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you are not a person
to maharaji. he doesnt care about you for
yourself.he doesnt value any individual for
themselves. given the choice to spend the rest of
his life on a desert island with you, he would
think little of your company.
that aint love. that aint even like. in his case,
its not even tolerance of the ordinary person.
what you call love is not love. real love is
person to person, committed, knowing. he isnt
committed to you. and you think you're commited to
him, but the him you are committed to is your
imagination of him. you don't know him as he really
is, and he has gone to great lengths to be sure
that you never do.
I once said what you say. i held on. i chased
after him. i beleived. and he firmly and angrily
pushed me farther and farther away, with the
annoyance you display toward getting peanut butter
off your hands, making it clear that he couldnt
care less what i was, who i was, what i did, felt,
thought, needed, knew.
it took me a long time to finally get it, but get
it, I did.
notice how the real issue of this thread got
hijacked into a pissing match between you and
jethro, and conveniently went completely off of
maharaji? notice how that handily pushed an equal
number of important posts into the inactive bin and
off the readable forum?
i noticed.
so, just to make sure this duscussion stays on the
issue of maharaji and not on your pissing contest,
i inserted this poignant commentary before the
whole rest of the waste of space.
your love for him is no better than the
teenager's obsession with cute rock stars. it's
self hype. it isnt a real relationship. its all
fantasy and escape.
they will never personally be known to their
idols, never have a relationship with them, but
will make them millionaires. in the process of
clamoring. and imagining they have a relationship
with them.
when you realize what the idol really thinks of
being stuck with one of their fans, hopefully, it
smacks you in the face. and you grow up,
overnight.
oh-- and that knowledge he showed you? he doesnt
use it, himself,. his daddy left a letter saying he
wanted the family product to be sold by his sons
after he died, so prem did what the old man asked
him to.
aside from flying, its the only thing he knows
how to do, to make a living., he didnt finish high
school, after all, and has no career training, so
any other line of work is unthinkable. and its
pretty easy, just opening your mouth for an hour
and blathering whatever pops into your head and
collecting half a mil for it, and making a dvd
aping the four things your old man showed you when
you were 6 and witholding it from people until they
swear their lives to you. piece of cake.
'that ain working! that's the way ya do it!
money for nothing and your chicks for free'
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