_Intro:

A recurring theme for the past few months has been identity. Another one would be the duality between connection vs. isolation. I'm going to throttle my words if I think too hard about them so let's indulge in some stream of consciousness, shall we? I don't expect people to read these anyway. Especially not after a hiatus of a few months. About that, it goes into the whole connection vs. isolation thing. And that intersects with the theme of identity and whole 'nother can of worms.

_Connection vs. Isolation:

I started the year making a promise to myself that I would branch out, reach people, build connection. That promise failed to gain momentum after only a few months. The reality is, what does the world want with an nsfw artist who doesn't follow through on his goals? Even outside of this account it's hard to feel like I'm a part of anything. But who's to blame, society? Autism? Maybe I'm just not cut out for this whole socializing thing. Best not let that idea linger, else I run the risk of internalizing it like so many other bad ideas.

If autism were a radio, socializing is a frequency you can't tune into. Of course, with enough training, you can eventually get there in some limited capacity. But I stop to think if there's something fundamentally wrong with me on a predestined, biologic level. And that's where the insecurities come in. Without revealing what they are I will say that the world has a way of pushing those buttons. Then the response is to close off, isolate, return to the comfortable and familiar. What it feels like is that the world doesn't want me or people like me and the only way forward is to mask. That means doing the same for my art.

That doesn't mean the only ideas in store are straight up goon-fuel, but I have to ask myself just how much of myself do I tailor to connect with others and is it even worth the effort? When everyone's so divided, and combative, and instinctually hostile, what's the point? Growing up means being more aware of everything. Every year I have to let go of another dream, it has to do with letting go of fantasy, wishful thinking. Is that what Hunter S. meant when he was talking about Tim Leary and the "grim, meat-hook realities"?

I once asked myself if there was healing in connection. That by maybe tailoring my art in way that could reach people who mattered, I would be a part of something. Some time, some where I could be accepted, valued, maybe even admired. But I ask again, what good is a nsfw artist who doesn't follow through on his goals?

Isolation is a slow death and sometimes it feels like that's all there is for me if I stay the course. The desire to connect is there. But not the ability or the opportunity.

_On Identity:

Upon closer inspection, the insecurities have been a problem of mine since high school. That's too much time to be carrying all that weight and it's left me with the question of just how much would change if I were born different? I suppose it's not healthy to dwell on those hypotheticals for too long, you'll rack your brain over the what ifs then settle on the realization that things could be better, could be worse. Just an unsatisfying middle ground.

But if we're talking about circumstances beyond our control you can look at all the decisions and experiences that brought you to this point. Shape it into some kind of meaning and call it identity. What it feels like now is a response to the strong desire that I wish I were someone else. With that comes the desire to have an entirely different life and when you look at it, the grass really isn't greener on the other side. Everyone's got baggage, got flaws. Maybe if we just stepped out of our own heads for a while we could really examine ourselves. A mirror is insufficient, this has to be work of the conscious mind.

I was watching a Kyle Hill video on the illusion of freewill. Call me materialistic but I've been partial to the scientific over the spiritual, there's just more to ground myself with for better or worse. But a point Kyle made in his video was that we have the illusion of choice just like we have an illusion of self. Now that's where the scientific and spiritual break bread-the illusion of self. If you look at it from the perspective that you aren't really you, you're just observing you, then that's a whole new lease on life. At least in my case, it gives me that chance to step out of my head, self-examine, move forward. Maybe that's it, the illusion of the self.

However, that still doesn't answer my next question which intersects with Connection vs. Isolation. When Kyle Hill said that freewill is an illusion, he implied that there's a nature to everyone. No different than the bear that ate Timothy Treadwell, certain people really can't alter themselves. You may choose to pursue your desires, but you can't choose what you desire. And there's the kicker.

So what does that mean for me? Because I could certainly try to connect to others with my art. I think doing so would mean losing the NSFW attachment. Sure, people gotta bust. But there's something more to art, even moreso than modesty vs. obscenity. It has something to do with just how much you stay out of your own ego. I think that's it! It's ego. Do I make something that I want others to enjoy or am I just appeasing myself and hope others catch on? And how much of myself do I give before I really burn out?

