Posts by Anthony Hayes2

rustymaker5 said:Honestly, if you actually stop to think about it for a second, there’s a certain logic to what Fyodor is putting out there... because it doesn't feel like he's just talking for the sake of it you know how they say "long hair, short wits," but since we all know spirituality flows from the heart rather than just some intellectual brainpower, everything seems to be aligning in this sort of cosmic direction 😛

Exactly, Arnić. We would get along fine. You’re a real woman—warm, deeply human. I assume you married for love and raised children you actually care about; unlike these women today, all cold intellect and no soul. They have a radiator and a light show going on in their heads, but hearts made of ice. Some are even alchemists, purely geometric types, turning you into a pillar of salt like Lot. Others are like the Statue of Liberty herself—all hard concrete, not exactly easy on the eyes or the throat, and in their spare time, they’re out in some wild meadow hunting you down with a bow and arrow like a deer caught in the antlers.

frozengull2 said:Anthony Hayes2

Look, tantric sex is its own thing, you know?
See, if she didn't have all that hair, she wouldn't be able to get her revenge or even figure out who the traitor was. That’s why—hair is actually a huge factor when you're dealing with corrupt, sneaky enemies. You don't have to believe me, you can say I just made the whole thing up, but honestly? It's true.

🤣

Man, hair really is like some kind of antenna for you, isn't it?
You make it sound a little intense, almost euphoric, but wtf, I'm sure you wouldn't go that far unless there was a damn good reason behind it.
I respect it.
Peace!
Actually, now that I think about it, being a bit rough around the edges can actually help sometimes;

Example 1.
Back in the day, we used to sing this old song; "They called her Bloody Mary, she never gave it away easy... she loved the hairy beasts, chasing them passionately day and night..."
The smooth ones? She wasn't interested in them at all.

Example 2:
I don't know if you've seen the show Breaking Bad!?
If you have, you'll see exactly what I'm getting at;
Mr. White is this model citizen, a caring dad, a sweet husband, and a broke, good-hearted high school chemistry teacher... right up until the moment he's forced to shave his head bald.
From that exact second on, he starts transforming into Heisenberg, step by step, and there's no stopping him.
It's wild!

Seriously, if that isn't proof supporting your theory, I don't know what is.

ps.
btw; Bryan Cranston totally deserved an Oscar for that role (the whole White turning into Heisenberg thing)!
Best show I've watched in years.

Metrosexuals might just be closeted asexuals or homosexuals. Or maybe they're just heterosexual men who have been domesticated by women—mental eunuchs. Basically slaves whom Bloody Mary doesn't chase because they're too busy cleaning her house while she's out having fun in downtown Manhattan or hitting bars near Central Park. As for my theory on baldness, I'm currently basing it on guys like Stanković and Štulhofer, though Yul Brynner could be a positive example of a bald man. Except he shaved his head on purpose. Then there was the famous Telly Savalas—better known as Kojak. Even Kinsey started out that way before founding his Institute. We should probably take a census of bald inmates in prisons and run some "in vitro" studies on their sexual and spiritual behavior while locked in cells seven-to-a-room—maybe toss someone like Sanders in there... It would be a fascinating experiment.

But the main thing is how hair emerges during a specific phase of human development as a symbol of resistance against militarism, the American military-industrial complex, or the Vietnam War. It raises the question of how much warfare can truly be spiritual. Is the stuff about Sun Tzu, samurai, and all that just as spiritual as Zen Buddhism, Chan, or Indian meditation? In the end, it seems modern corporations have co-opted samurai culture as a way to train employees to die for the company or work overtime... today, war is fought through the economy, and since everything is interconnected thanks to globalization, the struggle is different. That's why spirituality is lacking, and corporations hate long hair. They hate it because it isn't neat, it isn't uniform, and frankly—maintaining hair is expensive. They also dislike it because they want to identify people instantly, whereas long hair can hide parts of the face, much like an Arabic niqab, making someone unrecognizable. And in combat sports, hair is cut because it's a liability—you don't want an opponent grabbing your hair to knock you out.

Now, tell me honestly, which one carries a stronger spiritual message:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dyl0j3WU6Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhNrqc6yvTU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9oq_IskRIg

Or this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qaDikWotFlg

Both serve as a pushback against a certain kind of enslavement. It’s about resisting the theft of identity, freedom, and total surveillance over a human being—from birth, whether through reality or art, until the grave.

Quentin Tarantino.

frozengull2 said:I honestly don’t know if it’s even worth the mental breakdown you get over hair.
Like, one minute you’re all, “Oh my god... I look so damn good...” then suddenly, “Wait, wait... did it actually grow enough? Is this thing even working?”
“I’ve got hair down to my butt, I’m basically vibrating on six different dimensions right now.”
“But man, I look like a total antenna.”

Let me tell you a story;

