Tragedy

12.05.2019

Only when you no longer care, you have nothing to lose. That’ s how it was with this Fightclub aphorism, which all the cool kids in the block used to whisper conspiratorially to each other. Or was it another? Doesn’t matter either. Like so many things. Quiz question: How can you tell that your mood is going downhill? Obviously because even the hobbies once pursued with pleasure don’t have the desired, satisfying effect. Very difficult question, I know. Without me no one would have known that. Never ever. Fuck, the music I’m listening to sucks. That’s better. There is a tragicomic aspect to it. For several weeks now I have been writing these pieces in a form as if I would share them with a larger audience at some point. But so far only one person has ever read these thousands of words. Your mother. Ha. Unexpected plot twist. Nobody expected that. Least of all me, when I started with this sentence, but my head perceived it in a very blunt way to be funny, so why not follow an impulse? The advantage of it, if the only person who knows these words is yourself, is that even the most idiotic thoughts can flow in and nobody asks strange questions. Speaking of questions. I was wondering earlier whether it might not be time to dive into fictional worlds more often. Not by consuming the thoughts of others, but by creating my own. I could go back to Sangea more often. This gloomy, dystopian and yet at the same time so wonderful world, which so far only comes to life in my head. I think of the characters I have started to develop so far, of their dreams and fears and where their journey might lead them. I don’t know what the whole story will look like yet, but character and world design have their own unique appeal, so I don’t have to at this point. But yes, maybe now is the time for me to come back more often. Since I don’t feel much of a thrill about playing games anyway (yes, I know it sounded quite different yesterday, so what), I can actually put the time I gained into the story of Sangea as well. We all have the same time frame at our disposal. Every day it’s the same 24 hours for all of us. Eight to ten hours of it usually go for healthy sleep, but that leaves us at least fourteen hours that we can use wisely. I just have an idea. What if, just for the fun of it, I were to develop a specific daily schedule? Starting with the morning routine, through meals, reading, sports, education, writing and everything else that goes with it. I could make a nice Excel spreadsheet and see what it looks like in the end. Maybe this will help me to get my messed up life under control somehow. After all, things can hardly get any worse than they are now. Well, that was a lie, it probably always gets worse, but the decisive point is that you should rather strive for the opposite direction anyway, right? Action is the antidote to despair. Fucking autocorrection by Word. Just had to correct the sentence manually, because the software can’t cope with my superior writing style. It will take quite a while until the age of machines will dawn and we will become their slaves devoid of will. Although this idea has its charm. If I don’t know that I am a slave, am I interested in this condition at all? Everyday philosophy in the middle of the night and the only one with whom I can talk about it is myself. What a very unfortunate situation. Probably many things would become easier. The more freedom I gain, the more confused I become. Perhaps an externally imposed, clearly structured plan would actually be beneficial to someone in my mental state. How do you get things actually done? Burn the boats. Only when there is no going back, when we have no choice but to go forward, only then can we find true greatness. Instagram I come. That all sounds so terribly flat and trivial. Is it me? Are my thoughts really not more mature than dull platitudes? Tragic. All-encompassing tragedy. In every respect. I had hoped for more from this life. Many others probably, too. Others are disappointed by me? Ask me. The person I have always disappointed the most is myself. Curtain falls. Shot. Dramatic exit. Darkness. Everything is silent. Thunderous applause. The tragedy of life as a stage play.