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Because you and all other unenlightened people have split personalities to various degrees of amount and intensity, we are all Dependent Vampires, stealers of energy. The only way out is through the advanced techniques of Meditation Energy Enhancement. To connect to a higher level of energy, which can never fail and to integrate these split off parts of your personalities back into the Central Soul Stem. Then we do not need the energy and attention of people around us. We start to give energy. Everyone becomes happy in our presence! Then we can comfortably destroy these negative split off thoughtforms which exist with our and everyone’s minds, in our lives. Only when we become enlightened do we become Independent. Until that time we can depend on people not to be able to fulfil their promises, without a lot of penalties. This is the Law of Moses. We can depend on people to follow their childish split personalities. The problem with monogamy has always been boredom because as I explained, the traumatised childish split personality will use any childish excuse to cut off the flow of sexual energy. They are not logical. Because of this, the initial passion drops off pretty rapidly in a typical relationship, but not the lust of sexual desire. Eventually, the right (or wrong) set of circumstances come together and you have infidelity. It’s not that people are bad, just they are split personalities. To be a split personality is to be childish, to be emotional, and to have expertise with sexual energy. Its just that you, the main personality is not in charge of it. For men and women, being sexual means they sometimes think with what is between their legs instead of what is inside their head. But a split personality is single minded , ruthless and often as not, amoral. A split knows only desire, and when the hot sexual energy is active, you might as well be dealing with an addict. At such a moment all a split can think of is how to get the next fix. At such times there are few split personalities alive who can resist the inviting smile on a pretty woman’s face, or the parting of her legs. As you know, there are plenty of reasons to choose not to forgive and forget. But what if you have created a long beautiful life together and your partner is a wonderful parent to your children? What if you feel just as much to blame for the infidelity because you had pushed them away for too long, some independent, childish, emotionally dependant split off parts of your personality having stopped the flow of your unconscious sexual energy from base chakra to base chakra. From Penis to Ovary using the psychic sex connection. What if they had made an honest effort to work things out with you but you just kept pushing them away because of the lack of energy flow caused by one of your split personalities? Having stopped the flow of sexual energy from base chakra to base chakra. From Penis to Ovary using the Psychic Sex Connection. What then? Just because you want to forgive them doesn't mean that you can forgive them. How do you forgive and forget? The bible may tell us to turn the other cheek, but how? How do you do it? There's a big difference between saying, "I forgive you" on a generic spiritual level and saying, "I forgive you" on a personal heart to heart level. The key to real forgiveness must involve trust but how can it when people are just following their emotions? And how can you trust a split personality? And this is the case with 99.99% of humanity. At some level you have to really believe in your heart of hearts that you can trust this person to never ever repeat such a painful choice again. Well, I believe that you must forgive the person anyway. With childish split personalities you can say, "Forgive them Lord, They know not what they do" Jealousy and the ego necessity for a monogomous relationship will cause all the problems within us because we want the other person to love us and to be there only for us. We force people to be monogamous, to be chattel, or we throw them out If you don't really believe that they will be subservient to you, then your selfish ego isn't really going to forgive them and the underlying resentment will eat away at whatever is left of the foundation of your relationship. The most important barometer of how easy or hard it is to forgive is how they behave after the event. Do they browbeat you with comments like, "Look I said I'm sorry. Get over it already." Or are they beating themselves up for having caused you this pain? Are they offering to jump through hoops to prove to you that they have learned a horrible lesson and will make damn sure it never happens again? The intensity of their apology and their willingness to allow you to feel the pain of it will have a direct impact on your ability to heal from the infidelity and on their ability to rebuild trust in your eyes. If they demand that you simply trust them on their word and they have done nothing to show you that they are taking full responsibility for the broken trust, then leave them. It's not your fault that they broke the trust even if you were not emotionally available to them, the breach of trust was done on their part. You can't force yourself to trust someone again. Just like when our teenagers lie to us and have to earn back our