Honesty and Dishonesty

The facts are in – almost everyone acts dishonest at least occasionally.

Seemingly most of it entails situations which don’t have much importance to the individual lying.

So those of us who think we practice complete honesty and transparency may find ourselves from time to time lying or engaging in something not quite transparent. 

The Matrix Experiment found most people will cheat to some extent

https://www.elsevier.com/editors-update/story/publishing-ethics/a-fascinating-experiment-into-measuring-dishonesty

 

“Over 40,000 people, from all walks of life, participated in The Matrix Experiments.

What did we find?

  • On average, people solved four problems but reported solving six.
  • Nearly 70% cheated.
  • Only 20 out of the 40,000 were “big cheaters”, people who claimed to have solved all 20 problems. They cost the experiment $400.
  • We also found more than 28,000 “little cheaters” who cost the experiment $50,000.”

One study has shown up to 60% of people lie

“The study, published in the journal’s June issue, found that 60 percent of people lied at least once during a 10-minute conversation and told an average of two to three lies.”

https://www.umass.edu/newsoffice/article/umass-amherst-researcher-finds-most-people-lie-everyday-conversation

Men and women lie for distinct reasons:

““Women were more likely to lie to make the person they were talking to feel good, while men lied most often to make themselves look better,” Feldman said.”

” “It’s tied in with self-esteem,” says University of Massachusetts psychologist Robert Feldman. “We find that as soon as people feel that their self-esteem is threatened, they immediately begin to lie at higher levels.”

https://www.livescience.com/772-lie.html

So possibly it boils down to self-esteem.  If our self-esteem gets mostly genuine and we practice impeccability with our words, thoughts and actions we might lie a little bit less.  In doing this it gets very helpful to realize while we aim for 100% honesty, the first step of this may come in remaining honest with ourselves and when we discern we have lied to ourselves, stop it at the level of belief and thought so the poison doesn’t flow well from our mouths.  This means non-judgement, positive or negative.  It also means we will do our best to practice feeling loving toward ourselves individually.

In my own life, this provided an opportunity to use honesty to improve my life.  In work, it meant telling the truth about products and services so customers could make their decision based on facts with little embellishment.  It also meant telling my friends and family the truth more consistently.  Mostly I found I had to say less.  I didn’t have to support anyone with false embellishments or unnecessary compliments as making someone feel better about themselves with a lie will sooner or later get discovered and my credibility with them would suffer and the relationship would weaken seriously.

I have looked at my beliefs about myself.  The teachings from parents as a child served as helpful contradictions.  My mother gave me statements about me being a special person with extraordinary talent and ability and my father told me I would never amount to anything unless I learned to work hard for everything and this would start with deprecating statements about my behavior.  I had a lot of shame to overcome and it’s not all gone.  This affords me the opportunity to work with it consistently.

A new belief which helped me had to do with first accepting I had ultimate worth on the eternal scale of value, this served me until the realization came regarding the nonexistence of self.  No self, no self-esteem needed.  This contradicted the pop psychology of its reverse theories.  In this model, all seems connected to doing and actions which come from beliefs, thought, and feelings.  Seemingly we a feedback cyclicity of thoughts producing feelings and behaviors feeding back on prevailing beliefs many of which wound up erroneous.  In changing the beliefs and stopping the limiting thoughts from guiding actions I had to do less to keep myself honest.  It also meant offering less up in unsolicited feedback, something which seemed to prevail in the “meetings” of the twelve-step cult I attended for a couple of decades.  One of the best actions I took had to do with getting away from it and the toxicity in words spoken there, when really the only thing which worked well came from the love in unspoken support.  Knowing I am loved and encouraged to love myself made me feel love for myself and others almost unconditionally.

Since moving on from there I have made beneficial and limiting decisions about my life and I dedicate myself, imperfectly, to improving beliefs, thinking, and behaviors and calling up humble, loving feelings for myself.  Much of this has come in taking better care of my body and general health.  Along the way I have been able to genuinely help some others, giving me more loving feelings in general.

In the ongoing set of conclusions, having a multifaceted set of perspectives helps me to less judgmental conclusions and statements.  Looking at what I say based on observations before I say them – this takes a lot of mindfulness to do it effectively and I have sometimes gone to almost angry extremes to defend my stated perceptions about situations only to have to make amends for the behavior in stopping myself from doing it again and making things right in my best way possible.

