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	<title>Methodical Musings</title>
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	<description>One man&#039;s martyr is another man&#039;s asshole. Which are you?</description>
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		<title>Methodical Musings</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com</link>
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		<item>
		<title>Sexuality &#8211; Part 2</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/27/sexuality-part-2/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/27/sexuality-part-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 28 Jul 2010 03:51:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Sexuality]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=776</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My previous post explored the frustration I have with trying to explore my sexuality. This post will expand on it and may - depending on how inebriated I am - contain graphic content. Viewer discretion advised.

The concept of "hitting on" girls (or guys) always made me feel awkward. It seemed so demeaning. A lot of focus growing up was placed on treating girls with respect. Respect. Respect. Respect. Of course, for those who never had a chance to really explore what it meant to disrespect girls, the examples given on how to respect women (holding a door, giving gifts, remembering an anniversary) were little more than rituals to avoid social retribution for behaving badly toward women. We rarely - if ever - learned attitudes. And I think it shows; if it does not early - it does later on in marriages.

My attitude toward sex before adolescence was sort of the naive and arrogant attitude of "what the heck is people's problem? When I get older, I'll never be tempted by that stuff." So my surprise and confusion in adolescence was compounded. I had sworn to myself I would never be tempted, and now I found myself turned on by the slightest show of cleavage. My erections were not solely pleasurable, but also terrifying.

I remember the first time I ever felt a sick feeling about sex. I was with my grandma on a trip and saw a sign for a strip club. I remember just feeling so sick. I wanted so bad to see that woman on the sign naked. So bad. But then I felt so repulsed by even the idea of sexuality. Somehow I felt threatened by this new desire... it upset my perfect little world.

This feeling hung on for the longest time. I was mad that sex existed. I was mad that the desires were there and so strong. I think even a small part of me was mad at God. Why the heck did I have to wait another ten years to make use of what were such strong feelings? I knew nothing of masterbation and was too scared to try anything.

My outlet was my mind. I fantasized like the hormonal boy I was. I think I had fucked every girl I knew in my mind by the time I was probably fourteen (?). In fact I remember distinctly the moment when - lying in bed - I had fantasized about a girl I knew at church and found myself struck with the thought that there was no one else I knew I could fantasize about. Suddenly I was struck with guilt. Deep, horrendous guilt. I felt like God had allowed me to fantasize about all these women just for this one moment to get my attention. I repented in tears.

For the next several years I was basically pure in mind. In fact, I remember having virtually no sexual thoughts for roughly two years in high school. I just avoided it. I had suppressed the desire so much that I would "bounce" my thoughts away from anything sexual like a virtuoso.

But this did not help my love life. I fell in love with a girl at church when I was about fifteen. Deeply, madly in love. But madly repressed and confused. By the influence of my friend Anthony and my mom I had become deeply enamored with Joshua Harris and I Kissed Dating Goodbye - to the point I would argue with others about how he was right. Dating was wrong: period. Sexual thoughts outside marriage were wrong: period. In my black and white mind no sexual thoughts were allowed. I still feel deeply wounded by this book and the horrid attitudes it taught me.

To some extent I turned into a stalker of Lydia - the girl I thought I was in love with.I had become convinced in my mind that she was the one for me, pushing away all doubts. And there were doubts, but I think I was trying to deal with my suppressed sexuality and this was the primary outlet. Lydia liked me as a friend but I think I creeped her out after I expressed interest. This is probably normal at the age of fifteen, but for me it was so frustrating because at a certain point I had convinced myself that God meant for us to be together - or something like that. This was a recipe for emotional disaster.

[I just went out for a smoke and a few thoughts occurred to me. First is how hard it is for me to even write about stuff like this. It's like a massive weight on my shoulders. I've always been an extremely sexual and sensual guy. I discovered rather quickly last year that I know how to touch a girl naturally - and was even told so by one girl I was with [I did not have to work that hard at getting a girl to orgasm and never faced the "oh, crap how do I get this bra off with one hand" thing] To some extent I think somehow I knew I was naturally strongly sexual from an early age - and knew I could pull off being a player - and my suppression was so strong that any expression of my sexuality was nipped in the bud by my overzealous Christian mind. Now, when I face my natural urges, I find myself feeling like I've got one foot on the gas and one foot on the brake at all times. Writing about it is something I know I need to do to get it out but it is still hard.]

