I don't know if something is particularly wrong with my view on life in general, but whenever I come across someone saying that "life is too short" I just wanna tell them that life is too damn long! Probably my hint of a depression talking again, but still. What is this to cling to? What is it people in general like about life and living? I'm just doing it cause I might as well, while I'm here, you know. It's always been like that, at my best. At my worst I'm suicidal and just wanna snuff it out as soon as possible.
Oh well, here I am complaining about the brimstone and fires of hell again. Or is this me trying to see the light in the dark? Cause I say that I might as well stick around, I mean. It's hard to know sometimes, when it's black and white at the same time. They're kinda hard to separate sometimes. It's probably ambivalence again, that I want to live at the same time as I don't. Wanna find that third option again. Cause most of the time there really isn't a third option. You either live or die, eat or starve, sleep or awake, giving up or giving in. There's no in between, just this or that, take your pick.
I wish there was something else. Something more, or less of it. Feels like I'm missing something. Did I misplace a thought somewhere? I think I lost it, forgot it and put it somewhere, and now I can't find it.
This music is fucking me up. "How to disappear completely" by Radiohead. It's so sad and brings out emotions I didn't think I had. Like standing on a deserted beach in a cold night, between summer and autumn. The water is so still, everything is dead around you. The cold wind pulls your hair, you're shivering and all alone with a broken heart. Like the wind is taking all your dreams and hopes with it, and you're empty, lost and cold.
I feel too much for one human being. Why can't Anna do her job and help me carry some of this shit? She's supposed to be my own personal, emotional guardian and care taker. It's a little heavy here, help me carry a little? I mean we are two people sharing this body and mind, so why should I have to feel so much when she doesn't? I have no idea how this works, since I don't know anyone else in this position, but is that really too much to ask of?
What good does all this writing do? It such a waste and I think it makes me feel even worse. "Good therapy to write about your feelings" says the cheerful people who expect me to be wired like everyone else. But I end up comparing my anxiety to the whole world, and my writing has turned into an obsessive addiction. You see this? All this text I publish? You should see my desktop with eight open note pad documents filled with this nonsense cause I can't stop writing. I can literally go on for hours and hours just writing about everything that comes to my mind. Then maybe you can grasp just how cluttered my mind is. I can't write it all down, my fingers don't move that fast across the keyboard. I can't even shower without getting frustrated over not being able to write down my thoughts.
How is it even possible to get addicted to writing? Beats me. I seem to be able to get addicted to basically anything in the world. things that aren't addictive, things that most people just do without putting much thought into it. Now see, there is a huge fucking problem! Others don't put much thought into it. I do. I put so damn much thought into fucking everything and more. I turn it inside out and upside down, analyse every little detail, dissect it and x-ray it until it resembles nothing at all. Of course I can get addicted to writing!
All my life I've been obsessed with communication. With my family, friends, boyfriends, myself, Anna, voices, teachers, strangers, care takers, doctors, shrinks and so on. What better way to communicate than writing, in today's society?
I'd better stop now, while I can... By the way, I've had 15 cups of tea and 45 cigarettes today, or well, from 9:30 Wednesday morning
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