First entry from bed.
Diary, I think that, whatever it is consistent throughout our life, the things that never change and all our experiences only serve to assert that, becomes our unshakable belief, and that must be who we are, and that must be our personality.
For me, it is a deep hatred for humanity. I have enjoyed others' company, all when I was little and haven't developed much differently. Now I am severely bored, and my outlook for this world looks grim.
It's not that I think I'm above anybody, but I do think that either there are only a handful of people who are aware of this, or most people have better coping ability than me. I'm leaning towards the latter, quite frankly, because how can anyone miss this? The woes of an industrial life, the dullness of censorship, the shackles of senseless morals, the nihilistic attitude that is the by-product of rationalism. How could anyone miss this? If anything, the average human being, no matter where he is or how old he is, knows this better than I. I have freed myself from society and rules, not because I had any privilege, really, any privilege at all, but because of my will and my choice. And it is in doing so, making those choices that I find so few have chosen the same. We might feel the same, but so few have acted on it.
It takes a certain willful ignorance to make work of any false economy. Rationalism dismantles much of the old construct around which we develop our culture and creativity. Was 10 hecatombs ever seen as a practical solution- or was it a way to ease boredom to begin with?
It's very hard to become interested, let alone invested, in what people create anymore. Everything I've ever been fond of gets destroyed once I get to know it better. But curiosity is the only thing that keeps me going. The worst I've done is toward humanity.
I'm not depressed, Diary, nor have I ever been. Since it's a disease. I believe what I'm feeling now is the norm. Or should be. It takes unfathomable mental strength to commit to a life where every element is formulaic. I . .