How I lost all my friends. A short (story, play) and a commentary. The not getting along of friends. Try to duplicate the dialog and discussion that takes place between (Friend 1) and I and (Friend 2) and I. The discussion that leads me to so much ugliness (on my part). Why do I get that way? Can people see thru it, though? They remain my friends. Would you believe, dear notebook, that I actually caused a couple last night at a restaurant to almost leave because of my (inner hate) anger. There are moments where I feel bad about what I caused–but only moments. The thing I am learning about so much failure in life is that as you age with failure the failure becomes harder to control. It literally self perpetuates. It’s worse than (alcohol) addiction. It is not the anger and ugliness, both inherent results of failure that causes (my) blood to boil, but instead the deep hole that seems to grow before my eyes as the situation gets out of my control. I guess this is the circumstance that leads so many humans to their dire straights. A foundation for religion. Another foundation for fascism. Don’t get too far off topic. (*) This is a great explanation, perhaps even a counter explanation, regarding those who run amok. Those who randomly kill with guns and violence. Taking innocence–not innocence in a religious sense but innocence in the idear that the victim didn’t get to his/her gun faster than the perpetrator. Taking innocent lives with them on their extravagant exit from our/this hell. They do so because of, not anger, but the continual fear of failure. Is this part of LOP? Was it part of Chad? Failure is the work of the heavens not of the devil. The devil wants humans to be successful. It’s now God’s doing in this world. The devil wins/succeeds and god… Oh the destruction, the dysfunction. What was the moment in history where the killing for god stopped and man took over the killing. This the conflict of free-will? Free. And. Will. (*) Continued from previous astrix. My anger and ugliness is a result of the hole. Of course I need to control it–get it under control–and perhaps this is a first step. Recognition. An amazing comment, thought: The lack of power the failure has. So much put into it and so little return (except for my anger). What does failure equate with? Whatever that may be. Find it. No. Make it up. The arguments with “friends” which have lead to my loss of them all, well not all, fall into my abyss because of my want to learn, to succeed. Why is that wrong? I read. I read to learn. Hence great apprehension to be entertained by the written, by the worst-written, the failed text of moi. When discussing and vocalizing what I have achieved auto-didactically doesn’t fit into any one’s shame of life. Wait. Getting tired. It is not knowledge from any other source. Stop.