Bushnellelite 3200 10x40

The Hoax -

Brain is contained in my body. Is not separate, not connected, it might not. Is already inside the body part thereof. To be connected should be absent or otherwise posted. Brain and body, body and brain. It has no autonomy. It is in the body and can not exist without the body, he would die. There is no mind without body. In reality they have never been divided. I am one. Unrelated. One.

Brain is organ like the heart and kidneys, with different function. It produces no beats, no cleanses the blood. Produces thoughts. I was taught that the heart and kidneys always do the same activities. Brain is different, check everything, handle everything, produces a multitude of different thoughts, never repetitive.

"Tact is the ability to tell a man that has an open mind when it has a hole in your head instead."

Anonymous

They taught that thought is creative act. What mind is a synthesis of the brain together with the totality of thoughts, feelings, culture and experiences. mind generates thoughts. Autonomous, spontaneous, original, perhaps unique, different in each case other thoughts of other minds. So many different thoughts that were created. mind creates thoughts.

I thought. I thought that my thoughts are created, originating. Then I tried to generate the second will. But the thoughts that arose were not the ones you want. I wanted joy and painful birth, happiness, and appeared frustrated, I obtained love and disappointment. I decided to destroy some thoughts: fear, pain, anxiety, envy. It was not possible. Although I have stayed there, the creator of thoughts, I wanted to get rid of, take them away.

What strange things have taught me. The Creator of the powerless. Votes said I'm the creator, but not control mind. They said mind escapes. That there itself, the pilot in me, who wants to gain control but has to contend with thoughts, feelings, culture, experiences, obstacles to its directives. They said mind rebels against itself should control it, does not obey.

I had already understood the joke: do not really know anything and invented. They tried to rationalize the illusion, explaining nothing. Who explains the phenomena becomes authoritative, gained power. It does not matter if the phenomena are not real. The illusion is so strong that few care about the truth, capture, deal with the contradictions. Meanwhile, the purchasing power of teachers, strengthen the illusion.

"A lie is a lie if it is expressed with timidity, it remains a lie if it expressed a hundred times becomes the truth if repeated a thousand times."

Benito Mussolini

My thoughts were not all that different. He even looked like. An event caused a type of thinking. Other events had adverse effects. Plays the event and you play the thought. I was happy before a delicious, steaming plate of spaghetti, with angry motorists arrogant sad when misunderstood, humiliated by the refusal, intrigued by the news, before an ecstatic smile. No matter how many times to repeat the experience, the result was strikingly similar, the same type of event generated the same kind of thinking.

If my mind was really creative was to have a limited system. It was enough to reproduce the event originated, and the same thought, emotion. So I went on vacation cultivate thoughts of rest and relaxation and curiosity, I loved to flow emotions of well being and communion, so do not blow up the discussions to thoughts of violence or hatred. I knew that I react in a certain way when faced with certain events, then I acted accordingly.

government leaders, sociologists, political, religious, familiar with the mechanism, infallible evoke the appropriate stimuli and elicit the kind of reaction, response, suited to their own plans.

"There are things in themselves cause for concern but the views we have of them. "

Epictetus

If I want to feel joy I can not create it by mind I have to go through the experience which will provide joy, through our five senses: the sun on the skin, the caress of a hand, the voice of the beloved, the output from work, the first sip of beer, the contact with ' sea \u200b\u200bwater, watching the sunset, the figure increased payroll. I try to evoke positive thoughts, that mind react with feelings, thoughts of peace, tranquility and hope.

But it has not been mind to create thoughts. I'm just put in a position to stimulate the senses, the sensitivity, so as to try to mind these thoughts, feelings, emotions.

There is no creation at all. Stimulus mind to react in a certain way.

If you do not want to feel pain I can not stop me. I can only act to mitigate the effect: I can decide not to undertake dangerous activities, not tie me down emotionally, take painkillers, drugs, be careful while across the road, not thinking about my inevitable death or thinking about cultivating the hope of a second chance. But not escape the pain by avoiding to create it. Even if I did not create the pain will be there. I can only act in such a way that my reaction to external stimuli is to not feel pain or suffer the effects.

Maybe I think to generate ideas, original thoughts, but they are reaction to external events by one of the components of my body, brain, mind and with all that she is reacting to a challenge that stimulates my senses.

I have found in me thought it was a creation, not reaction.

I have not met anyone who did not act on itself by reaction. Stimulate all their senses in order to achieve the effect. Nobody creates out of nothing the thought of love, evoking at will, and no is master of anxiety and thrown them away at will, someone ponders all his life, looking for the reaction mind: the disappearance of fear, freedom from suffering.

The creative mind was a hoax. The mind is reactive.

There is no way to create a thought of nothing. I can only react to stimuli, try to direct the thoughts arising, like a beaver builds a dam to utilize the waters.

