sábado, 7 de julho de 2018

Brief moments

"Abstract in Shards" by Charles Litka

...and suddenly, before anyone could even catch a glimpse of this awing shadowed light, with which was already happening; just like that, and it was back from the ashes, not as the burning, flaring bird; but as something else entirely.

The quote above is not actually a quote, but I thought it would be cool if I had some kind of an epic narrating to my comeback. I tried to use as few latin-derived words as I could, and as you will see if you look at them again, all of them are of germanic origin with the exception of, perhaps, "entirely".

But enough of the jib-jabbering...

I decided I would write today because I just had a full cup of coffee and, as I think most everyone knows, coffee takes your anxiety all the way up to hell. There were a couple of events which happened today that made your old bloggy-buddy here feel not all that well.

So do you ever just feel left out? Like when everybody is enjoying something you're also supposed to enjoy, when everyone around you has enjoyed that something and you're still missing out? Like the lives of everyone you know keep going forward, following those very similar middle-class patterns of life with the same stories, but in slightly different narratives? And I am by no means criticizing them; I think they're predominant in our culture for good reason -- they lead to generally happy, fulfilled lives -- and I admittedly aspire to live them someday. But it is, ultimately, the feeling of not belonging; of being too different, or too distant from the usual, when it comes to a set of particularly important matters.

If I'm being too abstract, I want to mean our social life, our professional life, our academic life, our sex life, and our domestic life. Or, in shorter terms: friends, job, study, sex and family. You do see very evident patterns for these five aspects of life in most cultures, don't you? They differ a bit from each other, but they share some very fundamental features that make them predominant. I won't go about to display or discuss all of them here, since that is beyond my knowledge, but I do feel there are some basic and specific accomplishments, behaviors and goals all cultures expect you to have for these five segments of life, which are generally deemed integral to the human living.

Today I found out a person whom with I am very close have finally met someone. I've always sort of internally had a mild rivalry with this person to see who'll first go forward in that regard, and I thought I was some yards ahead... but seemingly, I've been wrong. And I know I'm an asshole. I know I should be happy for them and, for once, not such of a self-centered bastard. That person lived through some pretty bad stuff, and it's beautiful to see that at least some things are turning around for them. But it is in relation to the other that we're able to put ourselves in perspective, and I can't help but feel unhopeful for myself.

So, here's the thing, dear reader; I'm lonely.

I'm lonely but no longer suffer as I used to some years ago. I've grown accustomed to it, and I deal with it. I accept it for the time being and try not to think too hard into the future. But there are some brief moments when all of my inner structures holding this raging sadness goes to shambles; when I have these little giant moments of extreme despair, when I feel like my world is decomposing and exploding into a million little pieces flying everywhere, and screaming is all I can think of.

I try to canalize all of that playing the guitar or the piano, but it's 2:29 am and this is currently not an option. That's why I write. And here I am. Still alone. I'll probably be meeting my friend's more-than-a-friend tomorrow, and I'll probably be more uneasy and uncomfortable and anxious than I usually am around them. I guess it's still kind of a shock. It's greatly changing the way I see my friend. Deep down, I'm thinking "how could this have happened to them already???" Like what the fuck is wrong with me?? Why can't I fucking be with someone?

It's two-fifty a.m. and I'm not angry. I'm lost.
That's how I usually feel during these brief-long moments.

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