Day 7 (evening)

(Dream log)

One dream was about me, walking.
I just had the clothes on I weared while sleeping, but this time even with the right color and so on. An undershirt and a blue jeans with a ribbon.
I was walking towards the forest near my home. But suddenly it changed, when I got near the forest. There was a different path in the forest and it just looked wrong.

Then I heard some noise and some sort of a airboat / fanboat drove through the forest, over the stones and dirt. One or two men were sitting on it, couldn’t really see it. I walk inside the forest and tried to hide. I didn’t know what was going on. Then later I just continued to walk, when the “boat” was gone. I also saw some children and other people walking or playing here and there while I was walking the path.

(Second dream sequence)

I know I had at least one more dream, but because I didn’t wrote it down after I got up, I forgot about it. Maybe I will remember later.

(Dream log over)

While I know everything will be fine. I tend to leave anyways. Not becaues I don’t know it could get better. Be sure, I know. I also know, I have so many things I can do, I may have talent or just enough interest in many things.

I could just write a book, just play music, just program somthing, develop an app, maybe create some interesting images, just think about good things, help some people, walk the road, go somewhere else, visit another country, some friends (who still exist somewhere). Sure, why not?
But inside of me there is always this broken hope: “Just another day, then it could be over. Survive until tomorrow, maybe you die soon. Don’t give up just now.” I mean, what is this? It ain’t healthy or good advise either, but it is a hope. On the other hand I could go on and on, when I am my good side. Then I have the full potential, the full hope and power. Everything is possible. While most of the time nothing is. Not even what I actually should be able to do. It is as if an elementary school kid could do more than me, most of the time. (Not meaning they can’t do cool things, but they often just want to have fun and play.)

I should be able to just move on. But because it is so easy, it is a Mount Everest for me. Don’t you understand? The easier it is, the harder it gets for me? And if it is too hard, I might do it anyways, even if I fail. Wait, really?
I don’t know… probably? So I die if things are too easy, well played.
I need a challenge and then still I would die, if it wouldn’t be my own challenge. Just putting up a challenge for me, doesn’t work it also makes it worse. I have to create my own challenges (real ones for life, not fun or stupid things). Something like, in five years I will have leading company in a social – technological field without much social interaction, but a way to improve real social interaction. (Seems strange, seems pointless, seems already available, so why should I do it?) Just because… ? Really?
But more like this, less like: “Oh, I will have a good job, maybe a wife and two children.”
If someone loves this (really, not just pretending), then go ahead and do it! But for me it isn’t the way. Maybe one day, but not in the near future, not in the world we are living in right now.

Perfect. Now something else.

It isn’t about whether I like the music I post or that I support everything. It is just that all of it is special, perfect and inspiring in its own way. Feelings, melody, emotions, lyrics, vocal, … you name it. So I could say I like it all. But I am not sure, I sure listen to it and I enjoy it in some way, but I couldn’t listen to it somewhere else. Just in my safe space, which I can’t access all the time. (I really should go to the basement, but there is so much blood and bodies in there. I should call a cleaning service. – Not an actual body of course, in my brain)
No room for hope in the basement, no reach for me when it is at the roof top. The middle floor is just strange and without a thing. Just nothing at all.

I won’t continue the story it seems. Maybe some day, maybe later. It wasn’t about the story, it was about a feeling. Was it enough or should it continue? Nothing special, just my beautiful mind… Blood is also colorized, red or black, maybe dark in some way. Isn’t it beautiful? (No) Well, then leave, just go. But if you want to, stay. Each day is like full up and down.
What started slow, goes faster and faster. Like two objects in space.
One circles around the other in an unstable way. First slow, than faster and faster while it gets closer. Until one day, they just collapse and everything breaks completely. At the moment it feels like this situation is at a very critical point. What were years before, got months, got weeks, no even days or hours already?

So what happens, when hours are really already the case and then even minutes could change between positive and negative? Is it a game, a play of some sort? Is my game making fun of me or is it real? (Can’t be) Is this what I am? A sick human being, between woman and man, between good and evil, between sane and insane, between hope and dispair, between love and hate, between air and dust. What am I after all? A monster? An angel? Nothing? An evil angel? Just a human with a mental damage, beyond repair? (No, of course not.) So what, is the opposite of sanity, when the world is insane, and I am insane and sane, depending on the situation? Is the world sane as well, or just an illusion of my mind after all? So the world is always neutral in some way, we just make it the way we see it, so it is bad, good or neutral for us, while it actually is just neutral, because it has no soul?