The mind creates the thoughts that he would like. Li suffers.

mind If you decide not to have more thoughts will be over? If you decide what kind of thoughts to create, and only those ones will really? There are self-thoughts? Or every single thought is nothing but the reaction of a specific organ, the brain, an event internal or external to my body, conveyed by the five senses? Each reaction may not be charged with the burden of mind thoughts, feelings, culture, experiences, limits?

If I had any kind of stimuli, conveyed by the senses, mind continue to produce thoughts? If you are the Creator should do it. But I realize that I actually try stimuli so that mind can react bestowing a certain type of thoughts.

"I do not always want what we like or we like what we want."

Daniel Nettle

If approached the flame with my hand, it will pull back. If breathing dust sneeze to expel her. I do not think there's been at this a creative act, but reactive, defensive. But if I submit to the stimulus part of my body in the cranium, it will produce a thought. Not believe that that is a product responsive, but creative. Why?

Because I believe that an organ of my body should act / react differently from another, the brain differently from the heart? Because I believe that bodies are different, because I believe that the mind is the pilot and the heart of the machine? It 'really?

I think the function of thought is different from that of the legs that run like mad when I see a danger? From one hand trying to grasp the object that is falling? From the heart beat slow and steady pace? By the kidneys that quietly carry out their work, unending?

I believe that organs are body and mind spirit, raised, immaterial? In reality there is nothing beyond the body. The body is all I have. I have no way to relate with reality if not in body. There is no kind of relationship that does not pass by my embodiment, the body. Without my body, including limbs, the senses, the organ called the brain, which contains the bag called mind, I am nothing. I do not exist.

"Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living being."

Genesis 2.7

They taught that thought is autonomous. What is creation and reaction. If it were I, Creator, to dominate my thoughts. Would create them as necessary, abandon them out of their task, recreating them as needed. Yet despite there thoughts mind try to ignore them, destroy them. Can not be evoked, deleted, re-created without problems: suffering the effects of trawling, rigidity, prejudices, fears, obstacles, typical of those who in reality is not a creator but the creature, but does not have the thoughts they have provided.

If the thought is creation fear, anxiety, worry, frustration, anxiety, can not exist. Mind simply decide not to produce them. But if the thought is reaction, then it will go away. Will eventually affect, sometimes dominate, the part of me that I call mind. Who, impotent, can not escape. I will be disillusioned, scared, worried, cover prejudices, anxieties, fears.

The nose continues to react urged sneezing from the dust; mind that continues to react producing thoughts prompted by the stimuli.

"Never ask the way to one who knows. You could not miss. "

Simone Bernard-Dupre

Religion, psychology, charismatic leaders, sages, ordinary people, looking control of their thoughts. If thought it would be easy creation. The effort to control the thoughts shows that there is creation, but reaction. We try to check what was generated by a reaction of mind an event conveyed by the senses or the mind itself.

The thought is the answer, not creation.

Thought is survival of the dangers of the material world. Thought is dependent, not independent, though under the illusion of it. It moves in response to the challenges that reality imposes. Stratifies in mind , creating the substrate of personality


Then mind is nothing but a machine, a computer that responds to a number of situations, information, input, in a way so complex that spin out of control? I'm not creator of my thoughts, but simply reactor compared to what was happening around me, inside me, the illusion that somehow you can be the pilot of myself?

If so, I would be willing to accept?

Continued ...

_

Rite Temp 6036 Review

My emotional developments of recent days has seen significant spikes in uphill and downhill, I did not miss the excitement, or fatigue or wonder, or bewilderment, or happiness. Sometimes it seems to me to live the life of another, the body of another. Probably because he hardly has time to build and to touch what belongs to me. I note, this post I'm beginning Monday, February 14, I just want to see if I can finish it and publish it ...

week I just spent the past been out working, Sexsax in Rio (Rio is right, the carnival and the samba), Santamaria with the flu and I with a strange noise in his left hand tremor.

are not alarmist, in general, I was only convinced to have a brain tumor. I was begging my doctor to prescribe a CT scan. No way, the diagnosis was: anxiety stress. He advised a week of illness (which I, of course, I did not take) and six drops of Xanax at intervals of 12 hours. Tremor is the past, in return I received blows to sleep in bursts that make me feel a soft jelly. As important

: Santamaria, as well as influenced, is also very worried. Last night, returning home from work (by the way, we are already at 15 February) I went in his room to report that dinner was ready and I found myself staring at his painting of the Virgin Mary. After several attempts we urge you to speak, the end came up with a feeble and almost inaudible "My sister is findanzzata zi". I of course I went out with a "but beeeeeene! Which sister?" and she sad "that great" and I "very well, then!" you'll see it 38 years old, is a carer in Turin and the last time I saw you had a mustache that Groucho Marx if he was dreaming at night. Santamaria disconsolate "but no no, not benizzimo ...", she turned to me with the hat wool worn down to his eyebrows, his eyes burning with fever and nose reddened by tears and shocked has articulated the following two words " is divorced."

