Oh right. Angry and arrogant.
They’re not the prettiest of emotions but they lead in the right direction and that is all that really matters to me right now.
The truth is that progress will come only from embracing and strengthening my poor starved and neglected id (like that old dog….) and that means embracing a lot of unpretty things like anger, jealousy, ambition, greed, selfishness, lust, the craving for power, and all the other hot and heavy emotions that aren’t cute or nice.
I’ve pretending to be above or beyond these things for most of my life, but it was a lie. Because it’s not like I ever overcome those darker emotions. There was no transcendence. I never did the spiritual legwork.
I just suppressed them and that is nowhere near the same thing.
So in order to construct a healthier me, I am going to unsuppress these id based emotions and deal with them so I can integrate them into a fuller, realer, more complete and balanced version of myself.
Time to take off the fake angel wings and get down there in the dirt with the rest of the grunting, struggling, corruptible naked beach apes humping and fighting and squatting down there in the real world so I can learn to be a real little boy and not this artificial angel with imitation innocence and no knowledge of Eden or snakes or anything.
Surrendering my fake innocence might be the hardest thing of all. It’s been my reflexive defense against the world for so long. Staying out of that dirty world of competition and crudity and compromise has cost me everything and then some.
And that goes double for my so called objectivity. I have preserved it at the brutal cost of my humanity and my ability to connect to others for far too long. And for what?
To preserve a smugly superior sense of knowing what was “really” going on? To keep getting high off a feeling of “clarity”? To partake of the mystery cult of secret knowledge and being “right”?
Considering the cost, I feel confident in saying : NOT FUCKING WORTH IT.
Not much point in being one of the Secret Masters of Reality if you are too emotionally weak and impotent to do anything with it.
So fuck my objectivity. It was bullshit the whole time anyhow. Sure, I see a lot of things far more clearly than most, and that is definitely awesome.
But when it comes to the really deep shit that matters, like the things on which self esteem and emotional stability are based, I am as wildly delusional as the most rabid Trump supporter, so what’s the fucking point?
So to hell with my magic powers. They are useless without the non-magical kind. Without motivation, ambition, or even some goddamned active curiosity (the kind that gives your the urge to explore), all my ever so amazing abilities don’t mean shit.
Time to fire up my engines and get this big black truck of mine rolling.
This pit stop has gone on long enough.
More after the break.
Still fading away
Feels a lot like I am dying lately.
Sure hope that’s just the hypochondria talking.
But I feel so tired and weak all the time and I am afraid it is getting worse. It feels like some invisible force is squeezing me all over and slowly putting every inch of me to sleep like in a sleeper hold in wrestling.
Every day, it becomes harder to get out of bed. It takes forever for me to get the energy, will, and focus together. I end up just laying there for long periods of time and getting up in widely spaced out phases.
- Roll over onto back. Stare at the ceiling for a while.
- Move to the edge of the bed. Spend a long time in a null consciousness state.
- Finally move to the computer chair a foot away
Hilariously. I have been beating myself up for being “lazy” about this sequence of events, and it’s only just now that I realized it’s a part of my being real real sick.
Ain’t that a kick in the pants.
So go to the hospital already!
And tell them what, exactly? It’s the sort of thing without a focal point to point at and say “This is what is wrong with me!”. It’s a pervasive feeling of weakness and malaise that gets worse very slowly over time, and none of that screams “emergency” to me.
And that’s just typical, innit? I seem to have a genius for getting sick and dying very, very slowly. Glaciers progress faster.
And so there’s never anything to trigger a response. Heaven forbid that some panic about something actually worth panicking over should make it through the numbness.
We have to reserve all that panic for insane bullshit that isn’t even real!
I fear it’s going to take something extreme, like literally not being able to get out of bed, to spark me into action and make me call 911.
Of course, my phone is on my desk, so I would have to yell for one of my roomies to call 911 for me.
Sure hope someone’s home at the time. Maybe I need one of these :
Or the modern equivalent. Probably an app for the smartphone I don’t have yet.
Guess I should get on that. That, and a million other things.
I really do need someone’s help to keep me focused and progressing. Someone to keep track of my appointments and remind me of things I intended to do and in general help me cut through the mental fog.
Dunno how one gets one of those, though. Might be able to get one via provincial disability, but then again, Covid.
Covid really does fuck everything up, doesn’t it.
So I dunno. I feel very lost and adrift. The doldrums on steroids, basically.
Guess I’ll just die, then.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.