Emotional Thinking Blinds – Flies On The Windscreen


You know how much I like to drive my car. It is an impressive vehicle. It is fast, attractive and demonstrates to the world beyond just how superior I am to other road users as I surge past them with just the slightest pressure on the accelerator. Cocooned inside this metal shell I race from place to place in order to carry out my engagements. Gathering fuel in this place, ensuring a devaluation is doled out in that place and dropping by at the other place to open the passenger door and tempt you to clamber back in to the passenger seat with a winning smile and a reassurance that last time was a mistake. You remember last time don’t you? When I took you along the motorway and then dumped you there leaving you with a long walk back. How could you forget? You still have the blisters and the aching legs haven’t you? Well, climb in and allow me to ease your suffering. I promise I won’t leave you in the middle of the motorway again, distraught and facing a lengthy walk home. No, I am sorry about that. Why did I do that? Let’s not get into all that now, there is plenty to see andI would rather show you how good I can be than go over that old ground again. That was in the past and we both need to move on if we are going to make this work. I pat the leather seat invitingly as you hover by the passenger door. You look at it with a mixture of longing and wariness.

“You need to hurry up if you are getting in, there are plenty of others who want to sit there,”I observe as I look over your shoulder. You spin around and see several people, mainly women but some men, advancing towards you along the motorway. They are running and as they get nearer you can hear them shouting as they plead for me to wait. You stand for an instant and watch the nearing mob, limbs flailing as they hurtle towards us.

“They will soon be on you and they will trample you into the ground in order to get into here,” I warn.

This jolts you into action and you get into the car, slamming the door closed and pressing the lock button.

“Go, go!” you urge as the admiring mob gets ever closer. I smile to myself as I press down on the accelerator and we drive away leaving the disappointed mob stood in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes as they watch you and I race away across the empty motorway ahead of us. I turn and look at you and already I can see that you feel comfortable as you sink into the luxury of the passenger seat. You have slipped your worn down and scuffed shoes off allowing your sore and blistered feet to sink into the thick carpet which lines your side of the car. I hear you give a little sigh of contentment as your tilt your head back.

“Always feels good to get back in this car doesn’t it?” I ask.

You nod and reach out a hand towards me touching me on the arm.

“It is a beautiful day,” I remark as I nod my head towards the windscreen. You give a little gasp as the clouded horizon which existed only a few moments ago has somehow vanished and you are staring at the bright blue sky and a golden, blazing sun.

“Where did that come from?” you wonder aloud and look at me. I say nothing but let you reach your own conclusion about how everything is always better when you are with me.

“Are you thirsty? You look parched,” I comment and motion to a drink held in one of the cup holders next to you. You pick it up and suck the cool, delicious liquid through the straw as I continue to hurtle along the motorway. You gaze out of the window as the embankments which normally grip the motorway and hide your view of what is beyond have now disappeared. Instead, you are afforded a breathtaking view of the undulating countryside which rolls away to the snow-topped hills in the distance. The land is kissed by golden light, full trees dotted here and there, the whole scene idyllic and just as you always imagine the countryside to look. It is as if I can read your thoughts and show you what you want to see. You have always thought that. I appear to have some sixth sense which enables me to create the very scene or environment that delights you the most and accords with what you want to see. You missed that when you were trudging along that bleak and grey motorway beneath the leaden firmament.

You continue to gaze through the windscreen, marvelling at the scenery outside, the beauty and the serenity breath taking, along with the absence of anyone else. Your eyes are wide looking at the vast scene that unfolds beyond the windscreen as you enjoy the comfort of my ride. So transfixed are you by what you see outside of my car you fail to notice the dots and specks which are forming on the windscreen. You are oblivious to the flies that smash against the glass, their insignificant lives obliterated in an instant by my driving forward at such speed and with such intent. The insects never saw me coming, flying along, blissfully unaware of what was hurtling towards them and would wipe them out in an instant. More and more bloody smears coat the windscreen and you still do not see them as they begin to mount up. I keep glancing at you but you are so transfixed by the beauty outside that the increasing death toll under your nose is going unnoticed. I do not activate the windscreen wash nor the wipers preferring to keep this carnage in full view, yet this obvious massacre is not countenanced by you. I allow myself a little smile as my test confirms what I knew would be the case. Just like a fly on the windscreen you have little idea just how close you are to such danger, how your existence hangs in the balance and how it is all down to me.

25 thoughts on “Emotional Thinking Blinds – Flies On The Windscreen

  1. Kim e says:

    So yesterday was a rough one. My ET and LT were in a battle and neither was winning. I felt so alone. And the worst part was I knew all of you were out there and HG was talking in his bulletins but I needed to talk to an actual person. To feel so not invisible. Such a hopeless feeling.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      That is what the audio consultations are for, Kim E.

      1. Kim e says:

        That is what the audio consultations are for, Kim E.

        Audio consults dont do a person any good at 330 in the afternoon when it is not planned. Just very lonely to not be able to just pick up the phone and call someone to talk you down off the ceiling

        1. HG Tudor says:

          I have undertaken many consultations at short notice. It is not always possible, but sometimes it is. It is an option.