My dad spent a few years living in India.
He spent over a year tucked away in this ashram—basically a training center—in Varanasi, plus some tiny little village deep in Bihar (he was constantly bouncing between Varanasi and the locals... just to be specific).
One day he’d be in Varanasi, the next he’d be in that village (which was like a 15 or 16-hour trek from Varanasi; part train, part hanging off the roof of a local bus, and finally, about 13km of hiking through the middle of nowhere... just to reach this remote meditation spot/village). It was basically three or four mud huts where they’d smear cow dung on the dirt floors every single day just to keep things steady, tucked into some forest by a river where tigers actually lived—no joke.
For real.
In that training center (split between those two spots), people were training to become Tantric Sadhus.
You know the vibe; all that chanting, ritual stuff, and whatnot...
A little bit of this, a little bit of that, just so nobody gets bored.
The craziest part? They didn't take Westerners. So my old man was basically one of the last Mohicans there, along with maybe three other hardcore Western freaks/seekers who dropped everything to go "searching" and somehow stumbled upon this place while wandering through India.
Besides them, there weren't any other Westerners.
Mainly because nobody really spoke English there.
To even function, you had to at least understand Bengali or Hindi... whatever.
It was mostly a younger crowd staying there, people in their early 20s who were dead serious about checking out of the secular world.
Anyone older could stay for a short stint, but you couldn't live there long-term.
As they say; “strike while the iron is hot,” or something like that.
The whole center was run by this old Tantric Acharya—a pretty intense guy, probably around 70—and living there was anything but easy.
Partly because of how little there was (the poverty they had to endure was intense, even by Indian standards), and partly because of the iron-fisted discipline required by the head of the ashram, who’d fix any disobedience by cracking a stick across your back.
If you couldn't hack it, you were out.
Food was scarce—mostly whatever you could scavenge and cook up in a clay pot over a fire you started yourself. You basically had one pair of loose pants, one rag you’d wash every day with a scrap of soap at a tap, and one small orange cloth to wrap yourself in during the evenings.
That was it.
On top of all that, there was endless meditation, singing Kirtan, sleeping on the bare dirt or a basic mat... all for the sole purpose of mastering certain Tantric techniques and lessons.
And there was tons of learning... memorizing various Sutras by heart, which the boss—with his lightning-fast staff and sharp eyes—would interpret... I won't even list them all.
So, anyway;
Everyone in this Tantric training "center" had to let their hair and beard grow wild.
No restrictions at all.
Because of that, every single one of them looked like some terrifying Tantric warrior from the Stone Age.
Just totally keyed up on the Tantric vibe, practically naked and barefoot, with long hair and untamed beards, wrapped in nothing but scraps of cloth.
Tradition, I guess. Heh.
The hair and beard had to be washed with soap four times a day, before every meditation, and after that, you'd rub coconut oil into it until the hair and beard were as shiny as a baby's butt.
The darker your hair was, the more it stood out.
My dad told me that, never before or since, had he ever been cleaner or more washed up in his life—even though he was living in the most stripped-down, objectively grimiest conditions he’d ever seen on the face of the Earth... at least from his perspective.
So, anyway...
Man, time just flew by. Between all that heavy Tantra sessions and trying to soak up every bit of those lessons... it was wild. But honestly? It felt like it was happening in slow motion too. All those solid, real people—the ones who were out there every single day putting in the work, scrubbing away, and constantly dousing themselves in coconut oil... their beards just started growing exponentially. Slow and steady, you know? Just constant growth.
Man, the more those weeds grew, the more they just seemed to hunger for space, I swear to God... just proudly squeezing out everything else and letting themselves flutter around wildly in the wind.
Like flags... just drifting there. Honestly, it reminds me of that one summer I spent driving through the Midwest, just seeing nothing but endless cornfields and those faded little roadside flags fluttering in the wind. It’s kind of a vibe, you know? But also kinda pointless if you think about it too long. Just waving around for nobody.
Or even better;
You ever see those guys who start getting all "bodybuilder" on you? It’s like, they walk around acting all "oh, I just threw this on, totally didn't think about it," wearing these insanely thin, tight short-sleeve tees... basically performing this whole act of being completely uninterested in fashion. But don't let the act fool you. They’re doing it on purpose, making sure they stroll right through the busiest part of downtown where everyone can see them. It's such a move.
That fake-ass "oh, I'm just casually strolling by, totally indifferent to what I'm wearing" vibe? It’s absolute garbage. You can smell that forced nonchalance from a mile away. It’s like someone trying way too hard to look like they didn't try at all, which—ironically—is the most obvious tell ever. Honestly, once you encounter that kind of pretentiousness, it just sticks to you. It lingers in the air like bad cologne for days. Just total trash.
It’s honestly exactly like that in the Tantric world too. It starts out so subtle, you don't even notice it happening—just bit by bit, little by little. They come at you with those shimmering eyes and that smooth, melodic voice, and before you know it, you're caught in the whole cosmic trap.
It’s honestly wild how much a person can be objectively, undeniably screwed—like, actually living in total misery, owning nothing but a couple of pairs of raggedy pants—and yet still feel like absolute garbage just because they’re sleeping on a hard floor or sitting still for hours on end. It’s crazy. Plus, if you’ve got hair and a beard looking like that little dwarf from Snow White—you know, the one that actually strikes terror into the hearts of the poor folks begging for scraps every single day? Man, it just messes with your head. Just makes everything feel ten times heavier than it already is.
My old man always tells me, "Look, if you haven't lived through it yourself, there's no way on earth you'd ever truly get it." And honestly? He’s probably right. It's like trying to explain the taste of a greasy cheeseburger from In-N-Out to someone who's only ever eaten boiled kale. You just can't. Some things you have to feel in your gut before they actually click.
So, there they were. One day, right at the peak of their whole hair and beard glory—basically when they were deep in the thick of all that tantra, mantra, and chakra-cleansing nonsense—they finally snapped out of it. They’d just finished hours of meditation and some half-baked lessons, totally zonked out, just sitting there waiting to hear some profound wisdom from the old head of the center. This guy was basically their best bud; they’d hang out with him every single day, just shooting the breeze and messing around like old friends. And then, out of nowhere, they got hit with a total curveball.
The old guy just sat there for a while, man. Totally silent. He was just scanning the room, watching everyone who was down on the floor practicing their lotus position... just taking it all in.
There's about 30 of them.
He was gripping that cane like it was some kind of royal scepter, holding it vertical against the ground—you know, that power move. He kept scanning the room, his eyes darting from one spot to the next, just restless. It looked like he was searching for something specific... or maybe he was just trying to see right through everything.
Just a few minutes...
It was pretty damn obvious from the jump that something was eating at him. You could just tell things weren't gonna go smoothly that day—nothing was gonna follow the usual routine, you know? Everything was just... off.
Finally, someone actually had the guts to ask the real question: "is everything even okay...!?"
Old man just blurted out a hard "No!" like he was firing a shotgun.
Look, I’m serious. By the end of the day, everyone needs to shave their damn beards and chop all that hair off. Honestly? You guys look absolutely moronic with all that junk hanging off your faces. It's embarrassing.
Ugh, just... ugh. Seriously.
WTF...!? Seriously?
What does he even mean by "cut her hair"!? Seriously?
"That’s just not tantric... you know what I mean!?"
"Everyone's in, one by one," the old man repeats.
And just like they were told, that's exactly what they did. No questions asked.
Every single one of you.
Took forever, man. Honestly, they were working with one pair of old, dull-ass scissors that couldn't cut through butter, let alone whatever they were trying to do. Total waste of time.
Since they had to hack their own hair off, everyone ended up looking like a bunch of freshly shorn sheep. Honestly, just a total mess.
I mean, seriously, they weren't even allowed to use a razor—not that they actually had one to use anyway... all they could do was hack away with some shears, just doing whatever little bit of trimming they thought they knew how to do. It was a total mess.
Whatever.
The funniest part was honestly just watching my old man deal with that massive sense of loss back then. It was wild.
He’s basically saying he felt like someone was snatching his favorite toy right out from under him. Just total violation, you know?
Man, I don't even want to get into that soul-crushing sense of shame that just absolutely leveled him. It was like a punch to the gut. He had to actually step out there and beg for food that day—because back then, you only ate whatever you managed to scavenge or ask for. Just total humiliation.
Back in the day, I was king of the street performers—hair flowing wild, beard looking all glossy from that coconut oil I used. I felt like an absolute legend. But now? Man, I feel like a total bum. Just some guy standing there while those self-righteous losers look right through me like I don't even exist. It’s pathetic, honestly.
It’s just this constant, nagging realization that I'm gonna feel totally exposed to the world for days—like, until my hair and beard actually start growing back—and honestly, it just makes the whole awkward vibe even worse.
It’s honestly wild—like, some kind of freak miracle or whatever—but everything else just feels better now. I mean, specifically looking at the actual practice he was doing. It’s like the whole vibe shifted.
So, you seeing this now?! Like, seriously, look at this mess.

