Burning the Bridges of Life -- My Honest Thoughts
Updated: 11 hours ago
Solitude and Self-Sufficiency
I have not known much love in life beyond the love of a few friends and family members. Pets have loved me more than any other human being in this world, probably..
Don't get me wrong, I am not an incel. I just enjoy working and am not a social being. I experience noise as auditory r***, so I don't go out much. Humans care not if they r*** my ears, so I am occasionally tempted by misanthropy.
Even those I wanted to love never loved me back, and there was some who loved me, it never beared fruit. "The time will come", they said. "You have your whole life before you." Some people have wondered why, despite the fact that I am an attractive man, I've never been in a relationship. There are several reasons as to why attractive people specifically are single. I've been single and alone from the day I was born. The only people outside of family that keep me company for years are my readers and apprentices. The lack of a woman's touch had made me skin depraved, but also mentally resilient and self-reliant.
In the Name of Intellectual Excellence
However, for some reason, burning life's opportunities in front of me feels very, very rewarding. I find it rewarding when I do so with entitled and ungrateful people. As an entrepenur it helps me better focus on my goals and eliminate distractions. It appears illogical to just give up on any chance for romance, but for some reason, I enjoy burning it down; to ruin any kind of opportunity for being loved by someone other than family and my cat.
I guess I have no desire for relationship drama, so I wish to eliminate it from its very root. I am unaware if there are relationships without drama, and I have no desire to gamble away my mental health to find out. I need to be in good mental shape to manage Philosocom, and being an entrepreneur affects mental health as well as other areas of life.
This phenomenon, where I want to burn bridges with specific people has been happening since high school, when I declared abstinence, in the name of becoming not only more independent, but more solitary. I've been a monk from 2014 to 2022. That period met its end when I decided I can at least try and prepare to suffer. During my monastic years, I had visions of transcending the human social nature, to become a person who has not that kind of nature, but an "isolating" nature. A nature that is purely a-social. This isn't to be confused with anti-sociality.
Back then, I had a different vision for the years I'm currently living. I wanted to go to work and speak only when necessary, and return to my apartment, and do so until I die. I wanted to be more than human -- I wanted to seize the potential of asceticism and become far stronger mentally, even if it means sacrificing whatever is necessary for that ambition.
Is it a form of masochism, to ruin my future, to ruin my diversity of people? To an extent, I have already given up on life. Very little is going to change on here on out, or so I am extremely inclined to believe. The "full life" means very little to me as I find it hollow.
And for some reason, when I think about it, I can't help but feel pleasure. I "hear" laughter in my thoughts; a laugh of an inner villain, laughing at my attempts to burn bridges and minimize my life, until this very apartment and this very site will stay, with only little other things.
What else do I have to live for?
For some reason, I considered it victory, to give up on love. Why? Because then, no one will be able to truly conquer me. Conquer my attention through distraction; to treat me like a pile of dirt beneath one's boots. I have no time or energy for petty, disrespectful disputes. I consider it victory, to lock myself in an apartment I call a hermitage, as I only get out of the house for common arrangements and nothing else.
I feel as if it is a part of my vengeance, against the one who called me irrelevant; because when I'm not irrelevant romantically, I can focus on being relevant globally. Not as a friend or lover, but as a growing philosopher.
People have already told me that I am missing out on life since I was a child, before I was diagnosed with autism. I think they are projecting their own fears of missing out I was told to leave the gaming console and go play outside; that others know better than me, what is good for me, in this life; that having a social life is important for one's success. Now I understand, it doesn't really matter.
In fact, it never was really matter, because in the end, I lack the social skills, to be appreciated beyond the feature of writing. If it weren't for writing, I would've been but an irrelevant failure; a waste of space who wasted the Earth's air. It is through work that I am liberated from the confines of my social incompetence. Thus, work sets some of us free, unironically. Free from the shackles of worthlessness, of being a klumnik.
All I have now, is to watch my deniers' understand that, even someone as incompetent as I, can be of worth to this world, and not someone to be left alone due to their weirdness.
Yes, I have little to no friends, even though some may consider themselves my friends. The few I'm friends with do not often communicate with me and vice versa. We're busy with our own lives, especially work. I don't know if I ever be kissed nor hugged again by someone who isn't original family; I might definitely never get a degree or work beyond Philosocom, as the former is too stressful, and the latter too exhausting.
All I have now, to rise as a figure worth spending time on, is philosophizing. It is my only key to relevance, only way to be of importance in this world. Take that away from me, and I might consider finishing it all off. Even now, when I'm having these thoughts, I can't help but smile inside; small at my supposed victory over my solitary life, where the only notable success is in this very writing.
For some, such a life as mine, a life of a hikikomori, is a regrettable, pathetic existence; but for me, burning life's bridges is but focusing on something very, very specific, in hopes to excel, if not master it. I enjoy this solitude because it allows me to hone my craft as an article writer.
To discard things away, even if they are seen as important features, are but a way for one to say, "I don't need them and their control over my life". To give up on being loved, even if it makes one feel rightfully loveless and alienated, simply meant for me that there will be far less energy "wasted" on being dependent on others. I am not fond of unnecessary dependance.
In the end, all of these sacrifices are but narrowing oneself down into a potential success, in order to make that success even greater than otherwise. There's a connection between solitude and success. Of course, people who are married, have kids, lead social lives and so on -- of course they can be just as successful.
However, for someone who isn't as successful in these areas, one can ponder -- why trying, if the chances of success do not appear as high, as the past has presented? Finding love becomes more difficult as you get older.
People seem to love philosophers, but when you use primarily public transportation, have no degrees and live on welfare, these are the things people make themselves look down on you -- and consider you... too irrelevant to be around with anymore.
Turning Into a Hermit Philosopher in Name of Revenge and Success
Do you see now, why I don't care to be loved anymore? I no longer care for being loveless when I can be relevant, just like with degrees and philosophy: both have a connection, but that connection isn't necessary. I guess that as long as I contribute I can just settle with that for as long as possible.
Even if I won't be loved again by a woman, I will at least try to do something far greater, and that lifelong vision, is worth any moment spent in isolation from the world, every alienating sentence said to me by people I once loved; Every time people condescend to you because you're a social dysfunction.
To prove to others, that I am indeed happy within my hermitage, even if I want to die alone; to prove to them that I live life well without socializing; to show the whole world, including her, that one can be relevant enough with the mere power of the written word...
The teachers, the trolls, the former love interests -- their ultimate disillusionment, will be my victory; a victory so grand, it is worth sacrificing much of life's features to go down the drain. Revenge is rewarding, and the best revenge is a massive success.
What is this victory? It is simply a product of showing them, that they were wrong about who they thought I was. They made Tom. I killed Tom and became Tomasio. And with this victory of knowledge, I will make this world benefit from my insights even more. It is all the reason I still live for -- to contribute.
That idea has eventually made me decide that killing myself currently is just too early. Hopefully I will not have to reconsider.
But yes, in the end, all I am losing right now is the colorfulness of my life. A so-called "lesser" being will give up on all of this extreme isolation. But for me, it is the effective path in life; one that is supposed to bring greater success through greater productivity.
No friend will ask me to come over; no job will demand that I arrive on time; beyond rejuvenation and survival, I am all for this gig called Philosocom.