“A picture of me”: A post by a social recluse about his worldview

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Donor
MBTI
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Those who are prone to existential dread may want to sit this one out.

Here is the source: https://caspercloudwalker.bearblog.dev/a-picture-of-me/

In 1987, two men were found to be wandering alone in the Brazilian Amazon. They were obviously tribal peoples, but they didn't seem to have a tribe. Neither modern Brazilians nor other local tribal people were able to understand or identify their language. For reasons I'm not quite clear on, they were taken forcefully to go live on a reservation, and subsequently were moved many times over the years. Their names were Aurê and Aurá (pronounced ow-rey and ow-rah). Their exact ages were unknown, but in 2018 Aurá was guessed to be around 65; Aurê died in 2012.

What happened to these two men's tribe? No one knows for sure. The most likely explanation is that they were either killed off by a rival tribe, or by ranchers/miners/loggers who had been moving into the area since around the time they were found. Only one man, a linguist who lived in the area, had ever managed to learn any of their language, and what he did learn was not enough to communicate fluently. Aurá would often ramble to himself about something terrible that happened in the past, likely the incident that killed off his tribe. When asked by the linguist where his people went, he would only reply that they were dead.

Try to put yourself in his place for a second. The world that this man knew is gone. He lives now in some kind of strange afterlife, spending most of his time sitting alone in a hut waiting to die. People who lose their job or their business after working there for so many years, or their house with all their possessions in it, or their spouse of fifty years, often say afterwards that it/they was “their whole world.” In some cases we wouldn't argue with them. But even when you lose the most important thing to you, the one thing you spend all your time and effort on, there still exists a world that you are familiar with to some extent. Roads, houses, TV shows, politicians, toothpaste, apple pie, people who speak the same language as you do- all of that remains. For Aurá, most of what remains is the forest itself, though he lives now within walking distance of many modern things which were never part of his world until he was captured, and is too old to live off the land like he used to.

It was only two days ago that I watched the documentary about these men, and I would have wanted to tell people the story even if everything was going great for me, because I find it fascinating, but as it is, I feel more like Aurá than I do the average American citizen- whatever that may mean. I feel, now more than ever, like I am the last of my kind. My social life dissolved over a period of years in my late thirties, to the point where, from October or November of 2020 until a few days after Christmas in 2021, I did not see a single person that I knew. Let me be clear about what I'm saying: I went over a year being entirely solitary, as if I were locked away in a tower by myself. I had, in that time, maybe three conversations on the phone, and exchanged a few words here and there with my neighbors or people I didn't know out in public. Since I wasn't working or otherwise involved in anything, and lived alone, this was entirely possible. People complained a lot about feeling isolated during covid lock-down even when they had room mates and jobs and school and friends and family. Of course when things suddenly change drastically, the difference is noticeable, and can be hard to adjust to. And I believe that what they felt was real; the world is a very isolating and dehumanizing place these days. But I don't know of anyone, save for maybe some of the older homeless people who've all but lost their will to live, and Aurá, who would understand what it feels like to have no one.

It is not just the physical isolation either. If it were only that, I'd still wake up in a good mood every day, knowing that I had friends who care about me, and who care about what I care about, and who thought of me as an integral part of their lives, even if we couldn't hang out regularly. Even if I didn't have close friends, but was still part of a community where I was listened to and respected, that would be something. But I have none of that. I haven't been close to anyone in years, and I hardly ever talk to any acquaintances either. Even in the more anonymous virtual world that people spend so much time in now, I am a nobody. I have found no groups there that I can be a part of. My ideas, my attitude, my life story, the difficulties I currently have in functioning- all of these things make me too different to fit in anywhere for more than a singular moment. By singular moment I mean when you and a stranger on the street both witness something worth mentioning/laughing at/etc and happen to be within talking distance to each other, and you share a moment. Beyond that though, I don't know of anyone I could get along with day after day. Nobody speaks my language. The world seems to run on endless positive-vibes-only small talk, and I can't do that anymore. A few minutes maybe, on a good day, but then I'm done. There is no possible way I could keep up a friendship based on that level of energy.

There's a movie that came out a couple years ago called I Don't Feel At Home In This World Anymore, and that title pretty much sums it up. Most of the things- and I mean like 99.9%- that people do or talk about, I just have no interest in (or actively disagree with). Under vastly different circumstances, I certainly could or even would, but not in this world. I cannot take seriously all these fleeting pastimes and bucket lists and ultra-specific cultural critiques when the world is a horrible place that is going to implode soon if we don't do something about it. If I'm going to be involved in one of those conversations, it needs to be either with someone I'm really drawn to, or someone who already knows what I'm about. I can't talk just for the sake of talking anymore. I haven't had the energy for that in a long time.

