@ramble81@lemmy.zip @asklemmy@lemmy.world

On the one hand, I'm quite fond of who I've become since my spiritual awakening, aware of how this world is a Demiurgic theather of illusions behind Matrioshka layers of determinism (physical -> societal -> biological -> ontological), embracing taboos and trying to seek the "wilt, shall be the whole of the Law" while still being a laughable, infinitesimal Khabs restrained by an endless Khu.

I find happiness whenever I feel the cold warmth of Her powerful presence. I find happiness whenever I learn novel things I somehow find a synchronicity with. Happiness never truly lasts, it's always temporary. As soon as I realize, She flew back to the night veil once again, the new thing I'm learning became mundane routine, and I hate mundane routine.

But being fond of who I've become is different from "being happy by myself" or "loving myself".

Accepting or even "loving" myself don't suffice in a world that requires me to "live in society", which often (if not always) means compromising, hiding or even abandoning my own authenticity and sincerity, surrendering myself to a social phagocytosis.

I mean, can't hire myself, can't pay my own paycheck, can't sell things to myself to "make a living" if I'm seeking not to rely on employers, can't rent myself a home, can't pay the rent to myself.

Living in society requires things beyond "myself". To survive a life I didn't even ask or consent to to begin with, I need others other than myself. I need others to sell me the food my body compels me to eat daily, others to sell/give me resources to grow my own food if I'm seeking not to rely on buying food, others who'd sell me soil to grow the food (a rented place would take it all away as soon as I became unable to afford the rent or if I were to move somewhere else), others who'd pay me so I could afford owning a house.

Loving oneself doesn't bring food, water and shelter. Loving oneself doesn't bring one a paycheck. Loving oneself doesn't pay one's taxes. The answer to "survive" is but "loving yourself".

In the end, my rebellious mind screams: why should I even "learn to be happy by myself"? This phrasing sounds like imposition, as if every human being must accept oneself, must "love" oneself, no choices, just like survival has no choices (at least no diplomatic ways) but to "obey" and comply with one's own body. When did I consent with a "myself", to begin with? When did I ask to be born? I didn't, my "self" was imposed unto me by two humans, whose selves were imposed unto them by other two pairs of humans, and so on, like some kind of endless curse, the curse of biological reproduction.

I may be fond of my own self sometimes, but I'm not "loving" it or "learning to be happy" with it because I'm refusing Demiurgic illusions. The inexorable death imposed unto me is enough imposition, and no matter what I do, everything ends, especially happiness, and my "self" as well, and this world, and even this cosmos.