An eternally focusing, inward pointed lens.

I’ve often heard in my life that the greatest virtue that a person can possibly attain is the ancient greek aphorism “Know Thyself”, however in the complete collapse my life has undergone in the last few months, I’ve grown to know myself fairly well, and I’ve learned that I’m a tremendous disappointment.

About 7 years ago I figured out that you can fake the confidence that you don’t have and reap the benefits that comes with it. From the ashes of your dismal self image can come a shining albeit rough version of yourself that… while not entirely genuine… is far more rewarding than the real you was, sometimes just moments before. This can be intoxicating, and lead you down a path that perhaps you’re better left leaving. There is a limit after all to what can, and what cannot be faked.

Somewhere along the line I think I lost sight of that. I started to believe that the willingness to believe something was all that you needed to make it true… that our will alone could move mountains. Though this is a useful and inspiring position to have when it comes to surmounting a difficult obstacle, it’s also fragile, completely disingenuous and out of sync with reality. Now I’ve never had too much issue with being out of sync with reality, but lying and fragility are things I simply cannot tolerate.

So after almost of decade of faking it, I don’t feel any closer to being a successful human being than I ever have before. Perhaps this is just a manifestation of some duly earned depression, or the bleak and beleaguered world view of someone with too many hands too deep in too many pots of shit, but whatever it is I feel as though it’s revealing things about my character that I do not find appealing. Cowardice, negativity, opportunism, and the endless pursuit of that which I fundamentally cannot have are all traits I believe should not be a part of the psyche of man of the caliber I believe myself to be.

So this leaves your humble author in a dysphoria, but I’m sitting on top of an anniversary I’ll probably have to chemically forget, so maybe I’d be better off listening to Cibo Matto, than listening to the “Me” I don’t really want to be.