I have a messiah complex.
Every day, I wake up and I have to remind myself that I was not sent here, to this world, to save everyone.
I have ideas which I think everyone should adopt. I suffer from occassional delusions that I have gone through everything that I am living through. The scary part is that most of the times, whatever I predict, whatever I feel in my gut, turns out to be The Truth.
There is nothing supernatural about this. My mind works overtime, always in overdrive. Not because I am smart - and I am smart - but simply because I have a hyperactive mind. An active mind does not make it smart. Making connections no one has ever made before - like the relationship between mass and energy - that's smart.
Here's how my mind works. I see something, and I constantly create multiple scenarios on how this happened or where this will lead to. You can't imagine how many scenarios I go through in my head at every moment. Most of them are crap, filled with flying superheroes and energy beams. Some, I could have used, but is still learning to. I feel guilty for this, and is just learning how to take advantage of it.
And yes, I have been wrong before. That has never stopped me. It has never stopped anyone else.
I strive and work hard for some things I want. Some people call me unreasonable, but sometimes, being unreasonable is the only way that works for me.
For instance, I do not tolerate liars. I will, for a while, if I have to. But not for long. I do not tolerate the delusions of other people, because I am busy with my own delusions. That's a lie. Sometimes, I do tolerate other people's dementia, but not for long periods.
I am not a psychopath, but perhaps a high-level functioning reverse-sociopath. A few years back, I decided to embrace empathy, and that has gotten me into trouble.
I embraced empathy so I could become a better writer, but I find that paying attention to my audience takes the focus away from my work. It also has the stupid side effect of actually understanding how some people function. This knowledge is simply trash right now. A cancerous growth that nags me.
If I need to function as a writer better-equipped to come up with more empathic work, I need to further observe how God of Writing Neil Gaiman uses his empathy for stories without holding him back. Perhaps some disassociation is necessary.
Alan Moore - the Elder God of Writing - does not seem to have any natural empathy, but understands some things that are beyond the normal human comprehension. He is inhuman, in my book.
Oh well. I need to finish my work now. The deadline beckons.
