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I feel different(ly)

Monday 7/5/21

It has been a very difficult holiday weekend. I have struggled to hang on. I am in some bad, bad place. The bad place is comprised of so many chambers that seem to feed into each other. There is the knowledge of being hated by an industry. There is the knowledge of being unloved. Unliked. Treated differently than anyone else is treated. There wasn't anyone in my family who even said, "hey, way to go," on the whole not drinking for five years thing. And they are such that if I pointed that out, I would be met with more hate, ridicule, scorn. Venom. Imagine how both sides of that reality would make a person feel. I have no joy. No leisure. Nothing ever to look forward to. I am completely alone in every way. I have not touched a female since 2016. All I see every day, every where I turn, is stupidity. Laziness. And that is what is welcomed. Anything in contrast to those qualities--for lack of a better word--becomes a pejorative. The more extreme the contrast, the greater the pejorative. All I can do, every day, there are no other options for me, is to create more works of art--which helps me not at all, and makes everything worse--and run stairs and walk obscene distances, so that I can continue on. There's nothing else. No one would so much as spit on me. There is no way out that I can conceive of. I watch as people I know to be evil people get rewarded, provided for. They're not alone. And some of them are so wicked. I wonder if everything is about the next world, and this one is a test, and judgments and rewards--or punishments--are handed out later? So do I have to die first?

And yet, this person who is hated by his entire industry, inclined to be hated by all of humanity, largely hated by so-called family, without family, without friends, is this person who, while all alone, and detested, gives nothing but love and wisdom and beauty to the world. This person with no one creates the most beautiful and illuminating works about relationships, family, children, friendship, the vastness of the human experience. Someone who doesn't have a single person to talk to. Who only has himself. Who has no children, no wife. Who is not a woman himself, who writes about women as no one has. Who writes about everyone as no one has, as if he is everyone at once. This man who is feared and hated and despised. I've come to notice the difference between being hated and despised. The later has to do more with comparison. What you are, vs. what someone knows, on some level, they are. There's more projection involved with despising someone than there is with hate.

I go on social media, and I see how simple and stupid everyone is. I see that no one can write at a third grade level. No one can read and comprehend. I have learned that there is nothing you can write, no matter how basic it is, that someone will actually understand fully. It's not possible. If you say, "I had an orange for lunch," someone will write below, "So you went to Alabama to hunt giraffes and Disney World was closed?" People have no language skills. That's why they've gotten rid of language. Gifs, memes. Cliches have replaced language. "Checks notes." "Asking for a friend." "Now do so and so." Because people know what those cliches mean, since it's all they see. You can go on a dating site, and it's like a miracle when someone knows that there are two words "then" and "than" and how to use them. All of these dumb women writing, "I'm looking for someone to compliment my life." I pointed out to one of them--because I couldn't take it--that the word she wanted was "complement," and she said, "I feel different. I disagree." I mean...what's the point? How do you get anywhere with intelligence, with written works of art, in a world like this? I write these people I can't stand. There is no cleverness. There's nothing different about anyone. So I see a profile that has only half the words spelled wrong, and I write this person because it's them or no one else. Do you know how many people spell the word "beach" incorrectly? "I love the beeche lol." And they'll have the box ticked saying they have an advanced degree.

Sometimes I join groups on Facebook to have things to look at. I joined a classic horror film group. I've left it already. Someone would say, "Has anyone ever heard of like this really old Frankenstein movie I think it's like from the 1930s with that guy who was the Grinch." Why are you in a classic horror film group if you don't know one of the two most famous horror movies ever made? No one knew anything prior to 2000. People don't know anything. They're not there to know anything. They're lonely and empty and they want the community. They want to say something dumb and get the likes. Because they're dead inside. And they're dumb. They can trick themselves into thinking this means anything. And that to me seems the key to modern life--to be dumb and be able to trick yourself into believing insanity, lies, fabrications, distortions.

Someone in this group posted a "joke." Took the form of two photos. So call it a gif or a meme, I don't know. And one photo was a shark swimming in the ocean, and it was captioned, "Scientists recently learned that the ocean is salty because sharks just want to be hugged a lot and don't get hugs so the cry." Then, next to that photo, was a still from Jaws, when the shark is biting the boat, captioned, "Hug me!!!!!"

Good God do you have to be dumb to do this, like it, think it's great stuff. But then there are 3000 people--adults, in their fifties--saying, in broken, illiterate English, that this is the funniest thing they've ever seen, it made their week or month, keep 'em coming, and doing awful, awful jokes of their own in response.

