Am I sad? Am I in pain? Maybe. But that is not the pain I can totally accept and enjoy, no. I am tired. Tired of debating about view of world, even with old schoolmates who just have put some likes to your selfies and then you look through her page and leave a comment on one of the posts (so common words that the people who complain about modern time and saying everything was better earlier, are not right; I still wonder why no one thinks about mental side of this question, but only material progress??) Ain't I right that the information stream nowadays, especially in Internet, is too much, with needless garbage, no filter, for anyone may write and post any bullshit they want here?
On the one side, you have more access to information, possibilities to self-education, When you want to know something you are interested in, you usually stumble upon some kind of annoing slang, trolling, advertisment and stereotypes. And all this mess is updating, growing and changing without stops! It may be good, but I'd prefer to have a full file before my eyes to operate with, not a shapeless pile of everything at once. If download what you need (but - you cannot know exactly it it what you look for!) and switch off the Net to take a better look...the thing is not as much in the scheme of acts, but in this uncertain feeling
I feel no friendship, no real attention to personal thoughts and feelings during such discussions. I get tired and have no intention to continue it anymore. Why do I even start it? Almost nobody understood me and even talked with me as delicate, as I try to behave at first.
More and more, as a result of such experience, I miss my old passion, Sir Murrillo (nickname). He refused to waste the time on social resourses and if we could make friends, meet again...somehow, I bet I'd be happy - it would help me in compare with what I am now, as I know how carefull and deep he is. Musician, asocial nerd studing architecture - exactly what I need. Unfortunately, I nave made a mistake torwards him already and I simply can't allow bother him.
However, the pain I felt yesterday, when I read on one forum that everyone consider insane and despise the girl in case if she waits faithfully for 8 years...it was the pain of sertainty, at least! The pain for thing that must be appreciated, anyway, by someone at least! The river of tears and thunder of heartache was like expression, some kind of consolation after it. (no, during it, better say)
So, I am in pain, with a stone (what? stone looks nicer) face, without tears to wash away all the unseen stress. I think I shoud do what I only may do in such situations, though it is a miserable help. To write a song or a poem. If I only had enough time. And why do I complain? There is a lot of my guilt. Why can't I make myseld finally do this damned homework without surfing my accounts, tests and music? Then I could create something carefully, watch some of the movies I planed to long ago, or simply read a book. In silence, relaxed.
Wish someday to forget about the net, go somewhere to the forests, castles, mountains...maybe even deserts. To feel free and pure, without need to wait and to demand of someone respest, admiration, approval.
And as for style, music? So much arguing about what to count 'true' or not, instead of listening and feeling, to care for beauty and meanings, so many stupid gossips around everything.
P.S. Some people cheer me up for a while, I mean presenters of one of my favourite TV travel shows. So fun to watch them in different countries and places around the world, communicating with the locals - in their original way directly, open-hearted. Especially one I like most of all - seems such women attract me as they are similar to my mother, who died when I was 16 - tall, blonde, friendly, with specific sence of humor. And recently I discovered new hurting feeling first - she only fancies men. Though of course, I don't ever expect to meet her in reality, it surprisingly rather insults.
I would never say everything that's on my mind and in my heart. Too much. Too plain till it is buried and too complicated exhumated and explored. Contradictions are increasing like cancer cells. But if it stops I feel myself useless, like brain is getting empty. Yes, I am mad, but madness is the only power to get closer to the truth. I must stop here.