As a young woman, I was looking for the pulse of life, I suffered terribly, because I didn't find the artistic community, I thought then, I'll find some kind of group of people and sit around a coffee table with them, like Beauvoir and the existentialists. I would know, I was not entirely suitable as a non-intellectual, but maybe I would be able to join them after all, who knows. But then I was amazed, that there was no such community, dass das bürgerliche Modell alles auffrass, In their mid-twenties or thirties at the latest, individual lateral thinkers and bon vivants took care of themselves in the small family. At least that's how it was here, in Bern.
I should have gone away, absolutely go away. But my physical lockdown developed very early and therefore almost parallel to the social lockdown, creeping, over years.
Now, gives, where i am now, suddenly there is an external lockdown, a closure, that affects the world itself; she, the strenght, invulnerable world, that is so flawless! To me this feels like now, as if there was no more escape for me and no more ways out. I see the world from my fortress, how she is now also sick, catches. How they care for theirs “Achievement sheep” fights and im “Administration attempt” tries to maintain composure to the originally organic reality of life. I know, I can no longer expect anything from this now self-diseased world (I could ask the Catholic Church for a visiting service, it was said). But I can't give her anything either, because she doesn't want anything and doesn't need what is mine, especially not now, where she is in danger, not being able to read their own signature anymore….
she (the world outside) tolerate people like me, who are sick or sick and different at the same time (or just different), after trying hard for us for a short time. But if the integration does not succeed and the financial situation is settled, this world turns away from you beyond recognition. Then there is nothing more for people like me to do.
In principle, that's unbelievable, considering, that life and its resources would just be there, present on top!
But I can't tinker with my beauty world on my own…. I cannot struggle for the magic alone…….——–
I can in this separation from the essential * and in this vacuum of my entropic self (as a result of my multiple interconnected isolation) not living anymore.
I remember my failure to acknowledge, that I had never found my existential community anywhere, no people, who just lived and made art (and a job on the side, if necessary). Around thirty I could hardly accept this.
But this separation now is unreal, it is, like I've been on the moon for a long, long time looking back at my pair of child steps, that I tried on the globe (and which I failed). It is, as if the years or the decades were, while I was still interacting with the institutions (Job centre, Psychiatrist, Encounters with people for the PURPOSE, SBB train travel, nocturnal frustration- or Suff outputs, Shopping in the supermarket and strolling through the cities, the few trips to other countries, Train stations etc.), as if it all happened in another life, in one world, which no longer exist and to whose residents I have no relation or. I have more points of commonality.
If my new HA supports my exit request, my chances of a bought end increase sharply. It would be my first and only victory, then.
Failure lies upon me and crushes me. It is a physical pain. It feels, like when a fissure bites my solar plexus to pieces.
*the essential?: on, a life, which is based on basic human needs and thus a world, in which one cultivates access to the sensual experience, one World, in which there is life on the street and in public spaces…. one World, in which there is romance and people form romantically, not administrative, one World, in which the adults remain erotic and childlike… one World, in which one has completely enough of the sensual existence and therefore can stop economic progress, stop the game and the death instinct… etc
In this world, that i want, I will be with many people loving words and tender, Swap refined touches, will either bake my bread myself or know, where i get it. And that's why I'm going to hang up the whole merchandise madness junk, the online shopping of the thousand small items, that I chase…. just, to pour out a bit of Oxitocyn and also to be told about a mask: Thank you Marion-Jeanne, it is nice, to see you on our side again! Check out our latest trend items! Extra for you!” I don't need anything like that anymore. Because then I live real life.
But I can't do it alone. Somebody has to help me.
Unfortunately, someone else has to help me too.
But I, I can do something too: I CAN HELP YOU, To liberate yourself from your fortress.
(11.4.21)