I behold myself as some kind of wizarding monk who is documenting a forgotten experimental approach in introducing proof-based abstract mathematics to high school students. The subtle changes I inject into the solutions gives me a sense of creativity, but a strict adherence to the formal presentation of the algebraic structures and computational methods adds the "monk" dimension to it.
That is, unlike someone such as Arthur Schopenhauer who spoke 7 different languages and was financially independent, that is, one who was able to make use of his economic status to gain intellectual, mental, and spiritual independence, I may be more rough around the edges with limited mental capacity who is drawn to the computational mathematical methods, but who must struggle to maintain the rigor of "formal pure mathematics."
Keeping this in mind, I see what a Razor's Edge it is, that there is another life, another option, cracking beers in the morning, shuffling through the work-a-day world, then living some kind of delusional fantasy in a half-drunken state at night. The freaks come out at night, right?
But I have been spared such a fate thanks to my being tone deaf, where my singing is not "entertainment," but more of a gutteral animal emoting. So, after the smoke has cleared, in an almost novelesque way, this aging creature, not quite ancient, but certainly beyond its prime, returning to those "school mathematics texts," honoring the material in such a way, adds a kind of Joseph Campbell MYTHS TO LIVE BY dimension to this otherwise mundane and redundant ritual of breathing in and out.
To be a freak of Nature is not a choice. I think that being a freak with a rich inner life may be infinitely less depressing than one who is compelled to engage with the social fabric, or even to offer oneself up as passive entertainment, to be poked with a stick like a circus gEEk in a cage.
I would say that developing a love for solitude, almost a requirement for serious reflection and contemplation; that is, for the development of a mental life, would spare those the fate of being sucked up by the music industry fantasies ...
All in all, I suppose we are all monsters if we viewed ourselves honestly. Creepy senstive imbalanced monsters who eat and poop and decompose.