Good that I now listen to it after I betrayed myself again.
I have so many possible diagnoses, but if I don’t scrue up completely, no one will give one to me. I don’t want a diagnose because I have too many. In the end I just want to know, I can do what I love and don’t have to rely on other people too much. Meaning, that I can do what I love without the need of someone else, but if someone wants to help that would be okay. I don’t want someone else to work and pay for me because I can’t work for a company, at least not in a average way. So I can only hope for a way to do my own thing and risk something. It is so hard when you aren’t the only one to care about and in the end others care about you maybe more than you care about them… Why can’t I just live alone, fight alone and survive alone? I just don’t want to always have to think for other people. Not because I want to, but it has to be this way. Otherwise I would let them behind. I could do that, but then I would know that it would only get worse for them.
So, I drag myself down again because I can’t accept the truth. I can’t believe in the truth because all I see is pain. Yet, I know the truth I found is the only way and it works. A living paradox, in it’s natural habitat – me.
And in general the cycle is more and more getting control back on one side of the brain. It is strange man, on the one side I am still open and I see and on the other side of the brain I am backwards again.
I can only overcome myself, when I know that I am the only one left. Like the last human on earth, but only for my family. When I would be alone completely, it would be horrible. Not because I can’t be alone (I am very good on being alone, trust me), but because at some point we just need someone else. Just human nature, even if we hate all humans, there is always the need for someone else. And someone who hates all other humans, most of the time doesn’t really hate all humans, but he hates them because he thinks he is alone because the don’t seem to understand.
After I watched the TED talk about Estonia and their digital government system, I thought, well this would be the ideal country for me.
As I mentioned before in my “private” journal, my favorite countries so far were Canada, Iceland and Russia because of the nature, people and other things. But Estonia is just like a wet dream for people like me, a government almost completely digital, no need for difficult or strange paper work, access all over the world and so on.
I guess that I could have been something great, I am something great or even a legend, but then I am still a lost soul, which found life and almost lost it because of the own damage and misunderstanding of the surrounding world.
When the only need for me is, to have enough food so I am not hungry (some bread, water and maybe some fish?). And I just want to write a little or help some people, continue learning new things like technologies and philosophy, spiritually or socially.
I am interested in a hope which is not available for me, it seems, although I am able to feel it and have. So I am paradox from the beginning until now. Medication, therapy, talking, will never help with it. Not because I is not able to make a change, but because it isn’t all. It feels more like taking drugs, drinking alcohol or jumping down a bridge with an elastic rope.
When I first heard about Kafka in school, I didn’t know much about him and still can’t say I have read much of him nor heard about him. But what I read in school and heard from my old germen teacher told me, was very interesting. Most other people in the class didn’t understand him I guess, no wonder I suppose. But I thought, well this guy is interesting. Why haven’t I heard from him before?
Magic in words is not the word, not the writer, not the reader, but what the brain and heart of the reader makes out of the words. So in the end the words might be nonesense, pointless or just a basic story like many others. The reader who really wants to feel it, still could get an understand of something maybe even the writer didn’t think about while writing.
When there is literally more to the story than originally intended, you could say it is some sort of magic.
Maybe this Almanac thing I am doing right now, will never be seen as something special because it isn’t. There are so many other people writing blogs, sharing their lives or advertising things etc.
This believe hold me back for many years and also brought me to burn some of my work or delete it. Just because I thought and got told that there are many other people like me and I am not special. So talking to someone who is depressed could make it even worse you know. If you say for example: “You aren’t the only one.” This could sometimes be translated into: “There is no worth, you are just like all the other lost ones. Get over it or die.” or maybe “You think you are special? Look at all the other people who tried and failed. Do you really think you are any different?”
Sure most of the time it is not meant this way, but feelings and perspectives can change meanings of words. So I am a bad listener, when there is human interaction involved. I either completely stop walking, only when I am almost forced to talk or I just talk and talk, not letting the other person say something. This is of course not always like this, but often. And in the end I think, well I shouldn’t have started the conversation in the first place, or if it wasn’t me: “Why did I not just stop?”
Wege werden selten einmal betreten,
viele betreten und verlassen sie,
um sich die Beine zu vertreten,
aber wem sag ich das, wer sind Sie?
Wege können verloren gehen,
vielleicht findet man sie einmal wieder,
manche werden scheinbar für immer bestehen,
an manch einem Weg wächst etwas Flieder.
Ist das denn wichtig für den Weg?
Eigentlich nicht, er wird nur begangen,
oder eben nicht, ohne Beleg,
ein unangenehmens Verlangen.
Sind alle Wege Einbahnstraßen?
So scheint es heutzutage.
Entweder du gehst voran,
oder du bleibst zurück.
Doch am Ende führen alle Wege in den Tod.
Gibt es auch den einen ins Leben?
Vielleicht kommen wir gerade von dort.
Sollten wir umkehren, wird es das geben?
Aber ist unser Lauf vom Leben in den Tod?
Oder nur ein ewiges Herumirren?
Nur Elend, Leid und Not,
Weil wir uns gegenseitig verwirren?
Zurück gehen im Leben, nicht der Politik.
Zurück dorthin, von wo wir kamen.
Weg von Erwartungen und Kritik.
Ach ihr Lieben, habt doch Erbarmen.
I am like the fortunetellers, they can tell you whatever you want or they sense about you. But when it comes to themselves, they maybe don’t see anything or just an unease feeling.
The old story of not knowing about yourself, while you know a lot about everyone else, who you might not even know. Why? Because in some way we have more positive feelings for other people, than for ourselves. Not everyone of course, but from my perspective and some other people who feel the same way. So when I think about myself, I think “I know I can do complicated things and understand what I am doing. I know I can create cool things, help people and make many different things. I may be talented with so many things. But… The great BUT who blocks it all of. It might all be just my own perspective and I am actually just stupid and am just another human being who thinks it can do something while it is just strange and stupid.” – Welcome to my brain. I am J.SYS and this is, how to break yourself down over and over again, while you try to get to live the life you always dreamed about. Oh man… And well I don’t know whether it is actually getting better or worse over time now. All I know: “You become what you believe.” – Oprah (I hope this is the right quote)
There are many ways, there is much hope and pain.
As I said, I can fight for myself, if I would know that it would just hurt myself, when I fail. The last time I tried to fail, it hurt so many people and this just broke me down. After this day (last week Monday) I half of my brain again. Half because I am pretty sure, that I have a bipolar disorder or something similar. Around two weeks before and after Christmas everything was fine and I felt normal. And I never felt normal, only as a little child, before I got into contact with other children.