December

My trials of the year are over. The days that were never supposed to come are gone but not forgotten. I remember the times, times of sadness and desperation, when I was alone, doomed to fail, just waiting for it all to come to a beautiful end. I was a sad little boy whose heart was full of love but who did not know how to live in this crazy world. So I stumbled along the path of miseries, wondering if it will always be this way, wasted life and love waiting for an end, not knowing how to become full. Frankly, I do not know who has created the criteria of good life, and I do not know why they even exist. But I wish I could deconstruct them, and create a world in which everyone could live by their own standards. Crazy thoughts of a wasted mind. Frankly, I do not care anymore.

The twilight arrives. I open my tired eyes, seeing something between light and darkness. Gently I caress her hair. "Your beauty has blinded me. All I am and have is because of you. I want to live only for you." Who I am and where am I at are insignificant right now. To know yourself, to know your purpose, to find a way. It all comes sooner or later.

The battle between life and death goes on within me. The paradox of existence lurks forever beneath the serenity of the everyday. Each day has its miseries. Great changes are ahead. The next year is unknown; it may bring sorrow or happiness. I do not know.

We find various ways to cope with our mindless existence. Some people find happiness in the small things of the everyday. They are mostly content, finding their happiness in another person or something like that. Others cling onto something. Their happiness depends on their addiction and their success with it. And then there are those unfortunate few who want to solve the great mysteries of life. They search for something bigger. Hardly ever do they succeed, and thus they remain sad, always searching for that something that would open their eyes and make them realize the purpose of being.

I have come a long way. This morning belongs to me. The next days are full of the beauty of nothingness; the greatest joy in life. To be or not to be. It does not matter.

 

home

I broke my tooth at the cafeteria the other day. A moment of lost thought; a lapse of reason. It's the price I had to pay for letting myself be distracted for a while. I searched for an empty space and my eyes slipped out of the way. A flash between the gone and the coming, radiating its consequences to the distances. A creation of the world I have created.

Another restless night. I am so tired I could let my self go and forget the world outside my existence. Short moments of sleep keep bothering me; the momets between dream and awake, blurry images between the real and the unreal. I float to the place beyond my consciousness, travel to the far away places where I cannot be but where I can dream. Dark shadows cover me, as I experience the life beyond the immediate flow of time. I meet my red-haired friend. Her beautiful eyes shine all the colors of the world. Despite what has happened to her, she laughs as if there was no tomorrow. But behind her happy face is a drop of sorrow; the sadness of the reality. A sense of lost love. I wake up before I can say that the beauty of existence comes from the realization of the inevitability of the sadness of the being. I had to go through the path of misery to find the garden in which I now am. The necessary connection between hope and despair, joy and woe, relief and suffering, emancipation and slavery. I wake up to the dark solitude of the morning; yesterday being nothing but a memory, another by-gone day in the past.

Sometimes our dreams and reality intertwine, creating an existence worth of pursuing. To get to that point, however, requires an almost endless journey of failures and misfortunes. But in the end it does not matter. At first my dark-haired friend was nothing but a reflection of everything I adored, a dream of a perfect being, someone who could make it all worth it. Then, suddenly and without a warning, she entered my life, changing everything and everyone, me included. And her beautiful blue eyes opened like an ocean before me, uncovering everything that once were hidden. After thirty years of solitude and agony, it all made perfect sense. I remember the times when I sat alone in my small apartment, watching the world through my window, wondering if it will always be this way, an existence yearning for non-existence. The paradox turned into reality. My eyes were opened. Now I sit here on my couch, watching the world through my window, but something has changed. I see it now. I see people going from one success to another, never realizing the structure of existence, never realizing the true beauty of the thing we call life. Those, on the other hand, who bear the burden of being on their hearts, walking on the path of sorrow day after day, trying to make the ends meet, are the ones who can figure out the purpose of existence. And after all the years of agony and self-annihilation, they see it all so clear before them. Being becomes existence. And then there's love in the never-ending river of sorrow. Home.

Some things go on forever. Others end like they never even were. Life is a tricky thing we should not take for granted. 

A small heart filled with love
suffocated like a wingless dove
tries to find his place to be
yet there's nothing but darkness to see

Somewhere in this crazy world
Another heart escapes through the door
Find a little cosy nest
In which it all turns out for the best

And so it goes...

To have and to hold

The past, the present, and the future intertwine. Another day that was never supposed to come approaches. Calmly I wait for the final hour, the moment that marks a crossroad on my path, a turning point towards the future. Maybe nothing will change. I do not know. A tapestry of visions opens up before me, as I try to make some sense out of my paradoxal existence.

