Alright, let’s see if I’ve got any goddamned words in me today.

I have been really thinking about turning myself into the most badass alpha left wing pundit ever. The ultimate balls-out, no-apologies, in your face liberal the world has ever seen. The kind of person to send all those right wing pussies running.

I am so sick of all their candy-assed bullshit. Left wing wimpiness has let these subhuman cretins grow and flourish like goddamned roachs and it’s high time someone put the boots to them and remind them what fear of God really looks like.

And unlike most American liberals, I am not afraid to be openly aggressive. I don’t give a fuck what other liberals think of me. In fact, I am pretty sure that if I could pull this off and actually shove my way into the pundit-sphere, a lot of liberals will push back at me because they are scared of my aggressive stance and don’t want to be associated with someone so, well, “not nice”.

Suits me fine. I will take on the whole world if I have to. There will be enough liberals with balls/ovaries who will hear my rallying cry and think “Finally!” and rush to my side to be my New Liberalism Army.

One of my main messages will be that you don’t have to choose between evil and cowardice any more. There is a third option.

Left wing politics meets right wing tactics. I intend to copy every single one of their dirty tricks and tactics, and with perfect fidelity, down to the very last decimal point.

That way I can feed their own evil back to them and make them fucking choke on it. Go ahead, object to my methods. Take on that level of cognitive dissonance as your feeble fucking minds try to maintain faith in people who do exactly what I do while also condemning it in me.

In fact, a major part of my strategy will be to maximize cognitive dissonance in my opponents. I want them to suffer as much as possible for their complicity and moral corruption. I want to drive them to the edge of madness for their crimes.

In essence, I want to make it as painful as possible for them to keep being evil.

And the aggressive stance is part of that. They are used to following the aggressive males on the right. It fits with their reptile brain outlook of the world. Me follow strong man so me feel safe!

But i will be sending out those exact same signals. So now what?

Guess they will just have to learn to THINK FOR THEMSELVES.

I will further confuse them by calling public liberals on their wimpiness and their implicit complicity in the degradation of the body public via their total failure to provide credible opposition to the right wing, letting them grow out of control and put the entire world at risk with Trump just because they are lily livered cowards without sufficient courage of their convictions to be willing to go toe to toe with these fucking degenerates.

So then they will see a fat angry aggressive man attacking liberals (the bad ones), and they are very used to doing what those people say and believing what those people tell them to believe, so how are they suppose to resist following me?

Again, by actually THINKING.

And when they think, we win, even if all they are doing is coming up with counter-arguments. There is a reason education makes people more liberal, and it has nothing to do with some kind of indoctrination regime.

It’s because education teaches people to think.

The fact that this inevitaby leads to them becoming more liberal is, I think, the simplest and most elegant argument for the superiority of liberalism there is.

Because the smarter people get, the more liberal they become.

QED, mother fuckers.

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I’ve been pondering a mystical-ish truth lately.

Let’s see if I can get it across. Basically, I have been wondering how it can be that so much of the art that really reaches people deep inside comes from outcast weirdos like me who seem to all the world to barely be connected to the human race at all.

How is this possible? What is this interior realm we can go to where, paradoxically, the further into it we go, the more our art connects with the hearts of millions?

It’s almost like by being such outsider loners, we can go deeper into the zeitgeist than the rest of our fellow homo sapiens. By going away from them consciously, we get closer to them spiritually.

It’s pretty amazing, when you think about it.

I suppose there’s also the issue of concentration, though. Because so many of us have trouble expressing ourselves in the usual way, we end up saving up and concentrating our emotions into a form we can express through our art.

I know that’s the case with me. I am socially isolated by my mental illness. I have received almost none of the socialization that might have allowed me to connect with my fellow human beings in a more “normal” way. An argument could be made that I barely have enough contacts with the human race to keep my remaining marbles.

Writing is the only way I have to express my emotions, and my progression as a writer has been entirely based around being able to get more and more emotion into every word I write.

If I wasn’t this socially damaged, I wouldn’t have the impetus to write so much and I probably would not be writing the words you are reading right now.

Yes, these very words!

And as I write, I can feel myself drawing upon something that is not entirely my own. Something that came from me and all my thoughts and observations and intuitions about the human condition and the world it lives in, but that also encompasses a reality outside my individual self.

And in that obscure and lonely place, I connect with my fellow humans.

And I can’t really explain that.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

You know, I know Low Blood Sugar Events are very bad. They are the sort of thing that should not happen as they technically put my life in peril and if I ever had one and there was no way to get to food in time, I might just shuffle off this mortal fucking coil.

