I'm not a conformist, and I don't plan on becoming one

Aka I’m not a conformist, and I don’t plan on becoming one, so don’t give me advice and we’ll both be happier, your world-view unpulverized, and mine unpolluted.

Disclaimer: This is a personal rant to the bones. If you ever hold anything in this against me then you’re being a massive fucking idiot and you can just go fuck yourself already.

Obviously that was a hyperbolic title, but the gist remains. The truth is, I’m not a cultural fit anywhere, at least if I’m expected to conform to whatever rules your society decided to come up with and never tell anybody out loud about.

I’m also by no means a thick brick. I do notice things. I can read a room. I can read a person. I can read your silent rules. I just choose not to conform by default, and conform by choice instead of the other way around.

For me culture died with god. Life thrives on diversity. for the sake of being more clear in what I mean I’ll define thriving as the property of staying alive. So when I say “something thrives on something else”, I mean “something stays alive longer through something else”. Nothing more, nothing less. By this definition life has been thriving as fuck. The earliest direct evidence is from 3.465 billion years ago. To put that into scale, Earth is (maybe) 4.54 billion years old and the universe 13.772 billion. So life has been thriving for more than 3 quarters of our planet’s existence. Which is pretty decent. Individual species on the other hand aren’t as thrivy. With the exception of Cyanobacteria, no species has managed to surpass the 1 billion year.

So you see, for me culture died with god. And that’s good. I’m different. I’m life trying to thrive, experimenting with different things. Sometimes the experiments fail badly (this 98% depends on your scale (sorry mama) and 100% on your ability to squint your eyes). On the bigger scale of things that’s alright. Some of us are bound to burn. To disappear. To die underachieving. To die problematic. To die noninstitutionalized. To die hated. To die not belonging. That’s fucking alright. We ain’t all acceptance seeking zombies. Talents decide they wanna do something else, and otherwise smart-ish people decide to do seemingly mundane things.

People think I’m schizophrenic, cause I can highly critique and praise something in one go. That’s not what schizophrenia is. I’m not ruling out the diagnosis, but it would’ve been for the wrong reasons. Check out Gettier Problem Wikipedia page to get a sense of what I mean. Back to the point. People perceive my ability to display appreciation and appalment for something at the same time as a negative, on the premise that they can’t pin point exactly how I feel about it. It confuses them. Which is fine. But I ain’t gonna change that. It took me years to stop myself from deleting the flaws of the things I like. It took me years to learn to appreciate the flawed and imperfect. Why should I change cause it confuses you? I’ve reached a clarity that I’d only like to improve on. I’m not gonna change that because you’re insecure.