For the next four to five years I was in love with this girl. Looking back, I wonder why. I think it was probably because I had suppressed my sexual urges so strongly that they all came flooding out in emotional displays. My MO was not to think about sex but just to think about love. Which definitely would come across creepy and stalkerish now that I think about it. Or gay. One of the two.

Obviously I never got what I needed sexually all through high school. I could not satisfy myself and I needed it. It was so bad I would regularly have two wet dreams a night, leading to frustration and confusion especially around the breakfast table when I would drag myself out of bed - full of guilt and confusion - with wet underwear and quite pissed. My mom was confused herself that I went through underwear so often. Yet I felt I could not talk openly about any of this with my parents so I bottled most of it inside, trying to resolve the conflict through spiritual means.

What a mess I was. And still am. Having never honestly faced myself and my sexuality I don't know what I want, and I have never listened to my normal and natural desires as I should have. It is all quite confusing. I still find myself regularly reaching these very annoyed states and then decide to masturbate and find that everything that was bothering me suddenly goes away.

The suppression is still alive and strong. I'm trying to explore it.

More of my story later! I'm sure this will be a long series....

- Josh
<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=methodicalmusings.com&blog=1180971&post=776&subd=guitarstrummr&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Josh</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Damage Control?</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/19/damage-control/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/19/damage-control/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 20 Jul 2010 05:04:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[I changed my mind (I'm not God after all)]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=772</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So, my recent post about 'healing' is begin followed by a period of realizations about how I treat others - and while for a long time I have known my attitude has sucked - I have not known how to deal with it.

Part of the problem is pain. Feeling immense pain about so many things and feeling that so many things are wrong and then just reacting to it. Natural reactions include, but are not limited to, anger, bitterness, defensiveness, excessive offensiveness, desiring company for ones misery, extreme desire to hurt those you have been hurt by, taking out aggression on those who are tertiary players, panicking when you feel like you are losing control, etc.

I just reconnected with a friend from last year that I had been extremely mean to... I didn't believe her, thought she was lying about some things, and hurt her something awful. The thing is, at the time I was so confused about my own internal turmoil that I couldn't see what I was doing - or what she was trying to do. She was just trying to help me in her own way. She was being good, and I came across a complete fucking asshole to her because I felt like she was getting too close to a painful subject for me and I lashed out at her.

I've had a very hard time understanding emotions since I began to enter my depression around the age of 13-15. The thing is, when I'm suffering emotionally - or feel hurt - it is so hard for me to know how I am coming across to others. Your mind can be screaming at you to resolve the internal conflict and that can make it virtually impossible to allow in any new emotional factors. Intimacy is hard because it opens up the internal conflict.

The mental image I think of is a person who has been physically hurt. That person will generally only let people he trusts touch the injury or do things to make it better. If he doesn't trust the person, their genuine motives will be perceived as attacks. I'm finally figuring this out.

So this last year I have to confess that I have a lot of broken relationships. Almost every single one of them seems directly related to the pain I was feeling upon leaving Christianity. I would let people close to me and then snap at them when they started to get too close - often coming up with a tertiary reason for the reason I was acting as I did.

The truth is that I did not generally feel genuinely loved. I felt like I was trying to maintain healthy relationships without any input. I distrusted people. Pushed people back. But then I would feel lonely and a massive sense of pain. Then I would get close to someone and forget the pain and pretend like it wasn't there but eventually my internal turmoil would come out in a fit of selfishness.

The point is, I can't bottle stuff up inside like I have for so many years. My dad does that. I know he does. He rarely shares what he is feeling or thinking deep inside until it just comes out in an almost passive-aggressive fashion. I can't be like this... it's a problem. I have to learn to get to know myself... to be close to myself and understand what I feel before I can even begin to get close to others.

Anyway, so now that I've made this discovery, I'm trying to go back and clean up some of the messes I made and restore some friendships that I feel were tertiary damage. It isn't that bad, but I know that I really, really hurt some people and I'm trying so hard to make it up to them if possible.

I suppose if you're going to clean up a high-pressure clogged system you have to make a mess before you can really get down to cleaning it all up.

Oh, one other thing. I've come to a stronger sense of understanding about my family's attitudes towards life and it makes me sad. They are so critical, introverted, judgmental, and self-sufficient at every turn - sucking others in with a guise of love only to slowly beat them into submission. It sounds depressing but I think this discovery is really, really good. It means I'm able to now spot the problem in myself. And admitting you have a problem is the first step to a cure I'm hoping.

