I am visited again by the recurring idea that I am living in a conditioned, structured, perhaps or perhaps not arbitrary, or at least particular, reality; and that this reality around me, this particular system of ideas, of the way things are, is not one into which I fit very well.

I do not consider myself to be anachronistic, in that I belong to another, or earlier, time; but, rather, I feel I belong to another system, another structure, another form of circumstances, another set of ideas.

It is hard for me to escape from that pulling I feel, and have yet to yield to, have yet to look at full on with brave eyes—that who I am, who I will be, should be, am meant to be, and do, simply cannot be actualized within the system of the machine that is oft referred to as the ‘real world,’ which, of course, I feel is a deceptive, inaccurate, and dangerous misnomer.

I often wonder if there is a system in this time in which I can be myself.

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From my personal notes, 6/27/00