I once had the market cornered on “dark introversion.”
I was positive of it. I reveled in the notoriety.
Dark introversion was me, but furthermore, I was Dark Introversion. I embodied Dark Introversion, and then fucking Elliot Alderson cock-blocked me from realizing my ultimate anti-social potential.
I was the Dark Introvert.
Fuck you, Elliot.
Elliot is everything required of a dark introvert.
I have become quite the scholar of introversion.
For most of my life, I refuted my introversion and sought to live the extroverted life by chemically-enabled boldness; brash effusive sociability that was never truly me. I lived a phony life; a “trans-extrovert.” I never learned to be honest or genuine. As I absorbed and accepted my Introversion role over time, I examined what it entailed, and not only did I come to accept it, I came to note the many barely visible idiosyncrasies and malign tendrils that introversion denotes.
Along this early path of discovery I assumed that there were two types of introversion: the light and the dark. I assumed I was the dark, but worse, I assumed I had always been the dark. I believed my “dark transformation” was a revelation. I thought the binary assemblage of introversion denoted the Light and Dark, but I’ve come realize this is not so.
It is not quite the fixed nomenclature that defines introversion as we know it.
I am the “dark introvert.”
The dark introvert is egotistical, vain, arrogant, misanthropic, delicately sociopathic, but above all, insulated. I belong to several introvert forums and groups, and after reading the contributions of various members, I have discovered introverts come in all flavors and designs, and that the antagonist school of introversion is something I would call the “Light.”
These Light Introverts can likewise be vain and arrogant, maybe even misanthropic. However, the Light Introvert is not fully encased in his own existence.
The Light Introvert seeks a trace of approval from the external world. The Light Introvert entertains a diminishing sense of optimism and beholds flowery petals of hope. A Light Introvert continues to battle against the elemental introversion that restrains such a soul. Whereas the Dark Introvert embraces the night and gloom while rejecting all acceptance.
For the longest time I was convinced it was an either/or dynamic and I sought no more clarification because I was ignorant and lazy.
Perhaps it was Elliot Alderson who convinced me otherwise. Those are mighty weighty credentials for a measly television show. Maybe I’ve given “Mr. Robot” too much credit for its own good, but the change in my perspective has dawned in the last few months.
In the realm of introversion, it is not either/or. Rather, it is an evolutionary continuum. Light eventually blends to dark, given enough time.
Problem is, there is rarely enough time for most mortal humans to process their own evolution. I am not a mere mortal so I surpassed the base mark. I have extraordinary powers of observation (as Pink Floyd once told us).
Introversion is a fluid unveiling, a growth of our psyche which we eventually experience assuming we introverts live forever. But we don’t. So many of us are stillborn at the earliest stage of introversion, and thus, the witnesses, our family and friends, also only glimpse the partial development of the introvert. Rarely is the fruition of the introvert so pronounced and visible, from beginning to end, in such a publicly visible manner as with Elliot Alderson.
The Dark Introvert is the “highest” (or most extreme) order of introversion. In Karmic or Miltonian levels, absolute Dark Introversion might equate to the “inner layers” of introversion, the dark fiery revulsion of personal debility and depravity.
Introversion is an evolution. Very few of us attain Darkness in our life; most wallow languidly in the early circles of Light Introversion.
As I noted in an earlier post, I believe Barack Obama is a Dark Introvert, and for this, I commiserate with him, but also, I fear for our country.
I would not want a Dark Introvert spelling out my destiny.
It’s bad enough that I spell out my own.