As the world has not given us a Pulitzer for the second magazine yet - they claim we haven’t been nominated, we assure them we know a conspiracy when we see it - we had little choice but to cobble together the third magazine. After strenuous bouts of sexual favours, arguments about who was going…
I should have been under famous Americans but being with Futfanatico isn’t so bad
Loneliness is like madness. In fact, loneliness is madness. It’s incredibly addictive and comes with a skewed awareness that leads one distrust happiness and the anything that might precede it. My favorite songs, no matter which genres usually deal with sadness, the sadness of being alone (which is a completely different concept) or failed struggle. Not that I am an eternal black cloud, but I find myself beginning to enjoy the sadness of loneliness more than I should, which is to be honest, not at all. As I am at the moment in the process of creating a playlist titled alone” which contains songs like Jay’Z’s “lucky me” and “minority report” to Blink 182’s “Adam’s song” and Gaslight Anthem’s “American slang” and “drive”, it’s becoming apparent after more than 100 songs already, that there is something wrong here. There is a deeper issue here brought by early teenage heartbreak and subsequent refusal to ever return the emotions of anyone else after that and too many nights empathizing with Bruce Springsteen over imaginary lovers. The point being that, loneliness like depression becomes its own home and such a comfortable one that anything that draws you to sunlight is, in your screwed perspective, an emotional Judas. Which is absolutely wrong, one should never wallow in despair, never this long, no matter the lies told that no place feels like home. It has been almost seven years, and maybe this too, like all things will pass. But for now, blame Bruce.
You asked me yesterday if I could imagine myself torturing. When I consider the question, every fiber of my being rebels. “But not me!”
But what is my reflex reaction other than exactly the same mechanism that allows you to disavow the destructiveness in yourself?
“But not me!” And I make excuses for myself.
“I did it for my country.” And you exonerate yourself.
Obedience—or, let’s say, the loyalty that makes the coexistence of human beings possible—is the deepest of our traps.
Alexander. I dreamt of your fingers, and they looked just like mine.
This quote always comes to my head whenever the tragedy like today’s school shooting happens