You had one job …

… to live …

… but everyone said, there is just this and that.

Those brits, those romans, those civilized maggots. What do they know…

Human, you had one job… to love. And those who love die out.

I am also just a broken mess of being. Just enough sanity to realize, that most people aren’t in some way and others say they are, while they are the ones who have the biggest problems.

At least, if they are supporting this system called civilization.

I only want this mess of a life to be over because whenever I try to fight for my life, I get beaten down by others. I know why I started to do it myself when I was younger, because it was less painful. Because when I went against myself, I could do it all the way and it wasn’t enough. So everyone else who did something bad or sad something painful, wasn’t as strong as I myself. In some way I was then always winning because I was the strongest and most powerful in the fight against my life.

This year I found peace with myself, although some problems are still there. But the peace is there, it just almost each day gets broken by other people.

When I now scream, that I want to die, then I do it because I feel all this pain, because I can’t stand this trouble / double thinking mad mind of my father and all these complex things and weird ways in which people made life to be.

When I now scream, that God or death or whatever shall take me away, I mean it more than ever. But this time I know, that I also want to stay again. When the pain is gone again. This time I know for what I am fighting and it isn’t for me. When I was little I fought for myself and my mother. And maybe some friends. But now I am fighting for everyone I might help with what I do.

Because I found this love inside again, it hurts like hell because this is how the world feels. It isn’t what the love is all about. And that is why I collect everything I experienced in my life and also find new things.

I try to make things more clear, bring people together and not divided.

But from the outside it might seem, that I can’t even help my own family. My mother is broken in her own way, trying to fight her battles and I am in my way. Because this life broke us and my father doesn’t let us really live.

From outside he tells people that he just want to help us and then he does things which could be seen as such. But you have to understand, that he is just like a neighbor for us. Because we actually lived 9 years away from him in a flat. The marriage and family only existed on the paper for the most part. And now he says, that we should be thankful, while he actually was never really thankful for anything.

He praid to his God (or whatever he believes) for 10 years to get a woman. And then he just decided to talk and write with three or more at the same time. All about a relationship. Then he even gets one who is too broken at that point, to realize how sick my father was and is (my mother). She even did what he wanted, even went to work instead of him, while he then complained and said, that there are other women. Said that I am the problem and complained that he had to live with us, meaning that in his eyes we were bad or annoying or whatever.

He was the one, everyone helped. Of course when he was younger, he also had problems, a broken family and all that… I know. But when he had the chance, he could have just went away be free and live.

Instead he decided to make his own family even more broken.

He even complains that I am not playing his father’s role because I am now living in his father’s house, instead of him. My father of course says it in other words, but when you ask some questions it gets clearer. He apologizes probably each day or at least hundred times a month. But these were empty words since I was little.

This man, THIS MAN, tells me and my mother that we should be thankful.

A woman who gave up her whole life because of him. A woman who would have done everything for him and did a lot. A son who was smart, full of love and joy running towards life. Who was even bringing life and love into other people’s hearts. A child which could handle itself for the most part. A child which wasn’t as loud as most children and didn’t even scream as a baby. My mother sometimes checked on me because she was worried I wasn’t alive because I was so silent.

A perfect situation and all he could do, was running to his parents, going to his God service meetings (not only on sundays but even on other days, whenever there was anything in reach). This father tells his son something about “doing things together” and “apologizing” and “love” and “work”.

He even told me today, that I should feel guilty because my mother has to work because I don’t. Just because I didn’t work since January because one month before I even tried to kill myself. Because I couldn’t stand all this madness, pressure, stress, problems … and because I always just did what others wanted. Except for my little safe place with my computers or my mind. Almost everything I could and sometimes did say about him is he throwing back at me. And I know it, but it still hurts. And it hurts even more that except for my mother and maybe a few people out there, people here don’t seem to understand it. Or don’t want to get involved with it.

They all don’t know what they are missing. What a great time they could have with me, when I feel free and can do what I want, I can climb mountains or whatever. But then everyone just wants that I should work because I have no excuse like everyone else. Funny how my father can stay at home for 20 years and let others work and suffer for him, but when my mother needs help, it is not important. Or when I scream, people think I am crazy. Funny… funny… how fun is a ….

