diary, 19.5.

for this and that reason I think again a little bit about the depression. Does it exist or does it not exist? I am inconclusive, but I tend to say, that depression doesn't exist, but is a psycho-hygienic invention, as part of the blame assignment, when a person does not adapt sufficiently to the system.

I rather think, that depression, if any, then should be / is a natural state, is a state, that never leaves us / like desire, the fear or the pain. E.M. Cioran asks in one of his interviews: “but see people, how things really are? See things, the way they are? I do not think so ….”

For me it is one of the biggest riddles, how people can live with such a resistance and such a defense against it, what threatens and hurts us every day: Our fellow men are not like that, that we naturally love them, like vice versa, we are not loved by our fellow human beings. “Why can we never, never be loved?” (Michel Houellbecq). I'm not talking about charity, but from pleasure, of magic and therefore an individual affection …. how often in our little life of maybe 50 to 70 For years we are gripped by this affection for a person and vice versa, how often do we seize?

It happened so rarely in my life, that I don't know of any other status, in the long run, as depression / deficiency. People are trimmed for it, swallowing and digesting the injuries, who don't stop hitting them, since this moment, where they break away from their mother ….

Nobody is loved for their own sake. And you are not desired for most of your life either, certainly not at all, if, for example, one is struck with the natural imposition of ugliness or illness.

I don't know anything, that is stronger than fear, than desire and lust coupled with the illusion of devotion / love. Even in the illusion, lust and desire are even stronger than fear!!!! Okay, for some people there is religion and God …. they are of course off the hook ….

How long have I not understood, why i can't live my life, like it's a paradise. why me, the designer of my life, can't give me my own life, that I would have needed, to live.
Why didn't I come out into life with the conception?, that life is not much different from that of the gatherers and hunters, consists of work, from gross activities, which are linked to rudimentary, factual exchanges with fellow human beings, who have the same lot, like me: Gray people with a gray life. between 1 and 100 Functional for years.

But I didn't / didn't have this lot. I am physically ill and I was so physically ill early on, that I was just paying attention, how I could merge and dissolve my body with another in love!!! But some way seemed blocked to me, although I hahaha: invested in this area (where else have I invested?)

I can't think of any other drug, than the warmth, the two create with their skin and their eyes— coupled with their illusion of love! And I didn't see the point, living so many years without that, easy, because I seldom found someone lovable and, conversely, probably did not exist in the ethereal sphere of my fellow human beings and their circumstances …. everyone is looking, what it knows …..what resembles him …. nobody is looking for the other ….

Coexistence with other people (when I was still doing it for professional reasons, among others) was a constant insult to me, in most cases I already felt offended in my aesthetic or sensual feelings, when someone opened their mouth and spoke …. Faces have reduced me immunologically, because they rarely performed magic ….

I do not know, whether everyone feels like that. Certainly the chances are higher, to live such a life, as I imagined, if you live in a city like Paris or Buenos Aires …. where you can enjoy beautiful faces … a beautiful face, with that I mean: a living face!

How presumptuous I am.

I rarely get out, but if, then I always go over to the hairdresser on the highway and look at myself in his window- respectively mirror panes.

From the outside I now become presumptuous. As for my interior: I may have been convinced of it once, that I can get something out there, because of my little guy. But now I'm just a poor fool ….

i see things, how they really are. And got none of it. Of my beautiful male cruelty!

If I wasn't bedridden, ich würde losmarschieren. Miles ….. Marching makes it easy and ascetic. When marching, dreams of limbs and presumptions fall! Walking is working! Walking is meaningful work!

…. but I would, if I'd marched long enough, go somewhere, where there are beautiful faces, Faces with eyes, who carry the tail and reach down into the soul ….I would go to the cities, just, to look for the charismatic faces …. People, who have come into contact with themselves!!!!

Then I would steal this moment from myself or share it with the other. Even now in my really pitiful condition. (at best)

But it looks more like that, as if i would die in my own world.

But is that depression? What is depression foolish and artificial compared to the imagination, that we make of our life as paradise; also, the, they know, what they needed to live!!!!

Most can live like that ….. life is a series of circumstances, a chain of distractionandistraction.

If I play with antidepressants again now, then I have to ask myself, what I am trying to achieve: Do I want to make any concessions to the system? (who betrayed me / Myalgic. E)? I want to pretend, like I'm just damn depressed? In all these years, since I was taking antidepressants, never explained to me by a doctor, how such a drug works biochemically …. the idea, that a lack of serotonin makes me unhappy, is as absurd as it is compelling ….

…. because on the one hand I believe: that happiness is just that, what I described earlier above:

the, what should be on the wayside like bushes and flowers.

Or else it is misfortune: having a physical illness, which blocks the whole hormonal and brain-chemical chain or cuts it down to much too little , a metabolism screwed down to the physical death status….. and this: this is not a mental illness!!! It's a biochemical problem, as is the case with Myalgic Encephalomyelits, the playing dead syndrome happens …

I take any depression — all depression of the world, if I could give up playing dead syndrome for it!!!

My new antidepressant game now will be short-lived, the NW are so strong, that I couldn't even think of the dose, of which one says, der antidepressive Effekt setze dann ein …. and yes: i have this antidepressant effect, if there is, in a biochemical sense, never achieved with an antidepressant or neuroleptic. Neither with

Cipralex, Seropram, Seroquel, Remeron nor the countless mayflies like Tolvone, (Double vision) Risperdal, Valdoxan (Heart pain), Venaflaxine (Arrhythmien) still now Brintellix (Stomach stone and grind like burnt balloon etc.)

I do not know, whether my attitude towards life would change, if I could take the full dose of an antidepressant drug, provided, that this would chop up my reduced neurotransmitter axis ….

… I only know this one state: life in my body is so precarious, that i need to know, with which I could leave this precarious zone …. but this knowledge does not help me.

Like Cioran, I believe, that people, not see things, as they are. This has always made me very lonely and confused. On the other hand, these people can, as long as they can fuel their metabolism; exist in a physical well-being / bubble, they can keep the metabolism going (with or without love).

And that in turn would be the proof, that everything was just chemistry. Nothing but chemistry.

I love you. But now they have made this noise barrier.