Naïve self-esotericism
I was convinced to install Threads. That was surprising how different the people who broadcast pretentious success on Instagram were real and raw there. I mean, guys, are those media from the same developer? I can't believe to read authenticity on something from Meta. Well, I confess I wasted several hours trying to check on people's opinions on things that matter to me.
The time is almost up. Another decade of my life is about to end. I dramatise too much but I do it on purpose. I intend to leave many withered leaves of old habits in my 20s. To think how limited the human is makes me want to get slower. I am past my biological prime, I never saw anyone who were happy in endless rush. So I asked myself: who did I try to impress and why? And I don't have work aspirations. I could live pretty much fine with passive income if I had one. My several acquaintances (I never manage to type this word correctly!) boast about their busyness. Not doing anything is almost a crime. Or was. For me it was.
I even spent time on adapting Greek alphabet to my old conlang. I used to think not only it served as a cipher for my angsty diaries but also were a personal phone to God or something. Imagine that any real language is a call centre number. It's constantly ringing and managers (on sky) barely move to answer that 7799. Meanwhile the language only you know, the one created by your willpower, is a personal mean of communication. Once you dial this conlang number and the phone rings somewhere far away the supernatural rises their brow: 'hey, that's something new'. So I used to write my dreams in it.
Let's give it a try. I put publicly my dream hoping the old 'magic' will be magnified by number of people who read these symbols: 'Οι, άτας, βεδόλαβα βουφρέλας Μπόντι πρέσουμε βάμων άλχεξα βαι ρέλτολου.'