"Darkling I listen; and, for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath"

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,

And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?

The transient pleasures as a vision seem,

And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.

How strange it is that man on earth should roam,

And lead a life of woe, but not forsake

His rugged path; nor dare he view alone

His future doom which is but to awake. 

John Keats

*

More pills to be consumed, yet this weariness won't leave me. Still I am glad the melancholy doesn't occupy all my days, but the days, the months, the years are in a one big blurry pile on top of each other. I hope the new dosage will give me few days of clarity.

Perhaps next time I will have the energy to write about diy-projects, in other words "do it yourself"-projects. unfortunately I've lost the usb-cable of my camera, but I'll see what I can do without it.

"Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now steeped in dark decay."

“I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!”

- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll.

*

When I heard the news, I was in a shock and filled with disbelief - I still am. It's not a bad news, it doesn't make me feel anything particular, but I felt like I was suddenly whisked away from the familiar reality and dropped into a hole that leads to Wonderland. Equally bizarre and sudden it was.

For the man who raised me is not - claimed by my untrustworthy mother - my biological father. After almost a 30 years of living I find about it now. So suddenly, without any kind of hints. The mental-image of dropping into a rabbits hole and falling through to another kind of world seems accurate. Thus the pictures, although some of their dark nature doesn't cascade my feelings, but when you say "Alice", I see the bony-grin of Dark Horses "Alice"-game series Cheshire cat.

This shocking bit of news doesn't make me sad. It could liberate me from the painful notion of never being able to get any kind of love nor approval from my father, so I could be free from that mess in my head. No pressure, no shame and no sorrows.

I haven't yet gotten any confirmation from someone else, so in the most extreme case-scenario I might have to cut my ties with both of my parents, unless 'tis is true and they both are willing to speak it truthfully. Otherwise, if there's any claims by either one that the other one is lying, I think I have had enough. But it will be seen soon enough, how they want to handle this.

My mother handled it bad enough already, for she told about that secret to almost everyone else before she told me. My oldest brother knew about it two years ago and my younger siblings had to keep quiet about for a year, until they were forceful enough to make our mother tell the truth to me. At first I was willing to accept that it was handled poorly, slipped (most likely not) accidentally in a conversation but after I found out that my older brother knew about it even sooner, I started to think, why do I even bother socializing with the people who are responsible for the bad state of my mental health. I am truly starting to doubt if severing all ties might be the answer to getting better. I have been too polite and too kind-hearted to continue this charade for as long as I have. I will observe what my parents do. And if there's even a hint of manipulation or lies, I would be more than happy to leave them. After all I have been without their support or help for almost all my life, and even if I would need support or help in the future, I know they would never give either of those things. All they can do is spread poison all around them, and then try to make me feel guilty for disliking them.

Alice: "Wonderland's become quite strange. How is one to find her way?"

Cheshire Cat: "As knowing where you're going is preferable to being lost, ask. Rabbit knows a thing or two, and I, myself, don't need a weathervane to tell which way the wind blows. Let your need guide your behaviour; suppress your instinct to lead; pursue Rabbit."

*

What do you say to the God of Death? - Not today.

(Copyrights mine)

Halloween is over, and I am paying for the lack of sleep. Every time I suffer from lack of sleep my mind starts to slip into the dark places.

*

I also found fascinating the attitudes of my female-friends and family-member towards sexual females in games. Even when they are bisexuals they get annoyed by game-women who have large breasts or - and who are sexually open-minded or openly sexual. Is it some kind of basic feeling, to be threatened by large breasted beauties that are aggressive in their pursuit for men or they are flirty or in some other way openly sexual. When I would think that my female-friend might be attracted to this beautiful game-woman with heart of gold, she was annoyed and disgusted, and she wasn't the only woman who felt that way. I was a bit disappointed that the behavior and looks of the character was enough to lose all interest in getting to know her.

And although this is a game-character example from real-life, I wonder how well it would prove to be equally true in real life. I'm sure that if I would've asked them to give her a chance they might have seen a person behind the physical features and the characters social "games".

I have confronted situations when I felt threaten in real life by friend's boyfriend, but that was years ago and I haven't felt that way after that. And in that situation I could recognize that it was something basic in me. I think what changed was the role of solitary existence which I learned to embrace thus not feeling threatened by sharing my friends time with their better halves. But in games, a thing only other gamer's get, I've never felt disgusted nor annoyed by some character by the way they look and behave. Is it my lack of sexuality which makes it harder to understand? Can I see more of the person rather than the acts and words? I would like to think so, but I think no one can be that just. It is something else, but this subject along with female-reactions will remain a mystery to me.

