I’m an introvert and quite anti-social when I’m not in party mode. I go through phases. It’s either extreme solitude (or so I tell myself) or running around like a loose canon.
And I can be very self-disciplined when undistracted by worldly temptations. During those times I spend my time practicing music 4-5 hours most days and sometimes even more. Reading. Watching movies. Avoiding people. Working out at the gym with my headphones on and avoiding any kind of eye contact or conversation with anyone. Unfortunately at such times (if I am living in a city like now) I do have to transition from various places, to get food, social committments, live performances (which also pay my bills), etc. I can spit out a smile and present myself how I want just like an actor would on set. You know, to get by so I wouldn’t have to be an asshole and explain myself. I hate that I have this ability. It makes me feel weak.
But in such times I eventually start becoming very very… cynical, although I try my best to remain detached from everything whether it’s the news or my emotions. Everything. Sometimes when I stop at traffic lights I look around and see an army of idiots. This makes me feel bitter. And lonely. The way people dress and behave in our americanized world. How we have become so disconnected and dishonest as a society. As a species. And how little we really care about anything or anyone (of course our collective delusions and dishonesty would never allow us to admit that).
Every girl and guy walking on the street is a model. A model of what society has become. And especially a model to themselves in their own mirrors. Making sure that ass looks good before running out the door into the great urban mating ritual. The streets have become an infinite cat walk for the girls and the boys are walking around doing their peacock-cowboy strut as if this is the wild jungles where the alpha gorilla is king. The cats and peacocks and gorillas walking by as strangers pretending not to care if they are noticed. Like celebrities. Seemingly in a rush to get somewhere. Reeking of importance and purpose. Doing everything possible to not uncover what we truly are; nobodies going nowhere.
The worst part comes inevidently when I turn my ferocious spotlight on myself? How do I act, dress, behave myself? What do I see when I look in the mirror and how do I want to be seen when the mirror is gone and I am walking on the streets? What are others thinking? Or are they thinking at all about anything besides what they have been programmed to think?
Sometimes I feel like an invisible animal trapped in an invisible cage.
And then of course there’s the others side, the opposite side of me… that’s when the cage turns into a theme park full of endless rollercoasters, sleepless nights, new friends and acquaintances, drunken adventures where the days and nights bleed into one another. I become social again. Hopeful. Connected. Happy. NORMAL. I belong. Eager to interact. There is promise in the air I breathe. Dreams to be fulfilled. I become drugged up, dumbed down, and ready to rock and dance the night away. I pretend to know shit. I manipulate and seduce my way in and out of different settings, parties, social circles. Adapting like a chameleon. I wander through the nights and days, even weeks in a fog of fun and madness, wanting to ignite the world with my passion and desire. Never quite getting there… which eventually leads me back to the dungeon where I continue to slave away and refine whatever it is that I am doing.
This is the double life I live. Like a coin with two sides. I am a double-edged sword. Yet I am neither nor do I know if I really even want to be. Good luck Markus, you’re on your own.