The heaviest word.

There will be no suspense in it, I’ll say it bluntly: laziness.

One of the greatest sins out there. It became my middle name. The laziness that covers my spirit became a terrible frustrating burden. It dragged me into mediocrity. After so many years in which I’ve tried to outdo myself – I let go. I let go of everything, in the plenitude of the word “everything”.

Being idle, not being present in your own life is similar to a disease. It aches and leaves you with the reality of the feeling that you can’t do anything about it. Sometimes pitying yourself, most of the times blaming yourself.

I haven’t written anything for exactly two years. (Ok, maybe there was an attempt the previous winter, but after only three stories the main character was killed due to… lack of interest to continue his fictional life. Ghita, may you rest in peace.) Two years in which – guess what? – everything changed. Again. So probably this will be a long, curative post in which I’ll try to catch up and cope with all the changes. The irony of it is that during these precise two years I wasn’t able to integrate the incremental changes. I wonder if I’ll be able to do it in just one post. But I still posses the naivety to believe that writing has a deeply cathartic effect upon me. So help me God.

During the past two years I’ve lost everything. Some came back, so it was only a partial loss. Some went 5 feet under. Some lost their gaze upon me. Life unwrapped from one loss to another. I lost my North Pole, my belief(s), myself. And, damn it!, I’m still too lazy to start the reconstruction. Sometimes I feel like I need help, I demand for external help, I require a boost. But deep down inside, I know that this is a path that has to be walked alone.

I find myself sitting on top of the couch,with a blanket over my head, and simply feeling scared. A paralyzing fear that whispers: “what’s the point in fighting me? here’s where it’s safe, where nothing can hurt you anymore. why go out there in the world again, among all those sharks?”. The same undignified whisper I keep hearing for a too long time. And then yet another battle arises inside. A paradox. I’m scared of the world out there (yes, I, the one that left everything behind and ran into the big wilderness, just because I used to love this world!), and on the other hand, I’m scared of missing on opportunities. But the first type of fear over-conquers the second. Like… 70% – 30%. I’m too lazy to even imagine how those opportunities might even look like.
So Freud, let’s talk about this fear. Cause and effect? One of my favourites. Let’s go to the malicious roots of it. I stated before I lost everything in this hurricane, probably I’m afraid of losing again the little I have now. (My God, it is so hard to keep on writing. It feels like I can’t do it anymore. Like I’m self-sabotaging. I can’t find the red line in it. But I have to over-come this. It is a promise to you, my dearest friend). I’m about to cry now and I can’t even say why. It is painful to keep on writing. Literally painful. So I was talking about losses. I lost my faith, and this is what’s killing me. Because to my mind, “faith” encompasses hope, direction, love, self-sacrifice, total dedication… altogether. I lost my drive, as a result of losing tangential goods. Or Gods. No, not really. They weren’t truly Gods, I made them look like deities.

My dearest friend, I’ve reached that point we were talking about more than five years ago. Our deepest, enormous fear. You mentioned back then the fear of solitude. Of complete solitude. I remember my pitiful grimace. It backfired at terrible intensities. I find myself in situations I used to condemn, to pity or to ban. It seems like I lost myself too much this time. I can’t find a point to guide all my efforts by. The compass is broken. And I’m too lazy to fix it. Too lazy to go down there, in the lower layers of the consciousness and apply a thorough analyze. Now you might be too quick and think that in fact I’m too afraid of what I might find. This is not true. I’m simply too lazy to get my hands dirty. And fix it.
Maybe the fact that I didn’t share my latest experiences (with the attached feelings) with almost none of my closest friends, is my way if crying out for help. But I can’t imagine how this will look like. And I don’t even need to. Not to mention that I’m profoundly living the misery of the misunderstood. Or “Miss Under she Stood”. There are days in a row when my body aches in terrible ways and I don’t even show it. Let alone when my soul aches. It is not a permanent state, but it is recurrent. (I’ve misspelled the word “let alone” and the proofreading corrected it into “Stallone”. Just to give you a hint of how messed up things actually are.) So I also feel alone in my own way, but I have to admit that this is a self-imposed loneliness/ singleness.

There is still one thing I’m not too lazy to do. That is blaming myself and punishing me on a constant basis. I don’t remember the last time I genuinely told myself: you were great today. Or: good job! Or: you were beautiful. I started behaving like an old lady living from her memories of the Golden Ages. All memories kept in labelled Haribo packs. I used to be full of light, exuding on the outside. It’s all gone. There is no anchor.

I tell bad words to myself, I’m harsh on me. Time is passing by and I do nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing meaningful, not because the actions themselves lack in value, but because I put no passion into them. I’m not present. So instead of living each day, I die a little day by day. I physically feel how I’m fading away. Not even burning out, but fading away. I need to find a way. Otherwise I am going to… disappear. I cannot remember who I was and I can’t start over. I lack the motives, but not necessarily the means.

Don’t think I don’t notice how meaningless this post is and that there is no actual value into it. Artistic, nor personal.

There is an option on this dashboard: “move to trash”. This is tempting indeed, but I need you to give me the courage to continue. I need to escape in writing. I need to find a way, a way towards the light, a way to believe that it’s gonna get better. I need you to hold my hand and trust in me. I need (notice the two “e”s that are chained so tight to each other) you to understand me and just ignite the passion. I reckon I can’t be more outspoken than this. My dearest friend… I have in front of me an empty musical score. Please, present me the rhythm. The harmony should follow your efforts.

The heaviest word is laziness. To hold my head up. To fight. I am too tired. Too too tired…

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