This thin veneer, this ‘patina’, as Tfear would put it, of what I want, isn’t even close to what I’m actually feeling. For most nights I feel lost. Most nights, even as I struggle to breathe, I keep on wondering what I could do better. What is there left to do, but go home?
I don’t know.
I read comic books and try to entertain myself. I get up in the morning, and tell myself it’s too early to think about a new life for myself. In the afternoon, I say that it’s not early enough to think about that. And, at night, I tell myself it’s too late to do anything— and I’ll think about it in the morning.
And so, I have stayed, in the same place, for 20 years.
What is the purpose of this website? If I actually get what I want, a new life, I won’t want to maintain it. If I actually get what I want, the traffic to this place would probably cripple the server. But then, that wouldn’t matter.
I don’t know what my new life is going to look like. I have a vague glimmering of it, in my forebrain; but I don’t know what else it could be. I somehow fear it. To return Home. To be at peace with myself, once more.
No more adventures.
What’s that line: how Victory has defeated you?
I don’t know anymore.
I have no more enemies. They’ve all run themselves into walls. There are no more stalkers left. They’re all in insane asylums. I have no more challenges left… except one. To go Home.
This is not some terroristic fugue. It is not a sonnet written with veiled terms. When I mean that I want to go Home, it means just that: to return to where I actually belong. To the place that I grew up in. To the only location that made any sense to me.
But then, I feel such fear, thinking about it. What if I no longer ‘fit in’, there? What if it’s not my final destination? What if there’s no end to this Path on which I walk, and the only thing I have to look forward to is an eternal, endless ‘struggle’— a path that has no end.
In a way, knowing— or thinking that my path had no end, was rather comforting. Endless Adventure; Endless Travels. There would never be a single dull moment.
But what is peace? What happens if I win? What happens if I’ve won?
What if there are no more challenges left?
What will I do with boundless freedom?
I’ve found myself. Or, rather, enough of myself, to be able to see myself for who I am. And I am finally comfortable with that. I am a version of myself that once existed in 1997, only, augmented, now. I am becoming more and more whole, with every given day.
And does that frighten me? No. But I have to wonder if the person I find out that I am, which I have always been, will turn out to be someone that I hate.
It’s endless folly to even note such things. When you don’t know yourself, how can you aspire to anything great? How can I try to become ‘famous,’ online, when that means nothing to me? Nothing to my ultimate pursuit: to finally feel peace, in my own heart?
For the longest, I’ve dreamed of being as loved as I was in Arcadium. But even then, there were at least a hundred people who hated me. Virulent hatred, toot. But that doesn’t matter. I was always smiling: because that was the place where I belonged.
Arcadium’s been gone for 24 years.
I want you to appreciate how long I’ve waited. For most people reading this, that’s longer than you’ve been alive. I long for a place I haven’t been for longer than you’ve been alive.
And still, even though I know it’s the same, I wonder if it’s changed. But that place wouldn’t change. Not within my lifespan, anyways.
There is no future here, for me. I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried to fit into every spoke; tried to do everything I could think of, to become useful to Humans. But the end result is, I’ve only been used. I was never really appreciated by anyone with any real power. And any Human with any real power is a godforsaken shitstain on the face of Existence™.
I had thought, quite erroneously, that the people in charge had some sort of desire to help the weak, the sick, the infirm, the ill, the poor: the innocent. But the reality is, Humans are still stuck so far in the Dark Ages™ that no one with any real power is doing anything good. We were indoctrinated, from an early age, to believe that Capitalism was the best of all concepts; and that Billionaires were our Shepherds.
I don’t knwo what to think, anymore. Conscious thought does not befit such treachery; such vileness. And America is lost, anyways. As is the rest of the Human World, to greater or lesser extent. I bet Japan isn’t even nice anymore.
For what it’s worth, I enjoyed my time here. And this is not a suicide note. But rather it is writing devoted to the purpose of putting to bed a feeling: that Hope that I had, festering in my soul, that something Nice might happen, if I simply waited long enough.
Nothing nice just ‘happens’. You have to make it happen. And, for me, I will never enjoy being alive until the day I leave America, and go back Home.