I had a small mental breakdown, tonight, and it wasn't pretty. I thank both Brandon and Rebekah for talking with me long enough to work through a bunch of my own bullshit.
In the end, it was an extended bout of one of those "Oh God They're All Going To Figure Out That I'm A Fraud" moments. You know the ones: All of a sudden you don't feel smart enough, you don't feel bright enough, fast enough to keep up with the people around you, and that rings inside you clear and loud as a fucking bell. Yeah. That.
One of the best things about communication as a first principle? It means that you will talk to the people who make you feel inadequate about the fact that, sometimes, you think they're too smart for you, and they will call you on your bullshit. ( Duke Ellington - [West Indian Pancake]). Not a bad thing, at all.
As I said, on Twitter: The problem with destroying 99% of one's insecurities with an unholy cleansing fire is that the 1% which remain? Those fuckers are STRONG. It's like antibiotic resistance, that way.
Sometime tomorrow, I'm going to start writing something about cyborgs and metaphysics, because the idea has been gnawing at my brain for two days.
Right now, I need to go to bed.
Good night
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