(Another week in London)

I read once an article about the coupling terror over single people. It was inferred that being single was not a disease but a mere choice or simply impossibility of being or finding the right person to be with. Definitely it was not contagious and no reason to throw a stigmata over those who find themselves in such a social state. But then there's the family terror as well. It's not only that you're alone. It's that you will never have kids, never have responsibilities and worries as an adult. You live only your selfish, quiet, little life. And as you refuse or you are unable to join the social matrix, there must be definitely something wrong with you.

You're a human failure... And hence, you are treated like one. You become invisible.

The truth is in your social life you are treated like in your financial one: richer get richer and poorer get poorer. Those socially involved will find more and more similar people to themselves, while singles...well, they'll just stay single. Parents gather to parks and kindergartens and schools and hospitals and thus share a common ground for worrying, for being proud or for discussion. A single person at some parents convention could only look suspicious: a pedophile, a mad person or kidnapper... That's how it works.

Once you're out, you're out. Freedom is a terrible Greek gift.

The worst part is that you end up like that Matrix character who was willing to betray and sell his peers and his freedom just to be "happy", back in the illusion created by the Matrix. You really feel like there is something wrong with you. That it is impossible not to like having a mortgage, indulge a fat, annoying wife,  a stinking, impotent husband, raising some dumb-cunt whining kid, and share the general feeling of all no-gooders on this planet, sighing with self satisfaction while looking at their offspring: "At least i've done something in this life".

What an accomplishment...

We exist through the others, and that's a sad truth i keep repeating. Only others give us meaning, which is both false and fucked up, cause it is only us who know our true worth. Our true value. Christ - aware of being God's son and having it confirmed publicly by God Himself - was asking his apostles: "Who do people say i am?". He knew perfectly that though he was "the Truth, the Path, the Life" themselves, unless people came to acknowledge and accept that, any deed or self sacrifice would have been in vain. He had to become a miracle making man, a trickster, a propagandist and an agitator, a martyr to get the right result. We all live His life in this respect. We pretend, everyday. Unless others accept as as worthy, smart, beautiful, lovable, or whatever other quality we might possess, we are nothing. Unless others acknowledge our existence, we are not even alive...

Can't shake this feeling in London's underground.

I feel people bumping into me, like a cockroach nest it is, and still i doubt my own existence. In this week, the only human contact i had was with the librarian. I follow a strictly and daily routine, that leaves out exactly the three things i need most, to remember i'm alive. I cut off all sources of feelings to avoid pain, but i've stopped those causing pleasure as well. I know it cause i couldn't stop my brain from working. It didn't work otherwise. And while i stare at these people staring into their screens (phones, tablets, computers, e-readers) i wonder if any of them sees me. And if they do, what do they really see?

For sure they are not seeing what i see. Can't tell if that is good or bad.

Been thinking lately a lot to the fact that once close to the end - the death, the sacrifice, the redemption of all sins, which was the whole purpose if His coming anyway - Christ asked God to deliver Him from what was to happen. To deliver Him from: betrayal, loneliness, suffering and death. He knew why, He knew it's temporary (after all he did tell the apostles He will be resurrected) and yet, starring in the face of death He wanted out. Why? The answer to this question scares the Hell out of me...

Gods fear death too... Especially Gods!

 I've reached 33. As I like to say,  many, including the son of God, were done with their missions and lives by the time they've reached it. The only change i sense is in the mirror. And in myself: I know i'm older because I feel more and more dead inside. Because instead of settling with myself, i grow more and more restless, doubtful, lonelier. Because i keep asking questions i don't know the answer to. And it doesn't seem i will ever know it. Doubt is the only certainty.

If there's a point to my life i've most definitely missed it. Hope i'll get the joke at least.