I want to let go and surrender to exhaustion, but I can not. I'm always looking for a new path, that I could follow in a series of thoughts. I just want to work, I can only endure the pain when I'm still working, that result from my failures. I was out today, after many weeks, for the first time, I went by train. All of this makes me so sad, the places, that were my life the day before yesterday, which I now drive past every three months. I don't want to go anywhere anymore, The die is cast, a long time ago. I didn't then, and, even back than 2018 knew: some of that love still, and then it's over. Does it last a long time?, then it won't be over for a long time, it lasts a short time, then it's over sooner. But that I'm done, after her, I knew that; I know my body that well. My powers were limited, very limited, and yet I had to take that risk, I couldn't have done without it. But now I have to take the consequences, but because my literature is still in the drawer, I can't. It's over, But I can't give it up, 'Cause I can't believe, that my work has to stay in the drawer. I can't find a quiet minute anymore, no peace, no rest, literature won't let me go, she won't let me let go of things, won't let me give up my wayward life. It is too late, to ever be anything else again, as melancholy. I'm caught up in the farewell, I'm waiting for the decisions of the dying company, also, How am I supposed to live there again?, like everything is new, as if there were a beginning and no end, like i could, straight, because the odds, that i will go, exist, understand again, how to set myself free … free from everything … But the opposite is true, I can only take refuge in obsession, im burying myself in writing …. this writing, that will remain virtual, if I'm not lucky, to get it out. This writing …. with which I wanted to rise, keep getting me up, from the dung of my youth, my handicaps, my stubbornness and asociality, but now it might as well become this writing, that finally sinks me, that made me disappear. I'm so tired! I want to sleep! Aber doesn't, it's never time for that, because I'm never finished and my work never found a buyer. How are you supposed to end it like that?? how to let go? How to find peace? Nothing is achieved! Nothing! And yet it's too late for everything! i'm there- and torn. I have never needed anything, so absolutely absolutely, like right now! For me and my appreciation. I've never been so impatient! It must be done now! Now! Now! Now! am i still there! It must be done now! The time of waiting and maturing is over! But it doesn't happen. It is, as if the door to the world were closed. And I still the little kid, that sneaks around the master bedroom at night and doesn't know, how to properly knock on a door. But, God dammit, when I'm just not good enough, not even now, it will never be, as a mind handicap; why does no one tell me!? God dammit, you have to tell me that!!!!!