Until that moment I had not ever realized the degree of fundamentalism of Santamaria. I knew his faith, his being profoundly Catholic, observing, among other things. But I had not realized how much was cemented to its principles. Suddenly I opened a door, and beyond I "saw" everything that she thinks of me, my life, my family, my husband! But what we have to look in his eyes? Two monsters unscrupulous, amoral and without spinal living sinners as two in the morning in the evening. I am the daughter of sin, he heretic, together we have children baptized, and only one of which, moreover, without parental consent. He turns in his underwear around the house, I say the dirty words, I have a brother who divorced often occurs in the company of women separated, a sister to his second marriage with three children, one of which had with another. Again, two separate in-laws house, a mother who is not my gay friends and practitioners engaged couples, a lesbian dentist friend of my husband, then if we get the use of contraceptives, which surely you've seen scattered in the bathroom ds and sn, playmobil and arranged by my husband in the crib, we had bingo.

After dinner, I take my courage in both hands and speak. I ask if it is good, if you feel at home with us, if you prefer a different family, more in keeping with its principles, the more "normal" Catholic, perhaps with Wojtyla's paintings hanging above the bed. We would add that we love, we see how small and takes care of Little and we are proud of you, we trust and hope that it stays with us as long as possible (otherwise mistake him for a farewell speech).

Santamaria seems lost, does not understand why my questions when I explain the issue of the boyfriend of his sister, his eyes light up and says "I'm benizzimo with you, to whom God wants you PerZone very well, and I too. "

The boundaries between the professional relationship, economic dependency, and that between sincere affection, are very unstable. It is often mixed up in confusion, and I do not know how to deal with certain situations. Santamaria is a friend now, for me, for us. Despite all our (mine and his) efforts to keep the ratio posted in the end we give in and transform our business in a ménage relationship of brotherhood. I can not imagine a life without Santamaria, a house without her magic fairy, and without his songs without his fried.

I had a nanny when I was a child. A ruddy-haired squire Swiss blue (by the way, but there are more women olders that are colored blue hair?), But I do not remember that my mother has never embraced or engaged in family affairs. But when she died, six years ago, Mutterja cried a lot. Here, you are probably much better than I had been able to define distances, perhaps suffering from the lack of emotional relationship that actually existed. Perhaps because he was more aware than me that the blue-haired lady was today, but tomorrow if someone who was paid more, there would be no more.

OK, but Mutterja is better than me in many things ...

This week was also carried out "Operation Saxophone," was all top secret, the next post I try to tell.

Blisters In The Vagna

PART ONE LOVE '- PART EIGHT

found love without looking for is' only way to find it.

J. Krishnamurti

Can I meet Love without discipline, thought, effort, book, teacher, guide? Meet him as he meets a beautiful sunset? Being immersed like a traveler lost in a day of rain, which wets the depths? Meeting him unaware, not as a result of an effort, project experience?

Like a fragrant flower that I can smell it or ignore it. The flower is there. I'll be near or far to the flower does not matter. It 'beautiful, rich aroma, distributes it to those who want to accept it. I decide to sniff deeply, looking at him with pleasure. Or ignore it. Love is there.

Love comes when it wants and how he wants, naked and free and not ask them passports with impunity because it violates customs.

Paolo Mantegazza

Love is not of time. And 'here and now. Always new, fresh, alive. It is the memory of love, nostalgia for a past. It has no yesterday or tomorrow. E 'beyond the confusion of thought. Only an innocent mind knows what it is Love. And an innocent mind can live in the world, which is not innocent.

I can find love, this wonderful size, that man seeks eternally in the sacrifice and adoration, in the relationship, sex, in any form of pleasure and pain, when my thoughts comes to understand himself, and of course comes at the end of the process of thought. The dreaded end. The love is there.

Love is blind but able to see from a distance.

Russian Proverb

go beyond the thought and time really means to go beyond the pain. Means being aware of a different dimension called love. But I can not reach the beautiful spring. I tried but I've found. I tapped, squeezed my senses, filling them with experiences to arrive at what is called Love, but did not last. I have to keep this fire will go out otherwise. And I'm tired. And this Love?

love I can reach only when I stop torturing my senses, sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, trying to make him experience what love is. Love is beyond the senses. There will access more watching, enjoying more, hearing, touching. You can rejoice in my view, to color my day and gratify my senses, but never love. Will not give him my life.

At this point many will wonder if you should spend efforts in search of that mythical Love, because so many things "is not". Maybe you can live very well without, enjoying instead the emotions that our bodies and our minds give us, without going too far in the search. In fact this is the human condition: it feeds on many things we call love, try to keep alive the feeling we call love, stimulates the senses to keep alive Love, you ask if he feels it is still love.

