Dance Like No One is Watching

All right – I shall admit it. This is what I do nearly every night. Everyday too, almost. My imagination finds me standing in the middle of nowhere (or somewhere, if you would like). It is definitely a barren land that bears no fruit and offspring, because in my longing for quietness and alone-ness, there is no one else.

It is the tipping point of the id, the breaking line between ego and the superego. Where the self is able to completely perceive the presence of every Tom, Dick, and Harry out there… but does not give a damn.

Dance like no one is watching. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Peace.

Red Scarlet

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My Psychoanalysis

It is now September 14, 2014 – an extremely hot, sunny day.  I have just finished lunch, and replied some company stuff, so now I have another fifteen minutes to do some writing.

I have to admit – my mind is racing!  Okay, let’s relax a little bit.

My Psychoanalysis.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

My psychoanalysis. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

You see, I am very aware that I have an incredible pal to maintain.  She is still in her youth, yet unlike the rest of the infants her age, she has this beautiful, captivating silence.

She is always here, there, everywhere to me.  For me.  There is no one as patient as she is who listens a full, absolute 100% to every rant, every muse, and every single glimmer, hope, and love, and lust that exists in my heart at any point of time.  The best part is that she is always behind me as I walk  through life’s little and big journeys.  She shares my delight with me; and when I wound up in a dead end, she helps to guide me back to the open roads again so others can see me.  That is why I invest a lot of effort in setting the stage for her appearances.

She is my sexy psychologist of whom I have grown totally fond of, my very own psychoanalysis.  She does not just exist for me; she lives for you too, and that is very incredible.  I may be visiting her a little lesser these days due to my working around the clock, but I still post her my love letters every now and then.

P.  S.  I am not a lesbian.  I am in love with who I am.  Peace!

Red Scarlet

Thinking Positive

Me with my fav lecturer Ms Uma Devi who is no longer with us.  She has proved herself as a role model to her students, especially ones like me.  I am so thankful for her.

Me with my fav lecturer Ms Uma Devi who is no longer with us. She has proved herself as a role model to her students, especially ones like me. I am so thankful for her.

Having been much of a thinker for most part of my life – I have been thinking ever since I existed, and I am still thinking just so you know, and not only as a thinker, but also as an experimenter – I have arrived at the conclusion.  This one conclusion shall be the slogan for the reconstruction of the self.  It shall be the ideology upon which my life is based.

My entire days in the past was based on what had occurred in the past.  I was brilliant enough to adopt a theory about the formation of one’s unique personality, but stupid enough to attach myself to the wrong one.  Yeah, I am beautiful; that is because I look 99.9% like my dad, what with the deep-set almond eyes and full lips.  Yeah, I am smart; because Germans are the most intelligent creatures standing (yet high-flying!) and my great-grandmother happens to be German.

It got the better of me though.  Strains in the parental relationships made me a scapegoat for whatever I was doing.  I got hurt, and then my friends and colleagues and bosses got hurt also, and then finally I got hurt again.  Gah!  I practically began bashing my head up to bring back my own senses.  However, the whole cycle of negativity seemed to be revolving itself on me, because I was trying to predict the outcomes of my actions!  Do you spot the humongous head-egg (sic) that is growing out of the blue?

All because of the psychoanalytic theory.  Come on, psychoanalysis is so old-school.  It is the theory introduced by Sigmund Freud – and boy, aren’t his words and thoughts bewilderingly interesting!  It is the technique used for certain people during their visits to the psychologist – but I am not a patient!

Yet I am.  Because of that, I have decided to to close the horrid book on my own psychoanlaysis, skip through several chapters, and land, safely I hope, on the one about positive psychology, the school brought about by Dr Martin Seligman.

It is extremely simple.  Smile.  Think happy.  Be happy.  Act happy.  And stay happy.

Word of Caution: I sort of experiment with people; yeah, that is what I do.  Not for the fun of it, but rather to study their reactions.

Red Scarlet