How do I come to terms with believing in and idealising these fascist, Hellenistic kind of aesthetics but being the antithesis of them? This causes me great stress, a constant underlying sense of rage against myself. This epitomises the shut-in loser archetype but that is exactly who I want to kill and bury in an unmarked grave. Fanatical torment in this equation. It drives me mad. This is not Taxi Driver tier edginess but something much more grand. An epic kind of self-overcoming that was never realised