Today I placed a small cross like thing on the border (on my side) between my property and my father’s. Just two small sticks formed like cross. I then wanted to put a sign on it, but it didn’t really hold. I wrote on it the following:



Which means something like: “Here rests hope, she died at last.”

I did it because I promised him, that I would put a staff or something on his ground, when he doesn’t let us in peace. And he didn’t, so I at least placed this small thing (but on my ground).

I also told him, that I don’t know what he will do in one year, but that I will be away by then. And I mean it because I can’t even imagine surviving with this madness for the next months, at least sometimes. And I can’t imagine me surviving this another year. 22 years are enough, in either way.

I have seen everything (of which I wish I haven’t seen many things).

I have felt almost all layers of pain, fear and death. Although I didn’t die yet.

My body might be young, might be healthier than others (I don’t know and also don’t want to know). But it was enough to know, that I got a surgery with 20 because gall stones almost killed me. My soul is tired, old and deeply in pain. But this year I also see the good things again, to a point which scares me. Because I feel as if I am in the middle of the whole dream because reality fades away, as if all I see is just what I wanted. I know that it isn’t what I wanted. But all these people and things made me believe that I am the problem.

I still would want my father to be free, there is still a part of me which hopes that he might see through all of his madness. Rare moments when he seems to see through, but only a few minutes or hours in a year.

And boy… no one has to tell me that I shouldn’t waste my love on someone who treated me and my mother like that. I wouldn’t go near him, if it wouldn’t be for him always walking into our house, not letting us be…

I would wish that he could see what could have been and what he had and still has. Even though, if it would be for me, I would want him to be alone forever. But this small part of me knows, that it will only be worse for me then. Because then my father would probably try everything to get us back, like he did the last times when we got away.

He had 60 years to train manipulation, to find ways to complain and live in a misery. And I would help him, if I could. But he doesn’t want it. At least he can’t be as broken as me and my mother, otherwise he wouldn’t find all this energy to do all these exhausting pointless things. Like walking around our house, cleaning the front door, while no one asked him to do so. And then even tell us, whether we would do it, if he doesn’t. As if he knows what is right… and what we want or should do.

And no, if you tell him that he shouldn’t care even if my house would burn down, he still walks over there. He always finds a way to make it right for him and to play us out as idiots. Because he is of course the one who knows everything.

When I talk about “knowing everything” I just mean, that I know what matters in life. That you should have something to fight for, that there are people like you somewhere out there or that I know things can get so damn hard, that hell seems like a safe place (because I often thought that this life must be hell). First you get told that you should have fun, only to get told that you now have to work till you die. Fun. Isn’t it?

As if life was only to serve, to pressure, to wait to die.

I know that there is more to it all because when I embraced death, death didn’t accept me (yet). Others fear death and I couldn’t meet my end far enough. I don’t know what comes then, but I thought, it can’t be much worse than now.

But yep… this is why I am here. To tell something. To show something.

And I mean, if someone tries to tell me, that I shouldn’t joke about suicide or death. … I am not joking. If my life would have been just about me alone and I would have been faced with the decision: Live or die? As a child going into elementary school, I would have chosen “die”. Not because I didn’t know what good could be, but actually because I knew and also knew that I would never be able to have it. So from an egoistic perspective, I would have been dead for around 13-14 years now or at least since then I really wished to die (since when I was around 8 years old).

No matter what you tell me, I have either seen or at least thought about it. At least when it comes to the questions of life, the patterns of existence, science, religion, believes, hopes, philosophy and so on.

I had too much time inside my head and almost no time to share it with anyone. And my mother couldn’t really understand it and also had too much trouble on her own because of the way how “helping” my father was.

In his world everything is okay, as long as he said the words: “I am sorry.” or “Accept my apology.” and if you don’t he calls you a bad person. I mean, would you accept the apology of someone who will do something similar the next day anyways? What is the point of it then?

I mean he even uses the bible as an excuse, because somewhere in there it says that “You have to forgive 7 times 7 times” or something like that each day. I mean, I know what it means for me, but he thinks, that he can do whatever he wants and then ask for apology and then everything is fine.

