{∅, {∅}, {∅, {∅}}} : Rage Against the Meat Grinder

Maybe there is something to this "rapid cycling bipolar disorder" ...

I was up until 4AM working on some code for displaying the continued fraction of an irrational number, including bracketting off the periodic part.  I had decided to look at the source code SymPy uses, and try to translate that into C/C++.  It turns out I learned I could use C++ STL <map> to implement the way the Python code (SymPy) pulls it off, and the code turned out quite elegant (brief and to the point).

When I awoke this morning, the depression I had been experiencing all day yesterday had vanished, replaced by a humble sort of pride in my stubborn tenacity.

I wouldn't even care if my brain has been hijacked by the Soul of the Computing Machines ... if it helps me learn more about computational programming, so be it.

Sometimes I think, I don't know how long I can go on like this.  Then I think of Waiting for Godot.

We will never draw any crowds with the truth.

I am convinced that people prefer lies and fairy tales.  Anything but contemplation on the creatures we really are.

As I have mentioned before, even though I have decided to devote myself to studying math as a way to remain off the booze, there are times when I imagine a large bottle of whiskey in my future --- and yet!

Like a protagonist in a Dostoevsky novel, I don't feel obligated to  make sense anymore.  I don't want to NEED anyone to take any interest whatsoever about what goes on in my head or what it is I do all day.   I'm not impressed with actors who practice their lines all day for a live performance or something to be filmed, so why would I care that such extroverts would be likely to mock the things which occupy my days, my years, my lifetime?

I seek TOTAL INDIFFERENCE and DISDAIN.

Also, I don't want anyone who posts here to think they have to make any sense whatsoever.

Let us blurt things out and jump from one topic to another.

Let us talk to the walls.

I see the world.  I can't help but see the world ... but much of what I think of as the world bombards me from the television I can't help overhearing.  I wish I could remember that that world is not so very real.   It just seems to be real.

I hide from the world, and yet I do not hide from facing that which might drive others to suicide or at the very least, to the liquor store.

A neighbor from about 12 years ago, when I was living in an apartment complex on Rental assistance, once told me that if he had my brain, he most surely would commit suicide.

So, I guess I am fortunate to have the temperament to enjoy my own company.

As Raul has told me, my stubbornness is a benefit that helps me to maintain this strong disdain for the values of society.  Having no interest in being "hired" by an employer shows me just how much I must differ from so many others.  That I do not envy "couples" or even large "families" - that is another clue.

I should never be surprised to find my views so very different from so many others in society.

Nor should I be surprised to find that I detest or despise those who puff themselves up as "good people".

They like to see themselves in this light.  They have a narrative of who they are in their head.

And yet they can never escape the confines of their Being A Creature with an appetite, a living organism in constant disturbance and anxiety.  THAT is hardly ever discussed in that TV Land.\

I wish Schopenhauer wrote about what he ate. 

I wish writers were more honest and did not try so hard to impress or to solve "the great riddle of existence".

We should not expect to be understood.   I doubt people really want to understand anything.  They mostly just want to be amused, entertained ... If anything, our existence is a topic for their amusement, something to mock.

Or, perhaps, once one has reached a certain degree of "psychological insight," they become unfit for polite society.  They make others uncomfortable.

Thinking about math, I wonder how many have been kept occupied throughout their lives with such studies, and I also wonder if such studies played in part in many suicides.

I mean, it appears that life is a cruel joke, and the promise of making any kind of progress in a discipline such as mathematics has surely disappointed a great many.

In a world such as ours, there is a good chance that one who studies mathematics over many years will eventually develop a bitter attitude toward the blockheads and businessmen and landlords and all the hordes who have far more financial security, who have disdain for such studies.  Yes, I can see someone becoming bitter and angry.

Me?  I do not wish to give the society or even extended "family" members the satisfaction of witnessing my disappointment with life.   And yet, I do not trust those who do not feel disappointed with life.

I really suspect people are dishonest - even if they do not know they are dishonest.

I am socially handicapped by my intellectual honesty when dealing with phonies or those who lack insight into their predicament.

Just say no to "therapy".  I would rather seethe and brood in isolation and explore how I really feel than expose myself to "feel good folk wisdom".

I'm with Ligotti.  I'm with Cioran.  I'm with Holden and Raul.

There is something powerful and ironic in this kind of communication we maintain here.

It's similar to how Schopenhauer has been able to reach those few who would appreciate his outlook.

You see, Schopenhauer suspected that nearly everyone experience existence the way he did, and I believe they do - but there are those who will deny this, those who will contribute one's depressive views to personality traits or a bad attitude.

In a sense, many people will DENY REALITY and claim that they are "fine".

They think everyone is stupid and that they can fool someone like me or Schopenhauer who knows better.

Ha!   Fuucking phony liars!