My old man just shaved his head today, and honestly? He looks exactly like some guy from *Dancing with the Stars*... you know, one of those guys who takes the whole thing way too seriously. It’s intense. He looks absolutely wild.
Man, that just makes my blood run cold. Seriously.
No matter where we end up, people who don't know him just... they move out of the way. You can see it in their eyes—that weird, uncomfortable vibe like they're trying to dodge a collision with someone they can't quite wrap their heads around. It’s honestly kind of pathetic to watch.
Movies! Man, I could talk about cinema for hours. Honestly, sometimes you just need that perfect flick to shut your brain off after a long day.
Man... honestly? It’s about damn time I go full crazy and just let my hair grow out again.
If he doesn't, he’s gonna walk around thinking he's some kind of tough guy.
It honestly seems like guys with bald heads—just like those damn long-haired types—have this permanent "connection error" in their brains... they just can't seem to sense that incredible, overwhelming sense of Wonder that's supposed to be everywhere, in everything.
From top to bottom.

So much for having hair...

P.S.
Honestly, instead of using hair as some sort of "spiritual antenna," you're better off just using a piece of wire.
Just shove it up your ass and slowly rotate it left and right.
If you get lucky, maybe you'll actually pick up one of the local stations inside your skull on the FM band.
Like, "hey dear listeners, this is NPR... educational programming. We're starting our 'History on Thursdays' show now..." and stuff like that.
😉

Tantric sex is inherently unnatural. Normal, animalistic sex is instinctual; a man’s impulse is to release, seeking the softest point of contact where he can drive home—right where the female's anatomy resides. You don't aim for the shoulder blades or the head. Oral sex is already a deviation, a perversion. It aims for one-sided satisfaction and a power trip for the one controlling that pleasure with their tongue. Tantra is even worse. There is either no physical contact at all, or they drag it out under the guise of "soul merging." In modern terms, it’s just edging—staying on the brink to make the eventual climax hit harder. It’s like a junkie slamming a needle to get a bigger rush than snorting powder; eventually, nothing is enough. Practicing tantra through asceticism is just denying basic needs to channel sexual energy into the brain. They overstuff themselves with endorphins and serotonin until their eyes glaze over and their hair stands up from the supposed electromagnetic hormonal surge caused by testosterone hitting the follicles. I’m not in favor of constant animalistic release; it dulls the mind. But spiritually, you descend to the level of livestock—always scavenging, eating greasy burgers and drinking beer like a common slob. You lose the ability to perceive finer pleasures. Yet, if you become an ascetic, you can't grow spiritually because you're constantly burdened by the physiological demands of sex and hunger.

Let’s see if we can find a different story where hair actually carries some value.

The insurgents held Aspen, giving them a clear view over the entire Central Valley. Major Domagoj Tvrdić and his unit under Kuguar had tried to take that ridge several times, failing every single time. They just counted their dead and wounded, cursing the enemy who grew more lethal with every failed charge. It felt like there was some supernatural force aiding the opposition; they always knew when an attack was coming and met them in ambush. The best and bravest young men were being killed or maimed—permanent burdens on their families and society. There was no way out. The only difference between the insurgents and these fighters was the long hair and beards of the former, which likely housed field mice alongside any other pests. Domagoj’s men, however, kept their faces clean-shaven, as true warriors should. Domagoj decided on a tactical ruse. He would send a small group out into the open to bait the enemy out of their bunkers, while the main force flanked them from the side to catch them off guard. But the plan had one flaw: the insurgents showed zero interest in leaving their fortifications. A more elaborate deception was required. There was a young man in the unit, gentle and slight, a redhead who almost seemed delicate. He even had long, well-kept hair. His name was Adriano—his mother had some Italian roots, and being from the coast, his parents clearly had a fondness for the Pacific. They conceived a hellish plan. In a few days, during the full moon, they would disguise Adriano as a woman and send him out in a dress to lure the insurgents away from their cover. Once they emerged, the rest of the men would open fire from the nearby brush. Adriano agreed to play the part of the forest siren.

