Lingering resentments from my past I’ve brought to my attention, which makes me curious how to dispel them. Because when you’re faced with a deep resentment, it always seems easier to do what is taught but in that view the real future is not considered at all. I’ve made the decision to confront my deep resentment in the understanding everything gets easier eventually if I do that. Plus to my thinking I would be rather odd living here yet embroiled and entangled in the past causing me to do aggressive harm in many subtle ways instead of heeding that kindness is the best offense and defense. The child in me – that part of me that existed when I was a few years old – preserved behind ramparts of compassion.
The repeated reaction of submission to someone’s mind set on deciding for me what I should do. Each time getting a little more confused, a little more angry, until I reach a stage where I have a home, clothes on my back, a full stomach, yet I can’t breathe: something in me is starving and the decision to live I’m slowly loosening my grip on to replace it with the normal. The normal days of curated curriculums spending work hours in a concrete prison school and education system. Channelling my zest for life into building Lego later on to be cast aside by puberty and my first accident into watching porn. Signalling the start of an obsession together with judgment, in being normal forgetting what is normal and this is possible. Watch a society in chaos and you see a living example of the normal not anchoring the minds of people so you end up with normal people harbouring bizarre obsessions, pastimes, habits, activities, philosophies, to rather violent ways of being human.
Digging deeper, I need a skeleton. My first relationship, and the one I trusted in good faith the most and blamed the most and possibly defined my life according to the most, my helicopter mother when I could first remember. Having a curiosity to what it would physically feel like if I stepped into a puddle, walking towards it and being violently pulled away with a staunt phrase, “You’ll get yourself dirty if you go that way!”. Moving on to my second school and faced with a moral predicament of absolute extremes: I have maybe 20 years left on my sentence, do I stay quiet and obedient to material that doesn’t interest me, implying responsibilities that I sincerely think are useless and wasting time, do I buy into this education system in front of and around me encroaching into my creative time building Lego, the one activity that’s kept my zest for life intact? I said to myself, “Fuck it: emotions, do what you need to do to keep me on this normal path of an obedient student and wake me when I’ve finished my time. I let go of the responsibility for my life because I sincerely think people know better than me, and put me here precisely as a result of their wisdom and intellect and foresight. All of them are doing what they think is best for me, and I believe that. As for the rest of time not in school, I’ll try my hardest to pleasure myself to make this ride somewhat less rocky and unpleasant.”
And my golden years were spent procrastinating on school responsibilities and within that estimating and being conflicted in myself of the morals behind my decisions to be normal, yet not having any memories to reminisce and learn from (I was a blank slate). And in my naive trust in the goodness of others, I also crucify and blame others and my mother the most. My years spent on hundreds of thousands of hours of TV and video games, anime since it was introduced to me by my eldest sister. And in the same beginning holding a hope that everything will turn out well in around 20 years when I was around 11 while a) not foreseeing that TV and video games that are something will accumulate into nothing valued by jobs or people when they’re older, b) harbouring a deep compulsion to hoard and huddle around my items and activities representing comfort and a general high or positive inner experience, wherein this compulsion replaced an otherwise wholesome attitude towards what needed to be done, meaning I was empty of past and future, but because of my upbringing I suspected nothing of others. It’s sobering to recount the conflicts around the world that were happening while I was playing with really small ideas around my education and myself, and that mental illness and harmful behaviour has always thrived in capitalism that has been effectively omnipresent. Where was I when all this conflicts were happening in the adult world, the world we consider more real than a child’s world? Where are all the kids in the world while this is happening and what kind of environment are we sustaining for them obviously expiring at 18, yet they are independently thinking and breathing parts of The life that have always had the exact same responsibility to life that adults are known for fucking up? We as adults say pretend that children are the future, and represent something precious because of their general kindness, yet we have the guts to give them false information and false sense of reality by constraining their contemplations on only themselves and the education system they interact with. Which totals up into all the time they have, being measured to be harmless and planned to fail them when they really need it, useless family time + useless responsibilities towards the education system + time done in schools + intermittent hours restricted to hobbies + a natural teaching by everyone to compulsively seek what represents comfort to them personally, that in a way were absorbed even before then + the shameless encouragement to lead the crowd and be the majority which apparently has all the power without understanding what power is according to one life + parents “teaching” their children + money’s influence in personal interests and projects all = possibly an entire 90 years of human life repeating the same conflicts and insisting on aggression and violence and cynicism over kindness.
When my mother acts in a similar way to what I’ve remembered I deeply resent her. These days I’ve been very touchy and moody because of remembering all that childhood, yet I understand lessons are more useful than resentment. That’s why I’m writing this, to put an end to living in the past and re-introduce some stability in my mood. In essence I wasted my own time under my own impressions and assumptions of what is the world for 25 years. This ain’t a drama, I’m not going to keep blaming others. Yet to think at one point I thought I was here to save my mother from her suffering which I clearly understood from her face. Geez I haven’t got myself in order yet.