So I guess all that said, I realize I have some deep-seated, massively damaging attitude problems in my life that I need to work through. I can be dangerous emotionally, especially in relationships with women. I do care about them, but in a typical legalistic attitude, I find myself quickly switch into a lack of care when there is something I don't like. I really, really hate this attitude in myself. People deserve to be cared about just because they are human, not because they fit into some mold of what I want or what I like. And it seems like the M.O. of myself - some of it learned from my family - is to disregard or shove aside people who do not fit into my idea of what I want or what is perfect. That's just downright wrong and hurtful.

So if this is the closet I'll get to an atheist repentance, I guess I'll take it :)

Cheers everyone, let me know if I've ever hurt you and I'll take it to heart,

- Josh<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=methodicalmusings.com&blog=1180971&post=772&subd=guitarstrummr&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Josh</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Signs of [!Miraculous] Healing</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/15/signs-of-miraculous-healing/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/15/signs-of-miraculous-healing/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 16 Jul 2010 01:15:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=768</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So, 'tis true. It is a miracle. I've been cured.

I don't know if anyone really reads my blog anymore, but it still provides a creative outlet for me to express what I'm genuinely feeling / thinking / doing - deep in that emotive part of my soul that, quite really, had become my greatest friend during my religious years. It is good to get that out still as I learn to stop living in my head and start, well, living.

It's been nearly two years since I left Christianity completely and like a scar the signs are still there. But over the last month I've been reflecting and learning how to cope. One of those ways has been this blog and just getting my thoughts out for others to hear. A deep realization was that my parents and family could not be any sort of loving, emotional support to me in anyway. Because they refuse to listen to my deepest concerns and because they cannot comprehend what I've gone through, I have had to learn how to be my own guidance. I have to learn to seek out people and things that will give me what I need to cope and grow. Perhaps a few bars too late in the music of my life, but I feel in a few more stanzas I'll catch up.

But as I slowly pull my head out of the sand - or my preverbial ass - I'm beginning to feel a connection with the world that I have not felt since childhood. In a strong way I feel that Christianity - or fundamentalist religion in general - causes its converts to become emotional turtles or ostriches. They would rather pull their head in or bury it in the sand than learn how to face the realities of life. The thing is, if you pull yourself inside like that you will lose your ability to sense and feel certain things.

At this point I feel like a person who has slowly learned to pull their head out of the sand and not be scared by everything. I'm not on the defensive all the time. It is good to let life wash over you like a tide, not to hide from it. I find myself taking more risks, being more myself and feeling comfortable with it, and enjoying the company of others more.

But more than that, I feel like things taste better, smell better, and feel better than they did when I was a Christian. Somehow it was as if all the fear and worries that Christianity brought to me - at least when the Bible was taken literally and seriously -  kept me from actually experiencing and enjoying life. The attitude that I was an alien to this planet - "just passing through" - from my real home of heaven had kept me from truly experiencing and enjoying every passing moment in this life.

And this is where I think the greatest signs of my healing on leaving Christianity set: in my heart. In the deepest part of myself I feel more connected with the world. I feel more thankful for the happy moments and less angry at the bad moments. Life is perfect even when it does not fit my ideal of perfection.

If my mind was a rope, it had been tangled into a thousand knots. Thanks to knowledge and an understanding of life, those knots have been consistently unraveling and I am experiencing the results - even in my dreams.

What a weird thought... that dreams can be a tell-tale sign of ones inward understanding of the world. During my teen years my dreams were almost always dark and terrifying. Then I suppressed all those fears and my dreams almost entirely went away. But in the last several months I've been dreaming again. Just normal, weird, and nice dreams. And I'm not alone, I've heard one other de-convert say the same thing happened to him when he left Christianity.

It's as if I'm welcoming back an old friend: myself. I feel like I"m reuniting with the 'me' that existed before my mind was hijacked by faith and turned into a zombie.

I love it. I'll never convince my parents or family that their wrong or trapped in a cultish belief system. But I, at least, can be free. And that makes me feel incredible.

- Josh<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=methodicalmusings.com&blog=1180971&post=768&subd=guitarstrummr&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Josh</media:title>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Sexuality &#8211; Part 1</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/13/sexuality-part-1/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/13/sexuality-part-1/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 14 Jul 2010 04:49:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Sexuality]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=765</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[One of the most repressive parts of any religious system is human sexuality. If human sexuality can be controlled, then the gene pool can be controlled. Not to mention the diverse and wide array of consequences associated with sex that often leads to fear and a full cap on sexuality itself - except under specific circumstances.

