Everything is Imposing

All the things that I want to do scare me.

My friends, years ago, decided it was best to let yourself “Get Scared” because you will create some great things and put yourself out there. People respect those who believe in themselves. Manic depressive types do not consistently think they are up to anything spectacular, but ache for those days when they had in the past. I think it is a common delirium, to wish for the mania during the depression. In truth I should be scared of mania as well, I have never made good decisions while really up on that scale. I think a little bit of balance in the best way, manic in some ways, depressed about others and maintaining ones life so as to become the genius who we each can become.

The one thing that I want to do is write, so I must because I must. There is peace in that refrain, with the “because I must” continuing to reverberate forever. I want to do good works, I want to be one of the passionate types of great writers that create change everywhere they go. This is an example to follow, but does not consider the retribution that comes from actually creating change. This thought creates further fear in my psyche. People are killed for changing the world. The powers that be do not like people who expose that they are stupid as well. In truth, they are just like us. They have no idea what they are doing with their time. One person told me politicians have no idea what to do, that they just react. Another told me that the key to politics is not even to react, but to ignore it so long that the people fighting for the change will just shut up and go away.

I can set goals as well, and it seems that I reach every goal that I set. That is an interesting thought that can bring my mind to rest. I just need to know what I want. People in power know what they want, that is one thing that all the self-help books and seminars I have heard keep repeating. If I were to figure out what I wanted then I could work at making that thing a success. It is hard to be up to anything without knowing just what it is you are up to. For example, I am frustrated with looking for work so I told myself I want to write a piece for my blog. Look at what I have done just by defining the goal and sending my energy towards it.

    • I want to be a avid worker and create some great works of art.
    • I want to be a renowned writer who can buy a house from the writing he does.
    • I want to help the people who cannot help themselves, people who are lost and need peace.
    • I want to become influential enough to actually spark change in the world, which is a very odd place filled with suffering and disparity.
    • I want to make a difference in the world so that my family and friends are proud of me.

The last point on that list is the one that worries me. How special do I think I am? It must come from the idea that I am inadequate compared to how special they made me feel I was when I was child, right? This depression thing is an ego trip. I just want to be special like they made me feel when I was young. I have the lack of self worth and I refuse to accept that we are nothing, able to effect nothing in perpetuity and that scientific thought that the universe is a cold, unfeeling fluke. I refuse to believe that there is no point to life. That is not a trouble. It is a beautiful thing. It seems the further you go on the line that dictates happiness, the closer you get to the other feeling. It is like that line connects, like the connection of mania to depression creates a circle. The thought needs some more unpacking, but I feel like I haven’t got the mind to do that. It must be all the fluoride they give me so that I am complacent and apathetic. It must be the delirium ray that they shoot at us from the large hadron collider.

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