Just passing through

Do you remember waking up as a child, hoping that time would go fast so that you would be an adult by tomorrow? I used to fantasise about running away as soon as I turned 18. And I did run away. To England. For a second, it felt like it had never happened or like a book that I’d read ten years ago, but I don’t remember the content.

I stopped reading my first diary entry (dated March 1995) after the first sentence. I don’t ever want to go back there, yet I must, but now is not the time. One day I will let go, and by letting go, I mean letting go of roughly 33 diaries full of bullshit that one day I’ll have to swallow like castor oil. It’s not quite the time for repentance or self-forgiveness. I am nowhere near ready.

The longer I stay here, the more flaws I seem to discover about myself. Therefore, this chapter has to end. I have no response to anything that I’m encountering, whether good or bad, as if I’m not evolving into anyone wiser. I’m just passing through. I’ve always just been passing through London.

I keep trying to create any delusion to stimulate my brain, but the only motivation I have is this song in a minor key, ensuring that all I need to do is write. The void has become too big and needs feeding. It eats fast; its favourite dish is my thought about you, which luckily is a mixture of protein and carbohydrates. It takes a while to digest. You are a heavy dish. Once I have you on the plate, I am free from this void. So stay with me for a little longer.

One day it will eat me, but I won’t blame you.

Two days ago, I ate a dead mini mosquito that was stuck on my caramelized macadamia.

And when I arrived home, I buried a dead green dragonfly that had been run over by a car. My dad used to catch dragonflies and attach them to a piece of string so they wouldn’t escape. Seeing all these dead insects lately (flies, bumblebees, snails, worms), I can tell that autumn is on its way. It’s going to be a peaceful kill, though. Despite all the butterflies…

I will get my personal one tomorrow.

I need to stop hiding under Nietzsche’s curtains and finally do my own talking. I’m tired of my fears. When I looked at how Celine defended herself confidently in arguments, I wish I could do the same thing.

He used to say I freeze like Todd Anderson during arguments, which is true. It’s related to intrinsic values and other fears – irrational fears.

To defend myself, I have a string of obstacles to tackle and a long way to hike. Hopefully, it will at least keep me in good shape.

I’ve passed through so many lives lately and only for such a short period of time, and I’m sorry to leave so abruptly. I don’t know for how long they will keep my footprint in their memory, for I’m only a passerby and always will be.

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