Under pressure

It's easiest to break my electronic silence at the moments when I decide to write 20 minutes before my ride arrives, my expectation of the text is already low.

In general, I found it hard to find the soul to come back consistently here in recent years, fewer experiences so exhausting that I have to write about them or struggle to remember them. I suppose that in all kinds of binding changes my twenties come to an end with a succession of experiences of some imagination, Too fast and too deep, obsessive thoughts about the dark sides of me and the desire to be better than myself alongside successes and grand failures.

I'm going to celebrate my 29th birthday in two days, it may be an arbitrary and stupid decision to close my twenties. I guess I'll live my life without being too much of a person at the age of 31, but if I've decided to pretend to be a human being, I am strengthening this Gillette Pleasure.

I am happy about my acceptance of myself. In the early 1920s, it sounded like a slogan to me, what is self-acceptance, what was expressed, I did not miss it even though I allowed the pain to lead me the way I chose, to internalize society's attitude towards me and correct myself, I already had the tools to understand how much I hated myself for nothing.

I've been wrong a little on the way, but I have no regrets, not even a little, even the deep relationships I shared with you, I promised not to look back and I never did, certainly not in thought of what was lost, I always looked forward to the next love, Whatever it was, my determination to escape never made me doubt. I wonder if I will feel the same when the amazing supply of women on my way diminishes as I cross the same arbitrary line to the age of marriage, which I have no doubt I am not yet ripe for.

I'm afraid to lose here in this exhausting hippestry night, to forget myself and who I was when my legs were planted maybe a little too deep In the ground.

I find myself less afraid than I thought of navigating without the compass. My father, yes, I will always lack the certainty of what he would say. He still managed to surprise me with what he had to say about the issues I had brought to his doorstep, but I already knew how I wanted to navigate the world. It might be okay to have to do it in the Eco-Chamber of my fucking mind.

I think I could have gone further in life if I had been a little more critical of myself, I think I could just as well have finished my life with a disgusting job at meager sales with a woman I chose for all the wrong reasons, but I'm not there or there , And I did it on my way. I dare say I'm even pleased with the result.

Grace.