Honesty it seems, ought to concern the truth and truth comes from knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Reporting what happened, how I thought and felt seems like about all I can do regarding this.  Mostly, I strive to practice concise brevity as it gets too easy to slip into conjecture and verbose rhetoric.  In the utmost sense it looks like the less I believe about anything, the better as it leaves me more open to varied interpretations and perceptions which may have more objectivity.  If this seems self negating and contradictory, that will turn out a reader perspective.  I tend to characterize it more as a paradox like many other things human.

Everything-we-hear-is-an-opinion-not-a-fact.-Everything-we-see-is-a-perspective-not-the-truth.-Marcus-Aurelius

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2017MHumunculero

what you imagined

The swagger,

The stumbling drift,

A slurred thought,

Laughter at someone’s hopeful fantasies

Of Death,

The release,

The big sleep…the resting which never ends.

The moments of life pass and come again

In the eternity which validates itself in

Perceptions

Confabulations of the egos

Which influenced belief

Whence came the lands of

Suspension of beliefs and no beliefs

Just tools for more pleasurable moments…

 

©2017mhumunculero

Thorndart

Deep sleep so soft and dark, dark without remembered dreams. I woke up drooling remembering another bloodlust, a hunt for a crazed fucker, a beater of women. Women he couldn’t subjugate or dominate by virtue of presence and appreciation.
They remain a pleasure to send to dark demise, not without grievous torture.

This is a torture without hands on, a series of awful occurrence. I sent the entity of my own making into his deep mind to find his greatest pains and fears. The entity absorbed them and grew. It injected them into his emotional source and its deepest triggers. I had no desire to know what they were only to have my creature find them, trigger them and make them cause him great anxiety and pain. He spent sleepless nights and dragging days of little accomplishment filled with remorse and insecurity. He made mistakes at every turn. He sabotaged every relationship and person dear to him. He fumbled in his career and alienated his colleagues and customers. He wrecked his car and his truck. He appeared like a child to his lover. She left him in disgust. She craved his punishments and now he could no longer give them. She insulted him unabated. She lied to him and he did not try to catch her in them. She hit him without his counterpunches and beatings. He cried like a child and whined to her and pissed his pants. She could take it no more.

He got more and more pathetic. He hurt morning and night. His days and nights were torture. He longed for death and fantasized killing himself or driving someone else to kill him. He imagined himself a target of the angel of Death.
And so once again the dank, cold pleasure of the drawing of a death curse filled me like a sweet drink of cold nectar. Black and thick, sickeningly sweet and bitter at the aftertaste. Pleasing until the end like the intromission period after a long orgasm. Cold, cold, cold like the best quietude on a moonless night. And so I remembered all the energies of entropy that surround the deaths of the guilty and deserving of their murder yet never done by another person or by suicide. More like getting hit by tumbling debris from a demolished building or getting hit and run over by a convoy of trucks, feeling pain long after dismemberment and disbursement of his remains, like living hamburger with raw nerves exposed and turned up with pain.

In a cold decided demeanor I called the runes, vibrating them and feeling their export to the ethers with attendant dark colors. I stood on the bind rune, the sigil of this target’s demise in the center, calling the Gods of death and entropy visualizing the target’s engulfment in darkness while stabbing him in effigy in the heart of the sigil. The Gods came cold upon him, sweeping him into the terror they invoke in others who do not understand the fruition in destruction and death as the pathway to rebirth or oblivion. It passed, cold, and black, blind in the opaque flatness of it.
“Die, die, die, die, die…” the chant went on and on fading with the burning of the incense and burnt parchment. Robe removed and folded reeking of Saturn incense I went into the night to drink tea and listen to death metal dirges droning me into the early morning towards sleep again at dawn and an amnesia of the night’s events.
In the days which followed everyone who wished great harm upon the target seemed to accumulate wishing him imaginatively greater and greater demise.

