How pathetic
It is all other people's ideas, all the thoughts have been had by someone else, and the crisi is not existential, it is not about whether or not I am, or I have meaning. There is meaning there is existence. The crisis is whether or not I am unique, even a small amount of uniqueness would be enough to drag me away from this endless need for reassurance, god how pathetic.
So easy, it can all be so easy, like when we were li5le and all there was was hearing an idea and saying, yes, that is a fun idea, let's play that game. And throwing ourselves into the play, as we go along we create the rule. As we went along the rules got more complicated, more confusing as the rules turned into secrets. Now all I have left is secrets, secrets I cannot tell you, or anyone.
July 23
Books, that is what I am turning to this month. Proactive action as suggested by...