When I am at the point of decision tomorrow or Monday morning again. I might do the same thing I already did. What would it change? Does it make anything better? No, of course not. So why should I run away again? (It is the only thing I can do, it seems.) No, you can do more, I can do more.
But for what, if everything is related to something bad for me or others or both? (Work it out in a good way) But right now, I feel bad, good and neutral, but more bad than good. So when I continue in the way I did before, I will completely give up, I suppose. Not because I have to or really want to, but it leaves me without an alternative, does it? Sure there is always another way, I know that. I know too much, do you understand? I don’t think you understand, not even I do sometimes. It is so hard to explain that I don’t know everything, but too much. And still I act like knowing nothing. This doesn’t make sense, so how should I stay sane? Explain it to me? Well, you can’t and it isn’t your fault because I know why.

I know why I feel bad, I know why I am the way I am, still I ask questions. I know how I could get better, but I don’t do it. I know I am a human, but feel like something else. Sometimes a robot, sometimes pure energy, sometimes I am the universe of some sort. But then I am just me after all, a broken soul, lost in the world of its own, in itself. The black box is still surrounding me, the soul. I still can’t fly outside. Why should I? It could go wrong. (But isn’t this the point) Yes, it is, but then I still have no wings and isn’t it stupid to fly outside a box without a plan? (Maybe… but then you might lose a chance to do better. You can’t know what is outside) But I know, right? (Hmm) Yeah, this is the problem. I know it will work, but I don’t do it because I don’t want it work because I fear it might be an illusion and won’t work at all. (That is about right I would say) Great. Always I am breaking my own dreams because I think I have illusions… Because I can’t say, no this is right. I always fear I might be wrong completely because most of the time I stood up for myself I was wrong in the end, sometimes even in a stupid way. So I felt stupid. To a point where I wouldn’t give answers in school or at my job, while I knew an answer and it sometimes even was the correct answer the teacher wanted to hear. But I didn’t tell because I thought, it could be wrong and just make sense in my mind.

Rejection is a very heavy enemy and painful. Because when you reject yourself, you can’t have real hope because you always destroy it yourself. The only way out would be someone else who still supports you, loves you and maybe even helps you in some way. Because you won’t be able to trust yourself anymore at one point, I can’t trust myself. Sometimes, but not always. And each time I trust myself, a big questioning comes towards me again until I break down because I can’t trust myself again afterwards.

More than just an enemy to fight against. It is something deeper, something stronger, harder and more painful than every physical pain. Only the trust of someone else can withstand the self-rejection. Maybe it is a person which doesn’t know you at all, but they give you hope with your struggle. Still trust in someone you actually know would often be the easiest way. (Did you say easy?) Yes? (You know, when it is easy, it is…) Oh brother…
No, no just do it the way it feels right. (And how is it right?) Your feelings will tell you (I have no feelings. Did you forget?) Ah… right. Just drink some coffee… Fuck.

Music can be your trust because it won’t betray you.
(But some music makes me wanna kill myself.)
… oh boy. How am I supposed to help you when you are me and I am you?
(I don’t know. Ask yourself, maybe. hehe)
Wow, very helpful.
The only way out of this is my own will.
(I know… how does it work then?)
Is there a goal you want to reach?
(No, because it would go wrong anyways)
Mhhm. Have you tried medidation yet?
(Not really, but I tried it)
(Well, I listened to music, my own or other music while sitting in my chair or when I went to bed and then I just listened to it for hours maybe, while thinking and getting calm)
So it was medidation of some sort.
(Yes… ?)
Yeah, I mean medidation is just you getting inside, relaxing and thinking clear thoughts or just listen to something else, while it clears your mind – in a good way. Right?
(You are the doc…)
Well, yes and no. But yes, I suppose.

I should probably make something else now. Think about my next steps, but then what does it matter? It won’t happen anyways. Does it?
The world won’t change tomorrow, would it? So why should I try to, while I still don’t feel like it. There is no real hope, is there for me? Someone else might fight it, or find it. I just accept, that I have no real hope for my future anymore. The real hope left me some weeks ago, the way it came, before I almost died. Why should it die with me? The hope should live, but I can’t let it be, so it shall be without me.
I know it is my hope, so it is supposed to be there for me, but I always disappoint it, my soul, my hope. Why should I hurt it any longer? (Because it will hurt it even more, forever, when you leave now) But then on this earth, I will hurt forever, the ones I love, the ones who help or want to help.
So what is better? Me or them?

Could I change myself, I would take the fear and moderate it a little. Could I change myself, I would moderate my optimistic part. Could I change myself, I would stay a robot. But then I already was and might become one again. So what could I even change, if everything is always like the way I would want it to be, but not at all the way I want to in the end. Only for a moment until the brain kicks in again and all is gone, broken, stupid, hopeless. A bright future without me, but without me it won’t happen, with me it wouldn’t as well. So I just have to go on because there is no choice? But then life began with death at the border. Why should I go back? Nothing makes it a good decision and I know that. This is the problem. I know it. Why do I know it, when I don’t know the things for sure? I know it all from several perspective, could discuss with myself, could calculate the best solution, but then I think it is all just imagination, nothing solid, nothing I could trust in. So I have nothing, if someone asks. I am stupid like a little child, while as a little child I might have understood more than most. What is this nonsense leading me to? Where? Who? Am I me or someone else? Who am I after all? Is it a joke, an image or the real me? Am I writing or just something, some data which wants out and the brain just writes, types and continues the wall of text. No end, no real beginning. An endless story of loss, hope and betrayal. My own way of life sucks, but then I would be different without the pressure, would I be? You see, I can’t trust myself for real. Because others questioned, others said I was wrong, when I wasn’t and others hurt me, so I betrayed myself and called myself stupid inside, so I don’t do what is wrong or right, I am just existing, without an opinion, without meaning. Just a soulless machine, working and not even good.

