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I’ve been blue that last few weeks. I guess this is no secret — there was one special friend who could even see it with very scant evidence.

It’s not important, either. Just one more cycle of disillusion, of getting disappointed with people, of having things not really work out too right in the end, everything just all too familiar (except for one piece of bad health-related family-related news). By the way, the people involved seem to suffer from an weird inverse-big-brother effect, whereby they assume everything online is directly related to them even when it certainly isn’t, so i can’t really talk openly about all of it.

But i want to talk about what was different this time. I want to talk about angst.

When you’re down, and i have been down over and over, many many times in my life, sometimes you get around to asking yourself: But haven’t i been here before? Didn’t i feel this same pain way back then?

And i have. But in the last (what? 5? 10?) years i have really outgrown all my depression. I had a real big one back in 2009, and it had to come slowly and insidiously to get its paws all over me. KirbyBits says that, when you crawled yourself out of literally believing to be the worst human being alive, you develop some skills to deal with those feelings, this makes you stronger in a strange, unusual way. I even tried to write about this, i guess…

So i was feeling this total lack of motivation and i was, like, “Again?”, but when my shrink asked me just this, there was something different.

The difference was angst.

Instead of feeling bad about myself, i felt bad about the others. I just felt like telling everyone to go eff themselves. I was totally sick of asking forgiveness for being better. And i wanted them to blow. So:

GO FSCKING FSCK YOURSELVES, MOTHERFSCKERS!

Ah, that felt just good.

Anyway, what was i talking about, again?

It’s weird that this angst does not solve the problems. You end up breaking good friendships that could have been mended, for one. But still, angst is good. It is good to just allow the shit to hit the fan when it has to. And it is important to keep the tit-for-tat strategy, to allow group growth by being cruel with inadequate behaviour. To punish the childish attention-seeker. And more than anything, i guess angst is needed for the attitude of “between me and you, me, no questions asked”, this assumption that you put yourself first just because, who cares, and it has to be this way.

Now that it is over, it becomes hard to really put my finger on it, to write about what was wrong, to remember the exact feeling. As a child, i had blues frequently, and when i was down i could unfocus my vision in a very special way, it was my own form of connection to the universe, a strange shy-kid style of enlightenment. I have lost this capability, i can’t really feel like it anymore, but i still have the memory of it and it makes me stronger. And after my latest slump there is also this feeling of losing a connection.

It’s motivation. I don’t really have much of it now. I (for the nth time) got to the conclusion that people just can’t understand. So it is really hard to write for them, but on the other hand, to just do stuff seems also completely pointless since the people who come to see my art would make that into parts of their pointless lives. I mean, i can see the beauty in the rain allright, even the meagre beauty-strength of life is an spectacle to my eyes. This has ceased to be a problem for so much time that i don’t even remember the last step. The point is: Company?

Because, really, saying “You are not good enough for me” is a prophylactic measure. That’s what i have learned of lately.

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