Doomer
Written by Hermann Morr, on 2021-04-26, genre romantic
DOOMER
April 25, last hour, no curfew for me tonight, no mask poisoning my lungs, i walk the empty, windy roads of the old city. Music and voices come down from many flats, the kind of parties that might end with a police call by some zealous neighbour.
Like the concentration camps, everyone spying on everyone, the Kapò chosen between the inmates are the worse jailers ever.
The notes of Toto's Africa ride the wind across the street.
Once i read a youtube comment, said You know you've hit rock bottom in your life when you're at the liquor store buying Evan Williams and Toto's Africa gently plays on the speaker system.
Nah, that's not it. When you feel like a hero of freedom for just having a walk round home without a gag over your mouth, then and only then you know how the rock bottom of life looks like.
Back home past midnight, Massive Attack on the stereo, opened a can of bavarian beer.
Staring at the clay tiled roof in front of my balcony, the city lights outline the clouds in a starless dark sky. Tiny plants growing between the tiles, they suspiciously look like hops.
Used to look at stars with the ex from this balcony, she liked hops too, we tried like a million of different craft beers. It felt so good, maybe i was just a dreamer and she was just a dream.
Or maybe we were too similar and not enough complementary.
Do you think like-minded people get along well ? Nah dude.
Nothing gives more anxiety than seeing your own weaknesses mirrored by another person, even a cute one, a loved one.
You can overcome this only changing as a couple, trying to be what she wants is useless, criticizing her is pointless.
Then comes that moment, after one more " Don't turn the tables on me ", when you give up and stop talking. And she guesses what is behind your silence, you guess what lies behind her words, you look at each other through the lenses of your own inner fears.
Jung calls it projection.
When projection takes the place of trust, then it's done, it's gone.
She's gone.
They say doomers can find inner peace. The peace of surrender ?
There is a Knob Creek bottle in the cabinet, the seal on the cap not yet broken. That peace ?
Not tonight.
April 25, last hour, no curfew for me tonight, no mask poisoning my lungs, i walk the empty, windy roads of the old city. Music and voices come down from many flats, the kind of parties that might end with a police call by some zealous neighbour.
Like the concentration camps, everyone spying on everyone, the Kapò chosen between the inmates are the worse jailers ever.
The notes of Toto's Africa ride the wind across the street.
Once i read a youtube comment, said You know you've hit rock bottom in your life when you're at the liquor store buying Evan Williams and Toto's Africa gently plays on the speaker system.
Nah, that's not it. When you feel like a hero of freedom for just having a walk round home without a gag over your mouth, then and only then you know how the rock bottom of life looks like.
Back home past midnight, Massive Attack on the stereo, opened a can of bavarian beer.
Staring at the clay tiled roof in front of my balcony, the city lights outline the clouds in a starless dark sky. Tiny plants growing between the tiles, they suspiciously look like hops.
Used to look at stars with the ex from this balcony, she liked hops too, we tried like a million of different craft beers. It felt so good, maybe i was just a dreamer and she was just a dream.
Or maybe we were too similar and not enough complementary.
Do you think like-minded people get along well ? Nah dude.
Nothing gives more anxiety than seeing your own weaknesses mirrored by another person, even a cute one, a loved one.
You can overcome this only changing as a couple, trying to be what she wants is useless, criticizing her is pointless.
Then comes that moment, after one more " Don't turn the tables on me ", when you give up and stop talking. And she guesses what is behind your silence, you guess what lies behind her words, you look at each other through the lenses of your own inner fears.
Jung calls it projection.
When projection takes the place of trust, then it's done, it's gone.
She's gone.
They say doomers can find inner peace. The peace of surrender ?
There is a Knob Creek bottle in the cabinet, the seal on the cap not yet broken. That peace ?
Not tonight.
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