The midnight full moon cast an eerie cobalt glow over everything. It felt like the forest might just be sucked into that pale, glowing steel eye staring down from the anvil of the night sky. Animals hunkered down in their dens; the only sounds were the hoot of an owl and the grunt of some wild boar dreaming of giant acorns. Adriano emerged from the tree line toward the creek, his path illuminated by that ghostly lunar light. He was wearing a breezy, white knee-length dress, his red hair catching the summer breeze with flashes of white, looking almost like a living red-and-white checkered pattern. Suddenly, a squad of seven insurgents appeared from the shadows—men with scruffy beards, bandoliers, and wool caps. They grinned with rotting teeth. From the center, Domagoj stepped forward, his swollen cherry-red lips making him look like some kind of zombie or a vampirized version of a local legend in the dark. He let out a muffled, joyful shout, "There she is... this is going to be fun." The leader of the group, a stern man named Milojica, pulled out a massive double-barreled shotgun and waved it at Adriano, signaling his unruly mob to move in. Two stout, heavy-set men with bulging eyes and sagging chins lunged forward; one was a short, wide fellow with a beard trailing behind him like a character from a fairy tale, and the fourth was a gaunt, wheezing man with enormous ears poking out from a tight cap. Three others, shorter men in caps armed with rifles and light machine guns, watched the scene unfold with grim satisfaction. Domagoj was mentally rubbing his hands together. Nobody would ever guess the commanding officer was the one tipping off the insurgents about the ambush. It was clever; he’d told his men to show up a little later, just after the deed was done. Besides being devious, Domagoj was gay, and Adriano had been a long-time obsession of his. He imagined her performing acts for him, reaching for him... then he heard Veselin, one of the thugs, yell, "Hey boss, that ain't a man!" Domagoj’s eyes widened. He saw it clearly now—Adriano had beautiful white breasts, and his fantasies of a big red tool in the woods were dead in the water. Because Adriano was simply who she was—Adriano, from head to toe.

- "Are you kidding me? You work for Kuguar?! How can you walk among serious fighters like this? Answer me right now or we'll show you what happens when the cat purrs too loud!"
- "My uncle died at the hands of your people just a few months ago! His identity was stolen and reported here, where nobody even bothered to check if he was still alive. We don't fight like regular soldiers in the middle of nowhere; we keep things quiet," Adriano retorted. In a flash, she pulled a massive stick of plastic explosive from her bag—enough to level a demon or a Boeing 767. In the damp air, it had stayed dormant, but as soon as it hit the dry air, it hissed and sparked with a metallic sheen. "I knew you were a traitor, Domagoj. My uncle was the last one in your unit before you sent him into that ambush back when you were just a junior officer. You've certainly climbed the ranks since then. You might even make General if you keep this up, though I doubt you'll survive this..." With that, she hurled the lit stick at him and the stunned group. The explosive flared brighter than the full moon or a midday summer sun, obliterating distorted, terrified faces and twisted limbs. Scruffy beards went up like dry brush in a summer island fire, scattering Domagoj’s bald skull and his cap—decorated with a national crest—into bits of bone, brain, and shredded tissue...

If she hadn't had that hair, she probably wouldn't have been able to get revenge or even realize who the traitor was. That's why hair matters when fighting a corrupt enemy. Don't believe me? You can say I made it all up, but that's just how it happened.

Regarding these spiritual bald types. Short hair might not mean more spirituality, but total baldness could serve a purpose. Long hair acts like an insulator, dampening the connection to spiritual spheres. Shaving it reduces interference, but being completely bald increases it. It allows static electricity to transfer directly to the scalp—which is far more sensitive than regular skin—detecting even the finest energy fluctuations. Since the skull is spherical and thought radiates like a spherical electromagnetic wave, a bald surface functions as a kind of radar or antenna. Even Tesla noted this.

http://www.tesla-coil-builder.com/Tesla_Propulsion.htm

If you view the head as a sphere and brain folds as coils, it’s clear. Under specific conditions—proper meditation and electromagnetic wave alignment—one can generate a powerful electrostatic potential with a directed vector. Strong enough to cause levitation. This explains the reported levitation of certain yogis or even Zlatko Sudac. It also enables wireless transmission of energy and thoughts. Purely mental communication.

In this context, hair acts as a capacitor. Short hair is usually too unruly, preventing the alignment of the electrostatic vector. Long hair lies flatter against the head, allowing the benefits of the skull's spherical shape to remain somewhat accessible.

The shaved heads seen in Hare Krishna or Buddhist traditions are just markers of belonging. It’s similar to how certain American clergy use tonsure to signal their commitment to an order. It denotes obedience. Loyalty. Whether the historical Buddha was actually bald or just depicted that way remains a mystery. Take Krishnamurti, for instance:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...namurti_01.jpg

He sports a long, elegant braid, looking almost like a Native American in his later years. 😍

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bEgyFT6iFz...ishnamurti.jpg

In some American traditions, long hair isn't enough; you need the beard too. Without it, Rasputin wouldn't even be recognizable. Same goes for Arabs and Jews. And then there's this:

http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2011/...98_636x476.jpg

If we set aside Buddhists and Hare Krishnas, most historical figures were either bald or bearded. On the flip side, look at neoliberal fascists like Olli Rehn and other spiritually hollow types—they're all clean-shaven, short-haired, or balding. Hardly any Western political leaders carry long hair. People call it convention or practicality, but what kind of "freedom" is it when you aren't even allowed to choose your own hair for a high-ranking position? I remember when Canjuga became the coach of the LA Galaxy; Franjo Harmon forced him to shave. He used to have a longer braid.

Though, the Dalai Lama is bald and shaves his head.

The melatonin theory makes sense. Vitamin D can negate melatonin effects (which explains the insomnia if you take Vitamin D at night), and redheads produce significantly less Vitamin D. However, they tend to have much higher melatonin levels—making them, logically and intuitively, more spiritual than the rest. Witches. The issue is that melatonin is likely carcinogenic, while Vitamin D suppresses skin cancer, explaining why redheads face higher risks of melanoma and sleep issues. It fits the classic image of a witch casting spells in the dark. A typical witch would probably be posting on a forum in the early hours of the morning, though the insights wouldn't be particularly enlightened. Vampirism myths likely share this origin: insomniacs who consume sugar at night and have pale skin were probably associated with the walking dead, suspected of sucking the life out of people and livestock. Redheads also suffer from iron deficiencies and anemia; ancient peasants might have assumed they were drained by something, much like leeches draining cattle. They concluded these anemic, nocturnal people were wandering around draining the living.

http://www.bulletproofexec.com/bulle...ith-vitamin-d/

In California, they talk about things like strigoi, which are just variations of the vampire myth. You might wonder about the link between hair and vampires. Well, hair and nails continue to grow after death; when bodies are opened weeks after burial, they appear overgrown. This fueled the imagination, leading people to believe the deceased were still alive and walking around. That's why vampires are often envisioned as hairy with long nails—just another connection between long hair and paranormal abilities in folk consciousness.

