Put this into the comments on this video after watching it.
The world is full of both good and bad, and who can say there’s more of one than the other? The world has unlimited amounts of whatever you need to counter your unwanted emotions. You just have to go look. Feel sad? Watch the sun set. Feeling lonely? Zoom a friend. Worried about your own death? Watch cat videos. This does not invalidate your emotions. Whatever has made you sad is just as sad whether you suffer or not. So why suffer? Sure there’s war. And there’s love. There’s callousness. And compassion. There’s Covid. And there’s hot chocolate. Do not let a bad taste in your mouth sour you on the world. It too is fleeting if you refuse to fixate on it. Both optimism and pessimism are equally irrational but the optimists are much happier. Be like them. How can you know enough about reality or “life” to judge it good or bad? Remember that when it comes to life, you’ve only lived one – your own. Don’t presume to be able to judge all of life based on one example. Remember that things are not always as they feel. If you burn your hands, the world does not suddenly change to become painful to the touch. The world has not changed at all, you have.. Learn to tell the difference and that alone will make you wiser than most. Don’t say “Life stinks.” Say “my life stinks right now. How are you?”
me, talking strangely, feb 28 2022
I think I may have just written my Desiderata.
Not quite sure why it came out in that particular tone, though.
But it works.
A. That sex-change surgeon is such a womanizer.
B. Yeah, but he really made a man out of me
Wisdom from nowhere
I really don’t know where all that stuff in my Fuzziderata (working title) up there came from. It all just started spilling out of me.
And there’s probably a lot more I could add. I just stopped when the flow ceased long enough for me to escape, more or less. But I could probably start it again.
Needs editing, of course. Proofreading, rewriting for brevity and clarity, some structural work. Not much – that’s the great thing about aphoristic listicles.
They have no structure! Woohoo!
Or does that mean they have the most sophisticated structure of all? Hmmm?
Anyhow, I have copied it into my notes file so I can work on it whenever I like. It will pretty much always be there, to be added to if and when the whim strikes me.
I think my writing is entering an interesting new phase.
Trouble staying…. um… staying…. uh…. SQUIRREL!
Having trouble staying focused lately.
For the most part, I am fine playing games. They are stimulating enough to be able to hold my attention, I guess.
But when I am blogging my mind keeps wandering off and I keep having to drag it back to what I am doing.
As is often the case when dealing with my overpowered talents, I feel like I am trying to walk a very large and powerful dog.
Which I have done, by the way. With Zane, the white GSD.
Boy did my arms get sore!
Anyhow, sometimes you walk the dog, sometimes the dog walks you, and sometimes you just hang on for dear life and try not to get dragged to your doom.
Perhaps the secret is to get better at keeping up.
Now where are those roller skates….
More after the break.
If my ego was as big as my brain
Or something like that.
OK, time to limber up my imagination and take on another chunk of the question of how to make my self-worth match my abilities.
Or at least represent a larger portion thereof.
Until now, I have let my depression fool me into thinking it’s impossible to bring those two into alignment because my abilities are so outrageously potent that no mortal mind could handle the reality of them without shattering like an opera singer’s champagne glass, leading to one of my worst nightmares : being trapped within the labyrinth of my own mind forever. No way out. Self-entombed.
But now that strikes me as silly.
Pretty sure the human mind can’t break itself that easily. Trauma from outside can break it, but on its own, the mind keeps itself basically together just fine.
Still, it’s hard to shake the image of myself as some kind of cackling egotist ranting about how you’re all less than the fleas on a black bear’s nutsack compared to me out of my mind.
So let’s deconstruct that. Yes, I am a hell of a lot smarter than your average bear. And that’s no small thing.
It’s huge. It tempts me to think of most of the adult population of the planet as idiot children. And I don’t want that at all.
Who wants to live in a world ruled by children? Every banker, every politician, every surgeon, every executive, everyone with any level of power over the fate of millions, including me, nothing more than teething toddlers.
Thank god that’s only a relative truth. Compared to me, they are dullards.
But compared to the rest of the kiddies, they are fine. I guess.
See, these are the ugly thoughts I have been avoiding. But the time for such cowardice is over. Time for me to finally grow into that outsized brain of mine.
And if that means I have to pass through the valley of being a total asshole, so be it.
I will try to spend as little them there as necessary.
Let’s get into the meat of this : say I had that enormous ego.
No really. Go on. Say it. I can wait.
See? I knew you could do it. Well done.
If I had an ego like that, it would be so hard to relate to others. I think that’s my real fear.
I already have enough trouble connecting with my fellow Earthlings humans. If I let my ego soar that high, it feels like I would lose sight of them entirely and end up in some deeply abstract mental state incomprehensible to most of humanity.
And to the human part of me as well. Sigh.
But this is all about intellect, and intellect isn’t everything. Not by far.
I might be smarter by far than most people but the average persons is stronger, saner, more successful, more respected, more loved, and way happier than me.
Yay, I won the IQ race. What’s the prize? A stupid fucking life due to crippling mental and physical health issues? Whoopee.
Can I ask what the prize for second place was?
And yet, this brain of mine is not useless. It is, in fact, massively powerful and worth a hell of a lot on the open market if I could just get myself sane enough to use it for something other than goddamned video games.
The real problem, then, is that I am afraid of reality. Too scared to approach it directly. When things get too real, I get anxious.
Especially when I am getting personally involved.
It’s like it all turns into this enormously overstimulating feedback loop, where all the inputs feed back into themselves and overload my poor consciousness.
I need to somehow break out of that loop. Or at least take out the amplifier.
Ctrl-C! Ctrl-Break! Ctrl-Alt-Delete! Mayday, mayday! SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Yet, I know that the loop serves the same function as the rest of my depression’s bag of tricks : to insulate me from reality. To act as a barrier for me to hide behind so I don’t have to deal with the harshness of the real world at all.
When I was raped as a child, I turned away from the world that I could no longer handle. I became a creature of mirrors and illusions, and learned to simulate being here so well that I often forget I am not. Not really.
No wonder nobody has ever truly gotten close to me.
No wonder I am all alone in this airless void of mine.
No wonder my soul has been on a bare subsistence diet for as long as I can remember.
These thick walls don’t let in much light.
And I don’t even know how to feed myself.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.