Noblesse Oblige [Journal 5-7-17]

Sugarland – Stay.

In meditating consistently, I recalled having previously been happy and vigorous; not merely the abstract fact of it, but temporarily reliving that state of mind and body. It was good. While reestablishment of that state maynow be impossible, I can nevertheless metacognate a near-duplicate. Though a derivative, it won’t necessarily be inferior.

In doing so, in making my happiness and health an instrument of my will, I’m confused. If my happiness is not determined by my surroundings, what value does the external world have to me? That is to say: if I can will happiness and health, why would anything else in life matter?

My body’s existence, and thus my mind’s, is reliant on the stability of my surrounding environment. War breaks out, I might die. No air, I die. And of course, I need food, water, and shelter, for my mind to function properly, to facilitate metacog.

Pretty bland to live merely to keep myself alive, and to functionally psycho-masturbate with metacog. But, now that I think of it, that’s basically all anyone does with their life: while I can will a variety of pleasant and unique thoughts and sensations, other people seek external stimuli to generate internal contentment.

Whether or not I’ll get bored of these self-induced experiences, and require inspiration from new and exciting external events, I don’t know. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t rather go back to who I used to be – driven by the delusion of a solidaritous world. I was very, very happy. But, disillusionment with humanity makes that return.. impossible? I want to think that a partner would make it possible.

Infact, being in control of my emotions makes enjoying the external easier, but doing so often causes me to get lost in the activity, reinvigorating older patterns of thought wherein I’m dependent on pleasant surroundings – and repression of metacognitive functions reigns. I basically forget how to control my happiness.

So, to avoid losing my new capabilities, I have to keep practicing self-control. Otherwise, I’m unprepared for the depression generated by facing humanity’s immaturity. I’m still in the calibration stages; hopefully I can learn to will my happiness and health, and enrich it with the world around me. All while accepting humanity as a permanent and gargantuan hindrance.

I kind of buried the lead here, though. What inspired this train of thought was the new girl. Turns out she’s more like Tranny than I guessed, and thus is certainly incompatible with me. I was sad once I confirmed that, and still somewhat am, as it occurred yesterday. But I want to elaborate on my emotional response to that realization.

Usually [throughout the depression], I’d have been crushed and wallowed in self-pity for quite some time, likely for days and weeks, and my overall mental state would have worsened. I could feel those thought-patterns beginning. Even now, I can feel them trying to gain momentum. But, the domineering mental pattern, is the self-control I’ve established over my emotions.

Instinctively, the mental patterns which I’ve practiced, are shrugging off the sad-sads generated by the lose of a potential match – I’m not even really trying. Which is great, but confusing. I’m learning to genuinely not care that people are, most often, atrociously abhorrent – given that there’s simply nothing I can do about it. This response feels like a perverse betrayal of my ideals.

I feel that I should be outraged and saddened, that I should want to change the situation. I want to, as I have in the past, attempt to change people for the better, to help them and improve the world. But I can’t. It’s not a possibility, given that people are most often clueless about their own thoughts and emotions, are instinctively infuriated when the subject is brought up, and I lack the far-reaching resources required to educate them in how to be sane. All I can do is watch as people go about their destructive behavior, trying my best, with minuscule resources, to keep them the hell away from me.

This change in my perspective is unsettling, as it signals my subconscious acceptance of the world being far uglier than I imagined, and my prospects far grimmer. Well, nothing I can do but soldier on or give up, and I still have the will to try. We’ll see if I can keep it together once I get back to work, which if metacog keeps functioning, I’ll try around the end of the month.

As always: send lady-nudes.

Oh, Barathrum and Morticia were both adopted. Barathrum to a seemingly ideal home, Morticia to.. an acceptable one. I have no control over these matters. Max too, which I’m extra bummed about: that little bastard had a trickster’s nature akin to my own.

Journal Hub



~ by Louis Naughtic on May 7, 2017.

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