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Christmas makes me sad. I had written a longer post about it, but technology wasn't working in my favour. In short, christmas makes me remember my childhood and what I remember most from my childhood is disappointment, stress and humiliation.
Yeah.
I'm sick and I'm at work. I sort of like pushing myself like this but it doesnt do much for my mental health. I feel sad and alone. Keep rehashing old shit. Nothing new there, though. Spend at least 3 nights a week doing that, not being able to sleep.
I wonder when it was different.
Christmas makes me feel even more alone.
People are just so complicated. Building up their images of stuff, of other people and... It just takes of from there. And you realize how blind they are. How blind you have been. How blind you still must be.
I don't like to have my idols destroyed.
One wonders... One just wants the days to pass and yet there is not enough time in the day to get shit done.
Travelling home from work always give me a slight sense of sorrow. It's not that I am sorry that I can't work any more, it's not that I miss my job. It's something else. A pause or break at an end. Back to something that less and less feels like a home and more and more like... A dung heap. Storage space. Just a place, among countless other places. Maybe I'm scared of actually letting it become my home, seeing how those things ends. Maybe, maybe not. Some day I might investigate that further but not here and not now.
I have, once again, been thinking about people (as always) and my own feelings (as always). A large source of pain for me the past year has been that I have felt cast out. A large part of what was once my life suddenly wasn't and it didn't feel good. But there you have it. Now, a large source of irritation has been people on the fringes (no, some of them has been more. Or rather, I thought that they were.) that just... Complicates things. Somehow they manage to do stuff that just comes back to bite me in the ass. It's kind of strange to deal with since I'm quite out of the loop. But it feels a bit like the die has been cast and all I can do is to wait and see how they land. I don't know when or how they will land but I ain't counting on a ''Yatzy!''-moment.
But it is as it is. I don't really know what else is to be done right now.
I just want to feel like I have won. Just once. That I really have won, you know? But I don't see that happening any time soon. There's not really anything in my life that feels real, important and worthwhile. Just one thing and that thing scares me. Not the thing in itself but that I will disappoint. History and recent analyzes shows that it has been known to happen. And although I won't claim that I know myselt that well, I know that the glass is half empty.
People talks about not having secrets and that you should share your dark sides and that it doesn't matter, that it won't change their feelings and so forth. I'm not claiming that I am a monster or anything, and maybe I'm too unexperienced, too small, too dead inside, but I don't believe it to be true. Things like that change you. They change the people around you. It changes the relationships, it changes the balance. Maybe that's why it's easier for me to communicate such things with strangers than with loved ones. There is no balance there. There is no relationship that can be damaged, that can be betrayed.
I met a guy the other day that described himself as "a genuinely good person." He was a bit drunk, had had a hectic couple of hours and despite the fact that he was older than me, there was something a bit innocent and naive about him so I let that remark pass. Otherwise I hate people like that. I hate people saying that, thinking that about themselves. It's way too pompous, it's too 'high and mighty' and it unfairly and unhonourably gives you absolution of your past. You are no stronger than your weakest link, your filthiest sin and that's OK. Just be a little humble about it. Yeah, it's really nice that you are a member of Amnesty/Greenpeace/whatever and that you would probably not intentionally hurt another living thing, but you are on the top of the food chain, baby. Your mere existance causes suffering. Your consience is not lily white. It is at it's best light grey, like the ash of cremated corpses. And that's OK. But it is not white.
I've always thought of myself as even-tempered. Maybe I am, but that doesn't make me a good or fair person. I have recently noticed how my mood differs from hour to hour. I mostly spend the days at home with feeling antisocial and sorry for myself, the afternoons with a sense of panic in my guts and the evenings somewhat at ease. It's got something to do with how every day is full of promises, and me being convinced that it isn't for me.
I have also been contemplating 'right', 'responsibility' and pragmatism. Sometimes maybe it isn't someones responsibility to do something but in order to make something happen you have to do it. But now I don't know if that's me. Or if it ever was. Or I'm 'right'.
It's so difficult to put it in words. I know that I haven't acted right in every situation, but that doesn't meen that I have been wrong. Or that the situation is my fault. And now a decision I tried to make (no, I did make it) over 6 months ago has once again been made over my head. Makes me wanna act an outright cunt and disrespect it but that ain't even a possibility for so many reasons.
Nah, fuck it. Let it be.
What people say and what people do is too often really different things. They say they'll be there and then they can't even be arsed to call you back. So you don't really know where you have them.
My problem is that I don't understand people, I don't remember my own history and that I'm chicken.
That old wounds can hurt so much. I talked to H the other day, about him and S. He said that he wished that this whole year that has passed wouldn't have happened and it chocked me a bit, thinking that the nice things in their relationship and the things he has learned was greater than the pain. But it wasn't. And some days I agree with him.
The fun thing is that this 'new' thing I'm in has been so smooth and painless that for just that reason I didn't think it was real. It was just so smooth and... It just worked from the beginning and at times I almost thinks it's boring just because of it. Damaged goods? Me? Aren't we all?
Why do I care what other people think about me? Or do I? Am I worried about something else? Like 'them' catching on to me.
I feel like I really have to take some sort of break. Especially from the alcohol. There's still a lot of identity questions left to answer. It will probably be the next step in the Project. If I feel like sharing.