Once I was alone; now I share my loneliness with someone. As the morning comes after a sleepless night, I wonder if it will always be this way; a being-for-other shared with another one, a common path of two lost souls, simply trying to make the best out of this mad world. Once I walked upon the path of misery, facing nothing but failure and misfortune. Now, when all that is in the past, I wonder if I can make myself something else than what I am. And a quick glimpse of her eyes says it all. There is no need to wonder anymore. Although the future is unknown, I can live with it, come what may. Who I am or who I thouhgt I was does not matter. I am everything of the past and of the future. Now and forever, together and alone, above and beneath, here and there; my existence comes into being.

I face my biggest fear, but that does not seem like a big deal anymore. The moment of anxiety is so short in the line of events, but it feels like eternity. Once I realize the madness of my existence, however, the anxiety eases.

From me to the world.

This world is a crazy place where we wonder without a clue, trying to survive.

Now, however, the line of existence is clear.

I do not want to kill time anymore; I want to live.

And you make it all worth it...

October

One morning passes once again without nothing special to do. I'm waiting for an inspiration. The colourful leafs are falling down outside, and the gentle rays of the autumn sun caress the nature. The gray sky above covers the moment. My love is away for a while, and I just sit and think about the world and my existence within it. The memories of the previous night make me feel warm. I'm so tired. I really could need some real vacation. There are too many things to do, but for some reason I can't get anything done. This month is an intermediary between the previous and the following one, both of which seem to have more meaning for the latter half of this year than this one. The autumn has come, and it fills everything with its colours and its all-covering shades of gray. My mind is empty; I really don't have anything to write. Yet I write anyhow, just to make this moment feel like it's worth it.

I had a strange dream last night. I met my red-haired friend, who was disappointed and sad because her dreams had not come true; a pursuit of a goal had failed. "Don't worry", I said, "simply try it again; this time just with more modest goals, and you'll make it". "I wish it was that simple", she said, "you don't understand my position". And I woke up to the twilight of the morning, feeling happy as ever.

The time of change is ahead. The past, the present, and the future intertwine. Right now I am where I am supposed to be. Am I going to the right direction? I guess I'll ust have to wait and see...

September

I feel the summer has come to its close. The never-ending flow of time has brought me to a new beginning once again. A temporal nothingness fills my existence at this cold morning. Without the nothingness, however, there could be no meaningful existence. So I lay down on my couch and stop thinking for a while.

A sense of being important. You and I. If only I could express my feelings in an understandable way.

If only I could write in English better.

My thoughts are nothing. The end is the beginning. I am who I am not and I am not who I am.

This society of idiots is killing me, but I don't what to be bothered by that anymore.

The horizon of possibilities opens up before me.

It all came in pieces; an incomprehensible puzzle that was coming but did not want to be understood until the time was right. And in the end it all entwines; being and nothingness, hope and desperation, the coming and not-coming, life and non-life, understanding and bad faith, existence and denial. Existence is created through the understanding of the unity of the subject and the object; to look, to see, to know, to understand. Life is simply misery, but there are ways to get over it. My existence is for-her, and for her only do I exist. The realization terrifies and emancipates at the same time. My knowing is now understanding.

I want to hold your hand if you ever feel like wanting to give in.

The only good thing about this letter is that no one will ever read it.

Well, it's September, and I am stuck between the past and the coming...

August

I've got no plans for the day; I'm simply waiting for the evening to come. I sit around without a care. Although the forthcoming fall will bring many challenges and problems, I have no time to worry about them right now. Life without a meaning is the most meaningful life. I have a purpose, though. If only the people who know me could understand my point of view. Maybe then they would stop forcing their own thoughts in my place, quit thinking that they know what I am thinking. To exist is everything. To exist is nothing. I wish people would realize that the criteria of being is conventional. Think about what you are thinking and don't tell me what to think. And so the morning goes...

A beautiful August morning greets me, as I sit on my couch without anything to do. It is weird how simple and small things can have a huge impact on the flow of existence. I'm getting old, but she keeps me young...

Maybe I should quit writing; it does not offer me much anymore. I'm lost for words. Don't think too much, but take the chances you've got. You might get hurt, but in the end it does not matter. Is that all I can say?

Loneliness still comforts me, but it is different now. Everything is different. The whole flow of the continuance of moments is different. And all I needed was something unpredictable. And yes, I've had the time of my life...

thoughtless

Imagine a day so careless it does not make sense. Finally you realize that the past has made you the one you are, and all of the worries of the bygone days are gone. The subject and the object becomes the same. You are one with the world that surrounds you. Sometimes the freedom of existence is simply too much to bear, and the anxiety takes your breath away. In the end, however, the self-annihilation and the utter hopelessness will teach you a valuable lesson about life. And there are no words to describe the moment...

Lost on the path of life. 

Sit by the river and close your eyes. 

Realize yourself in the between and make the best out of it..

Many of my dreams are lost. However, many of them have recently come true..life works in mysterious ways..