Finally, one night on his way home he drove past his neighborhood to a street leading out of town into a mountainous part of the desert. Low peaks of broken basalt adding to the overall darkness. The road faded to dirt. He drove up on a ghost town looking set of structures until finally a small bar appeared as a corner structure drawing him inexorably toward it. He parked, went to the doorway and walked in through a short corridor. The bar was low lit mostly from the floor. The bar stools were nearly all occupied except for a stool on the far end. Lowered volume droning music gave a depressed drone. Our target sat down on the end stool and noticed all the customers were hooded, dressed in black, faces obscured. He noticed a painting on the wall of a demonic Ulysses with eager expressing slaying all of Penelope’s suitors with the bow only he could string. The painting seemed to be oozing blood onto the floor. A woman walked up to him from the back of the room, came up to him, stomped on his toes with pointed heels, drawing blood. Another man walked up and stabbed a needle like long dagger into his shoulder to draw the most pain. Soon a crowd formed, kicking him, cutting him, bludgeoning him to submission then picking him up, waking him and beating him further, finally the crowd took him to the alley behind the bar and they chained him to four cars, one for each limb, waiting for the signal to pull him apart. And so they did, very slowly tearing his already agonized form to pieces and finally shards mixing their blood and his guts into the desert soil.
I saw the entire terrifying tale in a special report on the news the next day.

A cool, dark gloating came over me. I had been gone from these enchantments too long.

 

©humunculero2015

 

 

The Doorway…continues

 

He expected her to be drunk, musing over something. Bemoaning something. Having an inner groan on a health issue.

“What the fuck Mondo…You, you just show up at my door. Did you think you could come all this way and expect me to fawn over you?”

She rushed on him, almost tackling him. He braced and held her fiercely, yet gently. She looked him deeply in the eyes. She almost glazed over and softened quickly to tears.

“You bastard…you know I have always wanted to meet you. I don’t know what you’re expecting…”

“Sunshine, I was in bed. I just …”

“I can smell what you were doing. I can see what you were doing… How the fuck do you get here so quickly after sex? You couldn’t have been down the street, I know who’s around here.”

“Seriously, I just did some sex magic without the intention of actually coming here. Here I am in the flesh. Winded and sweaty.”

She pressed into him in a loving way, “You’re not sweaty. You smell like sex though…who were you with?”

Lying: She looked just like you. I found her at a bookstore. We had coffee, exchanged numbers hung out, read books…went to dinner, talked, she invited me home…

“You’re such a pig, Mondo. You’re not getting any of me!!!”

“Hell, I had no conscious intention of coming here. I was enjoying myself just fine. I could’ve stayed with her indefinitely…”

“You’re so full of shit about that…” her Midwestern accent came through kind of nasal…He loved her face and different profiles…he’d kept trying to get her to talk to him on the phone.

“Mondo? Where are you? What happened?”

Diane has just come out of her orgasmic trance, sleepy, dreamy, wanting to come again…she felt so comfortable with him. It felt so right to give all of herself. He is there like a rock…so present, so real. He licked her the way she’d always wanted and mounted her after a series of intense climaxes…no one had ever done it quite that way…she felt like they had fused. Like they were made to fit together perfectly…

“Monnnnnnnddooooo, you bastard! Where are you? Come in here and let me kiss you again…”

OMG…his kisses, she thought. He’d let her kiss him first.

“Di, kiss me the way you like being kissed, like you’ve always wanted to be kissed.”

Oh, she did and he kissed her back better than it had ever happened…fuck! How would she keep him around, if anything just to fuck…this made her admit to herself how much she loved to fuck and get fucked…he made her feel loved when they talked and the way he listened to her, not judging her. Just looking at her with an open stance. He seemed and acted so confident when she let loose with all her crazy feelings and thoughts about her life and experiences. He seemed perfectly accepting of her, no matter what. She could almost feel his heart beating across a table like her head lay on his chest. When they came together it was like a love affair that had consummated and grown and increased in intensity over time…

“Mondo! Where are you?”

He was gone. His clothes were on the bed and draped over the chair, shoes on the floor. Fuck! She got up walked around the apartment. He wasn’t on the patio. The doors were locked from the inside the way she had set them when they came in.

“Well, what am I going to do with you Mondo?”

“Honestly Sunshine, I don’t know…I am kind of freaked. I have never teleported this way before…I mean this is like the travel modality I have always wanted to master.”

“This is too weird Mister…” She still held him and he held her…Godfuckingdamnit, he really loved her…this is just too weird. These were not the clothes he’d worn out with Diane.

“Well, I was just about to go to the liquor store before it closes. Tomorrow is Sunday and they don’t open till eleven…”

“Sunday, shit. It was Friday night at her house…”

“OK Mondo, that’s enough of this…we have to figure out how to get you home. I don’t know if I want you to stay here!”

