25 Oct

It's bizarre how a mere ‘sick’ reaction of another human can launch the repetitive thought cycle over something buried, intentionally rejected as being a pivotal component of growing up. 

Thinking over a decade of presumably formative years, that ended with me starting to fix shifts — huge resentment towards parents, alienation from peers and friends, distress with the environment and what it offered (nothing except dullness); escapism to the imaginary future, I’m supposedly in now, addiction to romantic loves and music, all these. All these came along with listening to "Heroes" by Bowie and Eno 20 times in a row, just as years back. If I could physically cry I would cry. But this mechanism is currently in hibernation. Sad detail, just as everything in this life.

I strongly don't like thinking backward, I firmly prefer thinking forward. Assuming the existence of only two opposites — one either sunk into the individual or communal past or deny those proceedings, as a futurist. In this system of coordinates, I’m of the second. But maybe some pragmatism of ‘owning’ past in a smart way, to move further in an ingenious way, might be healthier.


“We're nothing, and nothing will help us

Maybe we're lying, then you better not stay

But we could be safer, just for one day” (c)

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