Introspection #1
It seems no matter where I go, I an merely a visitor. I could exist in a space and absorb the mannerisms, norms, the culture and even after an extended period of existing there I'll still just be a visitor. I am a nomad, I struggle to lay roots, I am that annoying mosquito that appears and disappears seemingly at random.
I forewarn those around me who care to listen, I am evil, I will exist one moment and disappear the next, leaving them wondering if they did something wrong. I can't help it, I have Schrödinger's interest. There's no matter of if but when it will happen. There's nothing I can do to stop it, it's inevitable. I am simply a flawed human being.
The only constant in my life is the work I do, my longest commitment is software. I do what I do because it's interesting, it never gets boring. The issue is no one other than me enjoys this specific form of torture. And it is torture, maddeningly so, at a moments notice the serenity can be replaced with dread. Enjoyment with the feeling of death.
Do people who enjoy torture exist? I haven't found any yet. What I have found is that everyone's torture is different, and some make it very apparent. Watching ants squirm is fun.
In the event my torture becomes boring, I'll probably die. I'm looking forward to it, but for now, the show must go on.