You might think that since I've been so deprived of company and conversation I would be happy to get whatever I can, even if it's just surface level chatting, but it's not like that. I am often desperately looking inward to find the strength to go on, or the answer to some question, but I am no longer desperate for outward things, and certainly not for things of low quality. Accepting a constant stream of low quality things for most of my life, including interactions with other people, only contributed to the way my life has gone and the way I feel now. No, I am only interested in something real, whatever that may be. That's why I love writing- it feels like I'm talking to someone who gets me.

To be fair, and look at it from another direction, maybe I'm not nearly as unique as I think I am, and this is all just a reaction to not being loved or feeling appreciated or understood. And maybe someday in the future, I'll come to the conclusion that I had wasted all this time by thinking I was in some way separate from everyone else, when I just needed to love them even more. Maybe. But until then, I feel like I'm the last of my kind.

Do you relate to this post? Although this author's case is clearly an extreme one, I think it is just a more concentrated version of a broader kind of malaise that many people in this generation can empathize with.

I found the part about people being preoccupied with very narrow matters of cultural propriety and missing the big issues especially persuasive. But I also think that this man's very accurate criticism of society is also mixed in with some self-image and mental-health issues that make it hard to endorse his take entirely.
 
With modern society fragmenting into what it is today this issue is only going to get worse where before it was only small numbers of individuals but eventually it will be whole demographics.
 
Those who are prone to existential dread may want to sit this one out.

Here is the source: https://caspercloudwalker.bearblog.dev/a-picture-of-me/



Do you relate to this post? Although this author's case is clearly an extreme one, I think it is just a more concentrated version of a broader kind of malaise that many people in this generation can empathize with.

I found the part about people being preoccupied with very narrow matters of cultural propriety and missing the big issues especially persuasive. But I also think that this man's very accurate criticism of society is also mixed in with some self-image and mental-health issues that make it hard to endorse his take entirely.
Yes, I relate with it. If he can manage a little longer and find his way, he'll be in a good spot.

What are your thoughts on it @ultrauber ?



(edit: added question)
 
What are your thoughts on it @ultrauber ?

I share the sense of a broad mismatch between the issues that I consider important and worthy of discussion, and those that people IRL seem to care about.

I think it comes from having lived overseas for 4 years. By learning, as an outsider, how to function here, I gained an appreciation for which aspects of the culture serve a particular goal (such as promoting efficient decision-making or conveying information about social status and experience) and which ones are "just like that" and don't have a precise purpose (other than general social cohesion). And I have learned to scrutinize my native country, the US, in the same way.

My American friends, nowadays, seem endlessly preoccupied with using the "correct" language. I'm not just talking about gendered pronouns and avoiding racial slurs and stuff—these are issues I actually do think are important. What bugs me is that people have bought into this law of attraction–adjacent notion that to introduce any kind of negativity into a conversation or challenge someone's attitude is a grave offense, because you are interfering with their ability to "live their truth."

When I was a kid, I was taught to engage without ego in free debate about ethical, political, and social issues, and people often would deliver arguments for a side they disagreed with for the purpose of sharpening their critical-thinking skills and learning to understand one another. Nowadays, the idea of a "devil's advocate" has been thoroughly problematized; if you claim to be explaining a belief, people will assume you are actually espousing it but are too cowardly to admit so.

In other words—and as someone who loves reading and writing, it sucks to admit this, but—modern Americans greatly overestimate the power of words to change you. I think that words can be powerful and influential, but only if we make ourselves receptive to them. I'm not going to turn into a eugenicist just because I watched one Jordan Peterson video or whatever.

At the same time, unlike the author of the "Picture of me" essay, I am not a social recluse. I have found a few precious friends who share my love of conversation, and I feel that I have been able to convince a couple of people of the importance of free inquiry. And although I think that many people have the wrong ideas about the world, this doesn't make me want to check out of reality and ignore everyone. It makes me want to get out their and debate them. If my ideas are as correct as I think they are, then it is urgent that I win other people over to my side, no? Or else they might keep being wrong, and impose their wrongness on others!
 
What bugs me is that people have bought into this law of attraction–adjacent notion that to introduce any kind of negativity into a conversation or challenge someone's attitude is a grave offense, because you are interfering with their ability to "live their truth."