*

And I also wanted to write about couple of stereotypical assumptions that haven't been based on any facts.

Assumption nro 1.
"Asexual's are impotent."

- Fact is that asexuality and impotence have nothing to do with each other. Asexual's can have perfectly healthy bodies and their bodily functions can work just fine but of course anyone might have problems in that department no matter how existing or non-existing their sexual drive is. But those problems have nothing to do with sexuality or the lack of it.

Assumption nro 2.
"Bisexuals cannot be in a relationship because they would soon crave for the other gender. They can never settle only just for one."

- Fact is that bisexuality isn't such a different thing from hetero- or homosexuality. The same reasons for being in a relationship or for cheating or for being satisfied sexually do not differ with bisexuals. If you want to be in a relationship, found someone you love, you won't sooner or later start craving for the other gender than the one you are with. The same things apply here than with any faithful or unfaithful relationships. You are either a faithful lover or you are not. You can either be with only one person or you cannot. Sexuality has nothing to do with that. And bisexuals do not have any magical powers that make them amazing lovers with the same gender, so they do not start planning of dumping you just because you are the opposite gender. How well of a lover someone is depends on many things and being the same gender doesn't automatically make anyone a talented lover.

I think there might be some other funny incorrect assumptions out there but these two came to mind so I wanted to write about them, although who would believe what anyone says when they have already made their minds. 

The Dweller on the Threshhold

(Copyrights belong to me)

"Part of me's beginning to think that's how you get to the end of your life 

and don't have anything to show for it."

This sentence has been going circles in my head.

Today started one week of resting at home. I'm too diligent that this feels wrong. A curse not strange to my countrymen. Or so has been said. Diligent, hard-working, and tough are the basic characteristics but each new generation changes that. I guess this is part of me growing up in a unsafe home with unstable people in unstable situations. I tried to help by being quiet, helping in anyway I knew how and usually none of the things I did was appreciated. At times I would get frowned upon by trying to clean the mess we were all living in. I've made my peace with those things, I think, but all that explains my distress of not fulfilling my duties. It feels odd being at home. I hope this feeling of uneasiness eases since I took this week off just so I could rest and gather my strength. Let the medication do its magic on me and hope for the best.

(Copyrights belong to me) 

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

*

New family-member. Seeing him warmed my heart. I named him "Byron". The most beautiful thing I've seen.

"In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day."

Couple of days ago I spent the entire day in a sleep-like haze. The world seemed unreal, flat. It was the turning point of the medication or the sickness. Yesterday I started to feel better. Today I feel better still. Hopefully this will last. 

My memory seems to worsen more because I can't seem to remember much about the last month. I know this was to be expected but still it's not easy to get used to this.

*

There was some quote I've often stumbled upon at different occasions and I never knew the whole sentence - until last night. But gods forbid; I can't remember it anymore! I'm slowly starting to wonder if it was a dream. I'm trying to find it never the less. Hopefully I will.

Here's some quotes I found in my search:

For example the things I found about Charles Bukowski sounded interesting:

“There is a loneliness in this world so great

that you can see it in the slow movement of

the hands of a clock.

people so tired

mutilated

either by love or no love.

people just are not good to each other

one on one.

the rich are not good to the rich

the poor are not good to the poor.

we are afraid.

our educational system tells us

that we can all be

big-ass winners.

it hasn't told us

about the gutters

or the suicides.

or the terror of one person

aching in one place

alone

untouched

unspoken to

watering a plant.” 

― Charles Bukowski, "Love is a Dog from Hell"

“I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn't make for an interesting person. I didn't want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. On the other hand, when I got drunk I screamed, went crazy, got all out of hand. One kind of behavior didn't fit the other. I didn't care.”

― Charles Bukowski, "Women"

That is one name I've heard and read somewhere but never got acquainted with.

“I don't hate people. I just feel better when they aren't around.” 

― Charles Bukowski

It all reminded me how much I enjoyed reading. I enjoyed many things, but years went by without doing those things and now I wonder what it means. Is reading a part of me anymore? Can I think of myself as a reader if I don't read a single page in couple of years time? It seems that my mind is willing but the flesh is weak.

*

I've been resting my mind with Dragon Age-games from Bioware (the same makers of Mass Effect-trilogy). The Dragon Age 2 is one of my favourite games now. The first game seemed really unfinished, but it is still a good game. I especially enjoy the plot-lines in them, the depth of the characters, dialogue and some simple things like the fighting-system, mostly that in the second game. Visually they aren't impressive, especially the first game is quite "fugly", but looks aren't all. It is the depth of the game; the story, the characters that makes it excellent. And I especially fell for the second games characters. Also the plot was more well thought and executed. I can only recommend it.

