(9) The sorrows of young writer November 28
February 05 2016
In so far as a scientific statement speaks about reality, it must be falsifiable: and in so far as it is not falsifiable, it does not speak about reality.
Do you know how hard it is to light a candle when it’s melted?
I woke up and felt cold. I did not see a reason to get up. I could not find a good reason to move an inch. My senses were blunted. What’s the point of living? Alas there is none. I only breathe because I got too much used to it. That's the only reason I carry on.
I'm living out of a habit, without a purpose, without a fire, just an empty shell - barely eating, barely shitting and mainly sleeping. I do not even dream. I am not able to dream. I live in a mute black and white movie despising the memory of colors. But suddenly even the memories are sparse, motionless and emotionless. I lied in my bed, glaring into the ceiling, unable to find remains of joy inside of this broken body. I felt old. I was lying next to myself; it was the past me and the me of the present side by side like an old couple with no passion, getting annoyed by the loud sound of each other’s breathing.
Even when I thought I had found a meaning I could not hold on to it. Even when I was happy, I was not. When I had her. I still did not have her. I could not be certain. Think about Karl Popper. No matter how many times you try to verify a natural law it still remains uncertain. We can never be truly certain. But it only requires one failed test to preannounce natural law uncertain. So even when I had her, I did not. What is certain? – Extinction. Why denying the only certainty in life by holding onto the life? And we did not pass the test. We failed more than once.
Like Macbeth I have fallen into the spiral of self-fulfilling prophecy. I wanted to lose her so I can be miserable, because with her I could not be miserable. I tried to make myself miserable when I lied next to her, trying to evoke hurtful images. At the end of the day, she was just a distraction. A distraction from the real demon within me – the fear.
I am afraid of living. So I am trying to find a reason against living, testifying my inability to resist reality and at the same time denying my own weakness by covering it with righteousness.
Living a lie was easier on my stomach than living a reality…