In this last " run " to the end of the year, I have deliberately decided to live a little fatalism. To start the days without longing for or expecting anything at all. As if it were an insipid, repetitive and innocuous repetition of a repetition. I have my reasons, of course, but I'll tell you right now that they're no big deal. I would like to be more elaborate, and therefore more interesting, but the truth is that it is not possible for me to be...
Treckage of a stormy rainy day. My footprints only show the disaster of an event that has filled everything with everything. I'd like to describe myself as a stoic but I'm far from maintaining that steadfastness and discipline? I am rather he raindrops are the excuse, and at the same time, the poetic licence that, as in the title, I deliberately choose to give free rein to what I have inside me. Which is neither extraordinary, nor innovative, but which has me totally in an alternative state of being. As if it were a test version of a programme or App. There are certain switches that are turned off. I can't find the switches to activate it, a certain joy and liveliness is no longer a guest in my abode.
For months I've been someone who sails, who wanders through the always over romanticised melancholy and darkness. Like a walk on the wreckage of a day of stormy rain. My footprints only show the disaster of an event that has filled everything with everything. I'd like to describe myself as a stoic but I'm far from maintaining that steadfastness and discipline? I am rather a cynic in decay. I try to approach utopia with one step but it takes two steps away.
I tried therapy. Maybe I assessed that the problem was me, who knows? I still went to the sessions, I told that I didn't want to be happy anymore. I told why, how and when. I followed the instructions, read the books and readings on apathy and depression, handled the tools they suggested, but still no effect. Being in my position is like repeating every day, three times, the same meal. Choose the one you are most passionate about, it doesn't matter.... The fact of having to "repeat" it every day, takes away, little by little, the magic...
Today it rained, I had already left the office.As usual I was on the sofa, some music playing and my mobile phone in my hand.I felt the drops sizzling, as I had left the window ajar. Faced with the downpour, I thought it was a beautiful setting to see if in something I used to be passionate about, like trying to take pictures, I could find some fire, some something.... And no, I didn't. Although I thought the photos looked decent.
Maybe it's a depressive state, maybe not. I don't know.I don't shed tears or bother others either.I just don't feel anything. Like when you equalize (or level something). That's what I am, and I share it with you. I don't wish to upset, or romanticise anything at all. I have done everything the text indicates and even more, but I still feel (actually, I don't feel) nothing. I hope you are light years away from something similar. It's neither good nor bad, it's just grey... And that shade doesn't excite too much, does it?
