Crisis of self

I want to live artfully. For the visceral experience of living and dying. And instead I'm stuck in this fucking cage of consumerist bullshit and cheap, bargain bin notfreedom

As for who I am.... I'm completely counter dependent whether I like it or not. Stubborn and dominant. Ultra creative. Painfully unable to participate in what is considered to be normal settled life (agricultural human civilization). My dominance has flourished by muting myself to most anyone... Excluding them from me, retaining control by avoidance. This is fascinating. 

As for who I desire - the ones I adore most are the most expressive warm and inclusive, non counterdependent, the most opposite. ... The Front-men and women of the world. Outwardly Creative - endlessly loving.

The brilliant ones who seek those of similar brilliance - perceptive enough to detect it in us obtuse, counterdependently awkward loners -and build their community of us. 

To me, BEING an artist means relentlessly expressing what you feel to be relevant and real regardless of whether it is understood or even remotely accepted by any audience. My values dictate an unshakeable honesty... Which makes me an artist by pure manner of ethics.