That certain feeling, the one that combines all of them into one and threatens to burst. All of them together, in one entity.a serial killer and an annoying old baba have to live in harmony.

I have been talking about how everything is connected to something today. How every action causes a reaction on incomprehensible levels. I am getting sick of it sometimes. And sick is too nice of a word. Much too nice. You know how I say that I don't care for expectations and duties and so on.. I don't care for them, true. But I care for people. And it makes the decisions I have to make sometimes incredibly hard. It is like I have to choose who I care for more. And when that happens, I feel like grabbing an axe and shatter whatever it is that is holding it together. Because the only hard thing about it is maintaining that bond. Freaking ironic that what makes a person's life richer than that of a Sultan's is also the one that causes the most pain. I am realizing it more and more why we all like to follow somebody else's orders. Good behaved sheeps. Because the need for us to deal with 'real' world and 'real' decisions is taken from us. We can't be blamed. Mindless trip that gives us almost a perverse pleasure. No use for a head. In moments like this one, I have to realize it really well. I am pathetic.

Why is there this deep paradox inside of me? Almost forming my core. I don't know. Every single freaking decision I make.. none of them can be considered as purely a good one. I have to sacrifice something, anything in order to pick something else. All this.. bleh, opposites, are killing me. A part of me. The one that truly does believe that everything is 'going to be alright'.

I am painting a painting. And the painting has many parts. Different stories, colors, all forming a part of what makes it what it is. But in order to continue painting, I have to paint over some parts of it I love. That are essential. But in order to move on and continue working on it, I have to let some of it go. How can I? Without it, it ain't the same. It feels like I am painting over parts of my personality. My being itself. And if I continue doing that, I will be forever a cripple, even bigger than I am right now. But it seems that I either have to sacrifice myself or others. One or the other. If I continue doing whatever it is that makes me feel like a masochist, I will simply bleed to death. My soul will. Haha, I kind of feel emo right now.

No matter how much time passes, how long I think about it, the actions I make.. I am always back to this. I have to leave everything behind. Grab a new canvas. Paint that one. And a new one. And another. Not just doing it all on one. Either that (I dont like that possibility so much), or just forget there were ever any limits, edges to it. To simply paint. Wherever, whatever, however. I think I will do that. Right now actually feels like a really important point of my life. One that roughly shapes the rest of it. Thinking about it now, that edge was always really important. That.. restraint of lines, emotions, wishes.. Always being there, limiting everything without me even noticing it. Haha. Damn, it all seems so silly to me now. I feel much better. I know what to do. It seems there is no escaping. Death is an option ofc, but that is for hopeless losers.

Few things have to be changed. Ruthless truth. Has to come into effect. Blinding yourself, blinding others, living an imaginary life.. bah. And all that almost purely for fear of losing. And because of it, that is precisely what happens. Losing a life.. way of life, ideology of it. Belief. It is worse than losing a leg. So, no more. Another one I am increasingly angry with myself about. Losing my calm. Why? It only shows my immaturity and innability to cope with the situation.  To hell with it, I can do better. I am and I will. Haha, will see what I will think about the topic tomorrow as I wake up, but for now that is what I sincerely believe in.

This whole writing of mine is one pure mess. But it ain't meant to be an entertaining/educational read, it is what helps me grasp the concentrated thoughts in my head that always like to evade me. And that got accomplished marvelously.

I ain't going to try to please anyone anymore, unless that is what pleases me too. It is a form of lying. Hypocrasy. Sheep-system. If I have to be a sheep, at least I will be the black one. Sven. That naughty little sheep. With the difference that the dog will be a cute little pupppy wanting to be cuddled and that grandpa will have better things to do. And that I have really little interest in the point of the game itself.  Understand it however you want to and like. :P

That is it from me. I hate typing on Simon's keyboard, but it was worth it. I am ready to paint the clouds.