Lines, words, letters. [6]

Nothing meaningful, unless for you it is.

(Audio book version)

Her cat she really loved, got hit by a car, two years after she and her mother had moved out. The cat probably wanted to know where they went, often moved over the main road and one day got hit by a car. They didn‘t even call anyone, maybe didn‘t even notice. The man who gave them the cat, found it dead next to the road. The cat stayed with the father because he somehow wanted the cat and also there weren‘t any big animals allowed in the flat. Such a shame, it was one of the most intelligent, good-hearted and coolest cats in the world, a red haired male cat, with a little white.

Too bright for this world, so she thought. But she couldn‘t really cry anymore when she heard about it, when her mother told her. Because of the one bullying her in school. She got to a secondary school, but to the same school and same class, her feelings were exhausted. In the beginning she cried, but after some time it was just enough. After the 6th grade her feelings seemed to fade, slowly at first, but they already started to, when she was still in elementary school. Each year, was one year next to death, next to work, next to death, yes, she had not much hope for a bright future. She couldn‘t even remember having hopes, but there were also some bright days of course. There always are, sometimes. But way too short, way too few. And in the end, maybe she had more than she could count, but didn‘t really notice because her feelings were already dead.

When she first had seen porn at a friends house in elementary school, she didn‘t know what it was. She sure knew it was adult stuff and that this way babies would be made somehow, but it was weird, strange and made her feel awkward, uneasy. Even in the 5th or 6th grade someone in her class had porn on their cell phone. But she just didn‘t understand, what it really was about. But since elementary school she started to imitate the things she saw. Also what she had seen on TV, when she was watching late or other channels. She also „reprogrammed“ the TV at some point, deleted channels, moved them in order, even activated and deactivated the child secure system her parents didn‘t even know existed or how it all worked. But it was her grandparents TV, her father would have never allowed a TV, it was the devils machine. In some way he was right, but not in the way he thought or said it or did what he did, hitting her for watching TV. Later on he somehow accepted it, but always walked in to check what she was watching, so she changed the channel, when she knew he was about to enter. Not all was good for her, for sure. But otherwise she also wouldn‘t have survived. Some TV series just helped her move on, to dream a little.

But maybe she just had a complete different childhood and her mind is just playing tricks on her.

It always does and now she is in some kind of clinic, getting drugs to be quiet.

Time to sleep.

Pages 16 – 18 of Lines, words, letters.


It is like, when I didn’t want to live, I “just” was depressed and everything was hopeless. But then when I want to live, everything gets horrible and even worse because I remember, why I gave up and everything is kinda hopeless. At least some good moments when I wasn’t thinking much and just was having a good time. Maybe some weeks, some days, some hours. If this is all there is, this life is one to go crazy. Many are, why? The answer is already there, but I don’t want to get in that spiral again, just let me forget the painful thought, let it be wrong in some way, better. But it is like as if it is how it is, how it is in my head. And while I never actually wanted that, just wanted to live a more or less happy life or just not that strange, I had to go crazy, I had to go this deep to hide, only to get scared and horrified again. So now both sides – inside and outside my head – are horrible. So what else there is than just laugh, like a crazy one, right? But then I wouldn’t be able to laugh, so just keep quiet, I guess. And even that is something I can’t do. (Me writing strange comments to a strange book in a strange blog, because I am pretty messed up or something.) Sorry…

Eh yeah, not how I feel right now, actually more like the opposite, but thanks YouTube.

This one is more like it. I guess for me it is like, I learned, I learned, I learned, I wanted to forget, I forgot, I wanted to know again, I am broken. I want to forget again, I learn how to forget… and all over again. Life heh… I guess it is not meant for me in a good way. I guess I was actually meant to die a long time ago. And then maybe not, so that I can write it down. I don’t know. If I would just have to survive this pain, but no, I had to get into thinking again, while I actually wanted to never think. I knew why I broke my mind even more when I was little. I knew why I didn’t want to think or be smart. It kills me. From the outside it might not look like this, but I feel like as if I am too smart, but not in a (I know every data), but in a I understand every complex concept and even simple things if I have to.

It is like, can I just not think that much please?

Oh man… I really don’t know anymore… I feel like vomiting again. You really don’t want to understand everything, because I can tell you, it isn’t worth it. But I just wasn’t asked whether I want to know, I somehow got pushed into it. Now I have to handle it or die because of it, what in some way is also handling it, but in a bad way, I guess.

But what do I know, right? (I hope it is all just in my head, but it doesn’t feel like that.)

And so just that you know. This is no fun for me. This is no joke for me. This is actually freaking me out. But then I think, maybe everyone feels like this sometimes, maybe I am just the weird one again, who thinks it is worse for him, but it is just “normal”. I guess it isn’t, but these thoughts man… I know this is crazy in some way, I know. But now I just can’t stop thinking again because it got triggered again. I guess I can either find a positive thing to hold on or it breaks me. Maybe I get in an accident or something and then forget things. who knows. But all I want is to help people who are lost and also love myself and just live, whatever there is I am still living for. It isn’t me, is it? I died a long time ago. I don’t know what exactly will happen in the future, but for me it is more like, I somehow can imagine everything what could happen. It is like the only thing is that I don’t know which of these things will actually happen, but I have some ideas which point into some directions, so what is more likely to happen. And I just don’t want to know these things, see these things, feel these things. I just want to be with people who understand or who just cheer me up, who just help me get away from this, even if it is true. It doesn’t help me. Knowledge doesn’t help you at one point, or wisdom. It only helps when there is either a limit to what you think or you somehow can handle it in a good way. Otherwise you get crazy or die one way or another. Not everyone is in this, not everyone thinks this way. I know and I am glad for it, otherwise I would have to think that everyone is just playing a game, while I am the freak, not getting it because I can’t play by the rules. I had to get behind the screen, had to get behind the code, had to get behind how everything works. Not meaning I can explain it all to you, but I feel it, I see it, I know it somehow.

Okay sorry, these comments are way too dark and broken. Maybe I should delete them, when I can do it. Maybe I should have stayed with my original plan: Die or go completely crazy, so that you can’t harm anyone else anymore. Maybe that actually was my role, but I couldn’t even do that. What a broken life…

And I know this all sounds crazy, I know… and it freaks me out.

I felt like crying several times during this talk, but I couldn’t again. It is too painful again to feel and I still feel my stomach, my belly being heavy, being painful and like vomiting or screaming. But I just sit there, quiet, almost emotionless again. Some weeks ago it wasn’t like this, it was good to feel, it felt good to feel. Now it feels bad again because I know it would kill me. (But don’t you want to die?) No, not if I can actually get out of this in a good way, like I thought and tried to the last months.

I am sorry, I love you. I pray for you, that at least you can get well, stay well and hopefully get better, are better than me. God save us because we reached the end of the horizon and there was just another beginning. I am deeply sorry… I guess if by any chance I can stop writing these comments, I will. In the end it might only destroy people. I can only hope it doesn’t. :-/

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