Cutting the Horns off the Bull

18.04.2024

Thought of the Day: Can you ever escape from the clutches of sexual repression?

Picasso used to paint male sexuality as a raging and charging bull. There was a Western equation of genius with rampant male sexuality, so it was in accordance with Picasso’s profession.

But if you have a rampant male sexuality, which is on the attack all the time, you encounter a world of sexual repression. Society cuts off the horns of the bull. And imagine if you came from a society of sex segregation and sexual repression into a ‘modern’ world that you thought was post-Freudian and free from it? Reality is shocking.

What are the politics and power of sexual repression?

My Diary

I am trapped in Greenwich Palace as Henry VIII. When you are in a place haunted by the dead, sometimes they take over your body and haunt your mind. What he needed, I need. An heir to pass on everything to. What happened to him is happening to me. Six wives. I am collecting women. If they cannot give me a child, I will have to collect more. Up until a certain point. Then I will have to accept defeat. But I cannot give up on having a child. I will have to get a surrogate baby. I have sworn on my head that I will have these children. If I don’t get them, I will have to die. That is resolution. I made that oath so I couldn’t back out of it. There is no way out now.

Then, what I will have to do is something horrible. I will have to raise the children without a mother. I am going to take away their mother from them. Comfort, happiness, security and love. That is fate. Such is life. In the Mahabharata, Bhishma’s mother who was the River Ganges did not raise him. And he lived a live of absolute suffering. What can you do about things? You want to give your children everything in the world. And you can’t even give them something that almost every child in human history has had. And this is the world that the people who deny you love want you to love.

I am going to have to become the mother and the father.

The question is, when is the final decision going to be made? The heart shrinks from making it. But, one day, it will have to be done. If I am going to be by myself, I need to have enough energy and life to see it through until the end, until they are finished as people with their education and can stand up on their own two feet. So, I have said by my next birthday towards the end of this year. Time is passing away quickly. Nothing is happening. Soon it will be time.

And then, I will never try to approach another woman. Because I will have my children to look after.

If Helen wanted me, she would have done something by now. She is always meeting up with the people she wants to be around. It would have been organised. It is the same thing with Girl 2. I am dreaming when I think about them. Potential Girl is a difficulty. So you have to accept that there is nothing and you are just wishing for something to happen.

When you come from a sex segregation society without any women in your life, you hope that one day you can come out of that kind of society and you can live in a normal life. Fate is a joker.

But the belief is blood is a powerful thing, the belief in dynasty as destiny. I only count myself as a failure if I don’t have my own children. I have seen the racism of the women in this country and how they treat you if you are nice to them and honest. Any excuse to not have you because you are different. If this is what it is, how can you see yourself as a failure? I’m not going to become mean and dishonest. It is the world’s biggest douche bag that said everything is fair in love and war. I still have my pride and my integrity. I am still The Tiger. And Tiger can raise some cubs. By himself. Resolution. In some ways, it is better. They will be my children and do what I want. No one will interfere with my plan for them. My army will be pure.

Diary Entry

12.04.2024

I just came back home from an overtime event – 23.17 right now (diary finished at 23.41). In that event, I greeted and talked to literally every single woman that came in. They were dressed in their finest clothes, beautiful dresses. It was a black tie, glamorous event. In this job, all I do is talk to women all day sometimes. At the museum, them and their children are the main demographic.

Leg is fine as long as I walk around. It is standing still in one place or sitting at one place that is causing the pain. So today I did 27513 steps and I feel fine.

I was thinking about the one single Punjabi woman I ever asked out. I was in my late twenties back then and she was in her early twenties (fate is that I only ever meet women younger than me). She accepted and told me that she would come on a date with me. But then, she stood me up. If I had had more experience back then, I would have just asked her out again. But I didn’t have experience, so I didn’t. I could have had my children with her at the right time. She studied art history at the Courtauld. I wonder what she is doing now? But I will not look her up. I wonder if she ever wonders what would have happened if she had gone out with me? Same culture. Same upbringing. Both humanities scholars. It would have been good. She wasn’t the most attractive woman in the world, but then I am good looking enough to pass the genes on to the children and she wasn’t bad looking. I asked her out because she was Punjabi and to make my grandmother happy.

I am not a coward like the little boys in this country that can’t ask a woman out face to face. I don’t do it by phone or by email. I don’t sneak around second guessing myself. When I am sure, I am sure. And then I go for it. With everything in life. I don’t doubt myself.

