I have come to understand that my current state of existence is me experiencing a vision quest of sorts. I have grown increasingly isolated: one undertakes vision quests alone. I have become increasingly detached from things of this world. I am seeking my raison d’être. I keep tearing aspects of self down, then building anew, then tearing down, then building anew, and every time the tearing down goes deeper and the building up goes higher. I don’t need to be under a drug’s influence to feel the euphoric highs when I have an epiphany, and the crushing lows when I am unearthing old wounds and limiting beliefs, swimming in the mire of wretchedness: that’s just been my life, as of late. I have the distinct sense that when I finally emerge, I will be better equipped to serve the world.
And it’s hard as hell.
I better be a fucking amazing Druid after this. And I better have my home. This tree-hugger needs to put down roots next to some tree friends. You hear me, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? Fuck you. I kill you. I kill you two times.
Yes, I am threatening the well-being of psychological concepts. Because that’s how I roll.
To the nemeton!