If at least my robotic me would do something good, I could say: “Well, it wasn’t all for nothing.” But no, it just makes things worse or just gets slower and slower because even a robot needs a battery recharge or some repairing here and there. Dead, neutral. Alive, dead. Neutrally dead. Rationally irrational. Logic is dead. Life is short and strange, out of my range. Where should the road go, when I could decide the direction? – Let the other one decide. What is the goal I am living for? – There is no goal. Just do what they want and try dying alongside the way.
Is there hope? – Yes.
Do I have hope? – No.
Can I go now? – No.
But I can’t stay? – Yes.
Can you help me? – Yes.
And how? – Yes.
Is this a Yes or no game? – Yes.
Wow… I should have talked to the wall… – Yes.

Door in the forest, in the wall

No way out, means no way in.
How did I get here in the first place?
If I got here, can I even win?
In the end all is a big disgrace.

With a room which has no doors,
How is there a way in or out?
Did I look up even one time?
Yes I did, but there was only dark light.

Is it just a state – are there other floors?
Does it matter when I wisper or shout?
The walls are plain, no way to climb.
But I know sometimes the light is bright.

Before it was even darker,
so I might have falls down inside,
there is no door because it wasn’t needed,
I came from above and will fly out again.

Just give me a marker,
I will pain you a forest,
I will pain you some wings,
so finally – to leave the pain.


Two weeks went by and I still didn’t change my decision, but then I can’t say it out loud anymore. It is stupid, got wronged again. Even though I know it feels right, felt right at least. I know it is probably the right way for me. But because I failed so much in the past, I can’t trust myself to do the right thing. Was it even failure? Nothing solid, nothing sure and everything I know, is right inside to be used. But no trust, no right, to use it. Like a curse, only use it, when no one listens, when no one knows. So you will stay stupid, stay broken, stay normal from the outside, depending on who you ask. Stay the intelligent one, the technicien, the writer or just the lost soul. Who am I to you? Am I an image or am I just what I make? Am I a solid statue in a garden full of flowers, but just static? Am I a always changing algorithm, no one can crack, no one really understands, but you still listen? What am I to you, wo am I to you? Am I me, am I you? Are we one? Do you have a clue? I sure have one, you know, I know too much. Nothing and everything. There is no door, just an open roof and mine is burning.

Margins will only end up as borders, as difference and then everything is just something else, while on the bottom line all are in some way the same, while being differet is the only way to be the same? Understand?
When I am not like you and you are not like me, we are the same because we are what we are.

I have too many words which have no real meaning from my brains perspective and still I am writing, writing it or something even over and over again. Isn’t it insane, isn’t is madness? I thought insanity would be, doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different outcome?

Make it count, I can’t make it count. It will always be filled with dispair and fear. Nothing solid, nothing strong. Only if you make it strong for yourself. From my perspective what I write is wrong, what I write could be right sometimes, but most of the time it is just meaningless. So therefor I write, to show how meaningless I am. (No, I am writing because I have to) Yes, sure… whatever you say.

In the end “The Almanac” will probably have all music which was every played and just came out. A collection of everything which is meaningful or has a message, except for the lines between the music. But that also isn’t true, so as I said, overthinking the overthinking is really scary, strange and dangerous. And a brain which has do process a lot all the time, but has nothing useful to process will think about everything to a point where everything fades into a dream. The minds who create great illusions are the ones which should solve the problems of the world, but then can’t even solve their own because it seems hopeless, while it isn’t. So I still stand in the forest, without a clue, while the answer are all around me, all inside me. But I just see the way out, if even.

Have you ever wondered, where your limits are? When you reach them, you know there aren’t any, but it feels like you reached it anyways. The limit is, when you can’t process the amount of data anymore, but you still want more and need more to process the previous data. So you end up mixing data, while processing. And then you understand everything and maybe nothing at all. So I hope you didn’t wonder to much, otherwise you might be lost like me. Not lost in a way, that I only see bad, but see all and all is too much for one to handle. And then I can only see while not facing my reality in the so called real world. Is it all wrong then? No, is it all helpful? I don’t know. I am doing it over and over again, to get a different result, while I actually know there can’t be one because I already have the results. Before I even started to try to get them.

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