Love is like the fever comes and goes without that you will have no part.

Stendhal

What I found does not last forever. I understand. I'm tired, I met this really is love. What will I do then? I will fight, fight, I will try, will plan, m'impegnerò. But I realized that it will not serve. I never want to know the simulacrum of love, I've met too many times.

I do not know what to do.

I decide to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I will not hear anything, I do not believe anything anymore. Closely by the most complete, unknown, surprising silence. Despite the incentives mad, I want to stay in that silence, and they go away, because I discovered the deception and they know that there is no love, no longer can misleading. Then I realize that I do not try, do not want, do not go hunting, there is absolutely a center.

Then there is love.

That love is everything, everything that we know of.

Emily Dickinson

_

Caravel Labeled Parts

A poor female submissive, they are. (One-way dialogues)

- Did you see it was wearing?

- I have to be careful because I have sent emails without rereading.

- How do you get that stuff in that color and that bill, I say: how?

- If you prepare everything, maybe I can go without water in the throat. Pizza tonight?

- I Did I also said among other things, changed by God!

- Or maybe it's better not to have dinner and go straight to bed.

- I spent half an hour to be ashamed for her, at her age should have understood that you can not be so sloppy on occasion!

- Maybe a nice hot bath .. a massage, a little 'music ...

- Tell me what would you do? No, it is likely and I do not want you to be offended, but at the same time I must say I hated him.

- a nice glass of red wine ...

- I am a friend of hers, and I can not think about certain things without telling him ..

- .. very relaxing

- reversing the roles, if I'm the one that it is ridiculous, I would like you to tell me! No no, I must tell you, I do call it now?

- lots of sex ...

- Yes, the name now. What do you say?

-... and also a lot of sleep that I need to sleep a lot.

- Yes, but you're saying?

- What?

- How is "what"?

- do not follow you, darling, I'm sorry.

- Why?

- Why I do not give a shit.

- How can you say so?

- But you have heard what was I saying?

- Yes, you want pizza. I care about, however, looks a bit '.

- The only thing you want is not just the pizza. You might re-tune?

- No, because you do not listen to me.

- Not even you do it.

- 1-1, ball up the middle?

- Okay, where to start?

- From the pizza, after that I'm lost. And where I go on?

- You shut up.

Ibuprofen And Heart Burn

LOVE' - PART SEVEN

" Love is a disease rebel, who has his cure in itself, where the sick do not want to heal, who is not sick want to recover. "

Ibn Hazm

Love is not a product of thought. The thought is the past. Can remember, recreate love but not experience it. Love is not thinking.

Love is always on the present. It is not "love" or "I loved."

If I know love will not follow anyone. Love does not obey. I love when there is no respect or disrespect. I know love? To love without hate, jealousy, anger, condemnation, without wanting to interfere or make comparisons with what the other person does or thinks. So what does that mean?

Where there is love there is no comparison? When I love someone with all your heart, mind, body, my whole being, there is no comparison?

When I abandon myself completely in love then there is the other, there can be no comparison because the other is in me.

Love has responsibilities and duties? In duty there is no love. The structure of duty in which they are trapped destroys love. Replaces it with a pale simulacrum of nature that I know, but dare not reveal it to myself, accepting it as "love." Forced to do something out of duty, from my duty, not love what I do. I can accept it, but not love.

" Love is free, it is never subject to fate."

Guillaume Apollinaire

When there is love there is no duty or responsibility. I know, everything happens inside of me, I take a look, in full: my family, nation, creed, religion, my pain, my tears, myself, if there is no love only ugliness inside me.

When my heart sees this, it turns out really, then the truth is revealed, and shall end my pain.

find out what I want to love but I fear the truth. I fear the end of the illusion, not to find love, it's all a fiction that I have built. I applied a label that does not reflect anything, it does not contain anything. The void behind. I could not find love. I might want to destroy all fiction. I might lose your way, that I make all my life based on I love the idea, that is not love but only its representation.

But this is fear and fear is not love. If I fear, no love. Dependent is not love. It is not jealousy, possessiveness, the desire to dominate, to force myself, to manipulate my success or the good of others, the success of others with my means.

not love everything. They are simulacra in which I try to hide anger, resentment, hatred, feelings of deprivation, then conventionally defined as Love.

I asked my ex-wife to make love again. He said "over my dead body."

And I said, 'Well, yes ... as always "

Woody Allen

And 'this' love' that the company asked me to control, be accepted, predictable. Deprived of life, energy and beauty, so dangerous in an organization that wishes to remain identical to itself, devoid of disruptive life force.

responsibility and duty are not love. Self-pity either. The anguish of not being loved is not love. Love is not the opposite of hatred. So what, what ...?

Continued ...

-