Humour also has a large portion in the creation of a great game. And Dragon Age (2 - especially) have made me laugh even at times like these.

(Source.)

I'm also paying myself into poverty and starvation by pre-ordering the 3.game that is due in the next month... I can see my future: hours and hours sitting on the sofa, surrounded by vast amounts of snacks and empty wrappers, dirty dishes while the apartment gets over-run by dust and spiderwebs:

Here There be Monsters

I am a shark

I’ve got to keep moving

And if I don’t move I will die

If you hold me here

I’ll just disappear

Won’t I' Won’t I?

Deep in my dark

And down in my cold

WIth nothing to feel

And nothing to hold

If you hold me here

I’ll just disappear

Won’t I' Won’t I?

Just like a shark I will tear you apart

You won’t even know what you did

I’ll try to spare you the pain of my jaws

But it’s just in my nature to rip and to shred

Pretty white teeth

In pretty white rows

Eyes open wide

Even while in repose

If you hold me here

I’ll just disappear

Won’t I' Won’t I?

Vermillion Lies - Shark Serenade

*

Very much sums this feeling of trying to keep moving on because if I stop even for a second I will die. There's some kind of self-destructive side in the human-nature which puzzles me. I've heard that there are some mammals that act the same way, but humans are quite unique in that field. We are really self-destructive in some way or another. Whether it is smoking, drinking or taking some kind of life-threatening risks or if it is just plain old suicidal tendencies we sure hate life - or living. 

"Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention."

It's interesting to read the arguments about the authenticity of love when sexuality is not involved. 

There's just the tiny problem, that no one can be objective about the matter. You are either a sexual person and can't really understand the nature of love without sex and asexual's can't really understand the role of sex in love; what it gives to it. Or that's how I feel. Who knows in how many different ways the opinions varies.

I wasn't able to stuck the poll on this post in any sensible way so it's a bit of a mess up there.

Another subject I thought writing  about is the surprising(?) disgust among women towards men in emotional state - for example crying. I don't know how many women find emotional responsive off-putting or if it just varies - which is something I like to think to be the answer, but I find it a bit troublesome. Not for me anymore but for others and for the over-all gender-equality. It is difficult to show emotions and it is almost physically difficult to cry. I haven't been able to shed a tear even when I have wanted to in hopes of getting some kind of relief from that. The only time - and the last time - I cried was because of my ex. I was a lot of times in emotional torment with her not to mention a depression that was slowly getting worse. Depression is a real emotion-booster, too much so and it consist only of sadness of all varieties.

But then I've noticed situations when other men have became emotional either by crying out of sadness or just being open with affection or empathy, and it had made the women in the situation disgusted.

That is something I can't understand. I literally cannot even try to comprehend what goes in their minds when they act like it is not alright for men to show emotions and vulnerability.  Women have a gift and a curse to be emotional, and men don't have it the same way. Even in physical pain, I've never shed a tear. Even when I have been emotionally and physically exhausted, at the end of my strength, I've not been able to cry to relieve my own suffering. When men cry, it's usually either intense pain that comes from something like a bone slicing through the skin and muscle or emotional pain from something actually worth crying about. I do feel a bit offended by the attitudes toward emotional men, since I am somewhat emotional myself and when I hear someone getting rejected over tears I do get annoyed. I feel like I should explain that if some man cries for you, you should be happy that he loves you enough to feel the kind of pain that makes him cry.

But enough with my ranting. I see the world and the people in it a bit oddly, perhaps. I still believe that we are all our own unique personalities though there are similar effects from the gender-stereotypical upraising. 

My Mother; The Mother Nature

(Copyrights belong to me)

The roots of our people, "our" meaning any culture on this Earth, is in respecting and worshiping nature. Usually those roots and the knowledge of them have been destroyed, but there still exists some knowledge. A pathway very familiar to some. I haven't yet dipped my feet into the dirt but I still feel more attracted to the old ways than just the scientific view of the world. I can't trick myself into believing anything that goes against science and common sense, but I still feel more close to the forests and rivers than to any gods or science. Science is the ultimate truth, but the nature is our home, our protector and we are its shepherds. Nature sparks our compassion when science has no place in our hearts. It only makes us ignore it. Ignore the nature, ignore our roots and give an excuse for destruction.

At least that is how it seems to me and I feel about it.

(Copyrights belong to me)

In the veins of women, instead of blood flows poison

(Old painting of mine. It has it good- and downsides... Educational project never the less. Copyrights mine.)

Not really true to say that about women in generally, but some are quite poisonous. And this time I don't even mean just my ex, but some other females I know.

