The content described a painful realisation that I have had about myself lately. I'm burying myself in the real world to do two things (I think):
1. To hide from how much I need to use all my perceptions
2. To find even in shallow achievements victory.
I'm hiding within a comfort zone. My whining and wallowing (as I should have known already) is symptomatic of shallow stupidness.
But... I don't wanna have to work for satisfaction. At the same time, I keep feeling the awfulness of my actions and thoughts welling up in the back of my mind
And there are things that I do want to accomplish in this real world -- even if they are ephemeral pleasure. I have no guilt about that. I don't think it's purely materialistic. I want to make images with content, tell stories that are entirely untrue and are purely referential and filled with love and lust without guilt and misery. I dearly want to be a pornographer. I like porn. I love porn. Well-drawn, beautifully erotic pornography or deliciously written, sensual words arranged to inspire sexual urge... It's what I care about most in this world. It sounds so very strange, even to me, but it's what I love. Artwork and literature in general, with a focus on the Romantic and the erotic.
Somewhat related to this: Watched the film Enchanted last night. Sent me to a deep dark hell place. Hate this. Lots. Movie made me mad.