As I sit here alone and write this, I feel enormous peace.
It is possible this peace can only be felt when alone.
In fact, I am almost certain of this — at least for me, in this stage of my life.
It has never been more obvious to me than now: I have always gravitated towards being alone.
Other people, no matter how well-intentioned they may be, tend to bring me grief.
They do not realize it, but they bring with them significant baggage. (“Good” baggage is still baggage.)
The way I live and breath when alone, is significantly different.
When I go extended periods of time without solitude, I suffer.
And while the feeling of loneliness does arise in the beginning of a “run”, it usually evolves into something completely different.
It’s almost always “worth it”.
It’s like I unlock a new part of myself, every single time.
I suppose the way I think is fundamentally different from those in my life.
And when I exit “their world”, I step outside of the box, and float off into outer space where I belong.
“Normal life” does not excite me.
Pretending it’s satisfactory with you and your friends definitely doesn’t excite me.
Everybody is afraid to wield their sword, because they might get cut.
I have been cut, my friend. All wounds heal in due time.
And perhaps you will learn to avoid making the same mistake in the future.
This is how it must be, unless you are content with cowering in the prisons of hope, fear and denial for the remainder of your life.
A quote from a song comes to mind: “If it doesn’t scare you, you’re not doing it right. If it doesn’t faze you, you’re doing nothing at all”.
Anything “worth doing” almost always carries with it some level of perceived risk.
I suspect this perception develops into something entirely different with time. But in the beginning, this does seem to be the case.
I’ve never liked to do anything halfheartedly. I’d rather do nothing at all.
Either we move mountains, or we do nothing.
I admit, this comes with its own set of heinous problems. And I do not recommend this type of thinking to anybody. I only describe the inner workings of my own mind.
My life tends to be one of extremes.
I will go extremely long periods of remaining indoors where I speak to virtually no one.
At times I deliberately make myself inaccessible to almost everyone in my life, including my own family, regardless of the repercussions. Not out of spite, not out of malice — but out of necessity.
I tend to sleep too much, or very little.
If I’m captivated by something, nothing else matters.
If there is a mission, nothing else matters.
In stark contrast to this, I also have an immense desire to roam the world as a free man, and will continue to do so.
If there’s nothing I deem “worth going after” however, this lifestyle can certainly devolve into something akin to purgatory. I have also noticed this type of thinking tends to rear its ugly head in the presence of others.
It’s not even that they “don’t think big enough”. It’s like the way they view reality on a fundamental level cripples anything even relatively inspiring before it has the chance to reach the doorstep.
Many of these people would call my lifestyle unhealthy, unbalanced, irresponsible — selfish, even.
But I couldn’t care less what Joe at the water cooler deems “unhealthy”.
I have always seen through the lies of society.
Even as a small child.
Even before I knew they were lies.
I have always sensed something was grotesquely . . . off.
I have found the masks people don to be woefully transparent. And behind these masks — behind all of the jokes, fake smiles and false identities — pain, disappointment, and discontent is all that remains.
I am no stranger to these ways. I have been shaped by this world, just like the next person.
The only difference between me than most is the willingness to see things as they are.
And I will succumb to this no longer. I will rise from this muck, even if it kills me.
The vast majority of people in this world will not understand this. They have been duped into duping themselves for so long there’s simply no going back.
There will always be a limitless number of ready-made rationalizations at your disposal.
The people around you will always be more than happy to see you remain exactly where you are, regardless of what they might say.
And if you try to leave the ranch, they will fight to keep you there. “Crabs in a bucket” is one of truest metaphors about human behavior (and my personal favorite).
To escape Earth, you must first make it past the guards. These are normal, everyday people — friends and family included.
There is nothing inherently “bad” about these people. But they cannot join you on your journey into outer space.
They did not sign up for it, and can only advise against it.
To truly lift off, one must be alone.
If you speak to anybody consistently, let it be restricted to those who help propel you forward, rather than those who hold you back.
This may be one or two people, if you’re lucky. The truth is most people worth talking to are virtually inaccessible by design.
I am aware these are fairly strict ideals to strive towards. Ruthless, even. And this is why they are not meant for the average person.
But these are by no means rules. Once again, I only describe what seems to be the case for me.
If you run to others in hopes they will be equally inspired by your vision, you will be sorely disappointed, and the inspiration will wane.
And if it’s not inspirational, life-changing, or personally meaningful and significant to you in some way, then what’s the point? To simply survive?
I suppose if that’s what you want to do, then you have every right. But you will miss your life.
Every day will melt together and harden into weeks and months and years of insignificant blur.
Is there anything inherently wrong with this? Of course not.
But these are unconscious leaps towards death, and we never see it the day it comes knocking. We are blindsided at every turn, especially the last.
If there’s no mission, life becomes an exercise in acceleration towards death.
Perhaps this is what most people subconsciously want. I do not blame them.
But there is another way to live life. I do not know how to find it, only that it exists, and can be found. Oftentimes it takes on different forms, and cannot be sought out directly.
Perhaps the question that now arises is not “is there anything that would make your life worth living”.
But rather: if there’s anything that would make life extremely precious to you, then what would that look like?
Usually it gives you some type of leverage. Once again, it must be “worth doing” to the point where it’s already done.
Either things happen, or they do not.
But when we make things happen, we do it in spades.
It’s not inside the box, my friend. It’s not even on this planet. And you cannot see it from where you currently stand.
The entire point in seeking something like is that it’s one of the few escapes from the purgatory you now call home. It’s a wormhole to freedom.
How to access it may be indescribable, and futile at best. It’s likely this place can only be found by the one seeking it.
But if it is sought, it is found.
The only question that remains is, will you venture into the deep unknown?
I can honestly say I’m not sure why anyone would do this. Even with the promise of true peace. People only believe in what they’ve seen and heard. To conjure something new is too much to ask from the conditioned, compliant, ignorable masses.
I only do this for myself.
To disassemble my mind, bit by bit.
To be on the outside, looking in.