There’s no error.
In someway, shape or form, every being in existence (including the sidewalk you walk on) is having their consent violated.
If they deny this, they choose sociopathy (blocking the feeling and innate wisdom to keep themselves ‘sane’) over being a full and honest being.
Let me put it this way to you Wendy…
Do you really think you’re helping anyone by being brainwashed into saying you’re doing well?
Are you even trying?
Stay off the fucking sidewalk, Wendy. You heard the man.
The sidewalk doesn’t hurt when you walk on it.
What it will do is not LET you walk on it.
Same with chairs and benches …
Have you ever tried to sit down and it just doesn’t feel right so then you ‘decide’ to stand?
That’s because the seat doesn’t like you.
The amount of wisdom lost over tens of thousands of years is staggering.
That reminds of relationships between phenomenon and experience.True one can not derive one in terms of the other, yet there appears to be a strange( quantum) fellowship.
Appearance rends to evolve as well as most every or any ‘thing’ else.
Digs think more phenomena like, not relay cogitating on past experienced events, god takes care of that by befriending subordinately one to the other.
So what? You say.
What is that important non derivitive effect that such will anti-derive one from the other?
More in terms of deriving by conjugating downwards, as the rage with behaviorism has seemingly attained ‘objective’ status.
What?
Well think about the most deconjugated conceptual in between state of cellular and microbiological entity: the most primitive organizational, pre-organism(a vius) where sheer numbers of them, seeking the objectively formed higher consciousness, may be defeated.
The projected spiritually advance of a singular entity, may be overcome by swarms of materially bonded pre-organisms.
Maybe the friendship of the DOG whose barn may traverse both realms, may finally absolve that increasing doubt, that the margin of error ascribed to GOD. may not recur indefatigable repeated sacrafices to prove a indeterminate point within the vast confines of the COSMOS
MIJOT til you drop - 
And equally important, is exhibiting a sense of humour… as an indicator of happy contentment.
If the world can’t be so, then at least our nearest and dearest and peers can be so, along with us… as it’s lonely at the top. 
in that manner of understanding, even the ‘knowledge’ as limited as they afe, could be improved upon and get the message of the pperils of devolution, since ultimately thief host will be lost to them.
And reversely, I do understand that, and how it’s possible to denote them as well to their primal, logical basis.
I think contentment is only the beginning - the temptation to start looking and planning for it sneaks in (I guess that is where that chart would come it). 
I have noticed something -
When I get to talk about contentious issues with friends - I noticed that sometimes they look at me as if to be thinking - “maybe I should be doing what that bloke is doing instead of bitching” - 
It best starts at home (why waste time waiting on the world). 
"Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy.
I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ". Anaïs Nin
“Who is more the fool? The fool or the fool who follows the fool?” Obi Wan Kenobi(I believe. I’ve been dying to use that quote even if it’s not exactly apropos.)
I’m not convinced that there is a negative for my positive, where we balance one another.
That horny huh? I feel ya. My gf was supposed to be shipped in from overseas last year, but Covid scamdemic kind of ruined that… maybe next year.
“Chance”
We of the foreskin tribe don’t believe in chance.
It’s all been determined by a higher force, a superior will.
Fate.
The infidels believe love is how nature overcame the already evolved fight/flight mechanism, making heterosexual reproduction and then motherhood and then social behaviours possible.
An intoxication that leads to bonding, making the sacrifices and the risks and the costs more easily tolerable.
Love was romanticized, defined out of existence, projected in the beyond space/time, mystified, made divine, so as to make it universal, permitting the emergence of multi-racial, multi-ethnic, populations to become stable.
So …it’s not magic?! Fuck…
It can be experienced as magical…
I know, I know …but does Shieldmaiden know?? 
She worships love as divine…as god.
I, a devil…evil. “Dangerous”.
To who?
I’ve never harmed a soul.
Dangerous to her ideology…her beliefs…her lifelong convictions which she thought were certain, and final.
What is the opposite of love in a pea brain’s worldview?
Hate.
Binaries.
Good…her and her love clan…and evil, me who demystifies terms like morality, and love and free-will.
Love can be just as destructives as hate.
Hate can be just as constructive as love.
Both are automated mechanisms reacting to stimuli - evolved to make reactions more efficient and therefore more effective.
Both find their source in fear…anxiety.
Mother of all emotions.
Hate pushes away what is feared, what causes anxiety.
Love numbs fear, intoxicates the mind so as to pull towards it what was feared, the source of anxiety.
It evolved to deal with the anxiety of the physical intervention necessitated by copulation - and of proximity, tolerance of another being within your comfort zone.
Love made heterosexuality and cooperative groups possible…it also bonded mother to offspring so as to make her capable and willing to accept the risks and sacrifices entailed in gestating and weening.
Like all intoxications it feels good, producing mirth, comfort, relaxation etc.
Like all intoxications it may produce a hang-over when sobriety returns.
The bonding with one’s own blood never ends because you see yourself in the other. The other is an extension of yourself.
Great song.
Learning to love unconditionally, be vulnerable, is difficult with the mother of all emotions lying in wait below the surface.
_
“They do not love that do not show their love” - from, The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Shakespeare