A series of assumptions, just for fun (complete)

This is going to be more or less stream of consciousness.
F5 if you dare.
F5 if you remember what that is in context.

Save.

I live with my parents because I’m bipolar and can’t take care of myself.
I live with my parents because I can take care of myself but we all love living together and they’re generously providing me financial support, for which I’m humbly grateful.
I live with my parents because when my mental health changes, they want to be close to me as they worry.
As much as I love being independent and have taken care of myself in the past, being close to them is a good thing, especially if I become escalated or lose touch, depending on where I am in the cycle.

I live with my parents because they’re wonderful about privacy and space. I don’t have any problem with them at all being in my spaces when I’m not here, yet they still don’t intrude unless necessary.
I live with my parents because mum now finally lets me iron my own clothes and has promised that she never will iron anything of mine again after my assertion that she shouldn’t. I regret her ever having to iron them ever. They’re my clothes, it’s my job, and I’m happy to do it.
I live with my parents so I can help them out not only with shared activities like cleaning, washing dishes etc., but because as they age, certain things become a little more difficult, and I’m glad to be here to help them with those things. Naturally it means we get to spend time together and I love that.

Save, because the next bit is important. Well. It’s all important.

I tend to go and visit my friends wherever they are, meet in the city, engage in activities scattered about the city etc. We live out in the suburbs and while they’re not the outer suburbs, they’re far enough for me to call far. It’s a lovely house, if I’m respectful in how I use the space and coordinate with my parents, I can have guests here and my parents love meeting them, however it’s more of a consideration of travel time for them.

‘You couldn’t bring anyone home.’ and you know what’s implied by that.
Indeed.
I couldn’t.
Well, I could, but I don’t think I’d want to.
Because that’s not where I’m at and I won’t ever be there again.
Because if it’s just a fuck, we can fuck anywhere and that’s fine.
But if it’s my house, my home, then my family is a part of that and I am a part of my family.
I don’t want to spend an extended amount of time with anyone who won’t embrace my family and that’s how it is.
Which leads to the first stated assumption, that I’m reaffirming the position I took over two years ago, that I’m not interested in joining with anyone.

Save.

I’m beginning to learn some very important things about myself, about how I love, about how I perceive love, practice it, become swept up in it, control it, lose control of it etcetera.
I’m beginning to seriously consider some of the precepts I had laid down in my youth concerning lovers/partners/long term partnership.
I cannot distinguish whether the hunger was natural or whether I built it, under the influence of the usual mundane things.
Now I consider precisely what it is I feel, how I go about relationships, how they come about – how I behave and what I think as they are determined.
I fall in love – very much – with everyone.
I love – in some way – everyone.
When it comes to preference and exclusivity, classical monogamy (and I’m not at all being derogatory), I tend to go along with it. That is to say, I don’t seek to contrive events, guide or shape determination via behaviour, in order to drive towards monogamy. When the opportunity is fielded, I agree/acquiesce/decide to try it out.
That may or may not mean I withhold.
I don’t think that I do but I can’t say that I unequivocally don’t.
That may be part of my problem with long term relationships but in no way am I accepting complete liability (and you should know that’s not what I mean, and that I never would).

Save.

I am observing a pattern in my behaviour that becomes stronger and more established each time it’s engaged or allowed to cycle:

– I strengthen my bond with Rok and spend more time with him.
– I re-establish my bonds with my family and spend more time with them.
– I begin engaging with strangers with increased frequency and ease.
– A segregated, small but firm sense of frustration and burnout at those with whom I’m less intimate is precipitated.
– I begin to establish a firm sense of individualism to a degree that naturally excludes others.
– I begin writing in earnest in private.
– I re-engage my creative language of translating emotion into abstract.
– I increase time and frequency playing the piano to do the same.

I’ll save there.

I should add:
– I engage overdrive in exercising cultural criticism, as well as introspective criticism and examination of physical and non-physical (philosophical/cultural/behavioural) mechanics.

Many of these activities correlate with entering into, being in and exiting an elevated bipolar state.

There are several paradoxes at play:
– I strive to meet new people, more and more, to know them, to consume them. I am infinitely curious about everything they think and have to say.
While simultaneously
– Grow frustrated by the perceived slowness and hesitance of people, that they don’t consume me with the same starvation and hunger, that they don’t have the same addiction to information and intimacy that I have and that they seem to accept a level of engagement with life that I deem to be beneath them (another blatant assumption or three).

– I dive head-first and swim fast into new fields of art and engagement and I strive to share them with people, with anyone, with anyone who will listen or who may make the mistake of showing even the slightest bit of interest. I want to show people how good a thing can be and how capable they are of parsing it and I want them to be as passionate about the things they consume and understand and that they derive meaning from.
While simultaneously
– Realise how hesitant people are with sharing and how lazy they are in their thinking and that the things that truly mean something to me, anything worth anything at all, will be rejected for the most cursory and cosmetic reasons, driving me to isolate and fortify those pieces that to me would be most powerful in revelation.

The assumption there is that everything that is meaningful to me would be meaningful to others, and that is an assumption I’m happy to make, but it’s not entirely accurate. I’ve banged on about it before so I should just cover it in brief. It’s not the actual subject that’s important, it’s the meaning that’s inspired by it, the processes and ideas that are brought forth by it – the passion in discussion and progression of philosophy, reflection, examination and experimentation that is precipitated by it. The article itself barely matters.

I’m discouraged that more people don’t understand it. I’m discouraged that even among those that do, they rarely practice it.

My next assumption is that too many people are lazy in their thinking and I don’t like it.

Save.

No, I’ve decided I’m done with this entry.