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

I do wonder why I even bother studying.  Surely my motivation must be raw interest since employment involves so much ... phoniness.  I can't adapt to the world of phony liars.

OK, so I accept my outsider status.  It's been official for quite some time.  I do not participate in society's phony bull-sh-it ways.  I can't stomach weddings or even being around a group of people watching a sporting event on TV.  It all makes be sick.  I can see how I have drifted into this solitary dimension.

Why do I bother studying what I do?

Listen, I study out of curiosity and to get a feel for something.  I have periods of initial enthusiasm, and I don't ever feel I am wasting my time doing it.  It does not mean I am looking to find a job.  One of the turn-offs about reading tutorials or watching tutorials is that the presenter thinks everyone is coming from the same place, that everyone is trying to become more employable or trying to keep a "position" with a company.

This too makes me ill.

I feel hatred.  That's what I mean by ILL.  That's what I mean by SICK.

Pure Hatred.

And yet I continue to study ... out of curiosity.  That's all.  I dabble and explore.

Wow ... frustration ... I guess I am an Orwellian Thought Criminal ... a subversive loner with a disdain for mainstream society.

I was contemplating on the fact that many go into debt to afford a car so as to keep a job that will pay for the car.  I see the hamster wheel.  I see it.  And many cave in to the pressure to conform out of fear ... fear of the herd.   I see ...

Anger within me ... The best revenge is to continue to study and learn for no reason whatsoever.  It is all devoid of purpose and necessity.

How many others must face the same void?   And there we have it.  I have stared into the abyss, and where others may have done themselves in, I stick around ... just to fart around and study obscure and difficult concepts.  Eh, I am living an existential novel.

I don't have to write like Kafka.  I live Kafka's fiction while he reported to work afraid to metamorposize into the creature I am.

One has to be an intelligent monster, intelligent enough to make it clear to even the stupidest that you are not out to harm anyone.  For if the herd gets it in their collective heads that you pose some kind of threat, well, then you will be apprehended and put in an institution for observation.

No.  I just like to sit around and think ... and sometimes actually lay down and think of how pleasant it must be to not exist ... We are concerned about writing something that might be misconstrued by knuckle-dragging bullies of the mafioso state pizza mall brigade?

HA!  I see how literature is suppressed.

OK ... Transformations and their Orbits ... that's the title of chapter 2 of Stepanov's Elements of Programming.  You see, theoretical studies hold my interest ... and, in the meantime ...