But as you can imagine, over the last year and a half I've been giving sexuality a lot of thought. Lesbians, gays, transgender, fuck buddies, marriage, dating, hermaphrodites, nudity, BDSM, genital size, surgeries, sexual attraction, romance, and much, much more. I used to wonder why 'sexuality' was even a topic. It's just sex. Rub the genitals to orgasm. How could it be so complicated, no?

Boy was I wrong. And naive. I feel like those green individuals who first get saved at a church. They don't know what they are getting into.

I've taken a break (90% my pickiness, 10% bad luck) from sex lately. After my last relationships I knew I needed to think. To get my head on straight. To set the screws in place. To figure out what the heck I wanted.

To be honest, I have no idea what I want. Imagine only ever owning one bicycle and then going into the biggest bicycle shop in the world. Suddenly the options are too diverse. You find yourself timid to ride the nice bicycles - even though they are the ones designed to take a beating. You see all the shapes and sizes and are overwhelmed at the selection. It's just a bike! You need two wheels, a chain, and a steering wheel. Why is it so complicated?

Well, that's how I feel about sex. Up until basically a year ago I had one option in my head. Get married, have sex. Yay. Now I see this diverse selection of options and - to make matters more complicated - when it comes to sex you are advertising yourself, too. So I don't know what I want, and I don't know how to advertise myself. But I won't really know what I want until I try some things right? But I can't try some things unless I'm willing to a) get hurt or b) hurt someone else via my naivette. That's really my dilemma.

When I first left the church I was like "Yay, now I can have sex! But with who?" This soon lead to "Oh, I'll have the perfect relationship with a girl without Jesus, to prove my parents wrong." That didn't work because I got way too curious about other girls after that first relationship and she sortof flipped out on me and didn't know what she wanted. Then my next relationship was with a girl I wasn't so sure about - but the sex was fantastic. At that point I was in the "Ok, because my first serious attempt at a relationship crashed and burned, let's try this fuck buddy thing." Well, the fuck buddy thing didn't really work out. She started to weird me out. Then I was on to an attempt to take a fuck-buddy relationship into a real relationship. That didn't work either because she was too young and getting too close too fast. Then I met a girl who would make a fantastic fuck buddy partner but she weirded me out too - and had a boyfriend. And was a coworker. Then I decided to forgo her to attempt to date another girl I really, genuinely thought I liked. She didn't like me. Damn.

Then there's Shannon. I don't think I've mentioned her but I've known Shannon for over a year. She probably knows more about me than anyone else at this point. Deep inside I might be in love with her, but I'm scared of myself. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I have way too much learning to do and need the freedom to do it. I just hate being tied down. I hate it. I hate the feeling of emotional pressure - for probably obvious reasons if you have read my blog much. I'm scared of 'normal' relationships because they seem so contrived, so driven by religion, and so trapping. Yet a part of me really wants one. But I'm more scared - and entertained - by the part that does not. I'm driven to discover the part of me that was so curious about sexuality when I was young that I would get my neighbor lady friends to take their clothes off just so I could see. What part of me is that? Should I be afraid of it or welcome it? What does that mean about me now? Anything?

You know, when it comes to sex I think we all just want the freedom to express ourselves fully, openly, and without fear. And who doesn't? Sex can only be satisfying when there are two things (from my experience): relaxation and attraction. You can't be attracted to something you don't want and you can't orgasm when their is genuine fear. So ultimately, sexual repression comes when you can't have what you are attracted to or when fear blocks your ability to get turned on. At least that's my assessment so far.

So it seems that the absolute best sex comes when a person understands themselves sexually - and you can't understand yourself without exploring yourself. You have to push your own limits of fear to seek out that which you are really attracted to. It seems to me that often people are attracted to something they also fear. This doesn't make for a good sexual dynamic. This is probably why nice guys want certain girls but don't have the guts to ask them out. Or why women are attracted to the bad boys but then never seem too happy with them and end up wanting a "nice guy".

I had a girl online recently - quite cute - ask to go on a camping trip. She's into BDSM. Huh. It freaked me out. Why? Why did it freak me out and why do some people like it? I'm almost more attracted to discovering the answer to the question than I am attracted to the idea of trying BDSM itself.