Is this kindergarden or what?! I know that he suffered as well. But whenever me and my mother tried to help him, he only made our lives even harder and more painful. Often in a smart way, so that other people would think that he actually helps us. And it is complicated because sometimes we actually got help from him… because it is all so messed up.

I didn’t want this, my mother didn’t want this and really. When someone tries to scare me with death, they should scare me with life. Because often it seems to be more a lie that there could be actual life than death.

But I know there could be life, I just wish that some people will find it. I don’t need it, I just don’t want that no one will find it. And I also don’t want that anyone should be there alone forever. Thoughts about being alone can lead you to the thought of complete loneliness. As if except for yourself, nothing exists and then it just hurts… it just feels all so pointless. And then it seems as if no matter what I do, it will only get worse. And I know this can’t be it, shouldn’t be it. Otherwise I really shouldn’t exist, if we are all just one big thing and no matter what we do, we will always be one playing games with ourselves. Should this really be it, which is totally possible in my head, then I am really just talking with myself. All the time… forever. Forever myself. Forever alone. But then even I (the little me) played with imaginary friends. So I could still have fun playing with myself. But this world can’t be my creation. So I can’t be the problem. I would have never wanted such a thing. So much hate, pain and suffering. When I was a child, I didn’t want this, so why should this be forever? We humans think too much about nonsense, like getting a job, working, retirement, paper work, education, health, progress, schedules, media, work, work work… that we forget why we actually do it in the first place.

Why do you live?

I lived to live. To see nature, to meet new people. I lived to make others laugh and have a good time. I lived to see everything, try out things and explore. I lived, but I wasn’t meant to live and I knew I would die, when I get older. So I wanted to die even earlier because I thought, if that would be the whole point, then why waiting for it, suffering decades…

I hoped that at some point people would understand that there is so so much more. But in my dreams it always ended either with me ruling the world or no one understood me and I ended up crazy, hated and then dead.

Because I couldn’t hope for a “normal” way anymore because of what I have experienced, seen and felt.

At least I wrote a lot and shared something with this world and some people like you. I want to die because this life is dead because I want to live for real and not just in imagination.

The people don’t understand, that since I was a child, all I stayed for was them. That the only reason I am living is because I tried to find solutions. Because I didn’t want others to get hurt like I was. I had good times as well, but it never took this thought away, that I knew I wouldn’t be able to do what they want, when I would get older. That I wasn’t meant for it.

I can work all day, all night in the name of love. I can if there is someone who really needs something only I can do or at least only I would do this special way. But I can’t work, to just work. I can’t work for money. People don’t understand this. I know. But it hurts me only to think about money.

People always think in terms of money and how some things can only be afforded with a certain amount of it. All this bullshit. Because if things would only work with money, then we live in a world full of devils. In the world I am dreaming of, we wouldn’t need such things because we would give each other the freedom we actually want. Usually this would mean to be happy in nature, to do some experiments and reinvent some wheels. And have fun with each other. And then making food and cleaning up wouldn’t be all that much of a big problem. Because we would want each other to feel good. But people confuse a must, with freedom.

And because of this, you think you need money to be free. But money is only numbers on a screen. So if you tell me, that you need money to live, you tell me, that you need (more or less) fictional numbers on a screen in order to live. In other words, you have no idea what life means.

Or do you see monkeys and lions trade bananas against dollars and yen?

Maybe if you see people as animals… but you know what I mean, right?

OF COURSE we currently have money and all this shit. But if you can only live WITH money, then how would you be able to live WITHOUT? How would you be able to live at all? I mean, if someone would just put you into an empty box and tell you: “You can do whatever you want!”

What would you do?

I now imagine people playing games where they have unlimited money…

And this is why I think, that I maybe am alone, in case the whole existence is just a dream of an almighty spirit. But there are many ways to see it all…

I just usually feel like spongebob in this episode (or others), but in real life.

When I am talking about “alone” I mean it in an universal and ultimative way. Like, I feel like the only being in existence. Not always, luckily, but way too often. Other people also feel alone, but for me it is more as if I am everyone. I know that this is not the case, at least not in a way I sometimes feel it. And either way it freaks me out. But I just want to have us.

