SCREAM

CHILLOSOPHY

That day, I thought that if I had said different words, do something different, I could have changed it. I felt empty, helpless, surprised, I didn’t know how to say what I felt because I didn’t know the right words for it. I’m not sure I know those words now. The world has changed, and what’s the point of thinking about what if…

- People like you shouldn’t reproduce, a quote from Gerta’s father kept her going, it was a quote like a phantom bone stuck in her throat, there’s a pain but no bone, no surgeon can help here

People say that we begin to appreciate life only when we know for sure that tomorrow we will be gone. Only then, and the air is easier to breathe and the weather does not seem so cold and panic attacks give up their positions. We are all going to die. Ta Dam. But isn’t that enough for us? Do we need a specific date to start living for real? Yana had a cool secret, she had the ability to live in two realities, but it turned out that she wasn’t really living in either one. Everything was by the book, she practically died, lost everything, but then chance gave her the opportunity to get more, to live what is impossible for the average person. The question is, then, why does she still not appreciate every moment and think it would be better to disappear altogether rather than live a double life? Freedom of choice. This is the conclusion that came to my mind as I scrolled through the meanings and speculations in my head. It’s not the location that upsets her, the conditions, the weather outside her window, or the people who write to her today. It is the impossibility of choice that upsets her. Stagnation in a situation you didn’t choose, from which no matter how hard you try, there is no way out. Like financial freedom, which allows you to choose the scenery for today and for tomorrow. But the lack of freedom of choice doesn’t stop people who have a couple of hours to live from enjoying and doing the impossible and unacceptable here and now. So it is an illusion. I wondered what I would do if I knew I had one day to live. I would lie there and wait for the end. But I wish I could say that I would run after the train that was leaving and try to live that day as if the whole world were on my side.

-You can’t become enlightened by drinking a hallucinogenic liquid, but you can die, said the euphoria and love guru of going around dark corners

They banned my most beloved cartoon. We were discussing it with a random person I called on a random number because it’s no longer popular to make plans. This cartoon is about a wolf and a hare, as it is now fashionable to say, who are in a toxic relationship. Fun chases, pranks, fights, comebacks, and all-conquering love. A cute children’s cartoon that has suddenly become LGBT propaganda. Oddly enough, when I watched it as a kid, I didn’t sexualize the funny connection at all, and what’s even stranger, I didn’t become a lesbian. Wild. Strange propaganda had a strange breakdown. I read a post by a mother whose son she said had decided he was gay. She is suffering, so she wrote through every sentence. Her suffering is unbearable because it’s one thing to talk about it from the outside and another to have it happen in your family, with your child. The thought of her son being fucked in the ass by another man makes her suffer. Great suffering is experienced by a woman. Suffering that everyone around her must notice and slap her, which, like during a hiccup, brings her down from her disappointment in her ideas of what her son should be. What about the suffering of mothers whose children have cancer and other terrible diseases when their child is injected every day with the cost of an island in the Maldives? I’m afraid their suffering is not comparable to that of a woman who cares about her son’s ass, although it is possible that she, too, gets fucked in the ass by a man from time to time. Well, that’s all lyricism.

- Fibonacci number or Duel of Potatoes? I asked the nurse after I came out of anesthesia, hypnosis, and multiple hallucinations

Now I realize that people don’t think about you or me, and they don’t care at all what anyone says about you and me. They’re all about themselves; they think about themselves before breakfast, after breakfast, and all the way up to ten minutes after midnight. They are a thousand times more worried about their own little headache than they are about the news of yours or my death. Dale Carnegie. “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.”