In All Sincerity

I criticized people for assuming I am like them… only to realize I tend to assume they are like me. It is something we do actually have in common.

I am an artist. I always was. Since childhood, I fancy things from an artistic perspective. I drew pictures to express my strange insights. I now write books and compose music. I still draw pictures, but usually to illustrate the covers of my books.

Every sight, sound and feeling is with the idea of how it can all be shaped to optimize their various qualities. I cleanse my inspirations of their uninspiring aspects. I redesign the world to my preferences, and turn it all into stories.

Other people see and hear what suits them, for better or worse.

My idea of perfection is not idealism. Problems are not a problem if they are interesting. My art and fiction are not wishful thinking. They are matters of interest turned into toys of the mind.

Other people expect a perfection they do not expect of themselves. They judge hypocritically. They make excuses for useful idiots… so long as they are deemed useful.

I have perfect self-esteem. I am not proud… but I am not ashamed. I appreciate my strengths but acknowledge my weaknesses. I do not pretend to be someone I am not.

Other people lack self-esteem. Whether they are proud or humble, they are ashamed. They exaggerate their strengths and excuse their weaknesses. Their humility is virtue signaling. They pretend to be what they want to be or what they think others want them to be.

I am better than everyone else. I do forget this. I assume people are like me, and I like them accordingly. They are unlike me. They remind me with their flippant remarks, nasty actions and shameful inactions. I dislike them accordingly.

I admire myself. My admiration is not pride. I was tricked to be ashamed of myself only to admire what I did not know was referring to me. I judged myself unknowingly, and did not find myself wanting.

HE WHO JUDGES HIMSELF SHALL NOT BE JUDGED!

My sincerity availed me.