In the tradition of socially acceptable human behavior, or of a more highly regarded lifeform‘s, one does not own his life. Arguably, there is the question ‘why do I get to lead it then?’, and then you are stupid for asking. I agree that I do not own my own life: I live it, I control it, but it is not mine. Nor is it another person’s, or a group’s; nor is it belonging to society. Shouldn’t be. Should never ever be.
Maybe our lives belong to the circumstances of a great event. We owe responsibility to the way the world moves, how it secretly connects a part of ourselves, however little, to spur a bit more change in the next person, and I think maybe that is how we ‘touch’ other people. We do not know, and might not never know how we really touch another person, how we truly do, but maybe, well, there is a truth in how we have felt touched in ways we have not foreseen. So if it happened to us, it may well have happened to another, courtesy of us.
This might be a load of bull, but keep in mind that I don’t care because mainly I am the one writing.
So this thought just came on while I was deep into playing Injustice and cost me lives of some dearly beloved superheroes. Superheroes I cannot bear to even imagine getting pummeled, and it all being my fault made it more painful. Sad face here.
Recently I have made the decision to live the game. I want to live it as much as I want to, and therefore I have been playing it whenever I can. I can’t play it nonstop, because, well I have a job and I have a life and I have known games to consume lives and herald a void. Something new to fill, because it takes out some previously rooted thing and tries to…what am I saying? This game is a pastime and this is the end of it.
So basically, I am kind of feeling lonely, again, and being single is not the reason why. Please, it feels good being single: no responsibilities, no feelings, no movement, and no effort to try to understand another human being. I am a block of ice in human form, and whatever social occupations I have in my life right now, I treasure: family, friends, acquaintances, workmates, online anonymous people randomly bugging me, enemies and people I want to wring to death. I have my own source of money, I have my laptop and in here are movies that I love and have yet to see, my phone is beautiful and I have food with me. This is just something seasonal. Seasonal sadness, depression, the cold seeping into my bones, making me feel less human and more like a lump of, uhmm, something round(?).
I don’t know how I feel. If you’ve read something I wrote over six months ago, when I was still not single, I have had this trouble: I cannot map out clearly how I feel, or how I should feel about anything. Is this sadness? Hmmmaybe. On second thought, no it isn’t sadness. This is closer to being tired, and yet it is almost 3 in the morning and I have never been more alert. I’m not hungry; I just had a whole porterhouse steak, grilled pork and two cups of rice, all for dinner. With Sprite. So what is this, specifically? I am not frustrated, specifically, sexually frustrated because duh it is just not one of my things to worry about. Also because I just had sex.
Why? Why am I rambling about my life, I don’t even know why. Why am I writing, also I don’t know. It feels comforting to be able to just talk and at the same time, be perfectly quiet.
This is one of those long posts that I reveal so much with so little to conclude. Honestly I haven’t concluded anything. I can’t conclude anything tonight.
I am watching Star Wars. I am smoking. I am drinking tea. I am charging my phone. Days ago, things seemed clear and very well-connected. Now it all feels so, uhm, vague. Do I need alcohol?
What is it?