I don't make any sense, do I...but then, life is not rational, so there's no need to make sense all the time...so what am I to do...I close my eyes and take a moment for myself...

On the way home

I feel the flow of time. It covers me like an ocean, pushes me beyond my existence, beyond the world I observe, beyond my dreams. Once I walked through the graveyard of dreams. I mourned at the tombstones of the lost ones and thought about the bygone times. I remember a boy so sad and lonely; watching the world like an outsider who had fallen off the wagon and left far behind. Yearning for revenge, he lifted himself above consciousness, created a reality of his own, and began to plan for a sad and quiet end for it all. It all was supposed to end in loneliness and misery. Forgotten and alone I sat at the grave of my childhood and wondered how it had come to this.

The story of the past is now told. The end turned out to be very different as originally planned. Something came along the way. So long I waited; nothing happened. Now, there is one week to the day I thought would never come. The future is unwritten. I do not know what is going to happen, but I am very fine with that.

The subject and the object intertwines; I do exist. Why? I am not certain, but that does not matter. The self exists in the world for itself, and the other creates the meaning of the self-for-itself. Thus, everything comes together. Life without a purpose is life with the most important purpose of them all.

The purpose is to make the best out of the solitude and misery of the world. Once you realize you have found a place to be, you know the trick of it. Together or alone; as long as it makes sense. In the end it does not matter. The purpose of the being-there is to realize that there is no purpose. Then one can find the purpose.

I look into her beautiful blue eyes and say: "You give me the reason to live without a purpose. Thus, you are the purpose of my existence."

Being becomes existence, part 2

One look in to those eyes and everything loses its meaning. I have experienced the feeling of utter helplessness in front of a person before, but never before have I experienced the true sense of being close and experiencing the mutual relatedness, the mutual feeling of completely selfless, irrational love; the longing for surrendering completely to the other. I think someone wrote a long time ago that in a state of blind love the eye no longer objectivizes or annihilates the other. And that is precisely the feeling I think I have finally achieved. True freedom comes from the fact when one realizes that one is free to do whatever one wants, but one does not want to do anything else than surrender utterly and completely under the power of the other. And this infinite, irrational love is the purpose of being. The self realizes the inevitable freedom of being and the fact that in order to exist, the self has to face and practice this freedom. The feeling of bad faith disappears, when one gives up all the excuses of not being free and takes the responsibility of the existence of the self but also of the existence of the other. The restrictions of the world are finally left behind. The self realizes that it has to create the foundations of its existence. And then enters the other. The beautiful other; and the object of my desire becomes the sole purpose of my being, the sole purpose of my existence.

Many years I wondered around the world confused, lost and alone. Now I have finally found the purpose. I have found a way to finally understand who I am and why I live. I look at the beautiful blue eyes of my beloved. Carefully I caress her hair. I realize now what I was looking for. But the path of miseries and misfortunes was not for vain. I have come to realize how beautiful the world around us is. We are all alone, we are free to decide the grounds on which we stand, and we will have to face life as it is. There are obstacles in the way, and no one can be blamed for giving in to bad faith, because the misery of the world is strong and it is so easy to drown in it. Sometimes it is not fair to call the surrendering to the world as “bad faith”, because sometimes the weight of the world is beyond our capabilities to control it. We will have to make the best out of the mess we are in. The world is an irrational place, and we will have to do whatever it takes to make it through. Some will make it, will some will not. Life is arbitrary, and we will simply have to do our best in order to make it. One will have to make the best out of the misery one got. It is not easy to become emancipated from the chains of life, but should that happen, it is definitely worth it.   

At the dawn of a new day, I say “hi” to her, as we open our eyes and wake up from our sleep. The day goes by, slowly and without a care, and I do not find the time to worry about the present. After a well-spent evening we go to sleep, and let ourselves drown into the bliss of the night. I have had too many wasted mornings, days, evenings, and nights. Now it seems that I have come to realize what I have lost, but there is no reason to think about the wasted years. There are all the reasons to look to the future and what lies ahead. The times that will come are by no means easy, and I am not expecting them to be a victory march or a parade of glory. However, I will have to let the past be gone, find a new orientation to everything, and face whatever shall be on my path.

Knowledge becomes understanding. The moment when one realizes that it is all the same. The paradox is within the paradox, and the solution is there too. I have not yet found the answer, but I know now how to find it. I will not cease writing. I still have some analyzing to do. I know now who I am and why do I live; so maybe I will eventually find my way home, too.

Being becomes existence, part 1

Day by day, Hour by hour. Moment by moment. I focus on every step I take. The bright rays of the new sun of the spring blind my eyes. I feel the world awakening together with me on this Saturday morning. I have been too busy with everything lately, so I have not got the time to think about the world. I think about how the world is defined through the construction of values, and how we succumb to the bad faith, surrendering to the easy flow of the everyday world. I see people not wanting to face the responsibility of creating the world they live in. And therefore they take it all as given, take life for granted, and go on without realizing the deep purpose of the being.