          1. Kim e says:

            I have undertaken many consultations at short notice. It is not always possible, but sometimes it is. It is an option.

            Thank you for the thought. If I did a consult everytime I just needed to talk, I would need to be a maid in your country house cuz I would be broke and homeless.

            Just an empath wanting to cry with other empaths. But you and and your ultraness do have a place in my heart.

          2. HG Tudor says:


            I wanted to convey the point that whist I do not have the accessibility of a 24 hour Helpline, I can, in certain instances, facilitate a consultation at short notice. Thus, people know that is a potential option.

  2. Renarde says:

    Hey NS, I need your help.

    I had a very strange meeting today with a Consultant Psychiatrist. I was assured that he is ‘The Bizz’. That in itself worried me but I need to get help with the trauma that I have endured. I needed to give this a whirl.

    In the consult which lasted 1 1/2 hours, I perceive I was led through a merry dance.

    Rather than discussing my trauma he almost immediately got me onto my own field. Physics. This was NOT what I expected. The last thing I wanted to do is to talk about this. But he had me engaged.

    I noticed clear signs that if I interrupted him, just because I wanted to correct an issue, he would say, ‘let me speak’. So I fell silent.

    What than transpired was him ‘attempting’ to tell me my own field. I respected him because of his academic qualifications but he was rolling all over mine. Indeed, at one point he attempted to assert that quarks made up electrons. They do not. This led onto what I would imagine are one of his pet theories. That consciousness exists between particles in space itself.

    Well I was floored. How does one react to that? Surely, we were meant to be discussing my own mental health rather than these esoteric theories which have never been proven? He then extrapolated his own concept of ‘quantum entanglement’. Absolute not a clue. He started to talk about particles. I then explained electrons as being either spin up or spin down and what PEP really means (google it, if you can be bothered), He hadn’t a clue and therefore left that train of conversation.

    He tried to provoke me, several times in fact with his questioning. Even at one stage, ‘Get angry at me’. I told him very clearly no, I am not angry. Nowhere even that level. I am frustrated. Denying what I am experiencing, saying and that I am making excuses for my behaviours. This was not done in an overt way, it was done in a challenging way which I, in the moment rose too. But not too anger.

    Look Sunny Jim. You lose your children to a psychopath and see what it feels like. You frankly want to die.

    So this men who then attempted to get me to write about his pet theories of quantum entanglement was really trying to heal me by giving me a distraction? Or was he serving another purpose? Because what he then asked me to do was to give me writing pointers and then to distribute that writing around the whole mental health team. This is what he said. That I distribute original writing amongst the team.

    As it happens, I did write something tonight of that I am proud of. But I don’t think it is for the prurient nature of some people in there who I already do not trust.

    At one point I said, I am picking up these men. He asked me why?

    ‘Is it because I am an Empath? Intelligent then?’, I said.

    He rolled his eyes up and I knew what at once he meant. It was because of how I looked. My presence.

    This is disgusting and it is abhorrent. I have no idea how to proceed.

    So NS please help. I’ve tried to access help today. It clearly dd not work. I wanted clear guidance on what is on offer. All I got was a repeat prescription of anti-depressants I already have. Plus being asked to write to others I do not know under my own identity and not that of Ren.

    Please help.I feel utterly violated tonight.

    1. WhoCares says:



    2. Violetta says:


      Are you paying him? Then the 50-minute hour should be spent talking about your problems.

      I haven’t had the privilege of a consult with HG, but I should think that people primarily focus on coping with the the custody battle or the restraining order, and only discuss the virtues of Man City/Creed Viking and the vices of Leeds United/Paco Rabanne 1 Million if there is time left over and they want to relieve some of the tension.

      And even if you aren’t paying him, what if the sonofabitch is trying to steal your ideas?

      1. Renarde says:


        No. NHS.

        I agree. It was far too heavy handed to go into that approach with me.

        He was so arrogant. At one point he asked me how ‘action at a distance works’. I told him fields. Potential difference. I didn’t even get round to delineating the two fields classically that did this.

        He told me I was wrong. I. Was. Wrong.

        How arrogant of him. He hasn’t a CLUE about my field and all he was doing was grandstanding.

        If I could respect his quals on entering that office why could he not respect mine?

        That’s not therapeutic. He could have asked me any question under the sun and I wouldve replied, if I could.

        I certainly didnt march in there expecting to know more about psychiatry than him.

        He liked the sound of his own voice.

      2. Renarde says:


        I hit return too soon.

        Maybe HG can relate to this episode.

        Him asking for my writing.

        The very hardest things I’ve ever done is writing then asking for opinion.

        I guess I’ve done it four times. On three of those times it has been well approved.

        No way. No way am I going to write for people in a setting that I dont even know. Who are these people? Could they potentially hurt me because I’m giving them intimate information?

        I think the way he DELIBERATELY led the conversation into why I pick up men who have hurt me was telling.

        In a therapeutic situation to intimate I am attractive, really fucked me up. Not only because of the obvious but subliminally saying I have no worth outside of my appearance.

        Fuck that! And thank you for reminding me I have fucking fantastic ideas that are mine.

