uhlersoth

So, it's official: I've finally come out of the closet.

As an asexual.

I wish that I could say that I'm happy with this revelation, but it has only left me feeling even more isolated. The prospect of never having a relationship or a family is disheartening enough, but the thought of dying alone - forgotten - is almost unbearable. Could this really be my ultimate reward for enduring the hell that my own brain has subjected me to all these years? For endlessly fighting a losing battle against mental illness?

Well. I always have the option of cutting it short. A rather strange and grim comfort, I suppose, but It's all I have for the time being.

I dreamt of Nietzsche.

"Man can only find purpose in deconstruction," I told him with resolute conviction.

I am not sure how to interpret this dream. It's not very clear what I meant by 'deconstruction', and in spite of my frequently bleak outlook on the world, I don't consider myself a true Nihilist. As well as I know myself, I can't discern whether this dream reflects the state of my psyche, or is just part of another wacky subconscious montage.

But regardless. Dreams featuring famous philosophers are pure awesomeness. 

As all things have a beginning, so shall this entry be devoted solely to the first post.