The snow is melting. I approach the world from a new perspective. "Self analysis is not sickness", I say. But it does not matter; people have never understood me anyhow. "I am so glad that you are here with me", I say. And I feel the world opening itself up to me as I gaze into those beautiful blue eyes behind the fragile curtain of black hair. "I know you are so sensitive", I say. And the moment slips into the past and becomes history. A moment I cherish nonetheless, a moment that makes the life worth living after all.

I promise I will make my last statement before the point of change. For a few years now I have been on a path, on a journey to the end of the night, and now I feel the night is finally coming to its close, and the morning is about to begin. Before the end of the night, however, I want to sort out my thoughts. Just for the sake of the future. Just for the sake of clarity. The purpose of my journey has changed. I have changed. Some things are the same, however, and I feel as if I had to figure it all out, nevertheless. I still see suicide as a rational decision in this irrational world, yet the final moment for me has not come. I came so close, but then something very unexpected happened, something unpredictable. And in the end it was fine; it turned out for the best, after all. Though once I had lost my faith, I think I am ready to find it again.

Sein wird Dasein. All the definitions and the unrecognizable normative statements escape from my mind. I will get rid of the structures of humanity. It was about the self, after all. I see the sun swimming in the clear blue sky. The self realizing the existence of the being. I see the new grass growing among the last drops of snow of the bygone winter. Alone and together at the same time. The warm breeze of the early spring caresses my hair. Freedom and slavery intertwines. I close my eyes.  I see it now; my being is becoming my existence. I hope you had the time of your life....maybe it is worth it after all...to be continued...

Still winter

Days go by. I wonder where they all go. They flash before my eyes suddenly and without a warning. Once I sat in my empty apartment, wondering whether I'll make it through the winter, and now I sit at the same place wondering where did it all go. Each day I see how people carry on with their lives not knowing what to do or where to go. They think they have it all figured out, but they really have not. And so it goes, day after day, yer in year out. It is weird how people never really care about each other, although they always think of themselves as through the other. They think what they would do if they were in the other's place, they think what the other thinks of them. It is always through the other that people realize themselves, but it is always the self that people care of. Blessed are the few who find comfort outside of the self, and see life as it is; a meaningless and sad path of failures, misfortunes, and desperation. However, the real happiness can be found in the unconditional and selfless surrendering to the other, in the utter care for the other, and in the complete disregard of the self.

The beautiful white nature outside my window signals that there are many joyful moments for the day. My love has been gone for two months now, but soon she'll return. I wish I could explain my gratitude for her in plain and simple words, but I can't. Perhaps silence can be the best expression, though.

Too many years I wasted searching for the something that could make life worth living. I still remeber the days I spent wondering the great mysteries of life. In fact, however, I sometimes still find myself thinking about the same things, even if I now know I shouldn't. But that doesn't matter anymore. It's all the same now. I just wish I could find the strenght to go on, leave behind, to forgive and to forget. I wish I could forgive myself. Maybe someday I can.

No new thoughts today, I write on my diary. The bliss of the nothingness fulfils me, and the worries of the everyday suppress me. No new thoughts today. Maybe it's time to see what the world has to offer...

another sleepless night

Darkness all around. A shade occasionally makes a shape. A mixture of thoughts confuses my head. Too many things rush through my mind, and I cannot grasp any one of them. My heart beats like grazy. I'm sweating, lying and waiting. A warm wave of pressure sweeps over me. Waiting for the morning. These nights pass so quickly. Between a moment of real and unreal, of sleep and being awake. Why can't I get any sleep?

A tale of winter

A short moment of loneliness. No place to go. The nothingness of the being reveals a glimpse of itself to me. I remember the times when the blissful moments of nothingness in the between of the two passing points were my most cherished moments, and the grey sky above greeted me as I cherished my solitude in my fortress of despair and agony. Now those same moments bring me a temporal relief, but they also remind me of what has gone and what is yet to come. Now there is only one month of waiting until my love finally returns, and everything will once again be calm and beautiful.

The moment is at hands. There is still some winter to go, but the darkest time of the year is already behind. The sight behind the window does not give much inspiration to me. Why is it so hard to express myself? All my feelings and emotions are rioting, but I cannot find the words to put them in place. So I just sit and think of nothing, as if there was nothing better to do.

It's cold, white, and silent outside. People are too afraid to face themselves, and therefore they hide behind the facade of what they wish they were. They are too afraid to be what they are, and hence they live in the future of hopes and dreams, chasing the moment, without however realizing that they already live in it. I try not to be bothered by their existence. A lonely little bird has found something to eat on the ground. Snow falls from the trees. A gentle breeze of winter embraces my face. Moments pass by. A street opens itself up before me. "There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt..."