I don’t need to know much about the way or the why. I just want to be and be there with a lot of others. Others who also want to be free.

But then it feels as if I will break everything. I know it comes from all what happened to and around me. Still, it will only go away, when I either found a way together with you or I might be gone forever (whatever this means).

If only I could flip the switch in everyones mind, so that they would be able to see. But I am scared, that this is the whole point of it all and that when I reach that, the whole point of life would be over and it would start all over again. I mean, scary, crazy and weird. But these are the things I am scared of, while others are scared of death or grades or a job interview…

This is why I preffer love as the point of life because love is a feeling, a wish, a hope and home. But only if it is the real one, the one without conditions. Sadly these days you are usually confronted with the conditional one. At least in society, inside the system. Why does it always have to be so dead…

Why can’t we just love everyone. At some point someone started to make people feel hurt. Then they did hurt others and so on. And I feel as if I failed because I couldn’t even help my father who lived in hate and religious fanatism or whatever weird concepts he got told and started to believe.

I can only convince myself that I didn’t fail, when I come back to God is love. So when it says: “God doesn’t force you.” it would mean, love doesn’t force you. So if my father doesn’t understand love, doesn’t want love, then I can’t help him. I will only get hurt as well as my mother when she tries herself. God knows we tried.

But my father keeps thinking that we are in the wrong, that we are evil and unthankful and whatsoever. I just can’t anymore… I can’t stand all this madness.

Why can’t we just live… JUST live…

Oh I know why…. because some geniuses killed all the animals, burned all the forests and care more about their money numbers than what actually matters.

How much is a dollar worth on Jupiter or Sirius? Tell me…

If God (the love) would have been your creator. You wouldn’t ever want to stand in its way. Why would you, if everything would be good. The humans had to find love for themselves. But it is still so little. And everyone who is weak has so much of it. And then others make them suffer, hate them and think they are a burden, a problem, just weak and worthless.

They don’t know what life is all about, I can only cry and hope they will find out.

I don’t want the people like me to die because a part of me knows that I can’t be all alone, at least not from where my possibilities are. Otherwise I would be in hell, where life keeps spinning round and round on the same patterns.

Just let us be free, we could have so much fun. And just exploring a whole earth full of lifeforms, plants, animals, stones and water. Playing games, building things. So much we could do… but we are so busy building up that civilization. For what, for whom? The more we go away from nature, the more we act like machines, the more sick we get because we aren’t meant to be machines.

I don’t want to think about these things. But one has to, I guess… so at least it was me and maybe some of you, but not everyone. I hope that next year I will have something more than this. But I fear, that I could also be gone by then. I stay for the people and for the hope. Otherwise I would be long gone.

But I even fear that I might just get reborn and then the whole hell would start again… as if there would be no escape and I couldn’t do anything about it. I hope this will end in a good way, meaning that I might be able to stay with you and rediscover life. Life “without” humans. Without the ones who just see with their eyes, but not their hearts.

“The human sees what is in front of them, but God sees the heart.” (Love)

Sadly it feels as if I am only supposed to stay in my mind. Without a word, an action, except it serves the needs of others or the system. Sometimes I think, that I might only find a big monolith standing there in the middle of the government buildings. While everyone thinks that people are working there. As if a monolith would be our master, as if humans weren’t able to do things in a peaceful way without rules. While these rules actually cause most of the problems. It started well, maybe… but now we serve the rules or those who shape them. Instead of following the hearts we have.

It is hard to fight alone… it sometimes or always makes you want to die.

But I am staying for some reason. At least as long as some people out there need me. I need nothing on this world, nothing but the things which are not here. At least not in a way they should be present. Like love…

Why can’t there be a forest full of ferries?

Why can’t there be a world full of color?

Why can’t there be a world without just two or three sides?

Because it is easier to have everything under control when there is not much to think about.

But what is control for, other than manipulation and suppression?

Have you ever seen a tree holding back a squirrel?

Have you ever seen a bird building a gun, just to scare another bird away?

I don’t know what dreams you have, but I have never seen such a thing.

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