Just going to write to myself here.
A letter to me
Hi Frederick,
Life is hard, no? Really really hard. But, it is not really, is it?
Most, a majority, almost all is as simple as simple can be. People though, fucking hell, just fucking hell. So much fucking hell that you won’t even approach a beautiful woman who is everything you seek. Simply living her life in the same places you live yours, in similar ways, alone.
Maybe she wants to be alone, or maybe, like you, she is alone because of circumstances similar to yours. A sickness towards the ultimate sickness dominating this world, ignorance.
Maybe, like you, she is just trying to get by, keeping her life activated in the slim chance there is somebody else like her out there, another somebody who wants to live a life of value, nothing more, nothing less.
Possibly she knows what value is, knows it is the true expression of one’s true self without supression: dismissing those that do not, can not, will not, express their own selves, instead only copy/ape/repeat the expression of others. Maybe, buddy, like you she knows this is not living.
The journey may be harder for her than you, you say this a lot. Harder in that she would be the target of so many advances, of which you will be just another one. Maybe, just maybe, she is like you and gives you an opportunity to add value to her life before dismissing you when ultimately you do not.
You will, you do, she may just be another human, living the human condition too, she may not be, you’ll let her show you her before dismissing through bias, discrimination, judgement, all the shit. The same simple shit you ask from her.
Yes, it would be hard being a woman, especially a beautiful one. So many hanging on your every word, nodding their heads, repeating your words like they are theirs. Agreeing with your life like it is theirs. It is not, simply person after person coming to you through attachment/need/status/having you under their arm making them look good. Yes, it must be hard.
Buddy, however, is not this hard? The hardest of hard? Barely a conversation, never being able to approach people, wanting connection and doing nothing but moving from place to place hoping for something different while knowing it is all the same. Fuck it is hard mate.
Yes, putting yourself out there, breaking through the chains of waiting, only being willing to do this meeting people shit in safe ways which are not safe at all anymore, not for you. Just try mate, try to do the same shit you have done previously, just do it better. It will be safer, it has to be, it is coming from you, the example of safety. It will at least be a start.
Seriously mate. You are looking into living in the most remotest of remote buttfuck places on earth in attempt to completely break free of any attachment to human interaction, in particular human touch. For fuck sake mate, a cabin in the wilderness in winter in Romania! You know this is not you or the life you choose to live, you are already there in the isolation, it is not different at all.
Fuck mate, almost five years with barely a hug, can still count how many times you have been touched, 20? Yeah that is a good figure, probably a little generous to the hugs, 20 in over 1700 days. Yes mate, it is hard to know if you are okay or not.
But you are, you know this, hey? Actually, you know that everybody who spends more than five minutes with you knows this. You are more than okay bud, you are a phenomenally beautiful creature.
What you project and give to the world is the absolute pinnacle of beauty pal, nothing is as beautiful as you. The one and only human that acts, lives, gives a single fuck about integrity and peace. The one and only human who actually knows the definition of love.
Mate, it is hard, but it isn’t getting any easier. Each new conversation brings the re-triggering of all the shit you have been the victim of for so long. The rubbish that cost you your family, friends, career, house, money, a stable secure beautiful life. The rubbish which is only a moment away from taking your life.
Yes, it is extremely hard to live in continuous trauma, every conversation not only a trigger but new trauma added. Just more of the old being piled up really.
Having said all that though, you know beyond knowing that it is possible you are not the only one participating in a life of value simply because there is you, so therefore there is every chance there will be another you.
Which is effectively what you need, what the world needs. More me, which is more you, and less being you, always only being me.
It is simple is it not? As is the process to try this new NPC out, she may not be an NPC at all. If she is, you will know, and she will go.
If not an NPC, well who knows, who fucking knows. But buddy you will never know until you actually start to give it a go.
Love, with all of my being,
You/Frederick