Damn he was handsome and strong. She still held on to him. She could just stay there.

“Can I just ride you piggyback to the store? It’s only two blocks.”

She didn’t want to let go. It felt so safe and secure. Yet she also felt that he could be murderous and fucking diabolical and a dirty man slut…shit, dangerous to the touch…damn this feels good.

He released her. She had put her legs around his waist while holding him, and he could feel her warmth and was beginning to have a change in blood flow. It seemed time to push off for now.

“I’ll have to think about the piggy back…”

She wanted to bite him and taste his skin and blood…no, not really. She wanted to rake his back with her fingernails and bite his tongue…she wanted to sit quietly with him and just talk and wonder…

“OK lady, jump on!”

“Cool, you have to promise you will not let me love you very much…I am very scared. I almost pissed myself…” It wasn’t urine.

They went out the front door. She locked up.

“I’m ready old man!”

“I’m ready pretty lady.”

She jumped on. They walked the two blocks. She wasn’t sure about him. He wasn’t exactly like other men she’d been attracted to-other men she’d loved. He sure felt good.

“I am so blown away that I was 2500 miles away and now I am here. Fucking too weird.”

“Here’s the store!” they’d walked up a back street turned a corner, and there it was…a liquor store, next to a laundromat. She jumped off, grabbed his arm, hooking hers to it…she walked up to the counter.

“Captain Morgan, quart bottle, please…”

“I got this sweetie.” He smiled at her. As always a wad of cash in his left hip pocket, wallet and plastic in the right one.

“Well buddy, you won’t have any problem getting out of town will you?” By the way, I am not driving to the city! You know how I hate the place…”

Oddly enough, his phone was in his pocket.

“I’ll get a flight out tomorrow, no problem…”

“Where you going to stay tonight?” She with a shit eating grin…

“Couch me, please…don’t want you to get the wrong ideas…”

Bastard, she thought. How would he know what I want with him? I don’t know what I want with him.

Back at her place she got a little drunk…weird. She’d actually sobered up. They talked until dawn, fell asleep.

They woke up the first time…10am on her phone seven on his…her head was on his chest they’d purred while sleeping…

“I am too tired. You don’t have to leave yet, right?”

He didn’t say a word just looked at her.

“Alright we can go lay on the bed.”

He wiped sleep slightly away. “You promise you won’t take advantage of me?”

“No worries buster. Come on…”

This time she snuggled nicely. The fell back to sleep immediately. When they woke again it was 230PM.

“Shit, I’d better call the airport…”

“No, I feel safe, please stay…”

“OK.”

She was already asleep again. He fell out completely.

Much later. Later. It felt like YEARS and YEARS LATER, he woke up in this weird space outside, at the mouth of a cave by the shore of a lake. He felt he was standing. Gazing out at the horizon, he could see the Moon rising. Its reflection shimmering silver and gold in the lake. There was a loud bellowing like cattle but not cattle, like something very large, like a two ton bullfrog. There’s no goddamned frogs this large. There never was, not even 200 or 300 million years ago…Fuck, where am I, where is she? The water was black, opaque. Something was moving toward him without splashing. He couldn’t see it, barely hear it. Her head popped out, then her body…Damn, she was all wet glistening in the moonlight, beautiful, visual poetry.

“Hey you fucker. I am not that hot! Get your clothes off and get in this water with me. Catch me if you can.”

She slid back in and began backing out. He peeled off his clothes and came after her, swimming very close. She teased, keeping him at arm’s length.

“You ain’t getting it….naw, naw, naw…”

There was a huge splash, sending waves over their heads, erasing any romance or passion from the moment. Two large fishlike, no amphibian like eyes maybe a foot across moved toward them, staring dead on, chortling at boat motor volume.

This time, he’d eaten the scorpion…

 

 monsta frog

“You fucker! Where were you?”

Diane was on him with a passionate vengeance, naked. His hard curve past the navel steering into her with her greatest deliberation.

“Where the fuck did you go…you disappeared all day. I was scared shitless. Were you running around outside naked? Hmmmm.”

He looked at him, bearing down with all her strength on the length of him.

“Fucker, you weren’t under the bed. You weren’t hiding in the closet. The windows were locked!”