What makes people tick sexually? I want to figure it out. It is becoming a driving question in my life.

It's bizarre, really. This whole sex thing. It's so big and complicated and real. I'm scared and excited.

- Josh<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=methodicalmusings.com&blog=1180971&post=765&subd=guitarstrummr&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>7</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Josh</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Cowpunchers</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/04/cowpunchers/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/04/cowpunchers/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 04 Jul 2010 15:48:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Hobbies]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=758</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Ok, so I just stole that word from the immortal short story teller O'Henry. In fastidious fashion he crafted a story about said title and as per usual left me with a tingling sensation crawling up and down my spine at the stories climax. I just read said story and am now waiting for a game to be downloaded on Steam as I try to avoid exercising.

As I meandered about this morning, I came to a realization. I get bored quickly with just about everything and for many years have been trying to make myself be diligent and force myself to learn to finish everything I start and, well, stop getting bored.

But the truth is after years of trying to make myself stop being bored by things and just finish everything, I am bored of the effort. It's a delicious boredom, really. I feel free, as if the pursuit of just finishing things was the one thing keeping me from finishing anything.

In keeping with my last post, I find myself even more than ever just doing whatever I want - whatever I feel like. I'm trying to escape living in my head. Yes, dear readers, it is true. I live in my head most of the time. It's as if my mind is on constant replay of whatever it is that I should be doing right now and pitting that against its mortal enemy what I feel like doing. This churns up an internal battle that leaves me feeling only half-satisfied regardless of which path I choose.

But I must confess, this was an attitude among my family members - induced, most likely, by their parents. Even my sister-in-law wrote a blog post recently about how my brother's tendencies in this area are driving her nuts. Eventually this attitude leads to an almost sullen in-appreciation of anything unplanned, disorganized, unkempt, or mildly animal-like. It leads to an inability to laugh at spontaneity and a mild affliction of anxiety. It is exacerbated by Christian beliefs because, well, just about everything in Christianity could fall into one of those camps except regular grooming and church attendance. Both of which, I might add, my brother practices religiously.

Now, in true Sherlockonian fashion, I am seeking a resolution to this epidemic of propriety induced malaise. See, I want nothing to do with this mild discomfort unless, well, it benefits me. And after years of drinking this elixir, I'm done with it. I don't want to finish things and be the best and always be proper and somehow "rise above" the average man's antics. I want to not think about it at all. I want. That's it.

So, right now I want to go for a tease of a run (just until I feel good, with no intentions of accomplishing anything more) and then play computer games until I have had my fill. Then, I wish to figure out someone to enjoy the fireworks with this evening. Then I hope to find someone with whom to go dancing.

Oh yeah, and I have to buy ferry tickets for my trip to Isle Royale next weekend. Then I'm learning to ride a motorcycle at a class the next weekend while taking another photography class.

Goodness, I'm booked.

- Josh


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			<media:title type="html">Josh</media:title>
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		<title>Reinvention</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/01/reinvention/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/07/01/reinvention/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Jul 2010 04:18:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[I changed my mind (I'm not God after all)]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=755</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So, it has been approximately 2 years since I left Moody Bible Institute. Hard to believe it has been that long. I feel like it is becoming a distant memory.

I just got accepted at UIC. Why the degree? I just want to get it finished. I just want it over with. Two years ago I wanted to move to England and soon discovered I could not because I was 10 points short of a work visa - 10 points that a bachelor's degree would have easily gotten me. While my bosses have always told me a degree would not earn me any more money, I find myself thinking that if I do not get it my choices in the future will be limited.

It's been obvious I'm sure from my blog posts that I've been pretty angry recently. Angry and suffering from some sort of epistemic gloom. So I've been trying to move ahead in life and still feeling like I'm held back by something. I think I'm still figuring it out.

Some of the epistemic and motivational gloom stems from this feeling that I'm somewhat lopsided. I feel mentally like a body builder who spent all his time on one muscle.

Today at work I was talking with my friend Majid who mentioned that he would like to go back to school to study philosophy. I found myself - bizarrely - telling myself that sounded like a bad idea.

Philosophy? A bad idea? Coming from me?  The guy who studied and thought deeply about those questions until my head felt like it was a-whirl with endless questions and trivial answers? I do not think I want to ever study philosophy again. In fact, I look at the title of this site. Methodical musings. There's nothing inherently wrong with that but I want to move beyond that... I want to move beyond the introspective, analytical mode of life that has been my MO for so many years.

