One Complex Jargon within my head

I wrote this about a year ago, when anxiety was at its peak and I was much more inclined toward understanding my mind. This whole piece was written as a raw account of what I felt back then. These experiences are short-lived, and I can no longer fathom them. I am just living in the "now." Continue reading—

Somewhere through evolution, our mind went against us.

Though it's a useful tool, it creates conflict that we fight through the day.

Most of us say that we want "peace of mind," but rather it should be "peace from mind." — Naval

With lifelong anxiety, I go through jargon almost every living moment. That comes with the responsibilities of the self. When you are exposed to certain things, you can see behind the façade of everyday life being easy.

If I wake up late, I am most likely to fall apart until I am sitting down for the actual work scheduled. It's not even that I don't like feeling like this. But I am aware that it's so hard to continue living like this.

Then comes the work. As the world is constantly seeking your attention, you can hardly be laser-focused. Thanks to the book Deep Work, I am a disciple of depth in the world of shallowness. I can't lose my focus. It's not possible, and anyone asking for it shall not interrupt it because, at the end of the day, I have to speak up for myself for why I fell into gaps I wasn't supposed to.

That includes everything from engaging in an online conversation to getting assigned a task by anybody who had nothing to do with my schedule.

When taking a shower, the never-ending anxiety kicks in, and it becomes hard to breathe. I wish for someone to pierce a bullet through the left side of my chest at that very moment.

I have escaped the world of the status quo. It's not a game that I play anymore. While the rest of the world is floating in the wave of shallowness, I try to redirect my attention toward something that is as absolute as my existence.

I am culpable of hubris. And the fact that it feels arrogant to write all this stuff, and also if someone reads it, feels like I am playing the victim when I am not.

It's hard for anyone to understand me at this stage of mine—the Alchemist stage of Ego Development Theory. And just because I am relatively more aware of things doesn't mean I get everything right. I am not aloof from human consequences; otherwise, I would already transcend them.

I don't talk too much. And the day I do, I am left alone with the shadow of narcissism. I again have to stand in custody and speak up for what I did.

I am zero, but more than that, I am malleable. My perceptions change upon discovery. I don't have anything to fight for. Almost like a fluid, adapting to its native environment.

Sure, awareness leads to unhappiness and misery. But being unaware and talking before thinking makes you open to threats. I used to think highly of people's potential until I realized that diversity is important within the human race.

The greatest proof of intelligence is that you get what you want out of life.

Flow state has been single-handedly the anxiety killer.

The presence of a loved one surely is another, but it's hardly experienced.

It surely was fun, going through day to day without any subtle realization of what was going on. No awareness of wasting time, no awareness of whether I am talking too much, no awareness of sleeping too long. A fairy-tale life all of us want.

The environment plays a great role in this fairy-tale life. If your mother has always piggybacked you, you rarely know how hard it is to work miles after miles.

That's why, when I say I don't dislike this complexity, I really feel it to be the truest thing to my core. The complexity pulls a meaning from my essence that I was here to do and not just see.

I see my reflection within Steve Jobs, Richard Feynman, David Deutsch, and Naval Ravikant, and there is not a single thing I could point out as bad.

Complexity, to me, is like a necessary evil, though that's not the best phrase to define it. But complexity actually proves my essence; nothing else does.

That's why I can take hold every time again when I wish my chest to be pierced by a bullet. It's not going to happen, and I am not dying any time soon.

Another reason why it's a complex jargon is that it feels arrogant to even share this with anyone. Why would they be bothered with whatever victim I am playing? Actually, that's correct. I am an isolated kid rather than an expressive extrovert.