I slept little. I had thoughts that took hold of my attention. What defines the essence of a individual. The very things that drive a person to do what they do.
The 2003, movie, Anger Management. Comes to my mind.
That scene of the first group therapy session when the question is poised to the main character, Dave.
Dave answers by his professional career title. The doctor stops him to try and get him to answer a direct question of self knowledge or identity apart from his career or personality.
Dave can’t answer it. So he gets pissed and it’s normal.
Some people don’t know who they are.
Some people are self defined by their sexuality. You know the whole bullshit about men who define their purpose by making money and banging females.
The dude’s that define themselves by making money and banging dudes openly or on the low.
The people that are defined by their job or self worth tied to income and job title.
I find the notions of these self indentifications weird. Why? It’s the way of the world. It is normal for people to define themselves by ethic race, sexuality and income.
I’m the weird one. I made up my own identity. Guardiandogg, the bard of the interwebs the sage of dark comedy.
I am not defined by a group identity. I am not defined by my chosen profession. I am defined in part by what I do, how I think and my personality. This is not a look at how fancy I am, comment. It’s a weird thing that happened sort thing.
I can’t understand entirely being defined in a group identity or needing to be locked in to a profession to have an identity of existing or self worth.
I ponder the knowing of self. I ponder group thought indentity. Why? It’s the way I am I ponder. I ponder and then I have to write. I have to analyze. I have to spin my thoughts in to poetic muses on the nature of thought and simulation of thought feed to a person who can’t think for himself. He is member of a group who just follows the group thoughts of others ahead of the line.
There are dangers to group thought and advantages.
The nature of being. Why is it even important to know who you are if life is simple about survival. Well the quickest and stupidist way to die or be caught in a shit storm would be to walk toward a cliff because the group leaders say, trust me my dude. I got your back. Your walking to Disneyland happy days.
Excuse my silly dark ramblings, I’m just musing on the world.