Thoughts that walk on abstract art

Sometimes when I’m walking among youngsters, I feel like my entire life has walked past me without looking at me. Then I realize how much I hate these kids because they make me jealous. No, at the end of the day, it’s not them that I hate. But it’s obvious who I do hate. The other day I was going through my memories, watching bits and pieces in a flashback. There are people from over ten years ago that I still think about. I wonder who they are now and where they are, but I wouldn’t want to meet them again. There is just no need to. Perhaps I’m saying this out of spite. Or don’t care. If the past is nothing but undigested food, then it’s not worth hurting over it. Throw up and have it done with. Sometimes I wish I was able to forget every single person that I have met. Most of them have set roots in my mind to ultimately make me feel guilty for what I might have said and done. Hostility is there to get rid of certain people. I’m not too fond of it when people expect too much from me. I know when it’s time to give. First, I have to make sure that you deserve it.
I like someone, but I don’t have the heart to ask him out. It’s not a girl’s job to do that anyway. Whenever I like someone, I imagine us being together. I need to get the impression of what the relationship would be like. In such cases, my imagination is a Schopenhauerian pessimist. This fucking prick prevents me from undertaking the first step of asking someone out. But ok, let’s be realistic. He would complicate my plans and my weekly schedule. I would neglect him, let him down or even abandon him when he needs me the most, and the entire guilty conscience fiasco would take on a new start!
Well, I can’t say really…I have no idea what my next relationship would look like and what a girlfriend I would be. Or maybe I’m just too curious and too scared at the same time. This time I will hurt the man before he gets the chance to hurt me – I keep hearing this in my head, and I don’t like it. If I hurt him and he forgives me, then he’s the one. And if he hurts me, he’s out of the game, unless you can give me ten good reasons why he should still be allowed to be on the ball. Come on; don’t take everything I say so seriously. I’m only honest for the moment. In fact, you have no idea what I would really do. So, uhm, should I ask him out and risk the awkwardness if he says no?
You should never connect your favourite songs with certain people. And if you do, the songs are cursed. Though, not always in a bad way. “Folsom Prison Blues” reminds me of Nick, and “Boulevard of broken dreams” reminds me of Matt. “Mr. Bright Side” reminds me of all the wonderful boys in the Student Union, such as Gary, Joe, Pete, Antony, etc. I can name a myriad of songs and tell you whom they remind me of. Still, I’m not going to, because it’s depressing. I will automatically look for that song and play it right away to face it and delve into my memory with that person in my head. Whenever I feel my heart is shallow, I like to remember all those men that I could never have or could have had. The ones that I could have had bothered me the most – self-explanatory. It’s like you missed out big time. There once was somebody who mistook my glass of blood with wine. The first sip didn’t suffice; he still thought it was wine. The moment the glass was empty, he realized what he’d done. I don’t want anything like that anymore, you know. The recovery process took way too long, but the blood transfusion was a success, thank God. But it has made me feel older, not wiser.
Apathy is a dangerous tool. Whenever you feel you need it, make sure you take a single bite of it and not more. You can waste so much of your precious time if you eat the whole thing up. I realized that a fruit salad digests better…
Modernism has taken on a new start since it seems to be the new era of broken dreams again. Everyone is broke and indecisive, and it’s contagious. People seem to have an elaborate image of what they want to be, but they lack motivation and belief. It’s sad to watch because I realize that I’m in the same boat. However, I surely don’t lack motivation and belief. I lack time and space, the only two things that will allow my creativity to reemerge.
I guess I shouldn’t ask him out.

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