I find it odd, these days, that I find such comfort in solitude and wine. I dislike solitude and I have been told to dislike the wine, but here we are.

To experience simultaneously the feeling of disconnection from oneself and complete immersion within it. To feel such a covenant with humanity while being no part of it. It is a strange, yet glorious, contradiction.

I sometimes find myself thinking about a bizarre thing a woman I once met said, where she claimed I was a "young soul". I am not sure if this is meant to be an insult or a grotesque commentary on my passion for my work. Still, it makes me wonder, "what does that mean?" Maybe I was just young then and old now. I can't be sure.

As I grow older, I notice myself less interested in conflict and the world outside of my own skull. Mostly, I just want it to leave me alone. I want it to stop building the cages and trappings of rules, restrictions, and reductive culture. I just want to be allowed to comfortably become my truest self and indulge in the things which make me feel as such.

While I do like my time in the company of humans, I too easily find myself feeling uncomfortable. It is as though I am supposed to do something, but I can't determine what. This stress which associates such a feeling of failure is unsettling. I guess I never learned the ways of "comfortable silences".

I see the conflicts around me wrought of such simple-minded notions of identity and the barely-sentient notion of tribalism. I understand why these ideas exist. I just don't understand why anyone strives for anything other than transcending them.

While I miss the world of technical conversation and fascinating words shared with those who share my profession, I know that our culture no longer works that way. Hence, I must find that intrigue in the basic worlds I can create.

It gets strange when, without an origin by which to orient, one cannot determine if they are more genius or moron. I am not sure it matters since I don't think I was going to change anything in response.

I guess I must continue to find ways to amuse myself, so long as this body still functions. A version of me in the future finds disappointment with my actions, but I am sure that he will understand when I meet him.

The bottle calls,
...Nights