2022/06/24 02:28
The creative impulse has been persistently absent — another day of mounting fear. Today’s condition has come back a little, but there’s still a jarringly exhausted, disoriented feeling, something like insomnia, blocking me from creating. I don’t want to sit with my phone in the soundless night eulogizing an insomniac’s brooding passion the way I did a year ago, but I keep feeling that sunlight no longer belongs to me. Is it because I’ve been locking myself in my room too long.
My weight seems to have gone up a little, but the stomach problems seem to have gotten worse. I hope this is just my melodramatic imagination.
The loneliness is still gnawing at me. The familiar estrangement again — born from the disappointment of opening social apps repeatedly and finding no unread messages. The night is being stretched out again by thinking and scrolling. That’s not a good sign.
I should cut the long night short and sink into the infinite stillness of dreams, the deep sea of consciousness.
2022/06/25 01:52
Wait for the words to flow naturally. No preparation. No pressure.
There’s pressure, actually. A hidden pressure eroding me.
2022/06/25 02:06
I keep wondering if I should sleep — this helpless drifting leaves me nothing but despair. I weakly resist the pitch-dark, unchanging ceiling. In this narrow room, surrounded by the noise of the internet in my hand, how much knowledge can I actually take in… I go to sleep every night hungry for knowledge, and wake up still fighting through fatigue. Why is it like this? In this empty, dry space my brain is frozen by the stale air; the pain around my shoulders makes me more irritable. I’ve overdosed on the internet again. I need something to heal me again… Let me escape quickly from this half-asleep body and let the dark take over.
2022/06/25 14:03
A morning that turned out better than expected. The afternoon sun was blinding, monstrous almost, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open while reaching for the blanket and pillow. The pillow was burning-hot all over; warmth seemed to seep into my skin. How long had it been since I’d felt something so lovely.
2022/06/25 18:56
Despair has radiated to my home again. My sense of things has started tearing again; I can faintly feel the world spinning. It’s suffocating, exhausting — all I can do is turn toward art and life for relief. The evening glow gradually takes over the blue sky; the wash of orange light and its oracle-like reflection in the residential windows is so beautiful. The thin clouds hang over the rooftops, and some unknown bird skims past the gently swaying leaves, stirring ripples of sunlight. How free.
2022/06/26 02:33
The ordinariness of being seventeen terrifies me; I feel as though an endless sea of suffering lies ahead. The surging black tide submerges me. When will this rift with the world finally heal? Tsumiki’s song loops in my head. I wait for a gray tomorrow to descend, listening to the heat-charged, chaotic silence that belongs only to the long night, taking solace alongside the running air conditioner.
2022/06/26 02:59
Once again, a brief farewell to this busy, melancholy-inducing world. I swallow the insomnia I caused myself.
2022/06/26 16:23
Racing along an overpass under the sun, I merge into the crowd of beings moving forward in the same direction, melting into the swaying song in my headphones. I feel like a part of the world again — dancing with the trees, sharing in the plenitude of the round, drifting clouds overhead.
2022/06/26 16:26
Songs and poetry share the same emotional framework. The vocabulary is simply replaced with musical notes.
2022/06/26 17:01
“You must choose an ideal height, laughably solitary, or a star to joke with, and rebel against the nebulae. Your life, irresponsible because of its sadness, mocks each of its own moments; and yet life is the pity we feel for duration, a dancing sensation of eternity, a time that transcends the self and rivals the sun…”
Emil Cioran, A Short History of Decay, “An Objectless Existence”
This is Cioran’s romanticism — the revenge of awakened thought. In the depths of grief and endless cursing, he still walks into the dirge, practicing and seeking a path through life, accepting dreams and sleeplessness on a road paved with the bricks of hell, carrying hate and betrayal, stepping out the footprints of an exile. Transcendence: what a magnificent word. Life inscribes its answer in time that exceeds philosophical meaning. I can’t help but reflect on how contradictory and arrogant the idea of “an ordinary me, torn from the world” really is. I am no Lucifer — how could I elevate myself to the position of a superman who draws a line between himself and humanity.
2022/06/26 17:46
I can’t help but lament the toxic atmosphere of the online battlefield and the mindsets of those surfing through it… Any discussion eventually degrades into a gunpowder-thick war of oppositions, with unrestrained attacks launched indiscriminately against anyone or anything that doesn’t conform, or else bystanders fanning the flames, broadcasting the conflict and then mocking both sides with equal cruelty. This is the evidence of what happens when humanity is handed a new refuge: they destroy it with the same ruthlessness. What sort of landscape is this so-called freedom and proliferation of opportunity that technology once promised… Is this the educational deficit I hypothesized at the beginning, or is it an inevitable flaw under a macro environment that grins and bares its teeth?
2022/06/26 21:53
Pure, idle chat is genuinely rare. No insults, no mockery, no meltdowns, not even a debate — just a few words about small things in life, or wishing each other goodnight. I suppose that counts as an oasis I’ve found in the tense online landscape.
2022/06/26 23:12
But my life has gone from having every corner of my brain packed with academic burdens and information overflow to having space left for actual thinking. That’s a good sign.
2022/06/26 23:15
Communicating with people is draining, and I deeply question whether talking to certain people holds any more value than staring at the colorful contents of a trash can. But I know how to avoid them.