And I also have few irreplaceable women in my life, who have a heart of pure gold. The poison bite comes from all kinds of people. I just found it interesting, that my last - unfinished - painting was about Medusa. As if an omen of things to come.


And the other poisonous people have raised their Hydra-like heads after a long silence. I hope they keep their usual distance for I do not care for their company. 

I need to concentrate on creating a life for myself. Stay away from the people who turn wine into ash in my mouth. I'm sure some people know what kind of people I mean.

(Old painting of mine. It has it good- and downsides... Educational project never the less. Copyrights mine.)

"Justice may have once been blind, But now she can see, She just lost her mind, So we put her away"

(Copyrights belong to me)

Perhaps the unfulfilled need to be loved makes me feel like I am a bad person somehow. I don't even know how I would be a bad person, but I've always been able to relate myself with the villains rather than heroes. Only because of this feeling of being no-good, unlovable, somehow not like anyone else for always being secluded from life. 
People telling me that I'm good doesn't really seem to have any effect on this way of thinking.

It seems that I am doomed to live with this false shadow over my head. I hope it remains false, that I won't make it reality since of my lack of respect towards my own being. I cannot ever fully like myself as long as I'm being disliked by people for just being who I am, the way I was born, by the people who raised me and the choices and mistakes I've done.
I always found it to be unfair, that for example my ex's father seemed to more or less secretly despise me although I never did anything bad to him, nor his daughter. It can be exhausting to be hated for just being alive.

*

(Copyrights belong to me)

That ends the thoughts of today.

Now after my window-painting I've directed my attention to the roof. I've been planning some kind of easily removable roof-painting. Some kind of astrological map of stars. Maybe in the weekend I can start planning.

"What's your Pleasure, Sir?"

                                                                                       Copyrights belong to the The Evil Within game-team

A thought came to mind about the "goodness" of a person. The goodness is relative. Every good person you know can be the most cruelest to some other.

And I don't mean unintended cruelness, but the kind that you are aware to be hurtful. Even when you pretend that you didn't know what your actions and words do to someone, the pain they cause, you are hurting others intentionally. No kind of excuses will change that. It is as it is.

Soon it will be exactly one year since my first supposedly-meaningful relationship ended. And the face of my ex is a face of a stranger now. The truth is that I do not nor did not know her. I thought I did, but if the person you once cared for turns out to be one of those cruel people, and act so vicious towards you, you have to confront the fact, that you did not know that person. The person you cared for would have never been like that.
And yet the cruel people can be kind to others of course, like their friends and family-members - at least to some of them. But why aren't they kind to everyone? Why do they do intentionally cruel things to some of the people in their life; the people who haven't been cruel towards them in return, but only kind. These are the kind of questions I will never get answers to.

At one therapy-session my therapist asked if there was some unsolved things, some questions I had for my ex, and I don't think there is anything. I can't understand why she did what she did and the way she did it, and I never will understand it. And even if I would want to solve something, I could never believe a word she says. So forgetting the cruelness continues. Hopefully one day the whole year will be like a long past nightmare. It seems already quite surreal.

But luckily it's almost a year gone by, and my life is quite nice. I could even consider myself to be happy; able to enjoy all kinds of things again. And I still do not desire anything romantic in my life. I doubt I never will. I like living by myself, doing whatever I want whenever I want. I like that I don't have to make compromises nor think about anyone else besides me. I can spent my money on the things I want.

So if anyone - who feels that they are alone - reads this, don't fight your own solitary existence. You can find so much happiness from your life without romance. I feel that romantic love is way over-rated. Even singles who are sexually active can fulfill those needs without getting into a relationship. See it as a challenge; how to find meaningful reasons for your existence without fulfilling the basic primal needs of surrounding yourself with a mate and a litter of your own making. Some people fulfill that basic need without any parental bone in their body - not to mention any other lack of empathy or skills to maintain healthy relationship. So even if you would have the gift for all that, you should enjoy your time as a single as long as it continues on. What kind of ambitions do you have? Any dreams for your near-by or distant future? 

Some people are into making bucket-lists, so if you enjoy making lists, that's probably one way to figure out what the life could offer you - personally. When you get together with someone your solitary dreams will most likely develop into shared dreams.

*

And the horror game from Bethesda, that I am waiting for anxiously:

Developed by Shinji Mikami and the talented team at Tango Gameworks, The Evil Within embodies the meaning of pure survival horror. 

Detective Sebastien Castellanos and his partners are called in to investigate a gruesome mass murder. After witnessing a mysterious force slaughter his fellow officers, Sebastian is ambushed and knocked unconscious. When the video opens, he finds his world has been turned upside down. Facing unimaginable terror and fighting for survival in a world where hideous creatures wander among the dead, Sebastian embarks on a frightening journey to unravel who or what is behind this unimaginable evil.

