The days pass lazy like an eye, and it is always easy to find tasks to fill them that do not require you to remember them.
It’s commonly held that there is no long-term reward in working for others- the real fulfillment is only cultivated through self-employment, self-reliance, the confident highs extracted from the knowledge of one’s own independence.
Of course, self-employment of the conventional variety suffers from the same deficiencies of wage slavery in that it is still a clever passing of time from cradle to grave, delivering a healthy dearth of reasons for carrying on in a culture that still, at least loosely, is based on the myth of progress. Forward motion without goals, without a proper ideology, presents dilemmas to the mind unburdened by sufficient distraction. One successful method for dealing with the outside world of varied ultimate disappointments is to become a hermetic man. Find self-employment in the mind, become a curator of your own private museum of a constant horror.
This method is not uncommon- it is the basis of delusions great and small. When the boundaries perceived do not budge, ignore the fact that you ever perceived anything beyond those frontiers and suppress the moment that you did so. The moment of perfect horror, the moment when you failed to achieve the escape velocity required to lift you from the morass of your life (perceived within the shared and first delusion, progress), that is the moment that will define the curio existence of the hermetic man, that will be the theme of the plan defining the cyclical boundary of the track his life is running on.
The gift of purpose! Even if delusion, what satisfaction one can bring to oneself closing doors and operating on an abbreviated operating system. Authority (the suppression of the knowledge of the lack of omniscience, the invitation to others to populate and cohabitate within the lonely mind), Righteousness (The security guard of the mental Mütter Museum), Ambition (the gift of the whole endeavor and the force assuring the museum stays in operation)- just some of the derivatives of this cottage curio industry’s artifice.
On these small stages within these sealed humans all great social action takes place, producing a rich vein of ore for some alien observer to comment on and categorize.
I, for one, fucking love a good cup of coffee in the morning.