Sunday, February 15, 2009


The death of the individual mind comes with placing priority in the social mind.

Most people are raised to believe that the social mind is most important, to the degree that their inner dialogue becomes nonexistent in any substantial way. Opinions begin to originate as a conceptualization of what the social mind should think, and what outside reaction is. And the multitude becomes a hive.

Critical, non-apologetic, individualistic thinking has been snuffed out. Even the extent of individual thought is something that is so shallow compared to the purity of real individuality.

Our categories, our opinions, our recognitions, our freedom itself... becomes a hive.

I haven't written in a long time. I haven't wanted to. I have become so carved out because of the emptiness of society that I haven't even felt like committing the act of extroversion. I find only emptiness outside of myself.

Sensory deprivation; isolation is the key. There is no other path to enlightenment. The social mind is the antithesis of progress, especially when the social mind has become reactive only to knee-jerk emotions and propagandist control. My truth has never been reflected in anything outside of my own creations, and so I have suffered in development due to neglect and apathetic surrender.

I haven't composed anything in months. I haven't written in a serious manner in probably a year or more. Everything has become trivialized, and I never even noticed, because I have been trying to understand the social mind; I have felt outcast and wanted back in. And now, for some reason, gestalt as it may be, I return to my stance of rejection of the hive.

Where is real growth in a person? How have I never found it? The mirages that I manifest in other people throughout my life has always proven fruitless and melancholic. It's depressing.

But all I can do is build a universe of my own thought, because that is the only thing I have found to be truly amorphous; the only treasure discovered.

My preconception of killing creativity through mood regulating medication has built psychosomatic responses, creating that reality within me. But it doesn't have to be that way. There is no reason that I can not delve deeply, no matter the circumstances, no matter the chemical. Because when I reach my end, I feel I must have a record of both my descent and my own salvation at the final moments.

I have felt inferior because of my destructive nature towards thoughts I feel are misguided, because they are shared by so many. My own ideas are never shared by others, in my experience. This has caused me to doubt my own psychology and philosophical grounding. To be a disciple of Nietzsche is to occasionally lose oneself to a tumultuous thread, that once was split into two easily discernable strains... but now seems joined together in a stream of nonsense. It takes a lot of discipline and focus to find subjective truth, not in the sense of blind, relativistic conceding, but in a mighty self-obliteration and subsequent rebuilding. To hone yourself as an individual, not as a working insect: To put your individualistic mind before the social mind is the real truth of being alive. I will never be apologetic for that, no matter how sharply I condemn others for their folly, no matter how often I am berated for looking down my nose at untruth, no matter how many times I'm trivialized because of my "lack of understanding". There is truth in real appreciation; not in hive-mind opinionation.

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