I am swimming in the troubled waters of tomorrow.
Waiting for the end.
That hit me today. It’s exactly how I feel at this very moment. I feel happy and sad. There are many good reasons for both. Does that mean I am manic? Maybe I am just a maniac. I probably am. On top of being manic.
I feel good because I have a great job, and some financial security along with that, although the guarantee that it will last, is limited and depends completely on me. I have to prove now that I am professionally capable of taking on a job that has basically consumed and hollowed out all my predecessors.
Every positive holds the potential for negative. The negative, is my emotional condition. I am well aware that the negative emotional condition is a consequence of how I am in general. I have isolated myself into this spiral. It are all consequences of choices I have made in the past, but I do not consider those as wrong choices, they are choices made by a human being with social limitations. On the other hand, I have stopped considering that I am intelligent, but I am still pursuing the definition of the difference between intelligence and geniality. I think I am not a genius, but I know for sure that I am different. I am still convinced that I live a life in an other dimension on another planet. Does that mean I am crazy? That conclusion would depend on the definition of crazy. What if everyone else is crazy, and I am normal?
I cry every day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But crying is not wrong I think. I cry about the beauty I find in nature, songs, words and texts. I cry probably for the beauty I see in things that I do not sense in real life. Maybe I am searching for that. Someone once told me: ‘stop finding grief, start seeking happiness’. OK. You can teach a monkey to stop eating till it dies. You can write a great love letter to yourself till you read it. It stops there, really. That probably explains why all stories/novels I have written so far have suicide as a main theme. I discovered that not so long ago. Self-analysis makes you an emotionally richer person I think.
Sad: many reasons I think. Losing your parents is hard. Not seeing your 4 children is hard. It’s emotionally hard. Never seeing anyone is hard, even if it is your own personal choice because of your social limitations. Trying to integrate in a remote conversation with people who tell you that they love you is hard. They are not there. These virtual shoulders to cry on are sometimes to virtual. But in the end, all this will not physically kill you. Maybe that is the true sadness, being unable to not wake up anymore.