The Evil Within is in development for the Xbox One, Xbox 360, PlayStation 4, PlayStation 3, and PC and is slated for release in 2014. For more details on The Evil Within visit: TheEvilWithin.com. 

Provisionally Rated PEGI 18. So don't blame me if you get nightmares from that video.

Ouroboros

 Snake eats snake kind of world.

(Drawing by Theodoros Pelecanos)

I've been following the animal-rights news-feeds lately, especially by the Finnish activist, who released a book about the inhumane condition of farm-animals. Animal-rights questions go too far into the political subjects that I vowed not to approach in my blog, since they are too realistic, too grim. My mental condition allows me to read about things like that again, but I won't make any posts about it - not any too specific posts, I mean. 

What I wanted to say was that although my hatred towards mankind has gone back to the place where it came from, most likely because of my affecting medication, yet I keep noticing how far I am from the rest of the humankind. And by judging the people who are my family and friends, I cannot help but to notice, that there's only so few emphatic people in this world. Most of the human-race seem to be unable to feel empathy. Which makes me feel like the world of humans is a sick and dark place. If you cannot feel empathy even towards the smallest of living beings, how can you feel empathy towards other human-beings?

And I, as probably everyone else, can see everyday how much empathy people have for each other. That makes me feel like this really is a dog-eats-dog world.

If my countrymen are interested in reading the blog of the author of "Salainen päiväkirja eläintiloilta" ("The secret diary from animalfarms"), just click the books name. There might be nothing you didn't already know, yet she makes really smart notes and insights.

(Copyrights belong to me)

Into the Finnish bloglist of gothic blogs has crept few nongothic-blogs, which made me think, if the goth-scene is getting "watered-down". By that I mean that if some people feel that they don't really qualify as gothic yet they hold on to that categorization for their own purposes even when it doesn't seem to have anything to do with the blogger and their blogs. Which doesn't concern me, rather just puzzles and confuses me. I do not judge, and at times I can barely consider my style gothic, yet I was wondering if it is not just about watered-down gothic-style but a way to trick more viewers... which I would judge, if the whole idea behind it is to get more viewers by false pretenses. You should have enough confidence in your blog that you wouldn't need trick-measures. And what is the point of trying to make a blog just for getting a lot of readers or viewers... Sometimes I cannot understand the human-race (sorry for the generalization).

Ye Dark winged ones - Come to me, my Friends, Land on my feet and tell Me with Your dark voices Your stories of the Deep Dark Woods

(Copyrights belong to me)

I was wondering about my last writing. I think it might give the wrong kind of impression. I'm a lousy writer. My world consists of images, not words. I'm bad expressing myself using words.
I'm equally bad at analyzing my own writings yet I started to think that people who do not know or understand what I mean with the talk of hating humans, might think of me as some kind of psychopath or something, I decided to emphasize what I meant by saying that I care for most people - in some way and at least sometimes. Also I would not wish harm to anyone, that's why a world wide catastrophe would erase whoever were in its way without judgement. It would be more clean than wars between nations. 
Wishing for something like that means also that I'm willing to accept that it would be the end of all things I've grown fond of yet I know things will never get any better with the way they are now. Not without some kind of impact that would change every person's mind.

What I desire is a new beginning - probably not for mankind, since we are incapable of changing, but for all life on this Earth. The life mankind is about to erase as insignificant.
And that's something I've been carrying in my mind for many years. Unable to do anything but observe - as seems to be my role in life; observer.

That is what I meant with this lacking "tongue" of mine.

*

I've been quite tired lately. Yet I'm not worried yet. It might be the aftermath of my trip and also some of the wine I drank back then might taken some of the effects of the antidepressants back. So it hasn't affected as well for couple of days.

The medication has done nothing harmful for me to complain about but I miss drinking wine. Even two glasses of it might be too much. You get an odd feeling if you try to drink more than possible, and you know then that you must seize drinking. Any mild alcohol-drinks are allowed, like beer or two, but nothing strong.

*

Since I re-found and rekindled my affection to music, I got some flashbacks from Type O Negative albums and last late spring.

