The first meeting determines what relationship I will have with a man in the future. I am not certain of this, but it seems that way. I am unsure about whether it applies to women as well. But the way I get off with someone just seems to stick. Will I be serious? Will I taunt you? Will I flirt with you? Will I be nonsensical? Depends on what I decided to stick with when I met you. And from then on you will trigger that behavior in me.

At the age of 23, I gave up.

I have problems. I think I have problems. Some days i feel like the king of the world and some days I feel like a worthless trash that takes up space. And at both phases I am absolutely convinced of my state. The reasonings are perfectly logical. Sometimes I am better than everyone else. I have better traits, common sense, looks, attitude, ideas, skills than anyone else. I am of the best breed. The other times I am useless. Never amounted to much, never will. Nobody will take me, I was a failure since the start, barely scraping. I don't have what it takes to exist.

I don't know if everyone else experiences this. I can't read minds. And I don't talk about this. It is very hard to convey this matter verbally for me. It comes out simplified. And it appears that there is no real answer or problem. Yet it persists.

I thought I was better at expressing myself in writing. Rather, I think I may struggle to express myself when speaking. I wonder if anyone can see it. I can't articulate and what sentences make sense to me, they don't make the same sense to others.

But it's no different with writing. I can't convey what I mean to you. You will read it with your own lips and intonation, not mine. Is this the case with everyone? Do you try to imagine in what manner I would speak it out? So much ambiguity. You have to really try.

Lastly, wants. They are important, everybody has wants and has to have them too. I had big wants. I think. Lots of ambition. Now, there's nothing I want anymore. I don't have what to look forward to. Some things, if they happened 'it would be nice', but I'm not dying for anything anymore. It is so very important to have wants. I think. I don't really want anything anymore. I'm OK staying at home for months. I don't want to cook anymore - and I used to love to cook. I don't want to eat. I get hungry, but I'd rather there was no need to eat. I don't want to go to sleep either. There is nothing to look forward to. I don't want to have anything to look forward to. This comes together with the belief that I'm not good for anything and would not reach my goals. I am pretty useless to be honest.

Something in my head doesn't work and I don't know why. Is it that I am just lazy and need a kick in the butt? Is it that simple? I tried already. I wasn't good. People don't struggle with this. They get over it and get on. Why don't I? Tell me.

At the age of 23, I gave up.

I wish I had somebody to love. Truly love, like there was nothing else that mattered in the world, like my very being depended on it!

First love. It's so innocent. It used to be. That, and the fact that I'm older now. Women my age have their mental innocence taken away by experiences. Could I ever find someone to share the love I dream of? Not in this day and age.

My heart may still be pure, but my mind is tainted with the demons of this world. I stopped trusting, I stopped believing, I stopped waiting.

I wish I had somebody to love. Truly love, like there was nothing else that mattered in the world, like my very being depended on it. But love like that does not exist…

I see but faults and shortcomings everywhere I look.

This is what it means to be the average grownup.

I am a very strict man. The concept of forgiving is alien to me. I will shoot you down once I get a chance. Oh, an I am an angry man too. I don't get annoyed. I get properly angry. And if I'd let me have my way, I'd be shouting and violently beating people up every other day. Too bad I cannot. I wish it were that simple.

The more I live the more it seems to me that the world is rotten. I can think of no place in the world that I would say is great to live in. And the people. I've grown to think that they are all idiots. A select few are above. I am stupid, I know nothing and generally am pretty worthless. Realistically. Shit personality too, but I enjoy it. And when someone underperforms compared to me, this enrages me. How can you be more useless than me?? What kind of a retard are you? And then I start acting like I know it all - because others are even less than myself. How can I respect someone like that?

And everyone's delusional and submerged in their small lives. There's much greater stuff and it's so grim and here you are going to a theater play in London. Not famine or environmentalist stuff, I'm not a charity. Life is vast and grim, the world is. And there is nothing to it. Most everything we do is mundane.

But we push forward with no regard.

You'd think that you're alone in this. But were all together in this solitude. Right next to each other.

I have no one else to talk to about things like this. Yesterday a girl passed me. I looked at her and she looked at me. She had an unseen look in her eyes. That of uncorrupted mind, inquisitiveness and calm wildness of the nature. It made me feel electrified. It made it hard to maintain eye contact. Her face had the purest expression I could ever hope for. In that, she appeared to me like a someone so rare in existence, that the image of her could never be born in my imagination, and yet her features made her familiar to myself.

It's perplexing how far human mind can take things. It's a good thing I'm able to convey my emotion.

Sometimes a sense of clarity and realism kicks in. And then I know that I'm barely scraping, that I don't have a likable or even good personality, that I'm emotionally crippled and that I have close to no chances of creating the family I want.
It's best to ignore thoughts like this. They are not pessimistic, they feel very grounded. I ignore it even when I know it to be true. It's best to remain delusional. One day my expectations might coincide with reality and then I will be able to wrongfully attribute it to triumph of the will.