Reflections on Madness


Fuck. Everything hurts and I don’t even know why. That’s kind of profoundly unsatisfactory. Besides: Fuck. Again, I haven’t managed to do anything productive with my day. The most useful thing I did was work out, but it’s part of the routine anyway, so it doesn’t really count. Hm. Routine. Maybe that’s the solution to all the questions and problems. Maybe I have to let the work on my book become a daily routine and schedule time for it regularly. One hour every day for the beginning. That’s 60 minutes more than I’ve spent on it in the last few weeks, so it’s a huge step forward in any case. After that I can still hang around for the rest of the time and feel like shit. Wuuuiiii. My head spins freely, but that’s okay. Still, those 60 minutes sound like a pretty solid plan. It’s a start. Somehow I finally have to get back to being able to go on with this project and I certainly won’t do that by sitting here every morning complaining that I can’t get anything done. Well, there’s something liberating about that, too, but I don’t think anything will really change with such a simple statement. And somehow I don’t want to sit here tomorrow and think about the fact that it didn’t work again. So: Action Plan! Today I will spend an hour to work on my book. Tomorrow too. And the day after tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And, oh, it becomes clear where I’ m heading. Routine and such. Important! Remember! Man needs routine, otherwise he will wander through life completely confused and has no idea what all this nonsense is all about. But instead of writing, I could also play Dota all day long. That’s true. But I could also write an hour and still play after that. Then I would at least not feel so completely useless and degenerated. Wouldn’t that be an attractive trade-off? I mean, I’ve been sitting here every day for days writing about how crappy it is that I can’t get my shit together. Maybe, just as an idea, it wouldn’t even be SO wrong to counter this at least a little bit. So that for once I don’t feel like the last piece of garbage, but perhaps just like the second last. Small steps and that. Wouldn’t that be desirable? Once again spending a day where not everything feels wrong and meaningless, but you can look back with a little pride on what you have achieved? Wouldn’t that be worth fighting for? Wouldn’t this moment be worth dying for? Well, perhaps not necessarily, the joy about that moment would not last too long. But a little pathos has never harmed anyone, least of all me. Or? OR? Ha! What a splendid lie! Heavens, what a roller coaster in my head. Once here, all of a sudden there and no idea where it’s going next. If only real life were always so simple. Close your eyes and do it. Live and don’t think about tomorrow. Wait a minute. Wasn’t that a Bollywood movie at some point? Where are my fucking singers and dancers?! How incredibly absurd (but also somehow cool) it would be if suddenly cineastic dance and singing interludes were played randomly in one’s own life. I could get used to the idea. But I’m afraid that sooner or later the whole thing might become a bit too exhausting and you’d rather do without it again. Fascinating. I wouldn’t have expected to write about Bollywood today. My head surprises me every time anew. Or are these just further symptoms that I am slowly but surely drowning in complete madness and wallowing in this insanity? I don’t know, but if this is madness (which I don’t believe, by the way) then it seems to be quite entertaining. At least for me. And since I’m the only one reading all this stuff so far, it’s not going to kill me. However, it would be interesting to learn how outsiders would react to these mental digressions. Damn it, I’m really curious. By the way, I have the suspicion that many people feel that way and so many things jump around in their heads that they would like to say or do, but don’t dare because of social fragility. Unfortunately. Otherwise it could be very entertaining. But if I ever reach the point where I publish these lines unedited, it could be quite exciting. If anyone is interested in my messed-up life at all. Who knows.

3 thoughts on “Reflections on Madness

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