Bryn Athyn is a Codependent society.

Codependent may not be the entirely correct word. I’ve just been noticing something very odd about the way the people in Bryn Athyn act, almost as an entity.

Another phrase that comes to mind is ‘undifferentiated ego mass'(which is a term used to describe a family unit whose members possess low differentiation and therefore are emotionally fused,¬† source –

I’m not trying to be intentionally insulting. I just don’t think it’s a healthy way function.

I’m sure it’s a common phenomena in other closely linked communities and, also, probably a lot of cult scenarios.

In the simplest form, I guess it could be considered focused social pressure, similar to peer pressure.

The problem with this kind of pressure is that when someone does something because of it, it is not a genuine act. It’s great to keep people who aren’t going to behave well in general in order, but it’s not great for inspiring genuine charity.

I’m all about the genuine shit.

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There must be a Division among us.

There must be a Divide.

Some of us are unjust. Some of us are untrue.

There will always be a Division among us. There must be a Division.

There are those who lie, there are those who steal, there are those too weak to come into the light.

These are unworthy. There must be a Division among us.

There is hell on one side. There is heaven on the other. There is a Division among us.

There must be a Division among us.

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The Little Things

The works of Emanuel Swedenborg describe a process of shunning evils as sins. They describe a process of self examination and desisting from the evil wants inside of ourselves.

For anyone who truly believes in the works of Swedenborg it shouldn’t come as a huge shock to find that there are evils present inside themselves.

What has been the most surprising for me is how it generally isn’t something that seems completely diabolical that links me to the ‘evils’ inside me. I have desires that are destructive and I tend to think that it would be best if I stopped desiring things that are destructive.

I guess the struggle between good and evil is not as extreme as it is often portrayed. Generally, I find the difference between  good and evil to be merely valuing one thing a little more than it should be valued and another thing a little less than it should be valued.

Sometimes I value my safety a little more than I value honesty. Sometimes I value companionship a little more than I value being honest with someone in a destructive behavior.

Perhaps the difference between the just and the unjust, the heavenly and the diabolical is really, when it comes down to it, just a small step in one direction.

If it’s a little inconvenient for you to tell a small truth, will you lie instead? Is it a little inconvenient to be as concerned for someone else’s property as much as your own?

All the little things add up. The little things when there is no reward and no eyes watching are really the ones that matter. These tell us who we are more than anything.

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I disagree with most people about most things.

I used to feel bad about that, that I wasn’t part of the whole, but I don’t mind anymore. It’s definitely okay to not believe what most people believe or to behave like most people behave.

Personally, I think it’s commendable to go against the grain, but that might just be me. We need outliers if we are to grow as a society. We need options to say, ‘We will not be this” or, ‘We will be this,’ or, ‘We will strive for this.’ We must have people who are different than everyone to give us options, to show us extremes. We must have souls who are not influenced by the opinions of the majority. We must have pillars, unmovable, unpersuadable.

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I’m more interesting than you.

At least to me. I think about interesting things ALL THE TIME.

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Things I never say to anyone.

I think that maybe I’m broken, or that there is no possibility of being in working order. The last few years perhaps I’ve acted like I know what’s going on, but I don’t have a clue.

I only started acting like I do know what’s going on because I was bored and it seemed interesting to try something new out.

The only things that consistently show up in my life are pain and boredom. Sometimes I wonder how much of what I ‘believe’ in I’ve just made up to entertain myself, to keep myself busy, to keep my mind busy.

If I were to tell the honest truth about what I think I should be doing right now, the idea of sitting and doing nothing for days and days seems almost as valid a choice to me as anything else.

It seems like everything in the world is turned into a game of some sort. You must choose wisely how to interact with people in order to receive the rewards you want from them, whether the reward is something material or perhaps just their brief attention or approval.

When I play video games, sometimes it’s hard for me to see why the video game isn’t as real as ‘life’. There are people in games who you treat certain ways to get what you want from them. People in real life generally aren’t a lot more complex. You have to play ‘the game’ to get ahead. You have to play ‘the game’ to even survive.

A long time ago I was given the impression that being depressed is not an option. Being depressed is something to run away from. BullSHIT. This game is depressing. If you’re all playing it, you better fucking believe I’m gonna be depressed. Happiness is not a given. Joy is not a given. Don’t give me that shit. DON’T FUCKING PRETEND.

I will never smile if I think you’re lying to me. I won’t play the game you’ve resigned yourself to. I won’t grovel for your calculated approval.

You must earn my love. Don’t play the game.

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Ego and Writing.

The problem with life is extremes. That’s an extreme statement. Maybe I shouldn’t say it.

I can’t tell you I don’t have an ego when it comes to writing, because that would be a lie. I don’t know what ego means when I write it like that. Let me define it the way I’m using it. I can’t tell you that I don’t want people to love what I write for my own sake and nothing else. There’s a part of me that wants that and that’s what I call my ego. I guess something for my own sake could be good in certain circumstances, so I guess what I really mean by ego is wanting people to love what I write for my own sake to a greater degree than I see as serving a use.

I guess that’s complicated. There’s a part of me that wants you to love me more than you should love me in terms of my usefulness to society. I’m not ashamed that I want this, but I don’t think it’s good of me. It would be worse if I tried to hide it from you. I think I probably will always have an ego and I don’t think it would ever fit to have me pretend that I don’t. I will never be perfect.

There’s so much pressure to be perfect, or at least to appear perfect. Seeing as the truth is that we can never be perfect, why would we think that acting like you’re perfect is a good thing?

I don’t believe it makes anyone else feel better if you act like you’re perfect, so why lie? It’s a golden illusion that we should grow out of. Some things just aren’t true and never will be.

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