My main frenemy was in a really good mood today. I haven’t seen her for quite a while. She was laughing and joking around with me. That is her normal personality. She is back to herself. Was it the holiday? Is it that she has a new person in her life? Or has she finally forgiven me? We will find out.

For this child, I have asked out women that I would never have thought I would ask out. Because the main factor is how they are going to behave around the children. That is first. My choice is second. So, first of all (after being the right age for the kids), kindness. For the children and for me. Then, the ability to converse. Third, looks. Even the ones that initially aren’t my type, you learn to think they are beautiful. Then, the accomplishments they have. So that my children can have them, including their languages if they have any and their cultures if they are different from British. And I prefer someone that can bring me genetic diversity for my children. Then, style (for me).

I spent about an hour talking to my friend in the context when I came in early. Her and me, we can talk and talk and talk together.

In the morning, I gave the tour I wrote at Kew Gardens. And, so beautifully, I had two young girls on the tour with their parents. The children were really getting into it, the older girl. She was running up to the front of the group to talk to me about what they were doing with plants at her school. And one of the young women with her mother asked me about what a botanist does. I was inspiring the young people for the future. It felt really good. I have put so many unpaid hours into this Kew Gardens project, lost so much pay. It is bearing fruit. Even if you just get one person interested, that is enough. Then it is worth it. The father really thanked me, and so did the mother.

I had my first meeting online at the place I volunteer for writing to bring about world peace through writing. It was good to hear the voice of the person I have been writing messages to. I know so many people now in so many different areas in life. Always people around me all the time. Everything has changed in my life since my time at my desk all day, researching and reading and writing. I set out to change my life. It has happened. There is just one last thing missing.

The young blonde friend I made in the Gardens was there today so I talked to her. She is super friendly to me. Maybe in time, I will know her enough to ask her. She is interesting, but I don’t know anything about her and there won’t be any opportunities. Right now, it is still the same situation. The hope for Helen and Girl 3. If either one of them change their mind. Then, there is potential girl. With her, there is uncertainty. If you can only ask someone once, you have to be pretty sure about things. And asking them directly scares them off. So there are still the three women in my life. Watching and waiting. Thinking about them. But they are perhaps all thinking of someone else.

HOLIDAY: Jealousy; The Mental Image of Helen; The Gardens and its Strangers; Merciless Fate; The V & A Late; Body Language on the Tube

22.03.2024

Even the people that read this diary probably think I should stop writing my thoughts about Helen. So what? In the same way I can’t force her to love me, she can’t stop me loving her, thinking about her and writing about her. When she stops reading, I will stop writing. I feel it is her reading in the nights. What have I said about her that is untrue or mean or unfair and unjustified?

Was Helen jealous of that young, beautiful woman I kissed yesterday? Well if she was, that is how I feel when I think of her being with anyone else. Except, for me, it is much worse: nausea and choking. And she has no right to be jealous. Because it is her that has chosen. Not me. Her. If I had my choice, she would have been with me for the past year and we would be planning our family already.

What is the mental image that I have in my head of Helen? It was just after I hadn’t talked to her for several months because I had decided that I was never going to talk to her ever again. And then, I had had to change my approach. She was sitting there. I nodded at her. She lowered her head with her black eyes fixed on mine in an exaggerated and formal manner. There was something incredibly cautious about the way she was looking at me. Her eyes were wary. There was a wary line of tightness about her mouth. She was looking at me like a defenceless person would look at a dangerous predator. Sometimes, I think of that look and, honestly, I laugh to myself. Because this is just normal life and it has taken on the dimensions of a tragedy. We have both become drama queens. Why am I in this situation right now? Why is life so fucking fucked up? Why do other people have an easy and carefree life and I don’t?

Today at the Gardens, I talked to so many strangers to help them around and point out things to them. My life, for the most part, is just talking to strangers. When you want someone that isn’t a stranger to talk to, where are they? I am talking about a woman. That has a romantic interest in me. How can this planet be full of more women than men and I am having a problem finding someone? It doesn’t make any sense. Especially since I am around people all the time. Where are all the people my age? They are all in relationships or the type of people that don’t really want to be in a relationship. All the young people are scared of you because you are older than them. Then you have to factor in racism, discrimination against my height and the fact that I’m not a stupid drunk. And being friend zoned because you are ‘nice’. Final result? No women around you.

