|My cyber-friend Laleela says like many, many others: ''You only look at others, but never at yourself!''
There is - like in everything, what people say - there is some truth in it. Everyone says his truth about his own burdened being. One truth above: everyone believes truly, to tell the truth to the other!
From another viewpoint the other mirrors your life exactly the way, you deserve right now! From this point the fight starts. You don't see yourself mirrored correct? You don't like the picture, you get from your mirror?
True, but why you don't like your picture in the mirror? Could it be, you don't like yourself? Could it be, you feel inferior? Could this nasty mirror reduce you to an ugly, little mediocre man?
For simple questions people have simple answers: you cut this connection, that brings more harm than joy!
So you leave your mirror alone, this bad made mirror! Smash this nasty mirror, that reflects you in such a way, you don't like! Aren't millions mirrors around, who show you in a better light?
Or another clear choice: leave me alone! What a relief! Now your mind starts mirroring yourself:
|Hey, what's up with me? What to do now here all alone? I guess, I feel lonely, no good. Feelings are no good anymore. Ah, give me a beer from the fridge. Open the bottle. First sip, aaaahhhh. relief again. Ah, another desire now: hunger! Come on fridge, give me your treasures: food. Mmmmmhhhh! Delicious! Beer, food, food, beer, Gulp! Stomach - filled up. Gulp again. Blood energy occupied five, ten minutes, to digest. Fart, phhh, Gulp.
Blood flows back to brain again. Mind in foggy beer clouds remembers, what did she say? She don't like fat men? F*ck her! Gulp, .... silence.
|Mind knocks on stomach: some more beer? Shit, fridge is empty! Stomach feels disappointed, mind even more! What, no beer, no woman? Fat little lonely male? F*ck it!
Turn the video on! Ahh, the video turns me on: pussies in multicolor, bodies red-rose shining flesh, marvellous animals to make God's dream come true! Ahhh, I feel God again - now! Blood in my prick, celestial erection, ahhh there she comes. Me tooo! Marvellous! Sticking hands. Doesn't matter, one hands washes another one. Happy again: ahhh, how I enjoy my clean space of my highly evolved spitshituality!
|Not yet tired, 2.00 a.m. Silence in the night. The clock in the room sounds: ''Tack. Tick. Tack. Tick.'' With which next movie my mind will show up?
Ah not again this shit sorrow film: all alone, a lonely thick, little fat, sad man! Empty balls, beer fog in brain, food on the way from stomach entrance to exit way.
Ahhh, there's some old song in my mind right now: ''I can get no satisfaction, I can get no girl in action, but I try, but I try, but I try.....''
|Shit, this song! I don't want to listen to this song! Maybe some juice in my mailbox? Some other mind feels alone? Longing for mine?
Ah, yes, she wrote a letter to me! With her beautiful mind in her not more so beautiful body - doesn't matter, 'cos it's a female body! A female! Slick, kinky fantasies - saliva runs to the mouth. Mind moves quicker. Ah, what she writes? She doesn't want me! Me? Not wanted? Not possible! Me, me the king of the whole, wide world? Shhhh, all these songs in my mind!
|Pressure grows. Each day loads more on my life. The joy of my body fades away. My Mind suffers from an overload. There is no way to stop this. Great Guru's marvellous messages release my stress symptoms less than paradies pussy on video with some bottles of beer!
One problem left: how to sleep in my lonely nights? How to sleep, when the bottles are empty, the stomach can't stuff anything anymore, the video is boring and her letters in the mailbox announce:
''you'll maybe welcome again, when you have bought another car, have find a better job and have changed your body to a thin, sincere seeker. Yeah, when you look and be more like Bhagwan, like James Dean, Chris de Burg or best like my adored movie start Nicolson for example, mhhh, than - maybe - you're welcome. Than, maybe, my body gets ready to receive yours. And your child. Maybe''
|Now, your mind mirrors asks: ''isn't this all too much? My car is a wreck, finished. My job is lost, finished. My only room is in a mess. Toilet, few steps downstairs. My fridge is empty, only my mind full, full of sorrows. All these expectations on my little life! Are these people crazy? Or am I?''
''Stop mind'', orders a warning voice deep inside: ''that's to much, stop this! ' Never mind, ever, doubt your own integrity, ok? You are my mind, my greatest possession! Except all your dysfunctional sorrows and thoughts! Thoughts? Facts! Facts! Facts! My life is so sad! No driver licence, no licence for love. Only boring paradise pussies on my video and an empty fridge.
Guess, another day wasted in life! Guess, go to sleep now, to have better dreams than this sad sobriety! F*ck it! Now, give me a good bible quote tonight, to make my dreams come true! Ahhh, this is it: the thought of the day: ''At the end of the day, the night begins.'' Oh, thanks my Master, one point is fixed in my flowing life: your untouchable truth!
