Absalom

I'm worried. Not about myself (well, I am that too, but that is not what this is about) or my life. No. I am worried about the people around me, the people I love and care about. Noone seems to be even remotely happy. Everybody just seem to try and get through the day. At best.

Is this what it means to be human? Is it? Everything seems so... Untypical. Behaviour seems so... Erratic, almost. I'm worried.

I'm so tired. Tired to the bone. Tired in my soul. A hundred years old going on eternity.

I don't understand why I can't let myself cry with anyone else. I don't understand why my tounge just becomes limp at it is impossible for me to utter a single word when I feel really bad.

I hate this world and I hate everything that has shaped me. I hate the rules, I hate the codes, I hate the expectations, I hate the stereotypes, I hate everything that is expected of me. If I could choose exactely what kind of being I was I would choose something without sex/gender, age, race, species and class. But I can't choose. And people might say "make the best of the situation" but they are totally missing the point. I don't want the situation. I'd rather disappear from the face of the earth than follow all these enslaving rules. But at the same time I just see myself following them and rejoice in the secutiry they give me.

Sometimes you wish that you could hsve remained ignorant. Not knowing, not caring.