“They always needed to give me more than I give them for me to have a transient moment of believing they love me. Is it only because of how I was brought up? How much a person can love if he or she has been in the center of mother's existence? That dynamic cannot be without consequences. That love is not real love. That love comes from mother not having lived her life. For the inability to separate from child mother will employ many different manipulative strategies. The child will need to find a way to destroy the demon. Leaving and living completely independent solves it. They do not have a leverage now.”
“i seet it all, and yet, i am just another monkey.”
“and in this country, the only country, the country i was born in, i feel different. like in high school. the confident madman has fallen asleep now. it always does, here. deepest insecurities, stemming from those times, times of upbringing, come back. only after a few drinks, the madman awakens. this place evokes what is closer to the core. walls upon the walls, and here, i am closest to the king. how well can i challenge him?”
“through habituation it becomes more and more difficult for core forces to release their energy. the need for novelty is at play at every level. how do you treat, let's say, intense maladaptive sexual fantasies that make simple acts of sex (just penetration) not enough? you get used to things, and sub-personalities are as real as you (what is you? another topic), they get used to things as well. cut the stimulus for a while for homeostasis to occur. you get used to money, or travel, or whatever. you start wanting more. the ID gets used to simple sexual acts. complexities (fetishes) emerge as a result. another thing, when simple things are not satisfied, we create grandiose ideas about ourselves. what we do, sub-personalities do as well.”
“tease. annoy. it is playing. play.”
how badly i want to contact you.
how badly i want to apologize.
i acted like a complete selfish childish cunt.
but the thought of seeing you,
fucking you,
terrifies me.
i would go back to hell.
i am in hell.
what the fuck happened?
colorful mornings with future plans.
dark evenings losing my mind.
but the thought of seeing you,
fucking you,
excites me so much.
i would go back to heaven,
for a day.
and then back to hell,
for a week.
you are fucking insane.
i am fucking insane.
you cracked me open in ways nobody else did.
my heroin,
i hope you can forgive me.
“you cannot get to the core reason for anxiety without a slow process. walls upon walls are build on top of that - on a core fear or a core desire. there will be many different wars.”
“A retarded high blind man told me "life is beautiful" while laughing.”
Summer sky.
Fast motorcycles.
I can't stop dreaming about you.
How can something be so right?
And so wrong?
At the same time.
Summer sky.
It's so alive.
Soon it will all be dead.
Summer sky.
Birds so alive.
You are my love.
Summer sky.
I am so drunk.
I imagined you in a wedding dress.
First thought in the morning.
Last one at night.
No one has ever made me so insane.
“destroy what they are acting, and they will become anew.”