Ein Trauriger Grabgesang

Entry 2: Moving On

It's halfway through April, over a year after the Corona Virus Pandemic swept through the world, leaving devastated survivors, and an aftermath of economic ruin.

And yet all I can think about sometimes, is how much I hate myself.

I'm almost at the point where the sudden break from young adult and middle age are married in a confusing period where I myself am never too sure when I am being too immature, or worse, aged in the eyes of society.

What I hate is that I am constantly rehashing nightmares of people who have either forgotten my misdeeds, or perhaps no longer don't even remember who I am. I can never go back and change the past, but that hasn't stopped me from ruminating.

A friend of mine had joking told a few of his friends that he was having a crisis to see which of them would respond accordingly. But for myself, I don't know if I deserve to even have a crisis.

Every day is just another cycle in the crisis that I acknowledge as existence.

Entry 1: On the conditions of love

One of the things that I have engaged in, and wrongfully so (now that I have more experience under my belt), is giving myself away so frequently without a fastidious method of inspecting the underlying issues that come about as a result of such actions. I hate that I can't be there for everyone that I have come to call people worth loving, at least on a personal, intimate level. It's an insatiable appetite to form bonds where previously, they had no reason to escalate beyond a simple friendship or acquaintanceship.

Is it because I am bored? I would not think that was the case. After all, I have many a things on my plate to keep myself busy. The likelihood that anything good will come out of this, is slim. Many times, I have stretched my net of emotions over the sea, and snared far too many fish. One would think I have learned my lesson going further along this path of life, but here I am still chasing after forbidden, impossible wants and desires. I am just a man, and a truly fallible man while at that.

On top of struggling with the basic tenets of being a decent human being, I now have to deal with the destructive nature of the heart, intertwining with erotic tendencies. Romanticizing with these rose colored contacts, constantly drawing me into a place where I am blinded to any consequences that often cannot be resolved with a moment's notice. The feelings themselves, are quite a force to reckon with from a purely fleshly point of view.

I have hurt too many playing such a dangerous game with hearts, both mine, and theirs.