I've been doing quite well since the break-up, and the only good thing about it was the fact that it ended. I cannot revisit the emotional anguish I was put through at that time since I have nothing left to feel for that person, but I was somehow remembering the whole affair with some kind of a amusement. Perhaps I was amused by my own foolish mistake, the grave yet hard-to-believe misjudgment of character. How could I've been so blind as to believe her lies, that's something I still cannot believe. Also the way I - who have always dread carefully with affections - threw myself for her to rip to shreds. Like I was a puppet without my own will, eagerly handing her my heart and mind, which were of course abused and crushed and finally stomped on. I've never let anyone use me like that. Even with the people whose affection was already false or questionable I was able to refrain myself from ever getting too close. The only people I've given myself with trust are my few friends and siblings. And for my siblings I would be willing to go through all sorts of hellish mental agony, but to think a person who thought and felt almost absolutely nothing for me was able to twist me into this shapeless form, I'm at loss, trying to comprehend the way things happened. I am in no means exaggerating the torment I was put through. I had never felt such pain and didn't think there was a pain like that to begin with.

I guess I feel humiliated by the way she used and hurt me. That is exactly why I don't give chances to people who already don't seem to care for me, like my father. But usually those people can't hide it. And since I've at times wondered about the last summer and spring, I think I might have even seen the signs in her eyes. But like a child she kept playing and I wanted her love bad enough to ignore those cold eyes and the obvious fact how she kept tormenting me that it was a miracle I didn't break down; I was an exhausted, emotional wreck. I wish I had the words to describe how it felt. Perhaps someday I will be able to portray it somehow, since I can't shape it into words.

Perhaps part of the continuing hatred is the feeling of humiliation. It's also one of the strengths that pull inward the intense hatred which allows me to forget - yet not forgive. Never forgive. I remember all the kindness I've been given, that is why I have been civilized since I remember the kindness of her family, but I also remember all the viciousness I've suffered, and her name is in the top of the list for everything she did was personal, unlike many other insults and physiological violence.

Perhaps some wise person might consider hatred the wrong way of reacting, but that's how I've dealt with all the people who have hurt me. I cannot forgive something I haven't fully confronted yet. And my future stretches out to the next minute and not farther than that. I still despise the idea of forgiveness.

What you reap - you sow.

*

With the threat of writing too much I wanted to shed a bit more light into this bitter head of mine. We all have reasons for our actions and reactions.

I was an easy target to use, since my previous yet short "romance" with someone ended up with me suspecting of being used for some agenda; most likely to cause jealousy in the previous partner.
And before I would've gotten too involved and done things I would regret - as I am now regretting with the previous catastrophe of a relationship - I ended it. 

After that I seemed to have created feelings for a person who wasn't interested in me, perhaps just to have someone safe to like. At that time, it was painful as well, yet now I can almost reminisce with happiness, that my childlike heart was still so innocent and foolish with naivety. 
My short, disappointing and extremely painful disappointments in love-life - or more specifically; my one-sided love-lives - have left me exhausted and ready to give up that kind of life. I've been an observer as long as I can recall. I have few friends and my siblings. I have the forests, my dark winged friends and all the other occupants of the forests, so perhaps I should stick to my role in life instead of keep trying to achieve things I cannot seem to have. While I write this I feel content about it. As if I'm agreeing with myself to something I've known. I have no objections. 

*

  
I'm too old-school for posting Youtube-links, but old habits die hard - if ever. And this song is most likely going to disappear a month or couple of weeks after I've posted it here leaving only a blank frame:

Ah, the torments of the summer. Yet my memory is leaving me with the more affectionate memories of the job I had, the foods and drinks I had and the way the rising sun climbed behind my back to warm the cool mornings with its light. Those aren't unpleasant memories.

Bitter Wine

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

I've become cynical. Perhaps even bitter. I'm sure all that is obvious from my previous post. I feel like a doomsday preacher and it's easier to write how much I detest humanity than to tell it. Forming that into words gives a wrong impression. I just don't see any hope for the future. I'm sure some people had these thoughts even centuries ago, and nothing bad happened. I cannot help feeling that this generation is part of the end - whatever that will be.

And I'm also quite sure my own disappointing relationships with people have had their part in this cynical hopelessness and the disability to see almost any good in humanity. I'm aware how selfish that sounds, yet I can't help the way I feel.

After a while the wine of all earthly pleasures turn into dust in your mouth.

Hostis Humani Generis

(Copyrights belong to me)

Enemy of the Mankind.

If I had one wish; met a genie, wished upon a flying star or met some strange god whom to pray to, I'd wish for the end of Mankind.

I have a soft heart. Sometimes I think it's too soft for anyone to bear. I have a soft heart for children, for women, for the elderly, for men who are like my brothers and yet there are often thoughts if not realizations, that all things I love will die because of men. Even there are times I look upon my family and friends - even my own reflection in the mirror - and I feel sad, tired, disappointed.

For me, this Earth is hell. There can be no other hell to go to. And if there is, it must feel like a vacation after this life here.

