23 September 2015

My mind hurts

The closer I get to bedtime the more I try to get away from it because it means having to sleep and wake up to another day. Another day of meeting expectations, fullfilling requirements and becoming what society deems to be ideal. Every night I lie down and my mind races at 800 km/h and the question I get is "What is all that for?" I don't know. I feel like I kept giving and giving and I got nothing for all that in return. I feel like a failure. Like a part of me is used and gone. Dead. And still resenting.

Conversations lead to silent ends. Writing leads to tears. I wish I knew what I could do other than listening to people tell me to "Stop thinking into things too much." Is it so easy to do that? That's like asking someone buried alive six feet under to just punch their way through to the surface. Easy peasy.

So does it even matter to get something in return for whatever it is I have given?
Maybe I shouldn't think about that.

I made the most insane decision in my life when I was 22 years old and I paid for it with a huge part of my life. I sacrificed everything I had known and I am angry. Angry because of the things I hear all these years from people telling me that I have to still be this way, that way, do this thing, do that thing, achieve this, obtain that, leave this, take that. I am sick of them telling me all the things that I am still incapable of. They have no right. No right to tell me what I am incapable of because they don't KNOW what I am capable of. They couldn't in a million years even imagine doing what I did, sacrificing what I sacrificed and fighting off all resentment, judgement and discrimination I face in the name of courage. But this is the price for going where you heart tells you to. You better have thicker skin than all the layers of this earth.

It DISGUSTS me... once... after hearing, not participating at, a xenophobic discussion amongst my classmates. I could've ignored this, yes. But the fact that I share one thing in common with all the foreigners in Germany (being foreign, regardless of reason, background or intent) made me hear them asking for so much from me: speak their language, walk like them, talk like them, think like them. So what is to become of what is left of me? I am not going to stoop down that low.

It makes me SICK to listen to such culturally-crippled minds who aren't capable of integrating themselves into other cultures yet at the same time shamelessly JUDGING and then DEMANDING others to integrate into theirs without the slightest gratefulness once this expectation has been met. They always need more. More. More!? What for?

Five years in Germany and I still feel like I'm under scrutiny. Perhaps the media is just fucked up and I should stop watching it. Perhaps the whole politics on the subject of Inclusion is the biggest piece of bullshit in mankind ever and having to discuss it in class is just giving me a headache.

And it's not just on the big scale that my mind hurts but just looking at how much I have given to come this far has disgusted me to the point that I really feel sick. I am no longer going to play by the rules of "monkey see, monkey do". So perhaps this is the time I reclaim what was once MINE because this shit isn't worth this much sacrifice on my part. And I am sorry for being the stupid perfectionist that I always have been but I loved being a perfectionist - and even that is what people are trying to tell me to get rid of. It is because of my perfection that I am even capable of ADAPTING into an environment that I was never born into and survive in such a short time. But that's that. I'm done giving.

If I'm going to ease my hurting mind then I need to reclaim what was once mine. My way of thinking, my art, my time, my writing, my likes and my dislikes, my expectations, my way of doing things.

I gave up all the things I once used to be passionate about at the promise that things will go a little smoother, be a bit better. Better my ass. I had a dream and it got stabbed right in the back for the trust I have given because I just happen to be nice. It was the ONLY achievement I ever could derive from in life and nothing can give me that because I'm the only person who can. I don't know why I trusted it that giving it up was the best thing to do. And I am mad at myself for having done that. I've been beating myself up for the past two and half years for this and for what?

The entire time I was empty of all euphoria and reassurance because I no longer created happiness for myself. I've always been doing what something/someone else asks of me. The entire time I thought good grades are going to get my dopamines going, setting goals are gonna keep me focussed, but instead it's giving me some serious cognitive issues. Why? Because it puts me in a competition with others - the dreaded Survival of the Fittest. Unfortunately this is our world. This is the life we ALL bring children into and blindly call it beautiful. Well it's only beautiful if you're either lucky or delusional.

Well you know what? I didn't asked to be born so don't blame me for not wanting to compete in such a stupid race.

All the while I've been trying to replace what used to motivate me with a virtual world with fake achievements, fake identities, fake missions and all because I was trying to fill an empty hole. And all with the wrong things because I wasn't allowed to go back to the thing that really made me feel GOOD ABOUT BEING ME.
All the while I would rather LIE than tell the truth, rather fake it than show it, rather break my promises than keep them, rather derive poison from petty things than leaving it be. I wasn't myself.

I used to think too much about my next painting, the way I was going to mix the paint, the way I was going to distribute the colours on canvas, the way I was going to depict the emotions and how I was going to exhibit a body of work and NOT how this fucked up world and everything in it is supposed to further fuck itself up and there is nothing else I can do about it! GOD, dear God, that had always been Your fucking problem, not mine.

I found peace in creating. Always have. Always will. And nobody, NOBODY should've had the right to take that away from me. I was stupid for letting it happen thinking that maybe for once I should take someone else's advice but that was a huge mistake. I gave away the last thing I had to hold on to and I shouldn't have. I'm taking it back now what's rightfully mine.

Over my dead body I'm going to make the same mistake again.


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