Journal Entry 8-14-16

Peter Gabriel – My Body Is A Cage

The Tranny embodied my hope. In my teens, I seriously considered suicide, and decided that life offered a measure of control that death did not. So, I developed a degree of metacognition that facilitated a happy life. Not nearly as far as I could go, but enough to be happy.

A decade or so has passed since then, and all I’ve seen is bad luck. At least, I tell myself it’s bad luck, soasto nurture hope. I tell myself that all people aren’t so damned backwards; I take heart from the few works of art or philosophy that display sane authors – that good people exist, I just need to find them.

But, going over my memories for the zillionth time, consistently reassessing my surroundings, I see little possibility of finding company. Instead, I see people, mostly driven by instinct, with little comparable sentience to my own – and I’m not that impressive, nor have I given it serious effort.

I remember my numerous attempts at finding equals, failing. The cause always seems the same: I’m special. Or especially deluded. I’ve accepted that life will pass, I will die, the world will keep turning. I just don’t want to do it alone; people are the only good thing about life.

It seems that I’ll go on as I have, alone, a pariah through superiority. So, I’m considering suicide again. Mildly from depression, but more importantly through a lack of hope, of possibility for finding company. I could succeed in life, but why bother if alone?

With the Tranny, I thought I finally caught a break; so I opened the gates holding back the pain of loneliness. I was wrong. Now, having seen the depths of his seeming self-deception, despite his genius and motivation for rationality, it’s even more difficult to imagine finding love.

So, I consider suicide again. I’m simply not interested in continuing the rest of my life alone. I suppose, if I decide to do so, I’ll first explore metacognition to dangerous degrees – tinkering with my mind to unsafe limits. I can overcome the loneliness, and push myself forward, as I always have. But then, maybe that’s my delusion.

Fuck my life.

 


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~ by Louis Naughtic on August 14, 2016.

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