THE midnight thought

“Oh just remember the telephones, well they’re working in both ways
but if I never ever hear them ring,
If nothing else I’ll think the bells inside
Have finally found you someone else and that’s okay,
Cause I’ll remember everything you sang.”

I know that like an unspoken rule, we’re not supposed to talk every so often, not supposed to say a lot of things about our lives now or bring back a lot of memories. Basically not supposed to do or say anything we want to, cause we both know how that would backfire.
I should be happy with 5 lines from time to time, and you shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t think of you, and you shouldn’t be sad cause it’s just 5 lines from time to time. But we both know this connection of ours goes beyond the time we spent apart , the distance that separates us now and all those words that should’ve never been said. And yes, the telephone stopped ringing a long time ago (like in that song you sent me), and yes, we might as well be strangers. But thing is we’re not, and I still think of you at least 3 times a day, every day.

I like talking to you cause you are my past, and my past is who I am.

I like you cause you understand everything I tell you and everything I don’t, and all the rubbish I talk. And you know where that comes from, cause you know me like I know the taste of cold milk in the evenings and you were beside me to see it all go down and rise again, and again, every fucking time.

There are evenings when I just stare at your offline name like a psychic, hoping that clenching my fists and listening to an acoustic song would make that name pop-up in the corner of my screen and make you say hello, like it happens in the movies, or cartoons, or any other fake and shallow media production. But you were never fake and shallow and you never go online when I’m dying to tell you something about my course, or meditation, or just see your semi-dark room and hear the dog barking. And that’s how it happens, I wait, then I feel sorry, then I wish I were there with you tonight. Then I just go to sleep cause it’s useless, and I wish you bloody knew that the last image I see before failing to stop the eyelids from falling at night is you.

That being said, I’m going to bed. I’m okay, you know. You kinda taught me how to be ok, apart from making the best omlette in the world. So I have OK and I have Omlette. I will survive. I just..

I’m not supposed to say.

Kamikaze

How hard is it actually, for the psychologist to become the patient? How long, and how hard, and how much does it take? What if one falls in love with their patient, suppose that patient is all they could ever wish for, suppose it’s a great patient. Maybe he isn’t even sick, say he’s there for other reasons. What if he never gets well though? What if he disappears and she cannot accept that she couldn’t cure him, that she wasn’t all he needed. That she needed him but he needed something else.

What if, at that point when the patient goes away, she herself becomes him. What if she loses her bloody mind. 

 

I get the feeling more and more that this is how I will be for the rest of my life. This is how I’ve always been.. I see no reason why things would be different in the future. The official definition for Kamikaze is someone who is willing to lose their life to commit a terrorist attack in the name of a strong belief, such as religion. I have a definition of my own though.. and that is, someone who is willing to risk their safety or sanity to get involved in something inappropriate, useless, dangerous or prone to produce great emotional pain, for ABSOLUTELY no decent reason.

That’s how I am. Ever since I’ve known myself, I’ve always got into the stupidest and complicated situations and always had to squeeze my brains out to find a solution, or to get better. It’s like.. tell me something that sounds impossible and it will attract me so much that I will do my best to be part of it. I’ve never planned it to be like that, I just get too emotionally involved or care too much about people.. I can’t just abandon someone I care about. I thought about that so many times, but as time went by it got harder and harder to just walk out of it, leave him. Pretend I’ve never met him, never loved him. He did it though, so now I wish I had had the strength.. Anyway, I guess lots of people do that.

It just HAS to get complicated, doesn’t it? Some people just aren’t happy if things are too okay and easy to deal with. They need complications, adventure, taking risks, and they will find any excuses possible to have that. ‘My relationship at the moment is boring.’ ‘He doesn’t understand me.’ ‘I need a change.’ ‘I’ve always wanted to live there actually!’ ‘It can’t be that bad!’ … These are just regular excuses, not to mention sayings such as ‘If it feels good, it can’t be that bad.‘ or ‘I’d rather regret something I’ve done than something I haven’t.’ 

All these sayings and ideas have just encouraged me for so many years to do the most foolish things one could, because I’m impulsive and because I don’t realize what the implications are. I always realize when it’s already too late, this is why I believe I’m a ‘kamikaze’. Is someone too far? too fucked-up-in-the-brain? impossible to be with? Cool, then why shouldn’t I madly fall in love with them, spend a couple of years loving them, then another couple of years regretting I ever did? Cool indeed, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Is someone an outsider? a social-reject? Someone with a major flaw or really not good to be around? Great, I’ll make them my friend and care about them way more than I should, then when it gets hard and I always have to be there for them, I’ll just spend time wondering why I got myself into it.

No problem, really. I enjoy doing this.. Sometimes I wonder how no one noticed how massively messed up I am and tried helping ME. That’s maybe because I’m too busy helping others and the only time I have for myself is late at night when I’m trying to sleep and can’t cause of the nightmares and panic attacks. Whenever I feel like that, I tell myself it’s only my fault, I’m the only one to blame for everything that’s happening to me.. J., S., and all the other friends that I love, friends with problems.. I’m really glad to be loving you guys, I’m glad to be helping you whenever I can.. but.. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to do this, for I’m going mad myself. And honestly, I don’t think YOU care enough to listen to MY problems. So.. yeah.. kamikaze much?

My own therapist

I want you to look at these pictures.. and tell me how they make you feel. You can cry if you want to, say, or do anything. I am not here to stop you. But please look at these pictures. What do you see? Do you recognise anything? Anything at all? Who is that person who appears in every single one of them? Who does that violin belong to? Who lives in that room? What do you know about that fountain? Who arranged those socks on the table and what does it read? Can you remember? Who was that person who sent all these pictures?

Look at them and tell me..

Are you afraid?

Do you see him?

Do you want to know more?

He’s closer than you think. Him, but not the truth, no. Between him and that stands something too big for you to overcome.

Now look at this particular one. Look at his face. Ignore the reactions of your body and mind the brain. What do you feel..?

Damn it. I don’t know him. This is too hard.