And that is where a portion of my gloom lies.

See, I don't think there is anything wrong with philosophy and introspection but for me at least I'm just exhausted by it. It may be true that the uncontemplated life is not worth living, but the over-contemplated life will lead to despair. Holy shit, does it lead to despair.

There is one quote from Solomon that I like:

So do not be excessively righteous or excessively wise; otherwise you might be disappointed.

Do not be excessively wicked and do not be a fool; otherwise you might die before your time.

For the longest time I wondered what Solomon was talking about in that first portion. How in the world can a person be too wise. How is that even possible? If there is one thing a person should pursue, should that not be it? I could not get my mind to comprehend a possible end of wisdom that would be bad. It was almost as if Solomon was saying that it was foolish to be too wise and somewhat wise to play the fool. But I could not see how.

But I get it now. See, I feel like I've put all my bank in the former and I am disappointed. I mean, what has all this pursuit of wisdom gotten me? I used to pray nearly daily for God to make me more wise. Somehow I thought I was getting there. I thought it was worth putting my time and energy into. But where has that left me? With a head full of logic, epistemic knowledge, and advice for others but basically a pretty boring and painful life for the most part. I find myself thinking that everything is vain. And that makes me disappointed. I know everything is basically pointless in the end. I mean, if there is a god of some sort, surely he has realized his own existence is just as pointless. I wonder if he is bored and despairing of his own existence too. And that makes me laugh. Somehow this all seems so silly, but silly in a good way.

And that leaves me at a spot where I just want to have fun. I just want to get out and play the fool. I want to go butt fuck crazy for a while. But every time I do I find myself almost incapable of it. I spent so many years building up resistance, building up an attitude of judgment, of analyzing, of care in my every step, that even when drinking it is nearly impossible for me to get where I would just be crazy.

I find myself fulfilling this verse:

I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly--my mind still guiding me with wisdom. I wanted to see what was worthwhile for men to do under heaven during the few days of their lives.

And, listen, I'm not trying to say I'm anything like Solomon, but I know what he was talking about. There are times when I'm drinking - smashed - and I still find that my "wisdom" has not left me. Drinking does not make you have more fun or make you more depressed unless that is what you already are feeling.

See, growing up I was the model child. Perfect. At the time I didn't think I was, but I followed all the rules, submitting myself to them. I never lied. I never stole. I never cheated. It became habitual. I felt desperately guilty speeding or even playing poker for $10. But it made me miserable. Granted, I'm glad I was not a complete fool, but I'm a 25 year old who feels like I'm 50 in my philosophy of life and 15 in my emotional and social maturity. It does not feel right.

So now what? Well, I don't know. I want to do something crazy. I find myself feeling like I'm going to "snap" somehow and on some occassions it starts to happen. The other day I found myself feeling like I was just going to go crazy and thinking that whatever I did next, it was not going to be rational. And you know what? It feels good to not be rational. There is this carnal, animal side I feel like I need to learn how to fulfill if I want to truly be balanced in some way.

I sometimes wonder if dirty old men were once suppressed, guarded young men who did everything right. Then they get older and say "fuck it, this is bullshit, I want to release my inhibitions." Sure, it creeps everyone out, but that's why they can do it all with a smile on their face.

And maybe the gloom is my fault. I mean, I did - for the longest time - conform to a notion that I could rise above the average human existence. I did not want to be like everyone else. I did not want to have their problems. I wanted to do better than everyone. I feel dirty admitting it now because that was probably the most arrogant attitude I could ever have.

I mean, we're all human. We're all going to face pain, to face death, and everything we have we did not really earn of our own accord. We do not have the answers and we cannot find them. I really believe that. We cannot find the answers. We can find some answers, sure, but in the end - in this little, short life - we will not escape being human.

Anyway, there are probably two ways to look at life once you've "gone crazy" as Gnarles Barkley said and realized you did not know too little, you just knew too much. You can either say it's all pointless and get serious about it and despair. Or you can embrace the chaos and take it with a light heart, accept it, and seek to make everyone happy.

And heck, that's what I want my new attitude to be. And I'm trying damn hard.

A big realization recently is that humans are not rational. We are irrational creatures and expecting rationality is bound to produce disappointment. My parents will be irrational. My siblings will be irrational. I will be irrational.