trust, it's no different between adults whether the trust was broken in a marriage or a business relationship. It's their job to recreate that. They need to find their own way back. The fact is, Only when we become enlightened, when we have healed all the split off parts of our personalities do we become able to fulfil our promises. Until then we must forgive, and expect infidelity. The brains are emotionally in the balls when the Splits are in charge. As Tolkien says, "Evil Is" And it is true that some people are more evil that others. And it is this you must really judge. Only when you have absorbed and healed all your split personalities into the central soul personality. When there is only One! Can we trust a person. Until then we can trust the unenlightened split personalities of all evolutionary levels to break all their promises. We can trust no-one without a lot of penalties. We can trust no-one who is not enlightened! This is the Law of the Christ. History for thousands of years proves this. Forgive and Forget. Turn the other Cheek. It is only your Selfish Competitive Ego which gets Hurt because you Selfishly Want. Because you unskillfully trusted a person who always changes their mind. And as the many split personalities take charge, one by one, this is exactly what happens. People change their minds. 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The Forest As we drove farther into the outskirts of Augsburg, looking out placidly across the top of cars, houses, and at the dogs running about, I got thinking, thinking how I felt being with Chris, about Chris. It was like I was cast into a spell, an enchantment, or perhaps a curse; very seldom did I ever feel like this. Normally I would feel like this only if I was in the presence of a great person, like my karate instructor in San Francisco, Gosei Yamauchi, or his father ‘The Cat’ Gogan, who was one of the few 10th degree black belts in the world. Normally I’d be high the whole next day. With Chris I felt the same way I knew tomorrow I’d be high all day, it was a natural high. Once—I can’t remember when—I had read something about the poet Emily Dickinson, she was something like a recluse, but she made a poem indicating nature was her high, and I always remember that. How true this can be, grabbing the moment and cherishing it, absorbing it as if there was no tomorrow, and at the same time absorbing nature: the sounds and the heart beat mother earth, and sky; others humans, and the dogs and birds, all such things that at that moment surround you; they are all somewhat magical. I was learning, how to be a listener if anything and it entailed all things within your presence. Chris was fully alive now, as I turned my head towards her delectation her steering wheel facing me, at which made the moment a little more interesting, as she felt good about me checking her out; a weary kind of sense, not defeat, just a good profile look; I thought dimly in my mind as she drove mile after mile: how could she afford to look so prim and proper all the time. Do her hair in a unique style, not a hair out of place, so it seemed. I guess in our own way we are all unique, I heard that someone say that someplace, not sure where. An hour and a half had passed on by and she was still driving, and it was getting dark. She pulled into a wooded area; she said it was the outer rim of the Black Forest (otherwise known as the Eyebrow of the Woods), I think I heard of that forest in a fairytale book or at least that is where my mind said I got it from. An enchanting name, I must had said it my second self, that little person inside of all of us that we talk to: Black Forest, Black Forest…! “So you see,” said Chris “…here we are!” She added her conclusive little smile to her face as she said that; as we entered the dark huge green forest, parking the car a little off to the side of a dirt road that lead into the deeper and more distant part of the forest, partly covered by trees and bushes now. There was a chill in the air so I rolled up the window, as she turned on the radio for some music. Very quickly and carefully she moved her thin reserved neck and shoulders into my area, she just starred at me, as if she was going to eat me up; as her left arm was lowered, it pulled out a bottle of Mosel-Saar-Ruwer wine, 1965 wine, -- I looked the bottle over 9.5% volume; I knew they had been making wine around this intriguing river and hilly area for close to 1700-years. It was good wine I had tasted it before, not sweat or dry, flowerily white wine to be exact. “Now,” said Chris indignantly, but with the air of a certain point, “…let’s see what we can do with this battle. We started to drink and laugh. “Ah, yes,” I said to her, “you have a lovely profile.” She smiled and threw her head back. “Well,” I thought out loud “… this is a good way to pass the night away, and begin romantic indecencies”-- she leaned over the center-divider of the bucket seats to kiss me. She opened her mouth, sunk her lips on mine, as she pulled her long legs to the under-part of the dash, she then started to unzip her zipper to her boots. “This,” commented Chris “passes everything…I never did it in a car before.” She had drunk down 1/5 of the wine like a person drinking water. “Chick,” said Chris, ”…come over here.” I moved my body closer to hers. Everything seemed