She had pushed him down flat and was jackhammering him, supine. She came. She came. She stopped. She started. She came. She could feel the semen rising up from his body and balls. He came in long hot, copious amounts that ran out of her onto him.

He passed out again.

 

He would fight this fucking monster with enchantment. Send it back through the abyss whence it came… she was on him from behind in the water keeping them both afloat while the frog monster came rushing at them full bore…

“Havawang, Chiatio Duxobum! Havawang! Ujachek, datk, datk…” the chant flew out of him with a great violence and she was terrified as a great, long, slimy tongue, covered with sharp bristles wrapped itself around them and in the sky a great winged serpent appeared, glowing red against the night sky…

 tiamat-chaos

To be continued…

©2015MHumunculero

the doorway

daath

This morning felt a little unsettling…

Some days started very well. Some male would spend the night…the sex was usually good. All this wound up short lived to a good end.

This morning, outside the door some kind of disturbance had appeared as though some kind of portal was opening from another place. She hadn’t walked out yet. She felt it and when she peered out the window she could see the shifting warping space.

She was thinking about HIM.

He stayed in her mind, only as a pleasure at a safe distance. He wouldn’t move to her. He wouldn’t come get her. He wanted her in his domain. It felt so safe and comfortable to love him with all her power and her passion, knowing he would be there regardless of situations and who they chose to be with at any time. When she wanted his love, she thought of him and felt it. She could feel his body behind hers, holding her when convenient and needed. She wanted him and was content at a distance…

“Fwwwhhhhpppppp!!!” The front door shut tightly, sealing the inside of the house from the head and wind.

“Ahhhh, I love my home.” The little black Bombay Cat starting with her high pitched mewing brushed his pant leg….

“Kitten! You do love your daddy heh?”

He sat down his black leather, soft brief case and walked to the master bedroom and into the bathroom to unload a voluminous piss and change clothes. He thought of her and sighed. He knew she loved him and how much more it would increase had she come here to live and flourish in his presence. She already had this too safely…she had no idea of the emotional dangers in him. She liked this excitement in the right context where excitement ends in the right type of pain for her and eventually pleasure.

She felt content as his muse. She viewed his sexual escapades for years and served as a friend, knowing deep inside there would be so much more, so much more.

And so she found her pleasure in other men without the complete fulfillment…

Damn it felt good to shake it out, to relax, and to ease into another evening.

If he could just walk into the next room into another place other than through a dream…

Weeks before in a mountain cave, the creature grew three faces; serpent, eagle, and bear. A Chimeric body of elephant, giraffe, and dragon wings…with flocks of Fire tailed swallows to gather all desired outcomes and artifacts of enchantment. It would be called by the chant and the entity it came from.

 

Like a special treat spread before him a meal of delights…

“You have the most special talents…I love it, I love my Oso…” She sank back into the purple sheets moving closer to the peaks so many have not experienced.   The doorway opened.

As this happened, he fell in the vortex of pleasure, sucked in…she came again and again, squealing in a set of colloquialisms he semi understood…she couldn’t take any more, he eased off, stood over the edge of the bed, pushing back the chair he’d sat in…

“Now my time has come…” His mind was whirling into the abyss, his entities of health, wealth, and sexual pleasure dancing about him while he chanted their mantras under his breath.

He grasped the erect, congested staff of throbbing, oozing deliveries of sex love guiding it into her with a deliciously slow deliberation…

“Oi, oi, oi…ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh…”

He began the rhythms he learned she loved and pulsed deeper and deeper seeing doorway after doorway open in and out of the abyss.

“Daaaaaaaaaatttttthhhh…” he said in a whispering growl, “Daaaaaaaaattttthhhhhh”.

She reached another set of plateaus and the muse flittered subconsciously into her body, expanding and taking the ecstasy into her consciousness as love, the kind of love that comes only through touch and a deep trance.

The elixir began its inexorable mixing as the man goo rose up out of his balls and he convulsed and shouted while squirting deep into her final throes of bliss that melted into her smile, eyes closed.

“Mamasota~!!!”

He lowered himself forward, face down to feel the next ten minutes of his body orgasm, falling through the doorway into the space outside her door.

She looked out at him, eyes beautiful and brown soft, “How the fuck did you get here?”

He began to laugh…

 

©2015mhumunculero

To be continued…