Do you see the disagreements as to the conventional?
You probably kneel at bed begging God to make me ask the question here, I know you pray for me to be your solution, a magic pill as it were to think in your lines. Well in truth I'm not about to solve your problems.
I already think like you in terms of religion and food and ideology, what I don't do is necessarily agree with your illogical character, and when it comes to the conventional can't we just agree that I hold a philosophy of it and therefore (I looked these words up in the dictionary) I'm ordinary, usual, traditional, orthodox, artificial, conventional by choice, etc? Can't you agree that I'm not magically different in being the same, or extremely different, that everyone in my neighbourhood in the mainstream is just like me? That's what I like to fantasise about and my mind doesn't even know it's a fantasy, because what's behind the elephant is toxic individuals spending a whole year twisting my behaviour, trying to stop and change it, trying to fit me in an individual mold, trying to make me something different, trying to stop my religion, my beliefs, all year long. Very late last year I made a fresh start with a new year's resolution, not to change, adjust, improve, grow, have progress or development no matter what and this time it worked, my behaviour got accepted among society which is the way it should be since conventional means you have to accept that.
Of course as with my self-deception which is a big deal it falls asleep to the ugly reality, all it's getting is feedback from the doctor indoctrinating me with the belief in absolute normalcy and anti-perfectionism, and niceness from my housemate thus it's safe to peacefully write without somebody disturbing the peace, of course, it's too wonderful like the rest of you who likes living in a world similar to that, it never sees that this normal behaviour is that twist of the doctor trying to stop me from being me, at war with me and always at the ready to attack me after acting very strange in the past, do you see I can't handle the real, freaky reality?