to be in the way. I could not back out of whatever was going to happen; and I knew what was in the makings. She was starting to stretch her hands out: --her blouse went over her head, I just kept looking as she started to strip, I was growing, getting as hard as a pencil. “Oh, damn Chick,” said Chris heartily as she touched my item. Just her saying that aroused me; then pulling off her bra, and her skirt up I seemed to become tranquilized somehow, my mind slipped to King Solomon, of all things, as he once defined the beauty of a woman’s body and how it was to measured for one’s pleasure by enjoying it fully, and this was all I wanted to do now—enjoy it, and I think Chris was feeling the same way for even though we were both a bit on the tipsy side we were fully aware of our responses, I had lost complete focus of the uncomfortable situation, as she did… ◊…now that she was almost completely stripped only her panties on, she curled up in a fetus position holding her legs and leaning back, then opened up her legs slowly… I thought what every on earth possessed her, yet who can predict women I told myself, and started to take off my cloths, quickly…getting out of this spill of sorts. I guess it is true, men like to observe, and women like to touch. I liked both. This was not dirty sex, this was pure sex, at its height, one might even say, it was like a painting; she painted the picture, she taught me how to enjoy what she had to offer. “I’m going to get it all off in a minute,” I said, it was difficult working in this cramped space… she chuckled, “Slowly please, I can wait…”she softly said as she rested her head back and I caught my breath, that is what she wanted, that is, for me to calm down, yet remain hard and possessed with her offering: I think we both had multiorgasms “I feel fine now –“ I said, adding, “cramped but fine…☺” Chris opened up her arms I couldn’t back away after that, could I? I told myself: I have a private room at the barracks…. Then said it out loud to her: “Of course, -- next time…” said she, and we continued to make love for the third orgasm for me, for her, perhaps five or six. We seemed to flop around the front seat finding the right position…’she‘s looking at me eeeeeeeee’, I told myself, I’m cramped, nothing to grab a hold of, her head leaning against the glass of the window. Without a word we continued: --my body heavy onto hers, my heart beating two-hundred ticks a minute, we both were hot, enmeshed in the moment, a lustful, and burning moment; I wanted to open the door, but feared the light going on and someone would see us, plus the air was cool, too cool. I had no escape we met each other’s eyes as I penetrated her. She looked again deep into my eyes as she tried to catch her breath, to make sure I was still alive I think. It was seemingly unfair for me to put her through this I thought, but the thought only lasted a half second, I found myself exploding … as my heart dropped to my feet, and again, and again, I exploded and burned as if I had opened myself up to a volcano; I had learned at that moment, the difference between happiness and pressure: happiness was listening to her talk before, and then came her smile, now the pleasure, sex; I hurt, this had never happened before. “Nice evening, isn’t it?” I said as I started pulling her body closer to me. “I hope you are not offended I am taking the lead?” said Chris. “Not at all,” I said, adding, “I’ll catch up.” “There are times,” said Chris, “when rules are made to be broken like now, them...mmm damn silly rules…” she pulled herself up a bit, “I stopped believing in those rules… this is one of those moments I want to remember…remember for a long time, even after I am dead.” As we tried to untwist our bodies, we caught ourselves laughing at our odd situation. We had made love, and became a little more sensitive with each other…a little more possessive of each other, I guess that is the nature of things in a relationship, they are made to progress, or stop, one or the other, and it was never to take place again in the front seat of a Mustang I knew…. She laid her cheek against my hand. “Chick.” “Yes?” “You realize don’t you, this can’t end here?” “There’s no reason for it to end, is there?” “No.” She spoke some German words I didn’t understand, German mingled with English I should say: then somehow, she went silent…maybe she was taking time to remember the moment, digesting it; I didn’t know, nor did I want to try to guess, I just looked at her, her smile it seemed to promise something, grace; instinct was in it also, around her small enclosed eyes, as they opened and shut slowly they were weaving a web I do believe, “It won’t end here, I promise.” Pleasant and agreeable-like a well-cultured woman she was, maybe too much for me, she opened the door, and dressed quickly, then got back in. “Want a cigarette?” I asked, sitting up straight. “No and neither do you. We are both restless it seems. Come over to me,” she started kissing me. As she released her lips from mine, she sat upright now, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and started blowing smoke rings into the air. “You know perfectly well, I’m very much attracted to you…yoouuuu… right?” “I hope so, I feel the some way.” “Luckily the wine deadens the bruises (discoloration).” I commented, she laughed and kind of