This is another attempt at writing about university, misanthropy, and normalfaggotry. My older article was hot garbage, but I'm still keeping it up. Consider this the new and improved rant. I've never really written something in this style, and I'm trying my best to balance readability with "colorful" vocabulary and descriptions as opposed to simply writing stream-of-consciousness style. I don't know if it'll work or not though... please give me feedback on this. There was a time not too long ago, when I was a young teenager inebriated by adolescent delusions of grandeur. Chuunibyou, as it's called. I thought myself to be some stoic figure undeterred by the norms and traditions of the pissant society that surrounded me. Looking back now as I knock on 20's door, at that fedora-clad young man, who disregarded academia in pursuit of what he loved, i.e. linguistics, history, and the other trivialities I brood over on this HTML monument of mine, I see a mutinous neckbeard without any sense of taste or decency. As I evolved from a shy, reserved little rugrat, engulfed in the ennui of the middle class and languidly spending afternoons after school either surfing the Web like a man perusing an antique shop for tchotchkes, or emulating DOS games, to a hormonal teenager whose main hobby is masturbating, both the intellectual and the visceral kinds... certain things never changed, set in stone as these perennial Blauheim-isms, entwined with my existence as much as my person is. The main rationale for me barking on about my childhood is because one of those aforementioned perennial Blauheim-isms is my asocial and schizoid nature. It manifested differently over time, however. This younger Blauheim was generally content with sitting inside all day playing video games, without a tendency to philosophize this grand wall I built to hide myself. This older, adolescent Blauheim, to the contrary, thinks himself as Dhul Qarnayn, building this grand, lofty barrier to protect himself from Gog and Magog, or in my case, the vulgar normalfag masses. He fashioned this grand worldview solely based on this visceral disgust at speaking to NORPs and having to involve himself in this mercantile interplay that is social interaction. He fashions this mansion he chose to put himself in out of pebbles, clay, straw and wire. I say "schizoid" particularly because I not only had that avoidant tendency, but also amused myself in flights of imagination and fantasy in lieu of living, of being animated, and human, and vivacious. This is especially true as I begin to sleep; as I knock on the door of that house of dreams, I close my eyes and imagine myself elsewhere. This isn't to say this is the only time I really recline into fantasy; I remember walking around my school during recess in a state of disintegration. I wandered without consciousness of the school grounds that surrounded me, totally enraptured in those fleeting thoughts in the mind of that youngun. I jot all of this down in order to provide you with the proper context for my disregard for proper social interaction. In the vast majority of cases, discussing anything with people in the flesh-world exhausts me. Principally, this is simply a consequence of the fact I do not share in their passion. What animates me and excites me is in uncompromising contradiction with theirs. That is to say: how can you speak to someone you share no commonality with? But, as luck would have it, I was born at the optimal minute to experience the epoch of the Internet. In that grand mere of information, I was able to fashion some sense of camaraderie with other people who I felt truly content speaking to. In that old inn, where utterances are casted instantaneously, we were given that potential to spark a metaphorical cigarette, share in our own eccentricities and drivel passionately on about whatever topic our minds fixate on at whatever moment, in that most optimal state of harmony. My interests in retro-gaming and linguistics were some I maintained since I was a young child. It would only be natural that my peers eschewed those matters. It may be inferred that I think myself to be in some way superior, but this is far from the case. However, I must admit with profound embarrassment and disappointment, that my younger self would've had that simultaneously persecutory and self-congratulatory delusion. In his mind, he is both an erudite with vast intellect and an oppressed loner stoically standing in his lonesome, as still as an effigy against the fickle crowd of indecent, tasteless philistines, entertained by bread and circuses. Ironically, in this regard, 2020 was one of the best years of my life. After years of apathetic truancy and shunning my academic career, as the East Infection had the world over boarding up their houses in fear, I returned to high school. When I was 16, I more or less jettisoned my misanthropic worldview. This isn't to say I became "part of society". I shunned social interaction just as I ever have. However, I no longer was tied to those trifling, snobbish delusions of superiority. I no longer thought myself to be some Übermensch simply because I spent my day inside playing video games and amusing myself with whatever triviality my mind attaches to. I decimated that ivory tower I secluded myself in, wherefrom I regarded those I saw as unwashed barbarians, wrathfully staring down at them as I intoxicate myself in some insipid adolescent delusion. This complete metamorphosis was perhaps the greatest milestone in my 19 years of life. When I began studying in university when I was 17, I truly grasped the reach of my personal distaste for that old game of give-and-take that is social interaction. The full extent of its profoundness only truly entered my mind's glare when I entered university. Only then did social interaction go from being inconvenient and uncomfortable to being odious. Again, I really do not harbor any actual hatred in my heart, despite the fact I loathe speaking to my peers. Their behavior was to me repulsive. Be it leaving their trash around for others to clean up, or vaping in the middle of class, or blasting loud music as they sit together, or their seemingly complete apathy towards everything... it has grown to be an exercise in sheer patience not to look down on them. There are those who are decent people, who come to class and study, who really are just regular people. I salute them, frankly. And thus, after all this rumination and beating around the bush, I reach the heart of the matter: misanthropy as a worldview is completely illogical. How is it that with the tapestry of human civilization, that grand fabric of culture, belief, and morality, we have enough shared to cast some grand statement condemning us all? Or, in the least, the majority of us? And therein lies the heart of the matter: normalfags may be annoying, or uncomfortable to talk to, but philosophizing it is stupid. Is it not enough that they're not fun to talk to or are annoying? Do they need to be literally evil too? Thank you for reading. El Psy Kongroo.
Here's something fun: Jesper Kyd's Genesis music.