"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."

"Let the moon's shining light hide two lovers with its rays

Though I know that dawn will set us on course for separate ways

I will hold this night in memory for all my living days

Now unmasked, I feel your skin on mine."

Resting above the water

(Copyrights belong to me - Old, old, really old photos of a place that exists no longer in anywhere else than in my memories) 

(Copyrights belong to me) 

I've been thinking about my relationship with the rest of the human-race and I still cannot help but to feel like an outsider.

This is one of the things that never stops bothering me. And I keep wondering am I the only one who feels this way, that is it normal or not.

And one of the reasons why I'm writing about this, again, is that I'm trying to make sense of this feeling. I can't understand the way people think, I am the one who likes things other people don't seem to like and in TV-shows and movies I am constantly puzzled by people's actions and motives. Real life puzzles me too, of course, but I am not in contact with many real-life people who puzzle me as much, maybe because I am used to those people. New people though never get even close enough for me to get used to. And the old relationships have never been made by my own effort. All the relationships have either been there by relation of blood or people have come to me thus making it easier for me to form bonds with them. But for years I've felt uninterested in forming any new relationships. There was a time when I thought that having new friends might be a good idea, especially when the old ones have been actively scattered all over the country and I am more and more by myself. Yet until the past few years I've finally grown used to it. I am used to being by myself and now I feel more than ever that I don't need any new people in my life. Just the thought exhaust's me. But I wouldn't mind a chance to stay in contact with the old friends and family-members. Something that hasn't been going quite as well as I've hoped.

There are things that I can't seem to understand no matter how much I try. Like the lack of empathy, some kind of sensitive instinct, compassion that really many seem to lack. Even the people I like can seem to have only half-empathy, half-sensitivity. Especially when I was really depressed my mind could not block any suffering out, I was consuming it all around me to the point where I felt I was going to break. And I admit that at couple occasions I complained to my ex for not having much sensitivity, which I understand now is something that only few people among thousands seem to have. But that sensitivity, the quality of it, also makes you vulnerable to suffering, depression and suicidal thoughts. You're ready to give up on the humanity and you need to be really stubborn - or masochist or both - to survive.

And another thing that could be a matter of empathy and sensitivity is loyalty in romantic relationships. Something I can't understand is cheating. I can make some sense of it when I think about it as one of the animalistic sides of human-nature but still it is really odd. If you are in a relationship, and you act like you're in love, why do you cheat? I've never been in that situation though my ex did something similar. It seems that cheaters are always cheaters and that they don't seem to care about the impact of their actions, which seems selfish and sociopath-behaviour. It is like they feel they are entitled to cheat and they cannot understand why the cheated is so enraged and hurt. And for them the lies seem to be no big deal or they don't consider themselves as liars. My ex was a trickster when she tricked me into thinking that she loved me. And when she got bored with me, especially when things got tough, she discarded me as easily as anyone who simply doesn't care - as she did not care. It was emotional cheating in some way. It included lying, emotional tormenting (kind of like "if you're like that or not like that I will leave you") and she never felt she did anything wrong. But all that opened my eyes to reality, that I had not known her at all. There was a side she kept hidden, a side she probably didn't think as any big deal, and when I saw that, I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do. You can't do anything if you're faced with the reality that the person you're with is not who you think. It is almost like you were looking at a cover of a person, and underneath it was the actual person who revealed themselves when they cheat and get caught in a lie. But it confuses me deeply since I can't make any sense of that kind of behaviour. Usually people know when they are acting harmful or cause pain. But there are people who just don't seem to see that in themselves. They just do what they want and chuck up the wreckage they leave behind as something they didn't do or didn't have any say nor responsibility in it.

But it is fascinating in some way. Although I can never forgive nor forget, as it seems, there's some odd satisfaction at times to poke at the old scar-tissue wounds until they start to bleed again. It's been over a year and I'm soon going back to the "crime-scene" yet I am terrified of seeing that person. It's a big city, but not big enough. I wonder how I am going to react going back there. Thinking about it terrifies me a bit. I probably can't go to the places I used to, since the memories are still too vivid and I don't want to dwell in them.

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

And here I am, still looking at houses for sale, hoping to get a chance to buy a place of my own. This feeling comes and goes, but it exists strongly in me. Most likely because I have no reason for life and not much to expect from the future so playing video-games and watching movies doesn't grant me enough fulfillment for my time. My own house might add more to my time, which seems to be the only thing I can do now; spend time doing something I enjoy. There are no schools, no fulfilling job-careers, no money to travel the world and no romantic relationships so all I have is time.

"Hello Darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with You again"

 (Copyrights belong to me)

I suspect smoking has started to take effect from my antidepressant medication. I need to try to smoke less if I don't want this to get any worse.

Because of this feeling of a wounded mind I can't write. I can't think.