And that's what I'm working with. That's what is out there. I was saying to somebody that you can't understand how truly stupid most people are unless you're reading online. Where you see how they write, where you see how they can't comprehend anything that they read. When you see language skills that wouldn't pass muster in second grade. Almost anything clever will not be understood. People won't get a joke if it's not a bad joke that has been made millions of times. Something that was not funny then, that's not funny now. Funny isn't about funny; everything is about the label and the expectation and the official packaging that you recognize as "here is a thing you are supposed to think is funny." It's a post-reality world. It's not about the thing being a thing; it's about knowing that you're supposed to recognize it as a kind of thing, and when you do that, you don't have to be alone, because you're having the exact same reaction--which isn't a reaction at all--that others are having, though in reality, you're so alone, you don't even have yourself. You're a post-human wind-up toy. Because when someone like this person goes to a party, and they complain to me about how stupid everyone is there, they're not seeing those people for how stupid they are, because it's covered up by body language, laughter, various social tics, "oh, he's cute," eye contact. The social cues of being in the flesh. But if you received a note from one of those people, or read through their Twitter posts, or saw instances where they tried to reply to a comment that someone else made, you'd realize they were far stupider than you thought at that party that you already wanted to flee from.

I pretty much read all day. I know this world. I see how people talk and how they think and how they can't process what they read or hear. There is no individuality. People are zombies. No one can think. Someone like Kimball can think, or Wickett, but these people are one out of several million. They're not one out of ten. And with those people, yes, it works. When they know that they should check out something. But if I wasn't on his show, Kimball wouldn't know who I was. I mean, he didn't in 2017. Because I'm not talked about on account of being blackballed by an industry, and feared, envied, and despised. He knew people infinitely inferior to me who are talked about. That's how it works. But I see things in common that every successful person has. They're simple. They're stupid. They are not clever. They say nothing new, nothing interesting. They have no language skills. I mean publicly successful. You have to be a moron. The key to success is being exactly like everyone else. And giving them exactly what they already think, how they think it, in the terms--the stupid, immature, embarrassing--terms they think it in. People just want themselves. Their simple, lazy selves, with their wasted, incurious, empty, autopilot lives. And they don't want to be challenged to raise their game. Rather, they want to be encouraged to think even less, to do even less. It's comforting to them. That's all they want. That is all just about anyone wants. They'll say things they don't mean about how you only live once so make the most of it, and they live to the fullest, and all of that nonsense. But it's all a complete lie. There are worms in the ground that live harder and fuller and richer than most people. And with more courage. People just want to be lied to and enabled. They want it from their president. Their celebrities. Their blue check marks on Twitter. The sign they stuck in their lawn that gives the lie that they're a good person of vigorous ethics and integrity. Their entertainment content makers. Their family. Their friends. A lot of them have kids because what else were they going to do, and they want a small version of themselves they can control. Make like them. I used to feel a much different way about adoption than I do now, because I know how much the flesh matters to people. Control and narcissism.

Sometimes I try to think, okay, look, you're the smartest person to ever live, but you are alone, and this is hard, and God couldn't endure what you're going through, so try to allow that you think some things--as much as you believe them with certainty--that might be off, that you will look back on later and see how they were off.

For instance, I have no hope that this will ever change for me. I don't think I have any place in this world. I think my only chance is to die. Take my chances somewhere else, even if that means nothingness. Because at least this will be over. I have nothing to live for. No one should want anyone to go through what I am going through. Remaining alive is predicated on one thing: change. But I cannot see this changing, save to keep getting worse. And I know the world in a way that no one else does. I know people in a way that no one else does. I know humanity in a way that no one else ever has. That is ultimately the essence of what I do and my genius. So many other things go into that, and go into expressing that, but that's what everything most fundamentally returns to. So I'd have to be wrong in a unique way. About this one thing. The thing I am most certain about is that I write better than anyone has ever done anything else. And not by a little bit, and not merely by a lot. That I know more than water is wet. But the thing I think I know the second most is what I've just said. So what would be a big thing to be wrong about. Some people tell me I am, but I think about what they'll think when I'm dead. They'll think, "he was exactly right, well, he's in a better place now, I hope," and they won't give me much more of a thought ever again, because of their guilt with how they behaved towards me, which they'd never try and deal with, because that's not who they are, they're not people of purpose and self-reflection and courage, their guilt that their predictions and promises didn't come close to coming true, and because I'm not some basic person who was just whatever, which is mostly all anyone wants. And if you are that, they'll treat you better. They want so tepidly. They want something to just "be there" rather than actually be something.

Hope I'm wrong. I should go run some stairs.

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