I was thinking about someone today that just has bad luck all the time. Bad things happen to them and the people around them. What have they done to deserve this merciless fate? Some people’s lives are just suffering. What problems do I have in my life? Helen and her no. The personal problems I won’t write here. The plastic is falling off my headphones and it got all over my chest and my shirt and scarf. It gets in my hair and on my face and on my ears. But am I the type of person that will throw away some perfectly good headphones because of that? No. Because I am not a wasteful person. I will have to make do with them.

As you can see from the photographs above, I went to the V & A Late after the stuff I did in the Gardens today. The music was amazing and I was watching a performer dancing. As soon as a woman starts dancing, you are mesmerised. I was looking at her bare stomach and her face as she twirled around and gyrated on the floor. The body in motion. The body becoming a system of signs and music. When they dance or sing, you become theirs. Before, you wouldn’t even look at them. It is well – they like dancing. It’s one of the occasions where they can let all their repression out.

Some woman sat down on the tube at an angle to face me instead of looking forwards. She was uncomfortably and directly pointed at me. I’ve actually mentioned before that it sometimes gets on my nerves that everyone around me acts like I am good looking all the time and I am still having trouble finding someone that likes me and that I like back.

The Consolations of Being Single

25.06.17

In one of the pages of Mrs. Oliphant’s long and incredibly boring novel, Miss Marjoribanks, the unlikeable heroine consoles herself. She is astonished that she has not received many offers for engagement. As a result, she dwells on the stupidity of men and their lack of discernment. It is a commonplace of the singleton to console themselves in such a manner. There is the narcissistic contempt of members of the preferred sex which validates one’s own existence. Can these people not see that I, too, am worthy of love? They are blind and ignorant.

I want to update the narcissistic contempt of the singleton for our own times in my own words as a singleton. It has been many years since that rambling Victorian novel has been written. How do singletons console themselves now? Here is a little list of arguments.

1. I’m happy that I didn’t settle.

As I watch the couples around me, I am often amazed at how they can be attracted to one another. Not only do I find the females unattractive, but I also can’t understand what the women see in the men. To my mind, these people have settled. Clearly, my assessments are based on physical beauty, and so what? I don’t believe this is superficial. The same people that prefer shared interests in a partner are more superficial with their blind conformism. Those who talk about “personality” and the cult of the individual also avoid the reality that most people in our society are fundamentally the same underneath everything. I, the singleton, can still pursue beauty and the dream of beauty. Although I have forgiven women in the past for not being what I have dreamed of them, I can, as a singleton, worship the goddess without any guilt or pangs of conscience.

2. I’m happy that I didn’t have to change myself for somebody and I don’t have to do what I don’t want to do.

One watches the slow tussle for control in the relationships around oneself. The woman has to change herself for the man and the man has to change himself for the woman. This is despite the fact that the change that is being asked for is completely unreasonable. In putting themselves into the shackles of a monogamous relationship, the people in a relationship have to become different people. Thus they have to do what they don’t want to do almost all of the time. An obvious example yesterday was in the shopping centre and seeing the bored look on the faces of the men while the women looked through handbags and shoes. In a relationship, you have to talk about things that you don’t want to talk about and feign interest in them. You have to go places you don’t want to go and eat food that you don’t want to eat. You have to spend money on things that you don’t want. The singleton has something which someone doesn’t have in a relationship: independence and freedom. No relationship responsibilities outside of the family. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else.

3. I don’t have to put up with the family (and friends) of the woman.

When one has been in a family one’s whole life and has never had a break from being in a family, the one thing that one doesn’t want is another larger family. Especially one composed of older people telling one what to do all the time. One also doesn’t have to make friends with a bunch of strangers that one’s partner knows, even if one secretly dislikes them.

4. I don’t have the burden of keeping secrets from the other person.

In life, one learns very early on that you cannot tell other people everything that you think. It can be very destructive to say what one’s honest opinion is in our society as people hate the truth. Being out of a relationship, one doesn’t have to incessantly lie all the time to the other person. The stress of lying is therefore avoided, as is the responsibility to be always cheerful.

5. I keep my personal space.

I don’t have to share activities with someone all the time and can pursue my activities in solitude without any disturbance.

6. I don’t have to feel the hurt in a relationship.

The less said about how painful a relationship can be with arguments and suchlike, the better. It is a horrible experience.

There are possibly other arguments. The general drift of my arguments obeys the rules of narcissistic contempt for others that do not give me love. Only so much has changed from the days of the Victorians.