the constant retention of data bits captured by our marvelous sensory systems, censored in real time, reality compressed into whatever our systems perceive as real by the interaction with all the other previous memories all running like a constant background service in the back of our heads, all at the fascinating speed of the human mind (runtime) and stored on the fly in our subconscious permanent memory systems, where our direct front memory scans constantly for data bit compilation into our conscious processors with hardwired programs embedded for self-execution and auto play running all at the same time like an incredible flexible machine only a Real God or Eternal Force can make out of stardust, the most complex and expensive matter to recreate in a scientific laboratory.