The hardest thing for a human is to be useless. If you have any skills at all, you will find your place in the world. If you haven’t … then how much is your worth?
I have a roof over my head. I have a job. I have people who bear to talk to me and people who think me nuisance. I have so much, I have so many! Today I ate huge piles of food. Because I could. Because I promised it’s my last time. My bill was huge (I was supposed to be saving). And yet I ate. My stomach hurts now. See? I can take in so much. I can have it all! You see? But for what reason? What is my reason?
People say (I genuinely do believe someone said it) that if I didn’t have what I have right now: food, roof, a bit of money, I would not search for that futile miserable Reason. I would not. I would pray god I had a bowl of soup that day. I’d pray I found at least some kind of job. I prayed, oh I wished, that my life would be what it is now. The me NOW would be my Reason.
Instead I think I wasted my life. I see such happy faces everywhere. Everyone found their true love, true passion, true everything by now. Someone’s traveling, someone’s having children, someone’s going on their business venture, building their careers. While I am sitting in my fucking kitchen (which is not mine, by the way) wanting to throw my head on the table and scream. I feel like I am fuming with anger and envy. I hate them all. Me who has everything simple, plain and little. Still me that has something to be grateful for. And yet I am in rage of envy each time I open Facebook news-feed or my colleague smirks at what I did last weekend.
I promised to change. Too many times I promised. I wanted to be a movie star, starting from the bottom, throwing my resignation letter in the air and proudly walking to my PERFECT life. Do you know that people can laugh and feel happy? Do you know that they can cheer each other up and hug before going to their “Dream/works”? Is that a movie script, you say? Can’t believe that’s something normal, are ya? I promised to be that person too. To lead a blissful life inside that perfect perfection. A little problem though …
It’s not that my expectations too high. It’s not that I don’t have that many hours a day. It’s not that I get a breakdown each time I make an improbable schedule and try to live with it for a week or so. I look into the room around, wander through the window feeling how my stomach starts to move. I hate myself. My body hates me. I hate my body, my mind hates me. I hate my mind. Each part of me hates each other. We align only in fear. Instincts come, pick us up and glue for a while. That wears off and here we go again.
I have so much to be grateful for. I have so much to be grateful for. I have so much to be grateful for. I repeat and repeat and repeat while I feel how regret fills my lungs and works its way up to the eyes. I open Word and start to write while I feel how envy wallows in the stomach. Can I build something on those shaky grounds?
The easiest thing for a human is to be useless. To sit in that comfortable corner and cry their eyes out. So you won’t have eyes in the end, so what? Will they think your worth is higher now?
I open a notebook and start to plan again. Tomorrow is Monday… The cycle continues.