First blog entry... I feel scared?

It's quite funny.

Through out my life I created countless blogs, written countless entries. But this feels a bit new to me. 

New in the AI era, where everything seems to be lacking authenticity. You look at some writings and you just can't stop wondering whether they are a fruit of the greatest creative process in the world or just an AI slop of countless written masterpieces - stripped from their meaning, stripped from authors feelings - only looking perfectly but lacking it's muse, it's sense, it's IT.

I stopped writing when I realized that this will not bring me money, nor is it productive to my day-to-day self. To survive in this world means to strip yourself from the meaning of yourself and go with the current flow of the world. It's not even about trivial things like being outsider or loser - who cares about what others think about you in your adulthood. It's about proving to yourself that you can function in the society - that you can be responsible, put the food above the music of your heart, living expenses above seeking the higher meaning. But that's not you. Building up your ego - strengthening it brick by brick so you can finally achieve the state of being the average, gray human.

Don't get me wrong here - being a normal, "gray" person was always my deepest dream. When I said that I feel different or misunderstood I would hear that I am a narcissist or that I am watching/reading too many depressing/philosophical creations and developing schizophrenia. It was never about that. It was never about seeking the feeling or superiority nor making my own personality to be the odd man. It is an excruciating pain of knowledge that you don't fit in. You never will. Not in kindergarten, not in school, not in uni, not in work, not in the world. Even when you reach the point where you don't care about fitting in, don't care about how you are perceived, you do long for the relationships other people have that you will never have. You can understand others deeply but they won't understand you. You are not interlinked to anyone, not having these relationships that just feel natural and instinctive. It's an everyday task of masking as one of them, analyzing every breath they take, every move they make to copy and paste it onto your soul. Building the tower of small habits that others are born with - except theirs is stoned into their minds, yours is only standing close to it - and it can crumble easily. One wrong move, one wrong word and it all becomes meaningless - as the debris of it all crushes you on the sunniest and prettiest morning.

I used to love the rain over my head but I started to crave the sun so deeply. I liked getting drenched in cold drips of Universe's cries but god, I wanted to feel it's smile on me as well. I started to despise the gloomy clouds chasing only for the clearest and most perfect days. But after some time, after another failed chase - I just accepted I am - as always - dripping wet. Eventually the sun came on it's own, but the rain and storm never left. It never gave me peace. 

And here I am, writing stuff like this, feeling my heart getting heavier and heavier due to it being more full and full. As I am, a person full of contradictions, I am striving to write here more entries - even if it's for my eyes only. Sorry if the text has many mistakes and loses its rhythm somewhere in between the lines - I just truly want it to be as raw and as real as it can be. Doubt that anyone will read it anyway but - take care! 

A