The world doesn't want me. Another idea I mustn't internalize. What I learned in my BritLit class is that pride can go both ways, from praise to degradation, but it's still an infatuation with ego. And how can I connect when I only think of myself?

I've used the phrase 'unhappy middle ground' before and the inversion of that is balance. I need balance. I can't change the fact that I like writing about fantasy battles between women with no clothes on. But I can't really leverage that to make friends, no sir. So what's the plan, make art that tailors to both desires: the desire to connect and the desire to self-gratify? I wonder what longevity that will get me.

And all the while I'm carrying that fucking weight around that tells me I'm not good enough, people won't just dislike me they'll despise me. And that weight follows me no matter how I choose to create my art. Back into the fucking cave then, don't trip on the beer cans in there.

_On Awareness:

Every year I let go of another dream. When you stop building fantasies in your head everything makes sense to you in all the worst ways. Since I began maladaptive daydreaming in middle school, I've been getting stuck in my head trying to escape. It's always been a defense mechanism now that I think about it. But that mechanism backfired on me when it turned into a false interpretation of the world. Like some Disney kid who never grew up, I built all these fantasies and fairy tales, and letting go of them made me aware of how dull and cruel reality is.

Yeah, it has turned me into a doomer at times, won't deny that. And being optimistic truly feels like the absurdist's route. Something I have to take on blind faith that the good ending is possible. That a good life is possible.

Let me get out of my own head for a second. Doomerism is more than just self-destructive because it turns into an obnoxious sweat that interferes with the lives the of people closest to you. And I am very close with people who are in a much worse position than I am. Not invalidating my own struggles, but I can go for a win-win here by not being a doomer. I can be a good friend to others and to myself by not cultivating the doomer mindset.

Aight, back to me. Hyperawareness. I'm hyperaware of my insecurities, of my spot in life, and all that thinking becomes a noise machine. A positive feedback loop of intrusive thoughts and negative thinking. The depression came back without my knowing and it's manifested in ways that have affected my relationships. If attention and focus is a currency, then hyperawareness blows that money on all the worst things.

I think some kind of eastern philosophy could do the trick. Buddhism, maybe some Hindu stuff. After all, monks don't seem bothered by this shit, I wonder what they'd have to say.

_Where To Go From Here:

Addressing the problem(s) is only have the battle, solutions should be the other. Otherwise it becomes some kind of self-denigrating masturbation. I don't think even submissives in a bdsm scene get off on that kind of humiliation. Self-destruction becomes habit that people get all too comfortable with.

I think I'll need another hiatus to truly study the skills I want to learn and that'll mean limiting distractions such as social media. There are still things that haunt me such as gender division, economic collapse, and my own lingering insecurities. But it was never for me to kick my insecurities out of a moving vehicle, just keep them from driving. I suppose that's all there is to it.

_Closing Thoughts:

I needed to write another entry because it's how I want to conclude the skull chatter-at least for another while. I want to believe that pessimism is just another fallacy masquerading as foresight. But that still leaves me with the same problem of how I need to reconcile my desire for connection vs. my desire for self-gratification (at least as far as my art is concerned).

The world is such a tumultuous place right now and I fear being left behind. My mom told me that neuro-divergents are late bloomers, apparently we start about 15 years after our peers. That thought does not sit well with me but she says there's still time.

I hope there's a place for me once the dust settles, after I'm done figuring things out. My dad says that life is just a series of transient points, there is no true destination. What I think he means is that also includes where you're at spiritually, mentally. You're never going to find stable ground because there isn't stable ground. It's just moving from one safe spot to the next. With that I don't attach any negative connotations because it is what it is.

Maybe that's what the stoics meant by apatheia. I'm gonna miss Einzelganger.

What left is there to say? Tomorrow brings something new and I can't make plans because that's not how this works. Despite my preference for science and whatnot, there's still a part of me that remains superstitious long after I've lost my faith. As I'm writing this, I can't help but feel like some force is orchestrating things. If I make plans for myself, my dad will ask me to help him with his. Guaranteed. So with that in mind, I suppose the best thing to do is stay limber. Physically and mentally.

But after all this yammering I feel at ease. If you clean out the closet, you may find some artifact that will surprise you. And so I keep writing.

-Errant out