It’s easy, just … Nope

When I asked or talked with other people about things, it often turned out to be “easy”. At least for them. You just do this and that and done.

Example: You want a bigger room? Just break the wall.

Reality: Oh, but in your case this isn’t working.

Basic answer to most of the questions about changing something or getting something. And it is true that this of course wasn’t and isn’t always the case, but it was way too often. To a point where my brain learned that nothing is THAT easy and that I will never have an easy life.

As if everything is meant to fail and not work, for everyone else of course, but not for me and my mother.

What brings me back from this perspective, is the fact that there are so many people (sadly) who have a lot more problems and horror in their life. But that also doesn’t solve the problem(s). It sometimes even makes it stronger because then it seems even more pointless and hopeless to do something. As if I have to accept, that this is it and I just have to wait for the final hour, if you know what I mean.

With every trial to go against this, it only got worse.

We moved out – people didn’t know why – we got convinced to go back.

We moved out again – not far away enough – problem was still there.

My grandfather died – I got his house – we were convinced to go back.

Now I have a house, my father and a lot of new problems because the house is older and could need some changes soon, which I can’t afford.

Even if my father isn’t arround, I don’t want to go outside.

I mean I live in my own house, but the neighbors just recently asked where I am, whether I am studying or something. I was probably just some hands full of times in my own garden during this 3 years I live in it.

My father lives in the house next to mine because this is how my grandfather built them.

So for other people and also me – when I switch into the perspective of other people – it’s easy, just sell the house and move away.

I know that, but guess what, my brain doesn’t trust it.

My brain learned, that things aren’t this easy for me, while many other people seem to have “easy” problems and “easy” solutions.

My brain thinks, that probably in my case the price of the house could be very low because of the things which have to be done. Also because of the location. Maybe it isn’t but my brain is not able to think, that it is easy.

I imagine something like this:

???: Oh, the house looks pretty good from outside. Good in shape. Let’s see what is inside.

???: Hm, oh this is a little small. And also all these things. I don’t know.

???: Oh, the heating is pretty old, this has to be replaced soon.

???: And the rooms upstairs aren’t really isolated, that is not too good when it comes to cold and heat.

???: And what is this? The toilet room is small, has a small window and then the pipes are even connected in a way, that should the pipe get blocked, the water will flow into an underground water room, used for the plants. Great… what else is there, which isn’t all that practical and maybe even legal?

???: Ah, the pipe from the toilet doesn’t go to the nearby street, it actually goes to the other house and then to the actual wastewater pipe system. Great… Good that these are two properties now.

???: Anything left, you didn’t tell me?

Me: Eh… the electricity is dangerous.

???: What do you mean?

Me: The light in the roof even glims sometimes, even when the light is switched off.

???: Oooh?! How is that?

Me: I am not sure, but some of the wires must be not well isolated, so some current “jumps” over, even if circuit is not active, or shouldn’t be.

???: Well… how much do you want?

Me: <number>

???: No, that is way too much. I think I will ask somewhere else.

Me: …

Well, this conversation was too good. But luckily it was just a thought or mind game, on how an actual conversation with a possible buyer or estate agent could go. Puiih, I almost thought it was real. (Not really, but I mean yeah, I guess this could happen.)

So when someone says: Just sell the house and move away, that could be not too easy in my case. I can only hope for someone who either doesn’t ask all these questions or who is willing to take the burden. Because even if you would break the whole thing down, I guess you wouldn’t be allowed to build a new house because of the laws in my country or region. Ain’t all that easy… man.

So I can again just pray and hope for a solution in the future.


Back in secondary school some girls asked me, why I was always writing so dark and sad poems and things. I don’t know what I answered. It is the hopelessness…

Luckily I found some hope again in the past months and I started to see many things from another view. I mean I also did that in the past, but not that clear and not most of the time. When I now see a weird painting, I think about the one who made it. I see the potential and the inspiration, the power and intentions. Maybe even talent. But most importantly the beauty and diversity and soul.

Be it music, movies, books, paintings, and many more. I mean even someone selling food in an imbiss has a story. The guy sitting at the street corner with his winter jacket, has a story, lives a life, has a soul.

I always knew that, but because of the pressure, sorrow and pain I got into, I forgot about it and lost my sense for it. As a little child I was open and full of joy and love towards other people and ideas. Now I started to see things this way again, but it is pretty hard. I am not sure whether I can stabilize it, even in a new environment. Maybe in one, in which I have people more like me or at least who are on the same level in a way. Most people in my area or in general, aren’t like this. In the past I chose to be quiet, to not say what I was thinking about. Instead I was telling them what I thought they want to hear, just to not be called “weird” or “stupid” again. Eventhough from my perspective many people were acting stupid and weird. But in the end I was actually weird and stupid, maybe still. I know just one thing for sure, I am (still) broken.

It’s easy, just … Nope…

Sorry for my sad and strange words all the time. I often feel like a downer, who usually talks things to a point to which people are either tired, down or annoyed. I know this is not true because I am naturally (born as) a positive and happy soul, with a lot of empathy. I think it is like asking someone who lost both his legs to run a marathon. Maybe with good prosthesis, sciene got some pretty interesting developments in the last years, but you know what I mean, right?

I still have everything, except this gall thing, but I feel like an old man or woman, soon to be dead. Sometimes I feel like a child, sometimes just like a robot. I know way too many things and they made it only worse, even though many of them were meant to make it easier or to cheer me up.

Like this:

???: Look, you are just a little ant compared to the earth and not a tiny little dot in the milky way (and so on).

Me: Yeah, I know, this makes my life even more pointless.

???: No, this is not what I meant.

Me: I know, but I can’t help it.

???: Look, everyone has a reason to live.

Me: Oh, so people who died by suicide were meant to just kill themselves?

???: What?! Nooo.

Me: I know… But please just stop. It is pointless.

???: …

The good thing is, that I am not always like this.

The sad thing is, that I am not sure whether this is good or bad.

No actually, the sad thing is, that I feel as if even if I go somewhere else, that because of what my brain learned and my heart felt, I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it or change a lot. I know that I can and that it all is possible, but I seems as if it can’t be true in my case and for so many other people.

???: Just take this pill and you will see, everything is easier.

Me: No… I know it wouldn’t change the actual problems.

???: You didn’t even try.

Me: I don’t need to try it, I played it through in my mind. Like smoking, I played it through as an elementary school kid and came to the conclusion that I would want to smoke and couldn’t stop it, so I said to myself: “You never accept a cigarette and never start smoking yourself.” And to this day, I am not a smoker, but I like to breath in smoke sometimes, when I was with people who did smoke.

???: Eh….

Me: Just forget about it, Doc.

These conversations all never happened, they just developed while I was writing. Just in case you think, that I was writing actual dialogues this time.

Thank you music. Thanks for calming me. 🙂

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