I’ve been looking at this picture of a downward spiral for minutes. After a while, it feels like it has sucked me in. It looks creepy, but I can’t help staring.
My mind is in a dangerous state; it’s tempted to risk anything that might cause a drastic effect. The temptation is there, but it doesn’t mean that I will submit myself to it. I’ve missed out on many things, which is why these temptations haunt me. I don’t remember having made a pact with the devil, but he seems to know what I want. This must be why each night, I look under my bed before I go to sleep. I know I’m not a four-year-old anymore, but it doesn’t mean I’m not suffering from a four-year-old’s fears.
It started this summer…you know the story. I always hated mind games by people, and now my own mind started playing games with me. Sometimes I have the impression that I don’t want to know anything about myself. I’ve been feeling this inner calm that’s scaring the hell out of me because it’s so intense. The core of my body is ablaze and is controlling my nerves.
Often I close my eyes, and I see the core, which is yellow, bright yellow. I hate that colour; therefore, I don’t know why it’s buried inside me. How do you call a person who can’t get things done right and keeps making a mistake after another? Give me one good word to describe that person.
My performance at work is ragged. My boss describes me as stress-free, but she doesn’t know I get panic attacks when serving people. I get trouble breathing, trouble thinking straight. Nervousness, hectic and social anxiety are the reasons, but I work anyway. And people don’t notice a single thing on the outside. They think I’m orange juice on the inside, but the truth is – the core of my body is a grease fire. For years I’ve been wondering how to extinguish it.
The hole is deep. I need to learn how to breathe; even babies can do it. I chose to work anyway, even though I’m neglecting my creativity, my novel(s) and my peace of mind. It feels like I’ve pressed the self-destruct button. All the things around me don’t match who I am.
No, I can’t elaborate. I can’t define the paradox concerning me as a human being. I’m too neutral and too prejudiced at the same time; it’s horrendous.
Despite my misogynistic views, I stand by my gender. Still, I also encourage men to stand up for themselves and keep their pride so that certain women will hate me forever. (Taken women.) When these women feel threatened by me, I laugh. I’m terrible like that. It’s just ridiculous.
You are doomed to be free, so here you are, for fuck’s sake… Give people some room and privacy. No single minute should be wasted on jealousy or the fear that they might not love you anymore.
In the worst case, you can always find something better to do. You want to die like Hemingway, Woolf or Cobain? Whatever, but don’t do it at the wrong time and place and avoid dying like Socrates.
Try to have some fun first before doing anything you’ll regret. Now you might say it’s terrible to talk like that, but I’m pro-choice, so what do you want from me? I’m not encouraging people to do anything.
What I’m saying is: Life is in your hands, and so is death. That’s it.
Do you hate me? I hope so.
