TOTW: DELUSIONAL THOUGHTS; (source: anarchistnews.org)

I’ll admit I have a flair for the dramatic. If permitted to see the inner workings of my mind, you’d catch me, one day, strolling on my private astral plane of individuality, unimpeded by the herd, empowered and enthused by notions of my own autonomy, negation, and other five dollar words. On certain other days, you couldn’t convince me I’m more than a mere product of my environment, a manufactured post-human created to serve myths and markets that run just fine without me. I believe both of these sentiments to be entirely true and entirely false facts of my life that, once tilted heavily enough toward an extreme, border on what I’d call delusional thinking. I don’t mind delusions, to be clear. In fact they’re like sweets to me. I indulge in them but grow nauseous from ingesting too many. Also like sweets, I’m often not in the mood for them and the thought of that delicious treat I enjoyed so recently makes me shudder and swear them off entirely (only to return again). I don’t wish to seek out a proper “balance” or advocate for a healthy “diet” of delusions, only to share that certain seductions wax and wane in rhythms that escape my understanding.

Now, in case you haven’t noticed, anarchists also have a flair for the dramatic. Just check the articles and comments on this site to see for yourself. Birds of a feather flock together, I suppose. They also squawk at one another and eat their young.

Even the anarchists I prefer, like my favorite gay nurse of the Civil War, contain multitudes. They bomb banks and burn down 5G towers. Their writing exudes a wonderful solipsism and enthusiasm that’s contagious. Some have no qualms with lengthy prison stints in ways I’ll never understand. Others think stealing meat from supermarkets will shut down slaughter houses.

If I’m feeling generous, I can feed on this buzzing excitement. If I’m not, I can feel quite alone, skeptical, and defeated. Excessiveness demands a lot. Sometimes I beg for a break from delusions and wish to return to some kind of relative normalcy. “Give me the blue pill,” I think if only for a passing moment. Perhaps this makes me a part-time anarchist.

Anarchy, as a concept and lived way of being, is alluring to some because of its delusion. The reminder that impossibility is possible, that moments of self-destruction and creation can displace limits imposed on us by the State, one another, and ultimately ourselves can appear as a freedom as well as a crushing burden. What's the difference, anyway? “It’s what you make of it,” as the saying goes.

How do you indulge in your delusions for anarchy? Do you fly close to the sun without regard for your melting wings? Or look up only at the moon from the ground? Perhaps your feet have never left the dirt. When do delusions serve to empower you and when do they only serve to twist your stomach in knots? Do you regularly flip-flop like I do, or ride a more neutral wave of rebellion?

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Source: TOTW: Delusional thoughts | anarchistnews.org