I'm not the only one who has seen the end of our days. I feel such grief already. Perhaps ever since I was a child and I begin to understand things. Now I look at the things I love with adoring gaze, apologetic, and I wish the end of Mankind would come soon. And I wish I could carry this disappointment and turn this resentment into something more bearable. And I wish to all the gods and all the stars that I could bear this grief over my loved ones, that continue to wither and die. My own death is inevitable as is all the natural deaths, so I will continue to live, continue to suffer as long as I can take it. I will gather every last bitter drop of it, take a pencil, a brush and a chisel and form it into a mirror. I hope you would see your reflection. I hope it would make you love the unloved ones once more. That I could see humanity in your eyes instead of that blank, hollow shell without a soul.

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

*

I'm sure some of the readers wonder who is this melodramatic writer, but I have the advantage to write whatever I wish since I do not have to please anyone. Even these recurring thoughts or feelings about humanity. I do not think there's a cure for this although my mood otherwise has improved with medicine and therapy. There's no cure for the human nature.

“Many people need desperately to receive this message: 'I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.”

Mornings are particularly difficult. It seems that my mind is more affected by any negative thoughts in the first hours of the awakening. For instance, this morning I thought to myself how pointless life is and especially how disgusted I am with the human-race. It's an old issues that I thought I had made my peace with a long time ago. This hate and disgust toward humanity started with my first depression when I was a teenager. It stopped with the depression, I think. I started to read about Buddhism at that point and all the disappointments and anger stopped - until last year it resurfaced. 

Ever since I was a kid, I loved the nature. The animals, the plants - everything in it. When I grew up I had to learn about the human history, and what our race has done to each other, to ourselves and to the planet. And still continue to keep on doing harm to everything around it. The reality of it and the human-nature is a hard thing to accept. Especially when your influenced by it everyday.

Before I understood that I could do all I can as a one person. The way I treat people, treat environment, but I can't save the world all by myself. That thought comforted me, but now it doesn't help me anymore. I just want to quit this game and go in to the wilderness and disappear.

When I was carrying on doing my chores with this dark cloud over my head I suddenly heard a song, that turned this sick feeling into serenity and after that into euphoria. It was from the opera from Léo Delibes called "Lakmé", the song is called "The Flower Duet", "Duo des fleurs". I got this feeling that I want to listen to more opera, since I enjoy classical music besides rock and metal-music. 

For a moment there, I thought to myself, that as long as there's art in this world, something that looks and sounds divine, it's a proof that the mankind has few people in it, with a soul that can produce immortal beauty.

But that soul has been partly tainted by the other part. For many of you readers that song might be more familiar from commercials, which have slaughtered many of the eternal classic-songs, that have the kind of rare light in them, that can lift our spirits, just as it did to me. I can never forgive the advertising industry for the way they exploit beauty. Yet they cannot soil its soul no matter how hard they seem to be trying to do that.

*

"The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something." ― Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country.

“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.”

Association with human beings lures one into self-observation.

- Franz Kafka

*

Out of curiosity I looked at some of the blogs I found, that told about single-life. First impression was amazement. It was like looking at a strange civilization. I could not understand any of it. One night stands, fuck-buddies, all the relationship drama and whatnot. It was puzzling. Almost fascinating. Like I was peeking through some unknown alien-species, that had their own strange customs I couldn't relate to, couldn't understand it in any form, to compare it to my life, since it was so different. Like a mirror-image of my life. It was bizarre.

But I do have this almost perverted curiosity towards that world. I say "perverted" since I have gone through such degree of curiosity, that I have even peeked at some of the TV-programs that are planned for those bizarre group of people and I find that perverted. I mean, who in their right mind finds that entertainment? I cannot understand any of it. I cannot even explain what it's like. It's like going into a zoo to watch the animals. Or perhaps it's like meeting an alien-race with new strange customs you're trying to understand by comparing to your own traditional customs. I do not know. I'm a bit doubtful if my own life would seem as bizarre to those people as their lives seem bizarre to me. I probably come of as a loser or failure in life.

*

Although I wrote that the romantic idealist in me has died, I did for fun, a personality test. It seems I sometimes get fed up with studying and I want to do just about anything else except that:


My result: INFP (introversion, intuition, feeling, perception) is an abbreviation used in the publications of the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) to refer to one of sixteen personality types.

Short version to those, who do not want to read the whole thing is: 

 
- "I – Introversion preferred to extroversion: INFP's tend to be quiet and reserved. They generally prefer interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and they expend energy in social situations (whereas extroverts gain energy).
- N – Intuition preferred to sensing: INFPs tend to be more abstract than concrete. They focus their attention on the big picture rather than the details, and on future possibilities rather than immediate realities.
- F – Feeling preferred to thinking: INFPs tend to value personal considerations above objective criteria. When making decisions, they often give more weight to social implications than to logic.
- P – Perception preferred to judgment: INFPs tend to withhold judgment and delay important decisions, preferring to "keep their options open" should circumstances change."