And I think that is the only way I can ever feel sane. To realize the pointlessness of life and to be daring enough to face it anyway. To realize the futility of ones own existence and to embrace it in a fit of madness. To learn to find the joy in pain and suffering.

There's a quote from Band of Brothers that I like. The craziest motherfucker of the whole bunch is the most sane of them all, and at one point he says to a terrified, neurotic soldier that best thing a man can do is realize that he is already dead. Only then can a soldier function as he is supposed to. Somehow it's as if hope is not the realization and expectation that things will get better, but a realization that in the end everything is actually worse - or could be worse.

I could be dead. I could be suffering from cancer. I could still be a virgin. My family could all hate me (they don't, bless their hearts, as much as I am deeply annoyed at their Jesus-loving ways). I could have stayed at Moody. I could still be a delusional Christian. I could still have voices in my head. I could have no job. I could be broke. I could have chronic depression. Heck, things could always be worse.

I want to explore. I want to see just how crazy I can get. So for the next year I think I'll make that my goal. Overcome inhibitions and go nuts. Then I'll probably hit that wall and find myself somewhere in the middle, having explored both ends of the spectrum.

This could be fun.

- Josh
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		<title>I have seen it done</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/06/27/i-have-seen-it-done/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/06/27/i-have-seen-it-done/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Jun 2010 18:07:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Morality]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=752</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My motivations are fucked up

They point two ways

Scarred by rejection

Hidden behind smiles

I find myself disillusioned

-

I did everything right

Was honest and loving

Opened my heart

In a flurry and frenzy

Honesty-pushers call me a liar

-

What's left for this soul of mine?

When missionaries deceive

When pastors mislead

The elders say submit

Then give you the lip [Why should I be better?]

-

The moral highbrows

Use it for immorality

Nothing left

But selfish smarts

Against their own game

-

Humility is overrated

When used as a tool

To use others

For your own gain

I have seen it done

I have seen it done<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=methodicalmusings.com&blog=1180971&post=752&subd=guitarstrummr&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<title>Yeah, so now I&#8217;m just getting pissed</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/06/16/yeah-so-now-im-just-getting-pissed/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/06/16/yeah-so-now-im-just-getting-pissed/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jun 2010 15:46:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=748</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A) After getting raging mad at my dad, I had to tell him basically to fuck off and I've decided not to contact him again and to tell him not to contact me. Maybe one of these days I'll figure out how to deal with him, but not now. We've reached a point where we just don't work.

B) I want to go visit my brother in Germany sometime this summer. We were talking and within 3 IM messages he had already brought in how God had really been blessing him... of course completely ignoring the fact that 'God' is treating me just as well by working things out with my new place and my job, etc. So then I told him that if I come to visit he isn't allowed to talk to me about God unless I can debate him. He agreed, but it still left me with a stale taste in my mouth. I just can't stand the subtle dropping of God into everything like an unwanted guest.

C) I'm getting sick of being the nice guy. It doesn't work. Scenario: I like a girl at work but feel she is out of my league. So, like clockwork I resort to playing the nice guy type, get hooked in, really like her and then start to freak and get mad when I find out she doesn't like me. Selfish? Yeah. But I can't let myself continue to be the guy who is crushing on girls endlessly (years, my man, years) only to have my heart handed back to me time and time again. Just won't do.

D) I'm getting bored at work. I don't feel like I'm learning anything anymore... it's just the same old, same old again and again.

Anyway, so that's my life these days. I'm not really sure but I feel like I'm finding a new grounding. Not sure in what, but it's definitely there. I think my new grounding is in just not caring anymore. I takes too much energy and for the most part people have to figure out there own problems by themselves. Maybe it doesn't mean I don't care, it just means I'm learning what to care about and not giving a shit about anything else.

- Josh<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=methodicalmusings.com&blog=1180971&post=748&subd=guitarstrummr&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<title>Why Selfishness is Healthy and Sexy</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/05/17/why-selfishness-is-healthy-and-sexy/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/05/17/why-selfishness-is-healthy-and-sexy/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 May 2010 04:38:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=744</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So I just had one of my epiphanous moments.

First of all, let me apologize to anyone who might be reading this and I didn't get back to your recent comments. Then second of all, let me say I just really didn't feel like responding. I love you, but this site is mostly for me because I need therapy. This was never about you, come to think of it.