That said, I have to admit they can be rather exciting.

Kind of like a suspense and/or intrigue movie, where the hero has to get to the bomb in time to defuse it before it blows up Big Ben or whatever.

In my mind, those movies are inherently British.

And yes, I know that is a crazy way of thinking of it. Life threatening health events should not be viewed as fun, for fuck’s sakes. I really should be taking the whole thing a lot more seriously.

Whatevah. I am home now, and eating, and my blood sugar is going back to normal, and so to be, at least for the moment, all is hunky dory in my little world.

This happens every time I go to therapy without eating lunch first. As patient readers know, I find it hard to eat before therapy because I usually have entered a state of anticipation and/or agitation and that tends to suppress my appetite and warn me that eating at that point might activate my “nervous stomach” and unleash IBS hell.

Plus, sometimes I need sleep so bad that I sleep all the way to 12:30 pm, which is when we usually leave for therapy.

That’s what happened today. Doesn’t make ending up in the LBSE state any less stupid – I could have grabbed an apple on the way out or something – but it does at least explain it a little.

Oh, and don’t worry too much about my craziness. I am not so far gone that I would deliberately avoid eating in order to have the “fun” experience of an LBSE.

I mean,. not unless I was really REALLY bored.

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I think too god damned much.

And not just in the most obvious way of being someone who neurotically overthinks every situation and ruins things for themselves.

That’s the sitcom version of thinking too much, and it applies to pretty much all us neuroitc intellectual types. I have definitely fallen victim to it myself. It’s a case of trying to screw in a light bulb with a hammer. The intellectual’s brain is reacting to its own agitation by doing its default, which is to attack the problem via ratiobnal problem solving and the application of intellect.

But because the problem is essentially an emotional one, this does not work, and all that ends up happening is that the rational brain’s frustration jacks up the agitation level even more, which makes the brain work even harder to solve it rationally, and before you know it you are freaking the fuck out.

I am lucky in that I recognized this in myself and learned to hit ctrl-C and exit the loop when I realize it’s happening.

Sometimes it is good to have a very strong emotional suppression circuit.

No, my version of thinking too much goes much deeper. I am talking about the same kind of hammer and light bulb issue but calcified into layers upon layers of frozen mentation that serve no purpose whatsoever, they are just the detritus of other times when the mind tried to think its way through an emotional problem and then gave up and put the whole thing on a shelf when that failed to work.

And it;s this detritus that is gumming up the works in my brain and making it so hard for me to think clearly, plan rationally, and sort through my tangled emotions so that I can get shit done for a change.

So what is needed is a targeted solution. Like with an anti-cancer drug, the idea is to create an antigen that destroys these pointless icebergs of frozen reason without (ideally) destroying any healthy active cells.

Call it a Spring Thaw. Only frozen things will be affected. And yes, there will be a flood.

But there are worser fates.

And I know, deep in my heart, that no matter how high the waters rage or how deep my silly little sandcastles get swept away, whatever emerges when the floodwaters recede and life is possible once more will be me. All me.

The real me.

And I think that’s worth getting a bit wet, don’t you?

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Hmmm. 250 words left and drawing a total blank on what to write about.

It’s just like what happened at the tail end of today’s therapy session. There was something like ten minutes left in the session and I just kind of….ran out of words.

That does not happen very often. I am almost never at a loss for words. If anything, my problem is that I generate far more words than I could ever express, even if I did nothing but write all day, every day, for a year.

And these unsaid words leave my consciousness but not my mind. They accumulate in the gutters and crevices of my mind and take up space and drain my mental resources. Each deferred word contains a tiny shard of energy from the intention to be said, and having all that energy locked away is really draining to a person.

More pointless icebergs to melt I guess.

Anyho, I ran out of words at the end of the session and ended up ending the session early because I had nothing more to say.

I know why it happened. The sheer amount of emotion stirred up by all the stuff we had talked about was overwhelming me and I needed some non-speaking time in order to process and sort through it all.

And I find that encouraging. Clearly, I was accessing some really deep stuff, enough to create a rare mental state. I want to do more stuff like that.

Whatever metamorpheses I need to go through in order to heal will not be pleasant, easy, or fun. I accept that now.

I am ready to surrender this form, this shape in order to be created anew.

Who knows what form I will take? Certainly not I. But I do know one thing :

Whatever form I take, I will still be me.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.