The Brave Mister

 

Brave Mister
photo credit @ownherworld

 

I come in many shapes and sizes.

To some, I am a man of charisma; the kind that stifles fear and electrifies the will.

To others, I am the biggest loser; the man with a balding sense of humour.

To the art of words, I am her brave Mister; the fool that tried to tame her and failed.

I do not claim that Poetry loves me in the same manner, but tis the love Shakespeare proclaimed.

A love affair with the sublime that only ends in one way: when the writer stops writing.

I was three when I first met my muse — my Juliette of poetry?

Sparks flew when she spoke in metaphors and I in broken vows and sentences.

I made a mockery of myself; what with the diaper and the lack of sophistication?

So I strengthened my acquisition with the world; I learnt the language of Men and Bots.

I went to pre-school.

I learnt to colour in between the lines to impress her. I was fervently in love with my muse, but I could not express her. I fell sick; my muse ignored me still.

From an early age to adolescent, I buried myself in television. I let the ambient box sing me to sleep. I let it erase my talents. I dragged through life and death — then back through life. I did things I would never trade my breath for — like learning to dance with both feet. The magic was missing. There was no thrill, no spunk.

Till I read ‘My Black Is Beautiful’ by Yolanda Mabuto.

If admitting that I cried means I’ll be stripped of my right to be a man, then set me free. I was revitalised of an energy I once knew; I was alive again. And I felt my muse blink.

Ever collapse to the sensation of being home after a long trip?

I felt the same; I felt the rush of belonging to something bigger than self — of belonging to Juliette.

I read more and she spoke a little louder. We dined over Jane Austen’s passages, laughed like children in Chuck Lorre’s ‘Vanity Cards’ and survived horrors in Stephen King’s ‘Nightmares and Dreamscapes’.

The more I marched over the terrains of literature, the closer I came to my muse.

Soon, we became one; we became night and day.

And with a kiss, she vanished.

She said I was ready.

Ready for what?

Ready to write.

 

 

How To Be Alpha In A Beta World:

The first series in adopting an alpha mindset.

98tolife

Series I — Fear Of Judgement:

I cannot accurately define the term ‘alpha’ — for any attempt to do so will greatly limit its meaning.

I will, however, say that any man is justified in pursuing an ‘alpha’ state of mind — more so in this era of timidity and purposelessness found in the average personality.

One attribute of a ‘beta’ (for lack of a better term, ‘not alpha’) is people pleasing — and no matter how eloquently you may excuse this as a form of ‘kindness’ or ‘niceness’, this character trait will never inspire into success.

If anything, it is an exponential spiral towards personal failure,

— and you may not even realise this.

Why?

Because you have been conditioned to place value on opinions and judgements,

— even if they are dumbfounded,

— even if they bite down on your self-worth,

— even if they kill you,

I laugh at the absurdity (and subtle truth) of this forthcoming statement:

but the average person would rather swallow cyanide than be judged,

because judgement is its own slow, agonizing death.

This is a hard pill to swallow,

and however successful you may be, your success could easily be multiplied by a factor of ten thousand,

— if only you stopped caring what other people think about you,

How many times has a fear of judgement stopped you from pursuing your deepest, most intrinsic goals?

What will they think of me,

if I said I applied to Harvard?

What will they think of me,

if I asked for a raise?

What will they think of me,

if I wore this today?

What will they think of me,

if I asked her out?

Does this voice sound familiar?

Of course it does,

You listen to its fear-inducing hypotheticals daily.

Practice silencing it,

Practice clutching its mouth,

Because this ego-preserving voice has killed more dreams than death is blamed for,

It loves mediocrity,

— because no one questions average,

It loves comfort,

— because no one questions the norm,

It loves beta,

— because no one is threatened by beta.

You want to be alpha? You must free yourself from this fear first, anything else I say will be pointless.

Picture15

I am no advocate for narcissism,

But consciously place yourself first — always, in all that you value and believe in.

If you have to cancel a date because you need to submit a chemistry paper
— then do so.

Be the first in line when it comes to accomplishing your goals, your dreams
— your purpose. ( See A Written Letter To All Men: )

Be ruthless in virtues,

You want to be alpha?

Well, stop giving a f*#!

gaf

A Written Letter To All Men:

 

98tolife.wordpress.com
Photo Credit: Rational Male

We call ourselves kings in all that we do,

in all that we say,

We call ourselves warriors,

rebels against the tyranny of Life,

against the slithering hand of injustice,

Yet,

as long as the Earth spins in the whirlwind of reality,

as long as the Moon paints itself across the night’s sky,

We will continue to,

fail,

Unless we cast out,

fear,

and find,

purpose,

the core of your masculinity,
the heart that strings ideals and visions,
and bleeds,

purpose,

your right of passage,
the road less travelled,
your march to freedom,

purpose,

 the light that illuminates,
a pillar for humanity,

purpose,

your divine Providence,
listen to the calling,

purpose,

the hand of god in the life of Jesus,
the immortal speeches of Luther,

purpose,

reserved only for the brave,
the bold,
the magnanimous,

it wakes humanity from sleep,
slow hymns of a utopia,
listen,

please,

listen,

purpose,

to the,

lost boys,

searching,

in the abyss,

do not,

do not,

do not,

give up,

till you,

till you,

find,

purpose.