Content Warning: The following contains explicit sexual descriptions, strong language, and raw reflections on mental health. Presented unedited for authenticity. Reader discretion advised.
Well what can I say. It looks like you finally found the right place. Your search is over. Say goodbye to all your problems. Let me introduce you to your new best friend. His name is Markus.
A man reaches a point in his life where the things that used to excite him, just don’t really do it anymore. You walk around. You look at how lost everyone is. How everyone wants to be somewhere else. And when they get there, they are not really there. They are there physically. But that is seemingly unbearable so they drink and laugh and fill the space with useless dialogue.
I don’t wanna blame anyone for my hatred. I don’t know where I go it. Did someone infect me with this? It seems to come from my brain. The more I try to do the right thing and study the world, the more I hate everything. Do you ever stand in a supermarket, staring at the vegetables and feel like you wanna just burn the whole world to nothingness?
I’ve been vegan again for almost 30 days. I read a book that convinved me that animal proteins and vegetable oils are toxic for humans. But I feel the same as before. I still feel inflamed and insane. In fact, I feel worse.
I moved back to the town where I was born. Rented a place I got through my uncle’s friend. They happened to be looking for someone new when I brought it up at christmas while visiting relatives.
This was a stupid choice. I don’t understand how I can live in this world like this. I just make choices with a one day span of future or past. I have no plan or strategy for anything. I just want to play guitar and read books all day while listening to records.
I’ve lost interest in people and sex. Sometimes I get horny and then masturbate to some dumb bitch in my head. I imagine them getting fucked by a really fat cock. And images of me fucking them alternate with some porn scenes I have in my memory. That’s the only way I can get myself to ejaculate. And I don’t wanna get prostate cancer so I release my load every few days. But it’s getting less and less. I feel so disgusted after I do this. Why do I have to have this digusting body that shits and cums and pisses and vomits.
It’s hard to make sense of all the studies. There are experts that disagree. And although there seems to be a consensus on some topics, then you read some well written book or article where someone says something contradictory. And i’m too lazy to actually go into the actual studies and make up my own mind about what is and what isn’t.
Even though I live as a recluse. It’s the same as anybody. I distract myself for most of the day to avoid confronting emptiness. Emptiness is like death. So we just kill time and survive until we fall asleep. Every human is essentially a junkie to distraction. Whether that’s heroin or fighting a war or making a new movie or working at the hotel reception, it’s all the same. For your brain. Your brain just wants something to keep it occupied. It wants constant hits of pleasure and things to look forward to. It needs some kind of plan for the day.
I’m at war with my own brain. Or my brain is at war with me. Who is me? I don’t know who or what I am. I am just this blob of actions and thoughts. I write these words but I don’t think about it. I think with writing and playing guitar and singing to an internal audience of warring selves. There’s no purpose to anything. This is just life. And one day I will be gone. I don’t believe in anything after death. I would be relieved to die. Yet I am also afraid of it.
I want to get drunk or high. I feel awful. I hate this fucking life and this whole world. Everything is just so god damn pointless. I am writing because I thought it would bring me some comfort. But it hasn’t. It has proven to be a mirror showing me what a loser I am. I am world champion loser. I have no friends. Nobody to call and even if I did, I have no credit on my phone. It says emergency calls only.
I’m now thinking about making one of those emergency calls. Hi there. How can I help you. I don’t know. I just wanted to call someone and hear someone’s voice. Or maybe I can lie that I am hurt. Then the ambulance will come and I will say that the pain went away. This is what my life has come to.
Thank God it’s getting closer to 5PM so I can watch Downton Abbey for the rest of the day. I love that show. I get lost in the characters and their trivial dramas. I don’t allow myself to watch videos until 5. Before that I practise my music and read and go for a walk and try to keep my shit together. It’s getting harder and harder.
It’s saturday. People are excited about the evening. Going out to get drunk and dance and fuck and eat shit and talk shit and think shit and lie to themselves that this is what it’s all about.
I’m gonna stay home. Although I want to go out into the shit too. I want to drink like nothing matters except the moment. There is some kind of beauty to that. No wait that is not true. My mind is fucking with me again. But I am a great drunk. I wonder what that says about me.
I quit drinking 100+ days ago. I quit everything. I want to quit more. I am addicted to quitting things. That is my drug. I want to quit being me. I want to quit quitting. I want this noise and madness to end.
I can’t fucking take it anymore.
This is the worst day of my shitty life.
This anxiety is making me horny.
