In a previous post I had been talking about the feelings of guilt about taking the time to produce something that seems unnecessary in some larger scheme that is predetermined by an imaginary force coined normative ideology. Today, I seemed to be rubbing against a more intrusive and much more overwhelming beast - fear - which probably stems from the weak structure on which this notion stands. The fear is spurred by questions of purpose, which sort of like the guilt, festers from inquiries into intent and selfishness, but spawns itself precisely through the inconclusiveness of its nature. Basically, great fear comes from what is unknown, yet it is that unknown that creates the enigmatic draw of entering into something in the first place. This circular logic is exactly what drives me to investigate any matter, but especially those matters within my self. The rollercoaster ride involved in being an individual who partakes in such trivial endeavors, such as making art for no real "purpose", can be exhausting and trying and I cannot say that it really ever goes away, it is more just that the gap between the delusions of grandeur and crippling terror just get larger. Today was a little terrifying. However, sometimes, when I cannot justify what I do, I am even more convinced that there is a good reason for it (maybe that's the delusion creeping back in?). I think that the isolation of working at home is enacting its wicked force on this specific weakness at this point, but maybe that is an important hurdle that I need to face. We fear what we cannot control, yet we cannot control what we fear.