Tonight I once again got super pissed at my dad. It just sortof wells up from my obsessive nature and explodes into my mind. And then I slowly let it swish around like an  Icelandic volcano and spew its ash all over an unsent email. Thankfully, the ash grounded the email and it never left the airport.

Yes, indeed - something was brewing deep within my mind and then it clicked.

Nice guys do finish last and there is a solid reason.

All my life I had been taught to be humble to the extent that anything I really wanted I never truly pursued. This came to friendships, girls - even jobs. It's just by some fluke that I got the jobs that I did, come to think of it. I didn't really care.

And that's the thing. I didn't really care. If I didn't get the job it was no big deal: my worth and livelihood didn't ever depend on getting the job. But as soon as I start caring about something - desperately wanting something - I tend to either:

a) Clam up and tell all the wrong people

b) Get all 'nice guy'

c) Suppress it completely

d) Be honest and all feely to hope someone else gives me what I want because they see how good I am

It's like I'm scared to really say what I want and pursue it. It's like I expect it to just fall in my lap without much work: like I'm expecting God to just give me everything I really want if I'm nice enough (Ps. 37:4).

And so, every single fucking time I really want a girl I don't get her. Every time. Without fail. And I always get the girls I don't want.

The only pattern? I didn't care about the girls I didn't want and I did care about the girls I did. Like clockwork.

Now, here's the genius (because yes, it is genius). Oh, you will love me.

Why is this the case? Oh, it's so simple it's marvelous.

Humans who care most about themselves are most likely to survive. And women who like men who are most likely to survive are most likely to raise a family. This is probably where we get the mantra that women like bad boys.

But that is only have the truth. There is a catch! Humans who let others know that they only care about themselves are less likely to survive and reproduce. Follow? So you have to be deceptive.

As such, the only way to be truly sexy is to not give a shit. You honestly and truly have to not give a shit, because as soon as you really don't give a shit you are neither a threat to any other humans and you are most likely to survive.

Why the hell do you think every model shot looks like the model is happy, independent, and not giving a shit? Because it's sexy. And it's sexy because it's full of life. And it's full of life because there is nothing needy about it.

And as an added bonus when you don't give a shit you are happier. Why? Because you are never disappointed because you didn't give a shit in the first place.

So, what does this have to do with my dad? Well, all this time I've been living under this delusion that my dad really cares about me and it occurred to me tonight that he doesn't - and he never truly has. My dad's behavior only ever says he really only cares about himself - regardless of what he has ever said. It now makes sense. And the bizarre thing is that I'm no longer sad about it. That behavior is his prerogative. And now I don't mind so much because even if he has convinced himself that he does care about me, at this point there is no genetic incentive for him to truly care about me. After all, if he did, he would listen. But furthermore, I shouldn't expect him to care and ironically as soon as I lose that expectation I no longer care much myself.

Anyway, I'm reaching a point where I'm going to do whatever I want whenever I want with whomever I want and frankly, I don't give a damn.

I feel better already.

- Josh


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		<title>There are those moments, you know</title>
		<link>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/04/29/there-are-those-moments-you-know/</link>
		<comments>http://methodicalmusings.com/2010/04/29/there-are-those-moments-you-know/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Apr 2010 19:24:23 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joshua</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://methodicalmusings.com/?p=738</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Where I think I might be going crazy.

This last week has nearly driven me insane. I'm just going to let it all out here because I can't seem to find anyway who truly understands. They say people who are extremely smart tend to insanity more... and it makes sense. Everyone else drives us insane.

I have so many moments where I desperately try to help others, where I try to get others to understand, where I spend an inordinate amount of time boiling down so much information into a simple principle that tends to work - only to find that no one seems to care.

Alright, I'm smart. I know it. I don't think I'm all that smart (from my everyday perspective) because I know all my failures but for the most part I'm figuring out that I'm regularly 10 steps ahead of everyone else around me. That's fine. That's cool.

So now what?

I daydream about living on the beach, or just doing nothing, or finding some posh apartment with a deck and just partying every night. What does this mean?

I've spent most of my life conforming... expending endless energy hiding what I really think from people so that I can fit in. Most of this energy has been spent trying to be what everyone else thinks is humble or godly or good or right or socially acceptable.

And I'm sick of it.  I'm exhausted of those voices telling me to behave a certain way or to avoid certain behavior. I can't stand it anymore.

So I don't know what this means, but whatever.

- Josh
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