The start of a collapse

I have becoming increasingly aware of the politicised nature of my psyche.

I watch as different agent via for power over what I do and how I think. I tell myself stories about how exhausted I am so I get rest that I don't need, and then guilt my 'uselessly' self into making food that I'm not hungry for.

I can see how this society has saturated me with a large assortment of dopamine hijacking stimuli. Over so many years the animal inside of me has been, twisted out of shape, tormented into obedience, and coddled into a shape of a fat, lazy elephant seal. I have a great deal of rage built up against the outside world, but equally I know that the burden of my personal demons lays on my shoulders.

I say said this I noticed how carefully I was sewing the thread of a heroic epic with my shining face as on the cover. I'd be charmed by the idea, if I couldn't see that it's a dead end road filled with potent sense of superficial validation.

This false signalling is just one of the games that I play with you all. I'm quite grateful, my poorly constructed avatar has made it easier to give up on climbing the imaginary leader board of social success. . . but as I say this I notice how much effort I am putting in to collect my social validation tokens. (I notice referencing niche culture such as videos games is another one of my strategies for going validation.)

I think I am in for a world of great confusion. The glue that holds my internal narrative together has begun to melt away. I can't say I have any idea what is on the other side of this mess, and I am so close to lying to myself about how it's going to turn out alright. But the truth is that I have no idea. All I have to hold in my head is the idea that a pure sense of hope is all you need to navigate the storm of chaos blindly. . . If only I had such a sense of hope

I'm can't tell you why I am compelled to blow the whistle on the many masks that wear. I notice it is partly so I can tell myself a story about how I've been the victim to this great tragedy, the wounded part of me needs to sit on the couch eating pizza and binge watching Bojack Horseman.

Well there's the cover blown on another agenda.

I think that is all that I have in me for now. I hope to keep the world updated with how things are progressing with this fraction of the collective narrative.

I think it's time that we all start telling ourselves a some stories