I looked up to the stereotype of the egotistical, frantic, but caring guy that produced great work. So, I created in myself a similar character out of want/need/desire. What I am beginning to realise is that I miss the entire point of worth, great work, etc. as the physical process and living that is always a lifetime commitment, to instead be this character out of the delusional belief that this character is what makes me great/worthy/valuable etc. The physical consequence of this is I make more mistakes, give myself more temptation to feel like a failure, and further lose myself in the delusion that the Mind as thoughts/emotions/feelings play perfectly.
Also, because of this character, I stopped writing periodically, for various excuses; I became angry and therefore missed the opportunity to really walk with myself and sit with myself to write for a moment. Time is not as benevolent as is portrayed in seconds, minutes, and hours; I have seen myself fear failure the most when I think about time in these terms. And no matter how I think of time, I still live it the exact same way = one breath at a time, each breath one and equal to the next otherwise I would have died already.
As a child, being quieter than most I already thought of myself as passive and somewhat duller than most kids. So I was obsessed with the idea of the crazy but great artist because I saw this idea as a path to brighten up parts of me that I worried were dull compared to others.
To be continued…