When I speak in videos, I am not real. My social self is a lie.

I find something in my speaking is socially coded. My speaking is so tied to the people I’m speaking to that I can’t speak in any other way than with a certain energetic and cheerfulness.

I sense by knocking and smelling that there is something wrong with this social speaking, this speaking to everyone, to my friends. This speaking wants to cover something up, this speaking can’t stand something. This speaking leaves no room and no space for an abyss. This speaking is attached to a social forward, an ostentatious strength.

But if you don’t want to see things, you run to your death. The abyss does not cease to be abyss when we pretend that it did not exist.

My whole life is permeated with a harmful will to survive. I learned it from society. Denial is woven into it.

Yet life works just the same, and maybe even better, when you stop trying to master it. When you stop trying to be strong, to stand, to be something. When you simply surrender to the waves of existence. When you let yourself drift with the rush of time.

I must speak of brokenness and hope, but both are not sufficiently clear to me.

The brokenness is always to be sought. Whenever we think we are not broken and in shambles, we know something is wrong. Even when we are swimming in happiness and making new friends, we need to be aware of the impossibility that is befalling upon us. How fleeting it will be. We need to respect and enjoy it more because of this. We need to pray to it and appreciate it.

It is not about viewing our whole life as doomed disaster as ina a Schoppenhauerian pessimism. But to understand life from down low, from the rockbottom. From the moment of our greatest brokenness. We have to search and explore this moment again and again, because something in us tries to blur it. And then we become blind and arrogant, and we ask ourselves with the greatest cluelessness what is wrong with us, what our problem is.

We must never forget how broken we are, in what relation to nature we stand, and how unnatural our being here actually is.

And when we are at that point, we also see how broken the people around us are in a good way. We see the hardships in the lines to government assistance, the imperfection of bodies, and the small cracks in form of a pair of sweatpants, the upbeat on the radio, or a new pair of sunglasses to counter the rampant destruction of our existence.

The unapparent people in the pedestrian zones, whom we otherwise hardly register, and even less understand and contextualize, are transformed into monuments of resilience. And even if they are not aware of their human corrosion, failure and a positive will to survive swells from their embodiment.

What makes people unattractive is their denial.

It is not so much because of my age as that my economic and human poverty has lasted too long. I am completely starved and drained.

I am on the wane and time is preying under me.