I want to be left alone, really. That’s what it’s all about.
My inner life has finally exerted itself on my external life. The ultimate synchronization of my emotional and interactive; I once could live as I experienced, but I suspect that is no longer an option.
I must manipulate experience in order to make it coalesce with my private frame.
I want to be left alone. Alone. I am the master of my path, the petitioner of my fate, and I seek no pardons or excuses. I am a weak man when coerced, a beast when left to my own devices.
All you glib circus barkers in ties and pearl necklaces can go to hell. You ain’t got my vote.
I support you, Donald Trump, for your ruckus, but you’re the same swagger in silk that makes me run like hell away from this stage of deceit.
For some of us, self-sufficiency is a dogma and a transcendent voice.
What we mean when we say we only chew what we can bite is that our expectations are humble and we certainly do not impose our dreams and fantasies on others. My private world is my dream world. That is where it must remain.
In recompense, I expect the same from others, including my government. But I live in a world where most do not share such sentiments, and in fact, seek help and holy intercession from the government, thus subverting my aims.
My striving is mocked and ignored and relegated to the gutter. Only those who beg are rewarded.
I’m not a beggar.
My calling is the easiest to excise from the totalitarian, consumerist state of the 21st Century.
If you leave me alone, the practice will be gladly mutual.