The amazing thing is this: that you do something, because you have to do it. Not, because you're good at it (!). Of course there are people, who do that, where they have their talents, but that doesn't have to mean it, that they do that with it, what you love?! only but, I do not know, if it is good and correct, if you do that, what to believe, to have to do, although one has recognized it purely rationally, that nothing will come of it. Do something, what you are not good at, is like swallowing a placebo, that you thought of, it is a medicine. But I don't know, if I do that, what I have to do, and by that I really mean that, what I have to do, not that, what I do, because others have said so, that I best do this, compromises have led to it etc., if i really do it, because i love it. It would be obvious, because why else should I do anything, that I don't like, because I'm not qualified for it? i really love it, to do that, what I have to do?! Or am I forced, to love that, what I do, because I didn't have a chance, free to choose, what I actually want to do?! And, but I made my choice!? Far too free!? Not correct!? It wasn't a free choice! But what do I do now?, after I understand, it penetrates to me, at last, that I, although I could do just that, what I wanted: pursue my passion, discover the lack of freedom on this path, the real hopelessness …? Not being able to choose is not freedom. Being able to choose from too many options doesn't necessarily seem like freedom to me either. But, and, when one is robbed of all options of free choice, for example by a severely disabled body (like me); then you will be invited to it, to reconcile with this random reality?! What else do I want and should I achieve outside of all this?, as far as my inner developments and processes are concerned?! I got nothing out there, and will never achieve anything! Also so what?! Fuck! And yet I want to, that someone takes note of it, how i wrestled and “worked on me”, to stay mentally alive, in the last ten years of BETRUDERSHIP, living beyond the outside world, disconnected from their symbolic invocations (haha, Lacan), pound call, that I wanted to avoid as a young person, just, because there was an urge, a counter-obsession; against everything, what I was told, what came from outside, didn't pay attention to my intuition (Intuition & Feel), and, why actually?! Why did I have to be so radically against it?! When I explicitly wished for recognition from the outside world, even as a child by the idiot teacher!!!!
I mean, Okay, now, and, I've got the dirt: I radically followed this inner urge (the disease made it relatively easy, to give in to this urge, since such years of isolation leads to monomaniac self-reflection), i have evolved, for me as a brat and human, oh me, I am rudimentary-primitive, but i tried, to think! But in the end, none of that means anything to me, material, financially, social, I mean, hello, even I have to say it out loud: We are herd animals.
Oh… there are so many areas, that are on the outside, with which one can cover an inner deficiency! Even, if you believe, you have an inner wealth! No! It is not so: an inner wealth can be so solid; no man can live apart from the rest, unless he has God, no man chooses apostasy, rebellion, radical freedom just as little as writing, that implodes. But all of that happened, happened to me … and ………………………
didn't say Zizek:
the ‘distance between inside and outside establishes our freedom’?!
So I'm a slave, thereby, that I have withdrawn, solange, until I was forgotten and physically appropriate in the hypometabolism of the Myalgic E. sank. A slave, not through too much outside control, but by complete detachment from all human constraints, caught indiscriminately, like the poorly trained cashier or the migrant (gut, he has i.a. possibilities), delivered circumstances, the structures, that are stronger than my huge ego, an ego, for which I obviously had to flee the world, many decades ago, so as not to be shattered before long ….. peculiar. —–
But I get lost in the forest of my thoughts. i'm losing her right now.
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Recently again 'Kaspar Hauser’ looked (not the film adaptation of Werner Herzog, but an amazingly good television film with André Eisermann) and had to ask me: why am I so unworldly, boldly and innocently thrown into my surroundings, back then, after school, around twenty, like I escaped from a shack, in which I with my wooden horse, spent my first seventeen years?! I've been prepared for it, that I won't find paradise out there! That they don't wait for me! That nothing is given to me! That no men lie at my feet! Epicursian pleasures are rare! That everything has to be earned, everything!!! And, i have been prepared, thereon, but apparently I was walking around with the bell of my paradise around my little head … I didn't let that get to me, what they wanted from me out there, I couldn't deliver, what they asked of me, I failed miserably at the smallest tasks and at the same time I followed the dictation, that gave me the stiff imagination…. I was looking for paradise.
It was made of: creation star & Love.
Nothing more than that.
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But what did I mean by that stupid creation star …..
to lose everything, to become a freak and a slob, to associate with half delinquents, on a dull roadside among mice without Eros arrows, without language, without eyes, without gestures ….. What Silence.
payday, Mjs, payday.
If I could, then I would, what i have to, because I want it, without wanting it, without loving it, indiscriminately, and … but not that, gives!, but something, that I freely chose, that I don't want, that i can, got to …..thank you for having to, mussels, talentlos, I would tell myself! etc.
Preach like a sinner: Self-actualization, even real is dead end. And: painful.