You know I have been feelin’ obsolete lately, if that is the right word. Like I have no purpose in this fucking life and I have this great people around me with, I don’t know, greatness in them. And I am sitting here watching series like I am just an observer in this life. Like purpose is not to achieve greatness but witness it.
I have been dwelling on these thoughts for a while now. 10 years. How do I know it’s 10 years? I have found my pocket notebook from highschool. From 2015. And I honestly I was kind of shocked to read those words . What I had written about me and well about her and the others and like I was fucking shocked. Like I knew I was fucked back than and I am fucked still but I never seriously realized the amount of fuckery that was going on in my head back then and how I carry those patterns with me today. How I get obsessed and weird and how I feel I wear masks over mask on my personality and how keep my composure when I am fucked but It feels like fucking hell hole inside. And the blade seems shiny and cold enough to show it in my fucking arm and get done with the all of it. I mean the fucking bear man that fucking show.
I like this kind of show. It’s fucking raw you know. It feels like a hell hole but the way it runs and navigates through that feelings and emotions and the story of the characters. Wow man wow. It feels like whole lotta family to me, that show.
Normally, normally, I aspire to be the main character you know. Like when you watch Naruto, and you want to be the Hokage too. You wanna train better. Be better. Go on a journey. No. This time my eyes were on Richie for some reason. I felt him man. Felt. Him. With all these people around, and their passions and goals and ideas to get them to new heights, I focused on Richie. 45 year old nothing per se. With great people skills. The episode with his wife. S2E6. Fuck I felt the desperation in him. The lack of power and skill. Seeking refuge in the arms of a woman. Fuck all I was thinking on that scene “No wonder they got divorced after the birth of their child. This woman can not raise a child and be a mother to her husband”. I just can’t get that scene out of my head man. And than the fork. Doing things over and over again and exploring the value of service. 1 Episode of character arc and it was beautiful. That excitement of waking up before the alarm because you are ready to take on the day. And that dread which sits on your chest when you know it is the last day. Oh fuck. That was a beautiful scene. Not only because I can relate to it because every fucking morning of my life for the past couple of months was like that but the scene that came after was actually refreshing to my eyes. That that 7 days of “stage ” changed him. Even though he felt dread when he woke up, and he acted like a child the night before, he fucking cleaned the mass and I respect that. He showed slow but steady improvement. He found value and respect with himself. That scene showed that. That the care he took in the job finally showed itself in his home. He finally found a value within himself. Beautiful cinema guys. Beautiful cinema.
Now that I got that off my chest, I would. I wanna… I’d like to sa something. I failed today. I failed on my chores. I failed on my life. I failed on my decisions a little. I failed on my promisses that was given to myself and what’s ironic is that I felt like that before (and I have a flair for the dramatic tbh). A lot. I know that not because of my awareness but because I have found “promises” I made in my note book. Signed by me, with blood. Yeah, blood. Not a metaphor. I remembered when I saw those pages. “I will keep the promises that I made to myself”. Signed, and put on a thumbprint with blood. The look is anticlimactic though. It is not read, it is brown. Maybe parchments keep the blood better but I suspects it is the prop department’ doing. Real life shit, not looks just as good.
So I have been feeling like this for the past 10 years. I have failed to break out of this loop. I don’t know if my friends are proud of me. I know my family is. But I myself, trying to keep an objective look on myself, doesn’t feel that. I mean I have a giant ego I know that but it is not pride. I am not proud of myself. Really. And I don’t want to dwell on this anymore because I see “other people” my friends also carry some kind of fucked up shit with them every day and they don’t let those shit break them down. They of course need an outlet time to time but they just keep fucking moving on and I am staying where I am. Dwelling on this show that I call “my life”. Maybe I do not wann special you know. I read a quote occasionally. “You are unique, just like anybody else”. My mind man. It is fucking weird. Not like a psycho-killer becoming an unsub in some federal investigation type o weird but weird and sometimes I do not like that. It is playing with me like fuck what do I even fcking talking about here man, like my mind has it’s own persona. Fuck me jesus christ. I hate this bullshit.
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