I give up.

You know what? Fuck it ALL. Fuck everything sideways.

I give up. Life wins. White flag time. I am through with trying to figure things ojut. I am done with trying to control outcomes via the power of my mind. I am finished with the constant, destructive self-analysis and judgment that stretches on and on like and endless autopsy, or should I say biopsy, as the patient is still, techincally, alive.

I just don’t care any more. I don’t care why I do things, oir who I am, or even what I am any more. I am sick and tired of trying to perform surgery on myself in order to get rid of the bad parts.

Fuck it. It’s all good. It’s all me. Even the depression is me. Bad stuff, good stuff, boring stuff, crazy stuff, it’s all just me in different maskis.

But I am not my masks. I am he who wears the masks. And if you see nothing when you peep through the eyeholes, just empty space, know that this is by intention and that the masks you know are not even my real masks.

The real masks are the ones that conceal my true self and they make me disappear.

Back to the point. I get lost in my own lyricism sometimes.

As if you didn’t know.

What I am saying is that I am giving up on trying to control things by mentally dominating them via the overwhelming force of my intellect..Predict, manipulate, arrange, analyze, and voila, you are the master of your life.

Fuck that. I can’t do that. Nobody can. It’s insane to think you can.

I am especially giving up on judging myself by the results. Setting yourself an impossible goal then judging yourself by your inability to do the impossible is the very definition of madness.

I also give up on always trying to see the big picture. Fuck the big picture. I hereby make my life small and fuck the greater context and “what is really going on”.

Whatever. Who cares. What does that have to do with my life? Nothing. Fuck soothing my pains via intellectualization and detachment and an Olympian point of view.

And fuck the past. It’s gone. None of it matters because it’s me, in the present, who is deciding what to do with my life,. and I am free to make the decisions that suit me.

I am sick and tired of getting frostbite every time the sun goes down up here on my Philosopher’s Mountain. Sure, the view is amazing. I can see so much from here..

But I am cold and I am lonely and I am tired and I just want to go home, wrap myself in a warm blanket, and go to where it’s warm because there’s people.

I am just a simple animal like anyone else, and it’s okay for me to be normal., at least some of the time. I don’t have to be a shining star or a freak of nature 24/7/365. It’s okay for me to be merely human.

In fact, it’s probably the best thing for me.

I just want to be a person with a life. Someone who does not worry about the big picture and focuses instead on his own life and how he can make it better. Someone who takes positive steps to improve his life.

And someone who does not spend a lot of time worrying about whether he is doing the “right” thing or making the “smart” choice. I just plain don’t give a shit any more. Smart, stupid. right, wrong. I don’t give a shit as long as I get on with it.

I have banked my fires for long enough. It is time to write on the sky with words of blood and fire, and carve my messages into the side of a mountain.

so I give up. From now on, I am going to do whatever seems like a good idea at the time,and suffer the consequences with a cheerful fatalism, knowing that I am learning lessons every time I get knocked down.

Then I get up again.

You’re not ever gonna keep me down.

Whatever happens, I want to keep on striving. I want to stay connected. I want to be a part of things. I want to remain among the living.


Time gap! I needed to lay down.

I am not feeling so good. I feel very woozy. It’sa lot like that feeling you get when you just got off a carnival ride and the lquid in your inner ear is still moving.

Plus I have this weird shaken up feeling like I’d had a nasty shock.

So, you know. That’s a thing now. I guess.

I have tried to clear my ears several times but it doesn’t seem to change things much/. So much for the “sinus fluid blocking ear dranage” theory of the crime.

Well if this is some psychosomatic (attic insane) bullshit my depression is pulling in order to discourage me away from all this radical resistance, I can tell it right now, it ain’t gonna work. I am through with all the fucking games my depression plays with me and I am officially calling on my id to rise up and bludgeon that fucked up superego into submission by brute strength and sheer force of will weilding a club made of raw primitive emotions and decades of impacted rage.

I’m pretty goddamned amazing. And I have nothing to be ashamed of.

I need to make that my new mantra : I have nothing to be ashamed of, I have nothing to be ashamed of, I have nothing….

Maybe if I repeat it often enough, I will start to believe it. Not “knowing what the right answer is” type knowing. I mean more like “knowing how to walk” knowing.

But that is for future me to worry about. Right now I gotta lay down before I fall down.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.