stretched her back to put it back in place…”Me to,” she replied. “I wish all relationships could start like ours, it is like saying let’s drop all the game playing and pretend we are on the fifth date, and cut the crap; I like you Chick, I like you very much…” “The bruises will show up tomorrow,” I told Chris. Kind of saying maybe we should go, but neither one of us seemed to be all that bothered with that so we simply started kissing again after her cigarette brake…it was a long and needed pause for me, for a second breathe, a refractory period I needed [from uninterrupted sex]; that is, having multiple orgasms drains a man. I’ve learned also, women don’t need this rest period; so in time I’d learn how to last longer, and perhaps stretch the orgasms thinner but again, longer (three hours at the most; and I did). I thought in my head, she was having sex with me, and then that rich boyfriend she had; she was getting her multiorgasmic pleasures indeed, perhaps a secret to some women, for once they discover this, it is hard for any man to keep up with them, lest he be a superman of sorts. I did not even at that young age have the capacity to pass six organisms; five was my limit I learned. I was limp now; my penis had been as pointed as a scorpions tail a while ago. As scary as it started out for me I thought my reactions afterwards was cool, I seemed to be letting things take their natural course. It was a dark and colorless evening. Grossly romanticized in such an unimpressive way (so I thought in the back of my mind), yet Miss Chris was perfect. I thought to myself: maybe she might be annoyed with my lovemaking… I guess every man wants to please the woman, wife, girlfriend, the one he is making love to, or should want to please her, but most don’t; how can they, they pop too quickly. This is a fact, I’ve talked to men, and when they say they go so quick, no woman could get it on in that time period. A woman taught me how to hold myself from climaxing too early, thus allowing the woman to catch up—and therefore, allowing my female mate to get it on and enjoy. I know this evening went a little fast, but Chris was modest about it, like that other woman who had taught me, helped me, to help her, so we both could enjoy each other more; as my slowing down kept my penis hard longer, allowing her pleasure zone to become wider. This was something of the case in hand, but not completely. Most men think they make love better drinking, but it’s far from the truth. Most men do not know how to make love, no one taught them, so all they do is f*ck, and that is not love, that is, if anything, a quick climax, like eating a big fat burger, and wiping your mouth in its enjoyment and then leaving the café only to find out: you got indigestion, and had you went to a nicer restaurant, ate slower, you’d never forget the meal. I have experimented with that theory, and it is nine-minutes verse four-hours, I say four hours, but I knew in my head it was only one time I lasted four hours, two and a half was the norm. I was thinking now—as Chris kissed me—how I owe some women a bit of gratitude for allowing me to have my pleasure and not returning it to them; that’s the caretaker in a woman I think. But women just don’t know men can learn. And men are too bull-headed to let women teach them what pleases them. I had learned a good lover was worth his weight in gold and even maybe a little more: sometimes they can be irresistible. One could hardly tell her it wasn’t hastily done, our sex (to me it was) for it was, but she seemed to understand the circumstances, and we need not prove anything today, only allow our bodies to be sanctioned to the other. So I think we both felt. Lovemaking would improve as time went on. “I’m afraid my lover, we will have to find better accommodations next time,” Chris said, smiling at me. “Yes,” I hesitated, “absently,” I hesitated-- “I feel the same way.” “It’s a little hard in such a cramped car luckily we are both a little tipsy….” “I’m afraid I’m not, somehow I sobered up when you took your blouse off.” She smiled, with a grin. “Yes. I sense you have, do you really like me Chick?” “You are growing on me. And what is there not to like?” She was like a schoolgirl at times, needing to be encouraged, to grow up, and needed to be admired. But she didn’t need permission to live, she was taking that—but I’m learning to appreciate women more, I told myself, and it seems the more I show appreciation, the more they respect me, and to be quite frank with myself, I need respect. And why not … the world will give it, if you demand it, and if not, let that part of the world go; so my second self, my mind’s eye, told me. But then as I looked at her, if she really felt she was on death row, with cancer, maybe I was just a remedy for a while, and if so, so what, maybe I needed a remedy to make it through my time here in Germany; so seemed just to me. 8 The Spider and The Web A warm-wind had picked up it seemed, and April and May in Germany was a paradise of light-cool sunrays, it was a spring never to forget, Chris and I were growing on one another, like white on rice. More community drinking fairs were picking up and Chris and I tried to make a few, drink it up and eat and just go with the flow; it was a good time for living. 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