        IP. Intellectual Property.

        Diagnosis. UMC

  3. Lorelei says:

    Is this impressive car you write about a truck with a confederate flag HG? Do you stand upon it —lined up to say, another such truck, and plant one foot firmly on the hood of one. The other foot attached to a leg with thigh high cowboy boot resting on the other hood? Do you stand back, pose..? If so would this be a good Facebook profile picture?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      No, only someone Totally Hip To The Groove would do that.

      1. Lorelei says:

        I dream of such a man.

        1. HG Tudor says:

          Ha ha

          1. Lorelei says:

            I’m serious. NASCAR races and Miller Light!

        2. Violetta says:

          You know better.

          Well, I wish I had some shoes on my two bare feet
          And it’s gettin’ kinda cold in these painted on cut-off jeans
          I hate the way this bikini top chafes
          Do I really have to wear it all day? (Yeah, baby)

          I hear you over there on your tailgate whistlin’ [whistle]
          Sayin’, “Hey girl.” (“Hey, girl.”)
          But you know I ain’t listenin’
          ‘Cause I got a name
          And to you it ain’t “pretty little thing”, “hottie” or “baby”
          Yeah it’s drivin’ me red-red-red-red-red-red-redneck crazy

          Bein’ the girl in a country song
          How in the world did it go so wrong?
          Like all we’re good for
          Is looking good for you and your friends on the weekend
          Nothing more
          We used to get a little respect
          Now we’re lucky if we even get
          To climb up in your truck, keep our mouth shut and ride along
          And be the girl in a country song

          Well, shakin’ my moneymaker ain’t ever made me a dime
          And there ain’t no sugar for you in this shaker of mine
          Tell me one more time, “you gotta get you some of that”
          Sure I’ll slide on over, but you’re gonna get slapped (Hah!)
          These days it ain’t easy being that

          Girl in a country song
          How in the world did it go so wrong?
          Like all we’re good for
          Is looking good for you and your friends on the weekend
          Nothing more
          We used to get a little respect
          Now we’re lucky if we even get
          To climb up in your truck, keep our mouth shut and ride along
          And be the girl in a country song (Yeah, yeah, yeah, baby)

          Aww no, Conway and George Strait
          Never did it this way
          Back in the old days
          Aww y’all, we ain’t a cliché
          That ain’t no way
          To treat a lady…

          … like a girl in a country song
          How in the world did it go so wrong?
          Like all we’re good for
          Is looking good for you and your friends on the weekend
          Nothing more
          We used to get a little respect
          Now we’re lucky if we even get
          To climb up in your truck, keep our mouth shut and ride along
          Down some old dirt road we don’t even wanna be on
          And be the girl in a country song

          (“Yeah, baby, I ain’t your tan legged Juliet. Can I put on some real clothes now? “)

          Aww, no

        3. FoolMe1Time says:

          It probably won’t be to long before you see your ex doing this very same thing Lorelei. No I’m wrong! He’s gonna pull up on a Harley dressed in leather pants and vest, with his nipple ring exposed for all to gaze upon! Lol

          1. Lorelei says:

            He’s so embarrassing Foolme..I’m never dating again.

          2. FoolMe1Time says:

            Yes you will date again Lorelei! Now you understand why I put a March 2020 date on doing just that. You need to find you and be comfortable and love that person before you start dating. Just think of the trauma ( yes it is trauma ) most of us have gone through, even HG. We had something very precious and dear taken away from us. We don’t know who we are because we had to become someone or something else just to survive! We do it still to this day! We become who we have to be in order to make things work for us. When you think about it we are like the narcissist in that aspect, wearing the different masks and with us trying to please everyone. How many of us on here are like we are in real life? Probably if we were being honest with ourselves, not to many of us. Give yourself the time to find and enjoy you. 💞

          3. Lorelei says:

            Foolme—I only attract and am attracted to unhealthy people. I think it’s also evident that my flame from a few weeks ago having used the wrong hand towels pissed me off enough to realize that I’m don’t want anyone even using my towels. He totally screwed up my decorative folded teal towels and the color was drained from them. Such an annoyance is not normal. Then he wanted to nap and I almost vomited. I think if anything—the date needs moved up to another life time. I told that dumb ass which towel to use and be still grabbed the wrong one. I also don’t like my comforter getting all wrinkled up. It’s not worth the sex.

          4. FoolMe1Time says:

            You are such an ass! Hahaha!
            Sometimes that speechless moment just isn’t worth it! It’s to bad we can’t figure that out until it’s to late!!
            Take the comforter off the bed before you jump in it!! 😘💞

          5. Lorelei says:

            Haha—I will say, I was speechless. Speechless. That is dangerous! It was akin to a someone skilled at all track and field events. So, generally someone may be just a fast runner but just average maybe at some of the other activities. This guy could do hurdles, dash, relay.. Just capitalize trouble. Never again.

          6. FoolMe1Time says:

            Hahaha Lorelei! He could everything except use the correct towel! Haha 💞

          7. Lorelei says:

            Foolme—unspeakable. Therein lies the problem.

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous article

Angel Assistance Fund