37 Online If you can understand this, we'd get along

I could write a whole chapter about what I am looking for, but instead I want to share something I wrote. If this resonates, then that already tell me a lot about our chance of getting along. At the heart of it, there's an existential state that if familiar to you, we already share a lot in common, might not be a conventional approach around here, but it is mine:

\---

The challenge is finding a way to reconcile a state of identity malnourishment and to mitigate the long-term damage of trying to survive on artificial additives for critical connective tissue to the fabric of the universe.

I cannot believe what they say about me, because it will ruin me, and I cannot find comfort in what I am inclined to believe, because I don't trust what I see. I don't trust myself.

So you are left in a bind; nothing is real. Whereas one thing could be real. You can let it consume you, you can let it become your high priest. Your north star. Let it fill in the gaps, the humdrum of days, the fuzzy, thwarted radio-silence.

I cannot withhold the distortion either, as it is much more corrosive and violent. I am left in a wasteland of unclaimed swamps in a bed of fog. and the air is thick, thick with theory, self-talk, and assertions exchanged in the fraternity of echoes. The air is so thick, you can barely breathe.

Perhaps the right to priesthood had been given away, too freely, too cheaply to men of no faith. No faith at all. Perhaps intellectual scrutiny leaves your heart all too exposed to the menace of barren chaos. Oh, why is it their eyes gleam the brightest? Why are God's feathers of iridescent colors, with pigment that taints through perfect designs?

If I am subjected to the comforts and 2nd place prizes that self-concept offers, then at least make it unknown. Let me believe it completely. Let me fall into self-assuredness. Bless me with toppling over the line, and into oblivion.