Witches are typically depicted with long hair. Usually messy, ash-gray or red, much like the image below:



It makes me wonder if hair pigment serves some kind of additional sensory function. A significant number of redheaded women cut their hair short, likely out of necessity. Perhaps the sensory input from long hair causes the brain to overheat—like a car engine running without coolant, just burning through fuel faster. I once read comments regarding Natalie Portman and Lucas, implying he isn't even the one responsible for how well they get along; apparently, she possesses those "sensors" that trigger an instinctual reaction just by looking at her. People were probably just jealous. Then there is Einstein; with that "wool" on his head, he was likely more spiritually sensitive than other physicists. We usually see eccentric scientists with that specific "tuft," as well as mad musicians or conductors... take Hector Berlioz, for instance. Or Beethoven. Even today, most musicians sport long hair. In the hippie movement or heavy metal, hair is everything, though for the latter, it tends to be greasy and matted. To me, that in heavy metal signals a certain spiritual corruption, similar to when a Jedi starts using the Force for evil and becomes Darth Vader. I would certainly agree with rustymaker5 that there is something sinister about all that hair.

US military studies conducted on Native American scouts revealed that cutting their hair strips them of extrasensory abilities, leaving them vulnerable to ambush. Those who maintain long hair retain their intuition, using a sort of "sixth sense" to detect approaching enemies before they strike.

Does hair length dictate spirituality? Baldness often correlates with weak spiritual depth. Take Johannes Kepler, Stravinsky, or Lyndon B. Johnson, for instance. They possessed sharp intellects, certainly, but lacked intuitive strength. Great spiritual icons are rarely depicted as bald. Look at Jesus.

http://vataworld.wordpress.com/2013/...ervous-system/

It's because hair acts as an extension of the nervous system, feeding constant data back to the brain. Some women claim their nipples serve a similar sensory purpose, noting that bras actually hinder their intuitive perception. If anyone has had similar experiences, I'm listening.

Structure is essential. It keeps the chaos from unravelling you. Work matters, even if it’s just having a schedule when you’re unemployed. They wake the patients up at 6 AM in psychiatric wards for a reason—to force order. Usually, they use intimidation to maintain it, which only works while the doctors are watching. Once they're gone, everything collapses back into the void of self-discipline. It's like scaling a vertical rock face. You hammer a piton with your right hand, hold it with your left, then swing an ice axe, move an inch, hammer again. In that moment, you aren't looking down, wondering if you should just let go. Life is similar. People with actual substance don't jump; they just keep climbing, take a breath, and keep going. ☕

northernowl11 said:It makes sense to the person who has chosen that path, and we shouldn't dismiss that. I believe any path can be valid and lead to the destination (eventually), provided the underlying intention is pure.

How much time meditation actually takes might be better answered by those who practice it regularly... but I know people who have meditated for years and contribute immensely to their communities through their work. For them, meditation provides stability and focus, which is incredibly useful in any profession.

I don't know any "failures" who practice meditation, but I certainly know plenty of people who clock in from 9 to 5 but only actually work two or three hours. And then, on Sunday, they head to Mass. To me, that is a form of "pseudo-spirituality."

Practicing spirituality doesn't just mean going to church or traveling to India—it manifests in how you act every single day.

True spirituality is absolutely applicable to our material reality; in fact, that might be the very key to recognizing it. We make choices at every moment—and I agree that each of us must be mindful of the risks and responsibilities those choices carry.

How can one judge purity of intent? If the motive is right, the specific path becomes secondary. Though, could certain paths actually corrupt that intent? Most successful disciplines preach temperance and sacrifice. The New Path is different; it lowers the barrier to entry, promising shortcuts and instant gratification because it sells better. Telling someone they need twenty years of meditation is a losing game. It’s easier to promise results in months through a specific skill or immediate altered states via substances. It feels like doping in professional sports.

Those who actually practice meditation might have a better handle on the time commitment. I know people who have meditated for years and contribute significantly to their communities. For them, it provides a focus that aids their professional lives.

I don't know any "failures" who meditate. However, I know plenty of people who clock in from 8 to 4 but only actually work for a few hours before heading to church on Sunday. That's just a hollow version of spirituality.

Perhaps those employees are meditating while they slack off at work? 😉
Most practitioners contribute through their labor; meditation is just the tool that sharpens their focus.

To me, practicing spirituality isn't just about attending mass or traveling to India—it shows up in how you live your daily life.

True spirituality applies to the material world; that's perhaps how you recognize it. Every moment involves a choice, and we must all own the risks and responsibilities those choices entail.

Agreed. Spirituality is tested in reality. Perhaps the test lies in awareness. Real spirituality fosters alertness; the poor kind just puts people to sleep, like an opiate.😁

northernowl11 said:You probably misread the intent—which happens when people cling blindly to dogma.
A personal legend is actually quite credible, contrary to what you think.
Instead of just blending into the crowd and following the herd, everyone should try to find their own "life story."
Basically, figure out who you are, look at where you're standing in this world, and live according to your deepest needs based on that reality.
That's what a "personal legend" is, and there's nothing wrong with it.

Sure, someone might see it as an egocentric trip, but there’s no real difference between that and New Age stuff, Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism.
Christianity isn't any more "authentic" (whatever that implies) than a person's drive to explore, understand, or follow other paths.

PS
I honestly wonder how someone smart and sensitive can get behind teachings—full of violent, outdated elements—and an institution that has historically caused so much harm.

You probably misread the intent—which happens when people cling blindly to dogma.
A personal legend is actually quite credible, contrary to what you think.
Instead of just blending into the crowd and following the herd, everyone should try to find their own "life story."
Basically, figure out who you are, look at where you're standing in this world, and live according to your deepest needs based on that reality.
That's what a "personal legend" is, and there's nothing wrong with it.

Sure, someone might see it as an egocentric trip, but there’s no real difference between that and New Age stuff, Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism.
Christianity isn't any more "authentic" (whatever that implies) than a person's drive to explore, understand, or follow other paths.

