This letter - a stream of thoughts - was written about 2 years ago. I found it in an old OneNote notebook on my computer. Here I am presenting a doubly abbreviated and organized text. Two years ago I was in pain, and now it's nice to remember it!
* * *
Today I woke up feeling as if the glass ceiling above me was cracking... And a wave of water was coming from above, first in drops and then in a flood.
I woke up feeling...
...How strange.
Panic.
I woke up feeling panicky. Fear.
I don't know what's happening to me. I instantly lost confidence in myself, in myself, in other people... in reality and in the world. My desires, my beliefs, my everything.
I feel like I'm about to die.
I don't understand anything.
Nothing.
I want nothing.
Only peace.
What's happening to me?
I don't understand.
Absolutely.
I want a drink.
Although I don't drink in principle.
I want to smoke weed like everyone else does.
Although I don't want to get intoxicated as a matter of principle.
I don't want to obscure my thoughts.
I don't want to make myself artificially light.
I don't want to love because I am drunk.
I don't want to talk because I don't have control of my tongue.
Well, yes - it's easier, better, more fun...
...But I don't want to intoxicate myself. In principle, no!
…
At the same time... I want to intoxicate myself.
This moment.
I feel like I'm drowning in the sea with concrete shoes.
I feel like my whole world has collapsed...
...And I have no idea why.
I don't get it.
I think about you all day, Simona.
I'm waiting for you to write me back.
Even though I have already written too much.
Even now - I write too much, after all.
I think too much.
I expect too much.
I want too much.
I dream too much.
I'm waiting too much.
I expect too much.
...I cry too much.
Why did I cry last time before we fell asleep?
Why did I just want to be hugged, like a little child... kissed on the back of the head, on the neck, on the ear, on the jaw, on the nose and on the lips?
What's happening to me?
Where is my self-confidence?
Why did I start to be afraid of... Things I was never afraid of?
Why am I afraid to write to you?
Why am I afraid to send this letter?
I know - or I'll send it sometime in the distant future, along with hundreds of other letters...
...Or I'll send it soon, on a foolish impulse that will make me regret it in the future.
After all, under thunderstorms...
...This letter, this jumble of thoughts, everything that I have suddenly become...
...It's just a bunch of marasmus.
I don't even know why I am writing.
I don't know anything anymore.
I just want to love you.
I just write what comes to my mind first.
I just want to live in peace.
I just want to be hugged.
Like a small child.
I just want to...
...Under thunderstorms...
WHERE IS MY SELF-CONFIDENCE?
WHERE ARE YOU?
WHERE?
WHERE IS IT?
…
Because I know that when I am confident, I am the most adorable, the coolest, the most awesome person ever. Well, at least to myself. It seems to others too. And in this moment, I don't know why, I've become completely different.
The switch flipped, the fuse went off, and my strength was gone.
Under thunderstorms.
Help me.
Please.
Be with me.
I gave.
I need my friends, but I can't reach them.
They are gone. Ba-ba. Bam-bam-bim and gone.
My best friend came back to Scotland and she would understand me and give me really good advice.
But damn.
I need to do what I have just realised.
I need to be a man.
Man the fuck up.
Because no one else will help me but myself.
I'm going to the city.
Go for a walk.
To the café.
Sit.
I need to regain my strength.
...Why did they disappear?
And why am I yearning to recover for the umpteenth time?
Where did my strength go?
Who am I?
…
WHO AM I?
UNDER THE PERCUSSION??
…
Other people are not part of me, the books say.
I believe it.
Other people are not part of me.
You, my girl, are not part of me.
Just why is it so hard for me to believe it?
Why do I still want to be with you, even if I am a little less so now that I have realised it?
As if you'll fix me?
As if you will make me better?
As if you're going to teach me everything you know yourself?
...And why do I feel inferior to you?
Why do I feel... Selfless and weak?
Why?
Don't think anything, Daniel, I was told yesterday by this Vi, nicknamed July Fifth.
And it's SO HARD for me to do it that I don't even know if it's possible anymore.
I hold my head with my hands.
I run my fingers through my hair.
I rub my closed eyes.
It's hard for me.
This moment.
...And I realise that at this moment I'm talking like a small, attention-seeking baby... Like some pathetic robot that the Ice king had made.
…
Don't think anything.
Don't plan anything.
Don't expect anything.
…
If I were to send you this letter right now, this very moment, I would meet the first two criteria. I am not thinking right now, I am just talking. I am not thinking, I am just writing. I am not thinking, I am only giving.
...But I would still have hoped.
I would still expect you to do better... Even though I don't know what I want!
I don't know what I want!
I DON'T KNOW.
I want to be with you.
And just as well without you.
Just so you don't see me like this.
…
I don't get it.
I don't understand anything.
Absolutely.
I don't understand.
My head is about to explode.
Babouum.
And it will explode.
…
I sigh.
I have been dozing all day today.
I want to cry, but not a single tear comes out of my eyes.
…
An hour ago, I opened the internet. I typed "how to regain self-confidence" into Google, opened the first few pages... and left them on without reading anything.
…
Thoughts stop.
I can't think of anything.
They stop.
Her...
Tyla.
…
I just want to be strong.
Being yourself again.
Regain your confidence.
Crying,
Daniel