In the past couple of years I have essentially been cut off from the universe. I have made one for myself. My own small, no, tiny universe. It's awful. The problem was essentially that I moved around too much and never got to have any friends. None. And by the time I finally got back home, I have lost the ones I had originally. So here I am, stuck, alone, with myself. It's not good. And I keep making mistakes when I talk to other people. I have forgotten, and I mean totally forgotten how to behave with friends, or even people. I just turned towards myself more and more, eventually closing all doors and all windows, and now... I am alone. It's very weird to realise this has happened. Very weird.
For instance, I have trouble knowing when and how to behave. I know there is no such thing as "normal", but unfortunately, there are limits and those limits must be respected. I, however, sometimes go over those limits, without even realising that I have done so. I get very nervous or angry with people for no reason. I tell them tales I shouldn't. Anyway, who do you tell stuff like problems with your girlfriend? Who do you tell problems with your health? And what exactly do you tell when you do? I am very confused. I need a friend I can trust, but there are no such people. None. Really. What is trust anyway? You tell them stuff,and then? They don't tell others? Or they tell you what they think? I am not convinced even if both were the case I would tell things to people: they don't tell others, fine, but that's not something positive, just something not negative. And about their opinions: why would they make any difference? The reason I would tell people about things is maybe only so they would console me. But their consolation is always fake. Fake from the start. How could they understand? They don't even know the problems deep enough, just the surface, what I was able to tell them in an hour or two. And if I tell them for long? What would that help? So then they would know about everything -- maybe they don't want to know about everything. Actually, most people get very bored of stuff, no matter how interesting. And anyway, even 'everything' wouldn't be everything. There would certainly be stuff missing here-and-there, because you simply forgot to tell. So they are not good for consolation, for understanding, for anything, really. So I wonder, why should I need them? And at the same time, I feel like being really-really lonely. Just very lonely, and many-many things are working against me.
The best part of this all is that I should feel lucky. I like my work, and I do have success in my work, though lately less and less often. I get paid OK for what I do, and I get to have enough free time. Free time that I have no clue how to use. I used to like to go to museums and exhibitions and read books and watch really quality films. I no longer enjoy doing any of those. In fact, I don't feel like doing anything sometimes, and I just watch stupid youtube videos to pass the time. Actually, that's not sometimes. That's always. It bothers me. What has changed? I am also struggling to find some goals in life. Maybe it goes absolutely nowhere? We just live here on earth, do our stupid things to earn money, eat, sleep, and finally die? What's it all for? But really. And the worst part is, when I hurt people. Then why the hell am I here? To hurt them?
I don't seem to make many people happy. In fact, I rarely do. I used to be funny. I used to be very funny. In fact, I think I could have been a stand-up comedian. I used to practice doing it, and it was working very well. Mostly with women I wanted to chat up but I could never muster the courage, so I just entertained them with how stupid I am, and how clumsy. Somehow, they never got the subtle comment that, in fact, I fancied them. It never worked out. I wonder why. I was being nice at least. They usually went for the very 'bold' ones instead, where by 'bold' I mean the ones who are simply rude and stupid. It somehow attracts people when someone behaves as if he/she knew what he/she was doing. But to be honest, I think most intelligent, sensitive people are very confused about what they really want to do. So the best they can do is act as-if. Which is fake. All of this is quite fake. Which reminds me of the comment by Shakespeare that all of this is just a giant theater. But if it is, why would I participate?
I wonder where I should get energy from. Fly somewhere? What would that change? Meet people? No, thanks. A good friend, maybe. A good friend. But who? I never really had one. Maybe two, maybe. More like one. And even that one... I can't remember him. I mean, I know who he is, but no tales that I remember. Just some vague memories us playing badminton once. I like badminton. It relaxes me. I should do that, maybe. But what would it change? I would still be the person I am: hard to get close to, hard to talk to and hard to enjoy sharing any space with. I feel like I am just a pain to a lot of people. They endure me, but that's all. Which is nice of them, but still. Sometimes I think about a girl I once talked to. She had a progressive disease and at that point she was stuck to a wheelchair and couldn't really move around. She was very kind. Really kind. You could feel that she just wanted you to have a good time talking, and didn't want you to think about her disease. I think she is probably already dead. I feel like I am her. I tell everyone that everything is fine, but no, nothing is really fine.
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