PS
I honestly wonder how someone smart and sensitive can get behind teachings—full of violent, outdated elements—and an institution that has historically caused so much harm.
I find myself asking the same thing: how can someone truly spiritual fail to recognize the essence of Christian doctrine? How can an intelligent, empathetic person get lost in semantics, mistaking the abuse of teachings for the teachings themselves, instead of resonating with the universal messages that lie at their very core?

Can one be authentic enough that belonging to a community (or a "flock," if you prefer the derogatory term used here) doesn't compromise their individuality? It’s a double-edged sword, isn't it? Even when a person physically distances themselves from the group, they remain a part of it. In that sense, there is no such thing as a solitary legend. Any individual "achievement"—spiritual or material—is ultimately the result of centuries, or even millennia, of collective human effort and insight.

Then again, everyone follows their own path, and every path serves its purpose in the end. A Christian might wander into the detours of "quasi-spirituality" just like anyone else.

We are all searching for Glass City, but perhaps we need to travel to India or to Lourdes to realize that it resides within us, and always has. But then again, what can you do? 🙂
I find myself asking the same thing: how can someone truly spiritual fail to recognize the essence of Christian doctrine? How can an intelligent, empathetic person get lost in semantics, mistaking the abuse of teachings for the teachings themselves, instead of resonating with the universal messages that lie at their very core?

Can one be authentic enough that belonging to a community (or a "flock," if you prefer the derogatory term used here) doesn't compromise their individuality? It’s a double-edged sword, isn't it? Even when a person physically distances themselves from the group, they remain a part of it. In that sense, there is no such thing as a solitary legend. Any individual "achievement"—spiritual or material—is ultimately the result of centuries, or even millennia, of collective human effort and insight.

Then again, everyone follows their own path, and every path serves its purpose in the end. A Christian might wander into the detours of "quasi-spirituality" just like anyone else.

We are all searching for Glass City, but perhaps we need to travel to India or to Lourdes to realize that it resides within us, and always has. But then again, what can you do? 🙂
Fair point, but it isn't just about belief or inventing hot water or a "New God"; it’s about practice. Even within Christianity, new practices are invented, though they always try to ground themselves in old theory to avoid being labeled heresy. An edgy person feels no obligation to respect tradition in their practice; they might radically break away or eclectically patch together elements from different traditions... though who that actually serves is debatable. 😵

Transcendental meditation is a blend of various traditions, making it a new practice in its own right. One issue is that it demands more time than praying the Rosary or going to Mass, making it incompatible with a standard job and a "normal life." Yet, hardly anyone in the West wants to practice spirituality like a beggar or a hermit; they want to use spirituality to supplement their existing material comfort. Consequently, someone devoted to a spiritual practice that clashes with work habits becomes a parasite on society. If we assume the community must survive—physically speaking—it's clear that no sane spirituality can support idleness, unless that spiritual work is strictly segregated and regulated, like priests or monks. Where does the individual and their personal legend fit in? Can one declare themselves a "solo priest" or a "solo monk" without simply being a failure? 🤣

I'm not defending anyone's attempts, but people should be more aware of the risks and responsibilities involved.

casualtiger2 said:People were asked why they vote for Party X when they've been stealing for a decade. They just say, "The old guard is already fat; the newcomers still need to get rich."😉

Old religions have had their dark eras, but over time they've become diluted or rigid. There is no longer a need to spread truth through fire and sword, though it still happens—look at Islamic fundamentalism or the "crusades" for oil in the Middle East.

"New Paths" still have to face the sharp turns, steep cliffs, and dark alleys where you might get mugged for a few bucks. Sometimes exploring uncharted territory is a mistake; sticking to proven patterns is safer. You should experiment, sure, but know the risks. During the hippie movement, chasing new paths via drugs was common in subcultures, only for people to later discover the consequences—liver failure, brain damage, death.

Regarding the "personal legend," if you know people, 99% of the time it's just an ego trip. That 1% that is actually worth something is rare. Is it worth valuing 99% of foolish innovations just because of that 1%? It’s like small Silicon Valley startups. Only 1% become massive successes; the rest fail. No bank is going to hand a startup a million-dollar loan just so they can "play around."🤣

What you're saying sounds logical. At first glance, anyway.

But looking closer, it could go like this:
- Why is pursuing a "personal legend" (seeking and expressing one's deepest needs) considered an "ego trip," while being part of a "herd legend" isn't?
- Why do you assume other paths consist of "99% moronic innovations"? (Are you equating all non-institutional spirituality—or even just non-traditional Christian spirituality—with drug use?)
- Does this imply we have to accept that all political parties are destined to be corrupt?
etc.

Essentially, it comes down to how intelligent, sensitive, decisive, and mature a person is to walk their own spiritual path (which doesn't necessarily have to be "innovative"—you don't need to reinvent the wheel or find new holes in a flowerpot—but it does need to be authentic, or rather, a lived life experiment).
Since very few people are actually like that, it almost doesn't matter whether the majority follows a "personal" or a "herd" legend. In a way, you're right—the "herd legend" offers more security (though, as you noted, it carries a higher risk of organized violence, and not just physical kind).
Here is how I see it. In Jesus's time, plenty of people were preaching similar messages. Critics of Christianity always point to Marduk or pagan spring renewal rituals, and so on. What was actually unique about Christianity that allowed it to triumph over its contemporaries? Some quality that resonated with the masses. That doesn't necessarily mean it was "the best," just that it satisfied a large group—providing enough substance for them to find a part of themselves within it, while they filled in the rest to complete the collective body of the faith. New Age lacks such a cohesive body. It’s just a mishmash of incompatible beliefs held together by a shared resistance to Western cultural mainstream and a suitability for commerce. From this, I conclude that the New Age isn't built on a spiritual foundation, but a commercial one. It was manufactured by a capitalist society born from the technological and industrial revolutions. A commercial base required a spirituality that could be more easily marketed, tailored to its own needs rather than following the template of Christianity. Today, the spiritual foundation of the West isn't original Christianity anymore; even that has been forced to adapt to the new market-driven mainstream. And that mainstream is best described as...

Freemasonry. Just another layer of the old shadows.

