Eight years ago i started this blog. I update it five updates a week. A maximum of five weeks of holiday a year. I have sold my house and lived on the proceeds for the remainder of the time. The last two years i moved from room to room. The last half year i lived in the house i live in now. For one more week. My money is running out. I have enough only for the next two months.
I am not crazy. I hope so anyway! I acted like this for a specific reason. Truth be told, this process is lasting longer than i expected. Now it is coming to a crunch time. The moment of truth. The point of no return.
I feel i need to pick a public life or a solitary life. That is not true of course, i could pick from a multitude of lives. A life in which i work, a life in which i protest against the current working climate. I could pick anything i want.
But what do i want? I could fall in love. I can sing songs. I will keep on working here. Photographs, dances, write columns, drawings. Or i stay in the hidden depths. Keep on working on myself. Until the day i die.
I just want to mean something to the world. But all i seem to do is loosing everything.
Am i fooling myself with these thoughts?
But what is the alternative? Do we all come in this world with no reason behind it, no story to tell. All a part of the same machinery. The capitalistic neoliberal hyper machine which is fragmenting the stories away from us. Is that it?
I don’t believe that.
What do i really really want? I would love to fall in love with somebody. Somebody who reminds me of me, but also entirely different. Somebody who leads his life as i do, with respect and attention to everything surrounding him.
But this post is not about him, it is about me. I am still waiting for someone to pick me up from this life. And that is not happening. It is as simple as that. I need to get out myself. It is no option anymore to live silently.