Can anybody tell me why all of this is happening?
This morning, I woke up and I knew that everything was going to fall apart and it did. For the lasts nine months and for the lasts twenty years before, all I have done is trying to survive and I did. What would be different today would you ask? The answer is quite simple: I am tired, I am exhausted, I am so done that for the first time of my live, – I had that thought many times before – I really believe that only death will save me and death it will be unless one of our Mighty Gods decide otherwise. For the lasts twenty years, I didn’t bleed, I fought back and today, there is nothing left to fight for, not even love. Yes indeed, I live in a very lonely world.
Every day begins the same, waking up either too early or too late, the last dreamy wisps evaporating, leaving only vague recollections of my past, present and possible future, one cup of instant cold coffee tasting like a nightmare and then I am at my computer, my morning, evening, and afternoon, my only friend. Then, the nagging feeling that something better is waiting for me out there and the confusing feeling that my time would probably be best spent reading news all day, learning about the madness of the world since it’s so easy to have it shrink to the size of my personal experience. I want to be looking for jobs instead, jobs that will bring me into new social circles, but again, isn’t it what I have been doing for the lasts several months? And then, it is wakeup time again, and I am still wondering what I want to be today, what it would be like to stand at the perfect intersection of my dreams and skills. Who told me that I could be anything I wanted to be? I can’t remember.
One thing I know, the game is different than I was told it would be. I don’t even recognize the rules. Or, are there any rules? How do I win this game? Or isn’t it only life! Who’s on my team? Or do I have to stand and fight alone? And I wonder: what is happening to me? Things I believed are not anymore and opportunities are no longer knocking at my doors other then for me to become something I never thought I would be. This morning, again, making a difference seems secondary to making a living.
How many, do you think, have or experience the same feelings?
This is no reason to bomb anyone anywhere in the world, not even in Boston