Freemasonry isn't actually a mass movement. It's just tight-knit cliques and elites playing games. What even is it? For some, it’s pure Satanism—an obsession with power and wealth masquerading as liberalism. It feels like a form of occultism rooted in pre-Christian beliefs, a mainstream branch that split from Christianity much like Christianity once split from Judaism. To the masses, this Masonic establishment churns out New Age movements—a pagan mishmash that works because people are too simple-minded to grasp anything deeper, making them easy to manipulate. Sure, there's quality in New Age thought, but finding it requires serious people. Christianity holds more weight because it still has dedicated people—priests, at least—guiding the public toward being better. New Age circles are mostly just manipulators selling themselves as spiritual leaders.

It isn't just about most innovations being moronic. It’s about "human capital." A mass religion finds it easier to recruit high-quality people to spread its message. People talk about the crisis in the Catholic Church lately—how nobody wants to be a priest anymore. But a mass religion also has a built-in skeptical body that rejects insane ideas. Take the flagellants, for instance. They practiced self-flagellation until they bled, yet eventually, society tossed that "innovation" aside as madness. Or imagine if someone in the Catholic Church suggested cannibalism to honor Jesus's sacrifice; even in parts of Latin America, people might accept almost anything, including literal crucifixion. Christianity went through an early era of truly deranged innovations. There were times when people would actually hack off limbs or genitals because they thought it was what the Bible commanded to avoid sin. Just throwing them around. Ridiculous.

I see another issue here. In the tech or service sectors, bad innovations get rejected by the market almost immediately if they fail to meet basic needs. People move on quickly. But a flawed innovation in spirituality might not be discarded for fifty years—plenty of time to waste an entire lifetime on nonsense. There's a high risk of squandering your life on a delusion or someone’s ego trip. And frankly, spiritual direction matters more than whether you drive a car with rounded or angular bodywork.

The problem with New Path is this obsession with mass appeal and trying to force its way into the mainstream. You can't have "mass genius." It isn't for everyone; it's for the exceptional few. From a market perspective, not everyone can be an entrepreneur—that's maybe 2% of the population—and of that 2%, only 5% actually build something meaningful. Entrepreneurship can't be the mainstream industry itself, though it serves as the engine that feeds it.

New Path cannot be mainstream, nor can it be mass-market. If it remained esoteric, it would be fine; it would simply be the pursuit of exceptional individuals. Trying to push New Path onto the masses feels like nothing more than Masonic manipulation.

casualtiger2 said:

You probably misread the intent—which happens when people cling blindly to dogma.
A personal legend is actually quite credible, contrary to what you think.
Instead of just blending into the crowd and following the herd, everyone should try to find their own "life story."
Basically, figure out who you are, look at where you're standing in this world, and live according to your deepest needs based on that reality.
That's what a "personal legend" is, and there's nothing wrong with it.

Sure, someone might see it as an egocentric trip, but there’s no real difference between that and New Age stuff, Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism.
Christianity isn't any more "authentic" (whatever that implies) than a person's drive to explore, understand, or follow other paths.

PS
I honestly wonder how someone smart and sensitive can get behind teachings—full of violent, outdated elements—and an institution that has historically caused so much harm.
You probably misread the intent—which happens when people cling blindly to dogma.
A personal legend is actually quite credible, contrary to what you think.
Instead of just blending into the crowd and following the herd, everyone should try to find their own "life story."
Basically, figure out who you are, look at where you're standing in this world, and live according to your deepest needs based on that reality.
That's what a "personal legend" is, and there's nothing wrong with it.

Sure, someone might see it as an egocentric trip, but there’s no real difference between that and New Age stuff, Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism.
Christianity isn't any more "authentic" (whatever that implies) than a person's drive to explore, understand, or follow other paths.

PS
I honestly wonder how someone smart and sensitive can get behind teachings—full of violent, outdated elements—and an institution that has historically caused so much harm.
You probably misread the intent—which happens when people cling blindly to dogma.
A personal legend is actually quite credible, contrary to what you think.
Instead of just blending into the crowd and following the herd, everyone should try to find their own "life story."
Basically, figure out who you are, look at where you're standing in this world, and live according to your deepest needs based on that reality.
That's what a "personal legend" is, and there's nothing wrong with it.

Sure, someone might see it as an egocentric trip, but there’s no real difference between that and New Age stuff, Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism.
Christianity isn't any more "authentic" (whatever that implies) than a person's drive to explore, understand, or follow other paths.

PS
I honestly wonder how someone smart and sensitive can get behind teachings—full of violent, outdated elements—and an institution that has historically caused so much harm.
People were asked why they vote for Party X when they've been stealing for a decade. They just say, "The old guard is already fat; the newcomers still need to get rich."😉

Old religions have had their dark eras, but over time they've become diluted or rigid. There is no longer a need to spread truth through fire and sword, though it still happens—look at Islamic fundamentalism or the "crusades" for oil in the Middle East.

"New Paths" still have to face the sharp turns, steep cliffs, and dark alleys where you might get mugged for a few bucks. Sometimes exploring uncharted territory is a mistake; sticking to proven patterns is safer. You should experiment, sure, but know the risks. During the hippie movement, chasing new paths via drugs was common in subcultures, only for people to later discover the consequences—liver failure, brain damage, death.

Regarding the "personal legend," if you know people, 99% of the time it's just an ego trip. That 1% that is actually worth something is rare. Is it worth valuing 99% of foolish innovations just because of that 1%? It’s like small Silicon Valley startups. Only 1% become massive successes; the rest fail. No bank is going to hand a startup a million-dollar loan just so they can "play around."🤣

Human potential exceeds our own perception. The real question is how one cultivates spiritual strength, since nobody is born with it guaranteed. Some get a head start, but that doesn't mean they finish strong. You see people raised with a certain foundation who eventually crumble, while others discover an inner grit later in life. What is this strength, really? Wild West is right about the choice between good and evil—you have to be conscious of it to choose—but spiritual power is more elemental than mere decision-making. The spirit can act rightly even when the intellect hasn't figured out why. The mind lacks that clarity; if it tried, it would just fall into hypocritical, biased perspectives. The spirit doesn't need to "know" to act correctly. That’s its strength. It guides us through those crises mentioned by electrictinker26 where logic simply fails. In a crisis, the mind is paralyzed and emotions are numb, yet the spirit finds a way to move. You don't need some image of an omnipotent figure in the sky to guide you. As Meister Eckhart suggested, that 'one God who exists' isn't even there. For the spirit, such a concept is just a burden leading to egoism and bias, whereas the spirit transcends all bias. Advice is useless; it serves the giver, not the receiver. Spirit is transmitted directly, without words, to whoever is capable of receiving it.

rapidbadger15 said:Anthony Hayes2, your whole response is built on nothing but assumptions. I’ve actually lived through depression myself, whereas you... well, what exactly are your credentials here?