Thankfully, this ’murican doesn’t know anyone like that, and I have not experienced that kind of expressed sentiment, ever.

And were I to experience it, I’d say “you do you, Boo,” and go about my business. :)

Such Narcissistic Sense of Entitlement—Yikes!,
Ian
 
Thankfully, this ’murican doesn’t know anyone like that, and I have not experienced that kind of expressed sentiment, ever.

And were I to experience it, I’d say “you do you, Boo,” and go about my business. :)

Such Narcissistic Sense of Entitlement—Yikes!,
Ian
Well, I hope you live in the corner of "Amercia" that I will be moving to in the fall (spoiler: it's not the North...). :laughing:

I'm holding out hope, though. Rejoining this community has convinced me that there are people in the English-speaking world I can vibe with, and I think that as long as I put myself out there instead of succumbing to self-defeating assumptions about others, I will be fine.
 
I don't know that this is specific to this generation. It's a sentiment I'm sure I've read before from accounts going back centuries (though with no specific example to cite, I may just be projecting). It's just that we can write it out and shared it much more easily now.

That said, I feel what he wrote to some degree. I am pretty self-isolated. So when he writes that he barely talks to anyone, well, same here. But it's a personal choice for personal reasons.

Where I ultimately don't feel this as a negative is that, as he points out, the world is still very familiar to me. I walk outside and there's roads, joggers, cars zipping about. I know I can walk into any store, any bar, and library, and I'll find someone with whom I can have a brief interaction. And for whatever reason, that's often enough. I don't feel alone because it's pretty apparent that I am not alone. And I also have family and friends who, though I see them rarely, I know are still a part of my life. I'd say I feel bad for them when they want more from me and I won't give it. And beyond that, I strive to cultivate an inner world that is not dependent on jobs or relationships. I look ahead and I see a time when those things are no longer here, so I need to have an appreciation of life that is independent of all that. Imagination, hobbies, whatever we can call it. Otherwise, yeah, I will lose the will to live. Or go insane.

When I ponder the idea from the start of this story, of being in a foreign environment where I can't communicate, then I feel the existential dread. It's to the point that I don't think I even want to travel someplace unless I have some degree of familiarity with the language. When you can't have the simplest interaction with someone in which you both understand each other, that's terrifying.
 
I walk outside and there's roads, joggers, cars zipping about. I know I can walk into any store, any bar, and library, and I'll find someone with whom I can have a brief interaction.
This line actually surprises me. I live in a very densely populated city and there is no shortage of people, but it's difficult for me to say that I could just go "interact" with someone on the street if I wanted to. I could have a transaction, as in, I could say some minimal hellos to the cashier at the convenience store, but I honestly don't think the modern urban landscape is conducive to just striking up a conversation with someone.
 
Sort of an interesting op.

The sentiment of belonging to a tribe is something I occasionally think about: a group that has a shared sense of origin, values, and destiny.

Some people seem to experience the sentiment of belonging to a "tribe" easily, centred on a single element of group identity. For example, nationality or race (history), a principal moral/value like animal protection or the environment or law reform, or a simplistic sense of shared destiny like sports fans hoping victory for their team.

Other people seem to have more complex thresholds for experiencing tribal identity, to the point that so many elements are essential to their group identification, that they essentially reduce the possible number of people they can identify with down to a fraction of a percentage of the total population.

I guess there are factors which make it easier for some to integrate into groups. Perhaps the need for belonging is stronger than the sense of identity, resulting in an external sense of identity for some. On the other hand, fidelity to their own identity is so strong in some, that they cannot integrate a group identity even over trivial matters, such as a favourite musical artist.
 
Other people seem to have more complex thresholds for experiencing tribal identity, to the point that so many elements are essential to their group identification, that they essentially reduce the possible number of people they can identify with down to a fraction of a percentage of the total population.
Maybe this is the kernel of truth at the heart of his writing that made it so relatable for lots of people, even though they can't literally identify with his reclusive lifestyle. I have plenty of friends, but I also have a certain allergy to "groupthinky" activities such as sports, chanting, music fandom, etc. I take pride in being the captain of my ship, making choices because they are the right choices for me and not because they accord with my group's script. But to know this pride is also to experience a sense of shame whenever I do start to feel attachment to a group—it's like I'm giving up a part of myself for cheap approval. Probably everyone sits at a different place on this spectrum, but our society has moved to a place that seems to promote strongly defined group identities around media consumption, demographics, age, and occupation, and it's those of us who are still soul-searching to feel a bit lost and tired.
 
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