Insight from a Madman
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I have the unfortunate curse of having split personalities. The hardest thing in the world is to look in the mirror and realize that you’re not you. To realize that there is someone with your face walking around and living life while you are shoved to the background.
You know those nights where you’re too in love to sleep?
I think I’ve had too many for what seems like no reason.
When I was younger, I had a very specific set of plans for my life. Most people would call them dreams, but that word can’t apply to them. These weren’t things that I wished for or wanted to reach, they were things that were going to happen. There was no room for error nor space for adjustments.
At some point, these changed. I like to believe that, as I matured, my plans matured as well. I realize that this is not the truth. At some point I realized that my plans didn’t have someone else.
In talking about their plans for the future, people often talk about a silhouette in the imaginary photos. A dark figure who will eventually be replaced by the image of the one they love. My plans never had that. There were people whose images would fade in and out, as if they would be briefly in my life, their blurry profiles slipping out of my life after a matter of days, weeks, or months.
I have no idea at which point the plan went from being something that I believed to a habit which was ingrained in my head. In the recent past, I have come to understand that none of these things matter. They would be nice to achieve and if I reach one or all of them, I will be truly grateful.
But I don’t need them.
I need a girl. The same one who I’ve been chasing for 10 years. I need the girl who is in my imagination and my dreams, I need the girl that will actually make all of my plans worthwhile.
Ever since I was little I have loved looking at the faces of the people that I pass while in the car. I don’t know why it is different from the people that I see in passing when I am anywhere else, but it feels different. It is someone who is in your life for less than an instant, but in that instant they can change everything. Their grief can lead to an accident, their generosity can turn your day around, or their passing can simply make you wonder…
Sometimes I miss the days where I feel like dancing.
I hate dancing.
I need to fix whatever is wrong with me, I haven’t written anything I’ve liked in months…
There is a made-up religion in a fictional book that makes perfect sense. It is a religion that bases nothing on stories or on people. A religion that forces optimism. There is no belief in eternal damnation nor in eternal glory. It is a religion wholly to make your life better and to keep you arrogant and humble at the same time.