Every time I meet a person, I think about why it’s like this? Why is my behaviour programmed to destroy? Why am I drawn to people, but in the event of a positive outcome, I destroy what could be called friendship? The brain sometimes throws up such-and-such options, like answers to questions that I have to think about – yes or no. It just threw up the idea that I simply don’t want to be loved. That is, when you see that a person loves what you do – you try to break this connection so that it doesn’t exist. That’s not why you plan a life together with a person or something else that won’t happen. But you don’t want anything to happen that will hurt you in the end. Therefore, calculating any scheme, you come to the conclusion that it will be less painful to break the connection now than to get pain in the future. And you will get it, because people are not eternal. Not in the sense of life expectancy, but in the sense that their admiration for you disappears. And in its place grows emptiness, which eats you up like a cancerous tumor, only there have been too many such tumors on your heart throughout your life, and they all bleed like ulcers in the stomach.
I can relate to my marriage in different ways, but so far this is the only unconditional contact that exists on a common interest. All these years I have tried to build something similar with people, only with the exception of sex. I even had thoughts that it is easier to lead a life with three than with two, but the third person should complement the existing relationship, and this is difficult, because you cannot find something permanent even alone with some other person. Because people are always looking for something else. People always need more than you are able to give them.
In this vein, a second question arises – if for me creativity is, among other things, a search for kindred spirits, and I come to the conclusion that when I find someone, I push them away. Then why is all this for? What is the purpose of the idea itself? I like to do various strange things, but I could do them for myself, limiting myself to a blog at most. To sometimes make some notes.
Sometimes I think that we are all like those broken clocks in a workshop, each of which always shows the wrong time relative to the others. And finding two clocks that would show the same thing is simply physically impossible. So we are born to study the construction of this world for half our lives, and the other half of our lives to suffer from what we have learned. There was once a song, there were the words “Remember all this and live with pain.” I could never argue with them, because there are no arguments to prove the opposite.
Sometimes there are thoughts that I publish, but I didn’t want anyone to read them, or someone specific to read them. But more and more I come to the conclusion that there is no difference – who reads and what. Because in each individual case I have already made my decision. It always consists in the fact that I highlight my thoughts on this topic.
Once, around 15-17 years old, I liked to find some information about the people I communicate with. Because I was interested in people. I agreed to tell how I found out, but after that I always stopped communicating with them. That was the condition. Now such posts are probably something like the same.
Always remember..
Take off your mask and
Show me your heart, I
Wanna rip it to pieces
I know it will hurt but
I promise you that you
Will always remember this feeling
If it isn’t now, then when?
And tell me
If it isn’t me, then who the fuck is it?
Go sleep it off
You’ll miss your shot
You’ll miss your shot (c) Yonaka
Saint Creature