i have never not been sad
i have always been more sensitive than anyone i know
at my best times i was only mildly depressed
worst times i chose to die
sometimes i feel like living
my operating window is very narrow

i like dirty things
broken things
worn down surfaces
minds and items at their breaking point
that’s what i relate to
happy birthday parties make me remember i’m an alien send here for some reason

everyday i think; is it me or is it the others

i used to think myself unique, a tormented hero, maybe a genius even

i’m getting older

much, much more cynical

i no longer think i’m unique, heroic or anything: i’m just one more beaver programmed to build a dam

a god dam

hah! xa xa xa

that joke is from beavis and butthead do america, a good movie from early nineties, when i was ripping holes on my jeans and learning to masturbate

my young horny mind was programmed in the nineties, so my taste in beauty and hotness is all based on the women of eighties and nineties: high cut pants, those dreamy and hazy film camera eyes

growing up in the miserable finnish countryside was such a disappointment, there were very few girls, just cold earth and scary forests. shiver. i hate my childhood and everything about it. thank lord for the few existing ladies in the countryside for their hospitality, without them my life would have been absolute garbage.

i was a chubby boy at first: i loved every possible treat (escapism since day one baby), but then one boy in a swimming pool told me i’m fat, and i spent the next summer not eating. i read if u dont eat your stomach shrinks, so that’s what i did. it worked, i kicked a football alone to a wall all day and avoided eating. in evenings i watched hulk or some shit and drank cocacola.

so i became skinny, weak and dizzy

now hundred years later i got chubby again after all the fucking stress and existential thread that has beaten me down. i’m losing the battle.

i was happy once, for 5 years

out of 40 years 5 have been good, and now i cling to those years and cry and cannot move on

typical

the golden years loser always talking about that one time when he felt alright

i miss those years so much my heart has been breaking daily for 4 years now

jeesus christ

but im friendly and nice
i’m kind
except when i feel attacked
and my neurotic mind reads many things as an attack

but i don’t fight
i just disappear

i’ve had many friends

i used to be a truck driver in my youth

i hated that job so much, i still see nightmares from it constantly, 15 years later

it wasn’t my own choice, i was manipulated and coerced into it, and i was weak and knew nothing and couldn’t stand up for myself at all: i just obeyed

for 5 years i barely slept (pro tip: if u already suffer from insomnia, do not become a truck driver)
my health got fucked and i haven’t been the same since. one evening in autumn of 2009 something in me snapped, like a cord from my brain to my body broke, i became dizzy and my legs went weak. no amount of checks in hospital and doctors office resulted in any explanation, it seems my mind broke i guess. after that my ability to work has been shit, i have no tolerance for stress and i get exhausted quickly — except when i have my manic episodes, praise the lord for those

i grew up, and lived my early adulthood without the internet, so i knew absolutely nothing about where the clitoris was, or what depression and anxiety were. i was driving the truck, barely able to breathe, feeling like i was going to pass out, my face tingling, my lips numb. in hindsight, i had panic/anxiety attacks daily for 5 years and didn’t do anything about it, well expect Algul when i had a day off. if i had 2 weeks of holiday, i drank every day for two weeks. i was an idiot and i feel shame for it, but also, i had no other examples, i imitated my surroundings and obeyed what i had been taught. also, being drunk of course was the only time i felt good.

i thought myself too dumb to do anything else, but eventually started adult high school and got good scores, and started to think i’m smart. after reading couple of books i already wanted to change the whole world and help people with smartness. eventually i’ve learned, whatever new thing i learn or realize, someone has already written a book about it. i might be kind of capable or even little bit smart, but i’m also all over the place, too emotional, intellectually lazy, and worst of all traumatized and angry in a way that makes me very prone to follow any kind of person claiming to be a “rebel”. i get fooled into things easily.

truck driving is kind of an example, for a moment i thought we were rebels and so on, while in reality we were servants breaking our minds and bodies for 13 dollars an hour.

im a history geek, not because i love history, but because history to me is the ultimate mindfuck

think about this metro station, how many millions, or tens or hundreds of millions of people have taken the metro from here? what happened to all of them, what was the combined weight of their emotions?

where did they all go, how were their lives? how many people have waited for the metro here, with love in their heart, going to meet someone, feeling more alive than ever?

i remember feeling like i was surfing underground, with my knees slightly bent, air rushing in from the open windows, the walls of the tunnel visible, the train swaying under my feet