health, mind, reality

My Bodily Needs and My Mind


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 The only friend I can entirely trust is my body. Unlike the mind that drags me through a myriad of imaginary horrid to ecstatic life scenarios, the body never lies. The body is always real, it always stays with me here and now, the body is very articulate in expressing its likes and dislikes regardless of the societally imposed bullshit about the nutritional value of meat, sugar, salt, bread, and dairy.
 
The body will cry out loudly for the need to work out and to sleep at least 8 hours daily.  Even if its voice is temporary silenced by anti-depressants, energy drinks, antibiotics, and surgeries, the truth comes out sooner or later. We tend to panic when the body sends us signals in the form of sickness. Instead of putting our rat racing on hold and listen to the voice of our bodies, we desperately ask doctors for help, entirely ignoring that most of them literally fall apart under the burden of diagnoses and prescribed substances. Mentally and physically sick people who do not know how to take care of themselves claim that they know how to treat others. The matrix is ruthless in its insanity.
 
Suppressing the bodily needs is the most inhumane thing that most of us do going to work they hate, impressing people they do not know, and sleeping with someone without chemistry – Kids need both parents, two incomes are better than one, I must save the family at any cost and blah blah blah.
 
The mind is tricky, it only goes by what happened in the past; it offers the future based on the previously happened traumas. And we listen to it, turning our back on the reality that does not give a shit about hallucinations of our little broken tape recorder. We follow the mind, disregarding the bodily yells to stop and get real. We do not want to get real, we cannot get real associating ourselves with that little head device that tells us what to do and how things need to be done. Even when the reality smashes us with common sense, most of us do not get it and continue following the mind games over and over and over. All we get out of being slapped in the face is that we are victims. And we fall in love with our sufferings, traumas, and problems, proudly carrying the victim-status throughout the life. We cherish this shit, aggressively protecting it from common sense.
 
          We live in imaginary worlds created by our minds. Even if the body suffers, we are not willing to let go of the created illusions, Greg.
          Interesting, Vixen. But I still do not get how come that we do not exist.
          It does not matter
          What matters?
          Nothing really, our mind creates what is important what not, and we stupidly follow the created priorities. This makes us suffer
          Do I make you suffer, Vixen?
          Sometimes, when I appropriate the illusion that you are the most wonderful person in the world.

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