I've had my share of dark patches too. Who hasn't? Is there anyone out there who’s perpetually cheerful, like some wide-eyed intern under Hlapić? 😉 The difference is, things pass, then eventually they pile up until I finally snap. I was reading some papers suggesting depression might actually serve a purpose. It conserves energy for when action is truly needed, preventing you from rushing into things prematurely. The issue is when it becomes pathological—too deep or too long. Besides, depressed people tend to think more deeply about problems; they aren't superficial, which can lead to high-quality solutions, if this source is to be believed. So, her depressive episodes regarding college might just force her to reconsider her major, or maybe she'll finally start studying seriously enough to become top of her class.

rapidbadger15 said:steelpanther11, do you ever find yourself dwelling on suicide? How often does it cross your mind? It seems to me you're showing classic signs of depression, or at least a heavy streak of negativity. I’ve been through all of that myself. Now, I'm just in the final stages.

What you think is fine to post is actually dangerous. You aren't a psychiatrist. You don't know. And what is this "terminal phase" nonsense? Are you planning to end it? If you can't be helpful, at least try not to be harmful. One wrong word and you cause damage. We need context on her life, because from where I'm sitting, these look like standard struggles for any average person—even above average, considering how expensive college is these days. It’s strange that someone paying rent can't force themselves to pass one crucial exam. Maybe the professor is just a tyrant or the curriculum is too heavy. But plenty of people without degrees make it through. Some people deal with much worse physical disabilities and still manage. Life is a grind. Better to realize that sooner rather than later.

@steelpanther11
Priorities first. Either pass the exam or drop out immediately. Don't waste energy on a lost cause. Your father having cancer isn't the deciding factor here; you can't cure him, you can only support him. It's hard to accept that parents age, but it's reality. Just like it's reality that most people mind their own business when someone needs help, even if they enjoy the conversation. Friends are for when things get serious. If you can't afford rent, move out now before the debt piles up and makes everything impossible. Deal with things as they come. Force yourself to act.

Morgan Chase5 said:I am utterly exhausted.
It feels as though everyone thinks they have the right to lecture me on how to live my life.
But I am fine.
I listen, I empathize, I try to understand where everyone is coming from,
and when someone truly needs a hand, I’m there.
The problem is, I feel like I don't even possess a sense of self or my own agency.
And then come the moralists: "You should have done this," or "You ought to have done that."
Just leave me be; I am doing what is necessary—not everything, mind you, just the essentials.
Last winter, I struggled with severe depression; I couldn't even make it into the office, just hiding away in my room. Whenever I had to step outside, the anxiety was paralyzing, almost as if the skyscrapers were closing in on me.
Still, I managed to function at a baseline level.
Now, certain "high and mighty" types are breathing down my neck about some perceived shortcomings—nothing major, really—insisting that I "should have" performed better.
They're delusional.
Honestly, people, I am just happy to be standing here today.
It was an incredibly difficult season.

Currently, I am squaring away some old accounts and tackling things I simply wasn't capable of handling back then.
Even now, I cannot do everything.
No, I am not lazy.
It is simply that I require peace—true peace. I need to move at my own pace.
I have a roommate who actually had the audacity to ask me how I fold my laundry. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone fold clothes quite as methodically as I do.

Whatever. I will fold them exactly how I see fit.
If they want to wander off or fold their own piles, or perhaps enter an Olympic competition for speed-folding, they are more than welcome to.
I do things my way.
That is all, my dears.
Willpower and self-acceptance must come first.
Comparing oneself to others is a futile exercise.
Period!
The most vital skill is knowing how to say: "I can handle this, but I cannot handle that."
I haven't quite mastered that art yet.
I try, but when others make demands or project their expectations onto me, I tend to retreat into silence. I vanish, as if I am inconsequential or invisible.
Afterward, I reflect... and think... Well... maybe that’s for the best. NO.
I let my guard down; I forgot to consider what I actually want and what I am actually capable of.
I intend to grow stronger!

Glad you pulled it off. I don't measure success by the result alone, but by the sheer number of obstacles one has to crush just to get there. As they say, people only see where you finally landed; they never see the wreckage you left behind to make it happen.

Settling old scores. Doing what I should have done back then.
Even now, I can't manage everything.
No, I am not lazy.
Just need some peace. My own rhythm.
My roommate asked how I do my laundry. Apparently, watching me fold clothes is too slow for them. Typical.

Depressives tend to move at a crawl. They still get things done, though. Like that old fable about the tortoise and the hare.

Whatever. I'll handle it my way.
Let them sugarcoat it. Let them spin their own lies. They can go compete in the Olympics for speed-folding laundry for all I care.
I do things my way.
That's all there is to it, my dear friends.
Willpower and self-acceptance. That’s really all there is to it.
Comparing oneself to others. A futile exercise.
Enough.
Knowing where to draw the line is everything. Knowing what I can handle and what I simply cannot.
I'm still not quite sure about that.
I try. But when others speak their minds or make demands, I just fall silent. I fade away. As if I don't exist. As if I don't matter.
In the end... I suppose. It’s better this way. NO.
I slipped up. I forgot to consider what I actually want and what I’m capable of.
I want to get stronger.

It can be done. A thousand-mile journey starts with a single step. Great things are just a collection of small ones. If you do something every day, the results will eventually show up. Sometimes you have to pause, though. There’s an old proverb that says frantic efforts at the wrong time are less useful than small efforts made at the right time.

It matters that someone believes in you. I believe you'll make it.

You're absolutely right. But hating them won't get you anywhere. If they weren't there for you or failed to provide that sense of home, just forgive them—maybe they simply didn't know how. Move on. Find a job, find your own way, and try to give someone else what you never received. It’s hard, I know. But holding onto that bitterness only ends up hurting you, and eventually, everyone else too.