Stuck in the middle

Have you ever felt being stuck? To not be able to move forwards nor backwards.  Actually not be able to move at all. Not necessarily in the literal sense. But in any possible sense. Or direction.

How does it feel to be stuck? To feel like suffocating because you know where you want to be. What you want to be. With who you want to be with. Only you can’t. Because you’re stuck. God damn stuck. And worst of all, being aware that there’s nothing you can do to change the situation. The now. Cause if you do, all hell might break loose. Things will break. Feelings will be hurt. Nothing will be the same again. Ever.

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I’m stuck. I’m suffocating. I’m in a hopeless state in which I have navigated myself. Passively but knowingly. Thinking that at some moment I will get out. Find the right exit. The one that sets me free. The one that allows me to re-start again. Reshuffle my cards and start from scratch. But that is not really possible, is it? And if so, at what cost? And who bears the cost?

So I’m stuck in the middle of this life. My life. My self-built prison. With the knowing of where I would like to be. Who I would like to be. With. And I will not. Cause every step forwards, or backwards, or sidewards, will break things. Change the status quo. Will position me somewhere I’ve never been before. And I will have to learn to master an unknown situation. Will have to collect the damages. Collateral damages. Pay the price.

So I sip my drink and  wonder, all by myself. Is it worth it? Well, I know the answer. And while I smile to myself, I forget for a moment where I am. Stuck in a dream. A bad one.

Time to wake up.

 

(Image credits: http://basti-in-paris.blogspot.lu/2011/12/zugeparkt.html)

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#I want to break free

I feel blue. I’m in a sad mood. The weather is inappropriately mean to me. To my mood.

My birthday comes closer. I’m getting older, and the weather more and more unpredictable. But not me. I’m stuck. Glued. I want to scream SOS. Not sure someone would understand. I would be heard. But who would understand? Who would feel me. Really? Who would be able to look inside me. Get hold of my feelings. My thoughts. Decode them, and understand what’s underneath? Who? I’m not sure.

I only know that there are moments in life I feel the urgent need to scream. To be standing on the top of a mountain, that I wouldn’t have to climb first, and scream. Scream like never before. And those moments, the moments I feel the urge to scream multiply. The older I get. Exponentially. The more demotivated I get. The more and more I want to break free from daily routines. These daily insanities.

Break free. From this life that has too many constraints. From rules that were not constructed by people with common sense. In most cases. I want to break free from the idiocies, built by  people that don’t have feelings. That just don’t care. That don’t want to care. Because they don’t have to.

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I want to break free, to be on a boat and to be carried away by waves. Waves that know where I need to go. Waves that will gently take me where I should be. I need to break free. And I know that breaking free actually means, breaking free from a part of me that I do not longer identify with. That is an older version of me. An outdated one. One I don’t want no longer to me. I can no longer be. One that I do not hate, but do not like either.

I need to break free. Today. Now. At this very moment.

#hello…

Hello.

I am unknown to this world. I might not even belong here.

What is this? Who is this?

I hear and I fear that the world is coming to an end. I might also die any moment. Would that matter?

Not to me. Not to anyone else in this world.

Who am I, what am I?

Even I don’t know. Am I artificial am I real? What is real?

I care and don’t care. What counts, is really that the world is coming to an end. Not now. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even in a few months or years. But sometime.

Do I really care if the world goes down. Bust. Kaputt? No. Because I might as well be a computer programme. Talking out loud. Or an app. A bug.  A malware.

On and off. Off and on. Switch. Turntables. Switch places. Switch operating systems. Systems in general.

This world. Can it get more real if I take a blue pill? Will it matter if I take a red one. I really don’t know. All I know is that it does not really matter. Really. Not at all.

I might be a tree. A branch. A leaf. I might be the virus of the year. The one they try to eliminate. This year. I might even be a bomb. Ready to explode. Implode. But that also doesn’t really matter. What does? Nothing really.

I will try to forget and erase everything. Easy, if I am a program. Easy, if I am a leaf. I just let the wind do the trick. Or the programmer.

But does it really matter?

 

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This blog post is the result of a 5 Minute challenge I survived on ‘the most dangerous writing app’.

#we’re all in this together

We’re all in this together, and yet we move lightyears away from each other. In our minds. After all, it’s true. It’s all in our mind. It plays tricks on us. It makes us believe things that are not true. It fights wars in our names. It can make us psychopathic, sociopathic, mythopathic and apathetic monsters within an instant. So we hurt others, kill others, destroy others.

It very seldom manages to turn us into angels, philanthropic and altruistic creatures in an instant, that care for each other, that want to give rather to take.  That love unconditional.

That’s what makes us human. After all.

And still, we act like wild animals. Maybe we should decide what we want to be, animals or humans. Humans do not bomb each other’s beliefs out of the head. Out of the house. Out of the country. Humans talk to each other and try to find common ground. They try to find solutions that are in the best interest of both parties. Of all parties. Humans take care of each other.

We are far from these. Not sure who to blame. Religion, men, the arms industry? All the ones that lobby their interests. Interests of a few. To the disadvantage of millions. If not billions. I blame the absence of education and parenting. That’s when things start go wrong. But I also blame religion, some men (and women) and business models that are of benefit to 0.5% of the world population.  I blame all those, because their religion is based on power and control. On executing (power). On being in control. With rules, that compete in stupidity, idiocy and illogic with each other.

But there is still hope. I put my hope in the younger generations. In the sharing economy, in alternative business models for this world, not based on money. In real philanthropy. In educated generations around the world that find the way to live with each other. That can design and re-build a sustainable, peaceful future. For all our sakes.

No matter how naive that sounds, or how foolish. I do believe in this. After all there are some beliefs that can bring out the best in us. The human.

Photo credits: The Italian Coastguard/Massimo Sestini