The Pound of Flesh

Horrible nightmares have left my waking hours a bit darker; nightmares about never receiving acceptance and love from my father and about my ex - who usually never visited my dreams after the break-up. Each dream oddly relevant. Usually my dreams make no sense, but this time they had the actual fears and horrors of real life. Failed relationships that stay in the shadows of the waking hour. But the apartment where I live I am constantly reminded of those two things; a family I never had and the failed relationship and the opportunity to see what a normal functional family looks like. There's several houses around the apartment-complex, each filled with gardens and families barbecuing in their backyards. It is a world I've never known and I find it also very strange.

And perhaps my lack of sleep has started to affect my psyche, since I haven't been quite as well as I was previously. But that is my fault entirely. Lack of sleep makes you more prone to depression.

*

I still haven't finished my DIY-books, -fireplace and other smaller projects. And yet I keep adding more into the "unfinished projects" -piles: a vase with fruits and skulls. Inspired from the TV-series Hannibal. I think one was shown in the 2. season, somewhere in the last episodes dinner-scenes. I'm feeling too lazy to start searching for the particular picture.

"For the moon never beams, And the stars never rise"

(Copyrights are mine)

Yes, I am still watching American horror story- series. Starting from one and re-watching another episode at a time. But never-mind that.

*

Unfortunately there was no real clip of the angel of death, the dark cousin, so this fan-video will have to suffice, but I was reminded of the greatness of this particular season but also the personal notions about my quality of life - and death. It's amazing the way Death is portrayed in the series. She is a kind, dark essence, relieving sufferers from earthly pains with a single, gentle kiss. If Death had a form, I wish it would be such as this:

I doubt there is any more beautifully, gracefully portrayed existence of Death.

And although I keep - yet again - mentioning death and my life in the same sentence, I am simply mentioning that life has its surprises and mysteries, and one of those mysteries is death. And although I am fairly certain death brings only nothingness I do not actually crave it yet. But since we do not know out time on this mortal coil I like to think about death as much as possible to try find a friendly face in this inevitable ending. And no matter what happens afterwards I feel that death would be a sweet release. Yet life has a lot of things to see and experience, even the most painful parts, so as long as I can, I want to explore life. Feel and suffer until the day I die. 

But hopefully that day is far from this day.

"Life is a Dark chain of Events"

(Copyrights are mine)

Not a summer-appropriate picture but oh well...

Although this cloak of solitary fits me, and I have finally made my peace with it after years of struggling with it yet I have noticed some darker undertones behind it all. My medication works and things are quite fine, but I cannot seem to shake this feeling that my life is quite meaningless. I exist - and that is all. Everyone needs to feel important, to dream, to feel fulfillment in their lives in some way. To some it is a meaningful career, to some it is raising a family or traveling or volunteer work. But I have nothing. If I don't get to college to study to become a teacher I won't ever achieve the feeling that my life has some meaning. I did promise myself to go travel at least to couple of cities in this year or the next, so I would experience that, but I feel conflicted even by that idea. I'm not really excited by the idea although in some sense it would be a big thing and educational. I feel most comfortable at home. Also I think I might be afraid to get disappointed. If I have too high expectations of different places and they do not deliver, I don't know how I would feel about that. If there's no wondrous places in this world, and everything is just skeletons of the old world I don't know how to deal with that.

Reasons for living do not seem to be within us from the start, but we need to search for them. In the mean time I search, I try to keep my eyes closed - or the third eye closed if I feel tempted at looking into myself. Being aware of the gnawing need to find purpose is tough to bear. Even with the medication there still lingers the voice that questions my quality of life. The voice is more quieter and smaller, but it never goes completely away. I do wish to keep on living and hoping for something meaningful to hang on to, but I cannot completely get rid of that voice that makes me wonder would it be better to die and slip into nothingness.

(Copyrights are mine)

The only time I wasn't feeling tormented was when I was reading about Buddhism - years and years ago, about the time I was first time suffering from depression. I felt great sense of peace the more I read and learnt but I also felt that my artistic-inspiration was dying off at the same time. Suffering brings out the imagination; feeds it like some horrifying beast inside us. Peace leaves you blissfully empty; free from the chains that bound us in so many ways, we cannot ever truly see them all. 

Now I have neither of them. Torment is more intense when it keeps growing within without any way to release some of it out as paint forming into images. A cursed situation, when I need to work to survive, but at the same time the meaningless work sucks out all my energy and all my time. I feel tired all the time. Tired in some different way. Perhaps it is my soul that is tired.

Iron Butterfly

Have heard this song somewhere before. The intro is of course familiar. And the place I found this song was from American Horror Story: Coven- soundtrack.

Moon in my mind, Moon in the sky, Moon behind my eyes

While trying to find some great new TV-series to watch I re-watched the American Horror Story from the season one to season three. Have to admit, that I like the second season more than any others. Some how it had all the right ingredients in just right order. The first season lacked something although it was very nicely done. And the third season was a disappointment since a story about witches should have been more interesting. Yet it was quite mellow with the characters and a bit all over the place without any strong story-line to keep it all together. Yet I found many likable things from that season (I have a soft spot in my heart for witches), so I can recommend it to anyone who has not yet seen this series. Finally a good horror TV-show.