Mind signalises: '''haeh, haeh, haeh... untouchable is the last social class of your Master's paradise, India, haeh, heah, haeh!''' F*ck you, my mind, give me a break. Observer starts snoring soon.
|New day starts, ah, what was the subject again? ''You only look at others, but never at yourself!''
Is this true?
Don't I write about myself all the time? But who wants to listen? Who is running away from n0by's truth? You or me? How many cowards close their beliefs, dreams and imagination behind the walls of their closed, censored gatherings?
My truth doesn't change, complains my best friend Kabir-Michael from Munich. He would like to help my unchanging state with devices like this: ''close your n0by group, delete all pages of your domain http://n0by.de, wait for something new. Start something new and fresh! ''
|But how can I delete these worldwide precious connections, mirroring each other? Shall the ones, who leave after a while, not have a chance to look in their mirror again? When the time is ripe?
My female friend, Mimamai, is the fundament of all my stability, to hold this group open, no matter what will be. Without her, I'm lost in the jungle of my mind fights!
Without her, my body refuses to eat and to sleep. My nerves get so tense, that my body starts trembling, when I go out, to buy some food.
In these days it's nearly impossible to play the friendly host of all our cherished guests worldwide. In those days even my friend Michael-Kabir doubts my honesty from the deepest cave of my loving heart! But at least with his Sumo-Statue Michael-Kabir recovers after a few days from my provocations.
I need to recover in the arms of my woman Mimamai. ''A man needs a maid!'' That's one of the never changing truth in my life.
|Now it's the seventh time here in the beautiful world cultural heritage town Bamberg, that Mimamai has to leave our Munich home for five weeks. She works as her own Boss with a student girl to sell her self made candles.
Coming to her after my job on Friday, six days without her, trembling inside and lost, in just a split of a second she changes my energy. She smiles at me, my eyes dive into her, she laughs and that's her truth: she barks !
Real true, she enjoys to play a lovely, little barking dog. ''No, no,'' I tell her, ''speak in human language, you are my Queen!'' ''Waff, waff'' she answers. She is happy.
When my woman is happy, my heart is at home. Then even my friend Kabir can shout at me with saliva spitting all around, I really don't care much.
But when my Mimamai looses her sparkling fun in her eyes, that makes me feel, like storm coming up! When she would be angry with me, my world, my security, my smiling shelter would collapse in a second. My feet would loose ground. I would fall apart. A scary feeling like the quickest downfall into burning hell!
That's her power of my little, lovely puppy playing woman Mimamai ! I have to admit, I'm helpless, lost without her.
How she gets this power? I don't know, I really don't know. She started like all six, seven women before in my bed. We played my usual biological program: we rolled around from above, down under, on four feet doggie style, on the belly like a serpent, like fish in the water, like Master and Slave - this way we met as woman and man.
Now my part follows her wisdom, like her body has fulfilled all my desires, when there has been these desires - years before.
When I came yesterday, Friday, she took her first bath after six days working hard on the market. She builds up her hut with friends, decorates everything with her tender beautiful feelings, fills up all her precious little, lovely toys, incense and candles. So her selling-season starts: lights & toys. That's the motto of her life, and I feel like her little boy in wonderland.
I know her body naked from every look and corner. I smell her soap, her creams and her farts as well. I listen to her breath and holding her, I feel the beats of her heart inside.
I remember our last disagreement this year on our holiday journey in Norway. Two, three hours - not longer.
We live in an oasis of peace, from where I go out to entertain myself: I play some fights with people all over the world. In my fantasy world I love, to heat up these pretended emotions. Astonished I recognize, how fantasy forms friends into enemies. To write more exact: ''political friends'' changes into ''political enemies''.
This year we enjoyed in our n0by-group, our ''cyber-church'', a ''cyber-marriage'! Swami Veet Tom and Ma Devapriya, aka Laleela, fired up an emotional firework of highest quality.
This Romeo and Julia romance continued in ''Mama's place''. Laleela split up the flow of energy for her political purpose, to find flattering followers for her beliefs and self-esteem
Even my most honest and true Swami Secretary Veet Tom followed her, instead to serve his growth here with us! The result: Veet Tom destroys his beautiful big Benz Daimler into an alcohol accident on the way to his cyber-woman Laleela. Without car the divorce is now inevitable, 'cos the life distance of both are two hours drive.
|''Veet'' means beyond, and Tom, Thomas is my family name, means: the doubtful one. Bhagwan baptize this man
''Veet Thomas'' - beyond doubt. The same I write here: don't doubt your love,, don't doubt mine.
Like Ma Veet Mimamai stands behind me. As matter of fact: she stands in front of me, and I have to follow her mood.
Only hope left, that Veet Thomas changes from mad moods to normality. So I could follow more easy. My experience warns me: it's hard without a woman.
It's my pleasure, to follow Mimamai's mood, 'cos she brings my mad mood back down to earth towards normality. Maybe that's the way, women guide us? Maybe that's her power of love?