oct 27

it’s that great unease. it’s at its worst when there is no woman to comfort me, no drugs to numb me, no show to entertain me, no audience to praise me. just me and this… this reality. clocks ticking. refrigerators humming. heart pumping. i got warmth, i got clean water, i got food on my plate, nobody is trying to kill me, my country is not under threat of being bombed, i got talent, i got friends, i got everything i need. i am alive and i should get a deep satisfaction from that. if i was one of those bears out there in the forests, roaming around in the cold, trying to find food to stay alive, to keep the cubs alive, to be able to sleep for the winter and know that survival awaits come springtime. at least then i could say i have a real problem. but that’s the problem. there is no fight for survival anymore. no one to protect. just me and this. why the hell can’t it be enough?