The puzzle.
I admit I censor myself.
No, not like that. I'm not talking about political discourse, sexual preferences, radicalized behavior. I'm talking about the defense mechanism, suppression.
I used to cry every day. And every day was hell, and this was so for decades. Don't get me wrong. Hell doesn't go away. It still is here and I live it every day.
No, you wouldn't get it. If you think that's edgy, then you're further from getting me.
What hurt the most wasn't hell however. It was seeing the heaven I couldn't reach.
No, I'm not talking about comparing myself to others. Not talking about rich people, happy people, successful people. Money and status means little to me.
I'm talking about ideatic space.
Some puzzles have titanic levels of requirements. Not just a good grasp of fields like philosophy, psychology, physics, chemistry, but also a solid infrastructure of your mind.
No, most of you don't have good infrastructure. I've read enough internet, talked to enough people. If you think I'm being blind because the internet does not represent the real world, you're further from understanding me.
I'll get to the point: There's a puzzle out there. I don't know if the puzzle represents humanity's purpose, or an optimal ideatic equation, or if it's a prelude to some higher level conflict I couldn't begin to understand. I just don't know. It's unfalsifiable.
But it's there. And to know that I can't contribute to it due to the scarcity of the universe, that I can't ever reach it, that my life is statistically doomed to be hell for a subjectively endless timeframe - it kills me.
So I void it. I cross it out. I see it in the corner of my eye, and I ignore it.
It hurts every time. Ethically, I know I shouldn't. In fact, I didn't. But after decades of confronting it face to face, I admit my humanity has become a crutch.
My anxiety threshold is minimal. My depression is abysmal. My melancholy is constant. And no one gets me.
Sure. I'm not the only one. I'm sure that with 8 billion people alive, and far more dead, many have seen the puzzle. But out of thousands that I've talked to, only 2 people I get the impression could understand what I meant.
One is a programmer who worked on one of the Age of Empire games. He sleeps 3 hours and eats 600kcal a day. We don't talk anymore.
The other is a jewish professor with adhd. Statistically, he is more than you or I will ever be, reader. We talk once every few months, for exactly one hour.
Both of them are above my level, as if their intellectual clocks worked on a different configuration. They walk on orthogonal paradigms.
But both of them don't get it like I do. They might understand the concept of it, but they don't see it the same way I do.
No, it's not schizophrenia, drugs, messiah complex, or imagination. I simply see it, metaphorically speaking.
Maybe it's because I'm the one who has to deal with the misery, and it truly makes you think differently at times if you have the right tools. Who knows. I can think of a thousand reasons.
...
That's it. That's the post. It's not venting. It's not a plea for help. I just felt like writing it down, and here it is.
What comes next is up to you.