Entracte
It happened. The very reason I had started the blog became the fact. I'm 30 by now. I didn't make any present for myself but bought several necessary items for everyday life. I organised a day off and wandered around the city thinking about everything I guess. Much to my relief I don't give a heck about the expectations the society gives to younger people. Sorry, I'm an old fart (jokes obviously), leave those funny ideas to someone whose age starts with 1 or 2. Much to my disappointment I hoped something special would have happened. It didn't. Except for the slight fragrance of existential dread that entered my mind. I'm getting older. I see it enough to start using skin care I never did before.
I miss the times somebody missed me. I am not needed by anyone but my parents. I want to be valued and seen by my peers. I am so glad I don't drink because I'd have started playing with red wind after work by now. I am tired pretending I got my shit together. Deep inside my inner child looks at the world with desensitised eyes. He doesn't hope another would notice him to play together. I can't find any new hobby. Conlanging, drawing with a pen or anything else I did before doesn't appeal. I only listen to audiobooks, the 'Blood meridian' is on play.