"The Idealist"

"As an INFP, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit into your personal value system. Your secondary mode is external, where you take things in primarily via your intuition.

INFPs, more than other iNtuitive Feeling types, are focused on making the world a better place for people. Their primary goal is to find out their meaning in life. What is their purpose? How can they best serve humanity in their lives? They are idealists and perfectionists, who drive themselves hard in their quest for achieving the goals they have identified for themselves

INFPs are highly intuitive about people. They rely heavily on their intuitions to guide them, and use their discoveries to constantly search for value in life. They are on a continuous mission to find the truth and meaning underlying things. Every encounter and every piece of knowledge gained gets sifted through the INFP's value system, and is evaluated to see if it has any potential to help the INFP define or refine their own path in life. The goal at the end of the path is always the same - the INFP is driven to help people and make the world a better place.

Generally thoughtful and considerate, INFPs are good listeners and put people at ease. Although they may be reserved in expressing emotion, they have a very deep well of caring and are genuinely interested in understanding people. This sincerity is sensed by others, making the INFP a valued friend and confidante. An INFP can be quite warm with people he or she knows well.

INFPs do not like conflict, and go to great lengths to avoid it. If they must face it, they will always approach it from the perspective of their feelings. In conflict situations, INFPs place little importance on who is right and who is wrong. They focus on the way that the conflict makes them feel, and indeed don't really care whether or not they're right. They don't want to feel badly. This trait sometimes makes them appear irrational and illogical in conflict situations. On the other hand, INFPs make very good mediators, and are typically good at solving other people's conflicts, because they intuitively understand people's perspectives and feelings, and genuinely want to help them.

INFPs are flexible and laid-back, until one of their values is violated. In the face of their value system being threatened, INFPs can become aggressive defenders, fighting passionately for their cause. When an INFP has adopted a project or job which they're interested in, it usually becomes a "cause" for them. Although they are not detail-oriented individuals, they will cover every possible detail with determination and vigor when working for their "cause".

When it comes to the mundane details of life maintenance, INFPs are typically completely unaware of such things. They might go for long periods without noticing a stain on the carpet, but carefully and meticulously brush a speck of dust off of their project booklet. - And for personal note: I sometimes forget to eat and drink when I'm concentrating on something I'm doing.

INFPs do not like to deal with hard facts and logic. Their focus on their feelings and the Human Condition makes it difficult for them to deal with impersonal judgment. They don't understand or believe in the validity of impersonal judgment, which makes them naturally rather ineffective at using it. Most INFPs will avoid impersonal analysis, although some have developed this ability and are able to be quite logical. Under stress, it's not uncommon for INFPs to mis-use hard logic in the heat of anger, throwing out fact after (often inaccurate) fact in an emotional outburst.

INFPs have very high standards and are perfectionists. Consequently, they are usually hard on themselves, and don't give themselves enough credit. INFPs may have problems working on a project in a group, because their standards are likely to be higher than other members' of the group. In group situations, they may have a "control" problem. The INFP needs to work on balancing their high ideals with the requirements of every day living. Without resolving this conflict, they will never be happy with themselves, and they may become confused and paralyzed about what to do with their lives.

INFPs are usually talented writers. They may be awkard and uncomfortable with expressing themselves verbally, but have a wonderful ability to define and express what they're feeling on paper. INFPs also appear frequently in social service professions, such as counselling or teaching. They are at their best in situations where they're working towards the public good, and in which they don't need to use hard logic.

INFPs who function in their well-developed sides can accomplish great and wonderful things, which they will rarely give themselves credit for. Some of the great, humanistic catalysts in the world have been INFPs."

Jungian functional preference ordering:

Dominant: Introverted Feeling

Auxiliary: Extraverted Intuition

Tertiary: Introverted Sensing

Inferior: Extraverted Thinking

*

Although this is a psychological theory about personality-types I agree with the results. I am an introvert, that's no surprise. And I tend to think and act more on a feeling than on logical thinking. This is one reason that some people might think that I'm a fool, an idiot, incapable to perceive things logically.

Yet some of the details varies, what is expected from a the reality, where a human psyche is built on several different factors like genes, environment and upbringing. What I do like is being aware of different personalities. Since many of the extroverts cannot understand that for introverts socializing is tiring, it is good to explain that. 

*

And now I must get ready to go photographing the city. I have some errands to do there, so I decided to try and photograph too. The opportunities have been few, so I must seize this one before I'm too tired.