• 09 Dec, 2025 *

A memory here and there. Previous states of identity. All of it is irritating.

I’m here in the office, as usual. Bothered over what use of these files are.

I spend time reading materials from the outside. While I can see the useful nature of the literature, it doesn’t bring me closer to a core idea of what I am and who I could be.

Regardless of this, I’ve realized that I don’t enjoy the consistent and forced company of others. Self-driven productivity...

An opportunity appears. Leave the country, learn a language, be cared for. I spend a few months considering it. The nonconformity sends many reminders but went unnoticed by... me. Whoever that is.

Right. I shouldn’t choose that path because it will bring me immense grief. Violation of my body. Expectations of a role. Right.

Why should I ever believe the thoughts that I had when the same person tried to end this life? Start it again. I’m waiting to see what was worth experiencing. Hope of a kind, but hardly considered as one.

A thought I had was that I am passenger in my own life. A third person view. That’s quite true.

The Romantic

I note here that I’m an anxious avoidant romantic and have no real desire to change it. There would be a burden on the other person to experience the change alongside with me. I don’t want to share it. It’s mine and I have no faith in another to endure it. That’s my romance. My affair with deeply set mistrust and lack of confidence in another. Do note this for yourself: I’ve had ten moderately healthy relationships with my considerable effort of seventy percent vulnerability. The thirty percent of misery is what I know and love. That is the real entity of me.

The Tragedy

The wonderful fictional pairings of lovebirds tragically being separated. How common is it really for one to remain with their songbird for a considerable amount of time? Is it really that brave to risk the chance of complete obliteration after wholehearted vulnerability with another? Being in the destroyed state my whole life, it comes as no surprise of an end and honestly, a relief. "Thank god. I almost had hope." I would say.

Likability

You wouldn’t know it, Observer, but my likability is high among many friends and strangers. I genuinely connect with another. I see inside, I see the core easily and happily greet it. Be seen and be comforted. I enjoy that nurturing action. But it is a defect of mine. To see others and see nothing in reflections. I have no core. I’ve looked for it. Bits and pieces floating in the belly is nothing to me. But it is everything to the other person. Again and again, people gain attachment to me.

Again, I forget to be cold, see less and speak less. The eyes notice the core, the mouth begins to speak and the bond begins to glue. Not again! Not again. Not again. I’ve yet to master any real practiced script to reject another. "I hope this isn’t cruel. I hope a negative worldview isn’t proven." Others should have hope, the ability to recover from a rejection because they are the common kind. The world depends on the good souls.