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I am running out of things to say. I think I am realising the absurdity of it all. And I am submitting to this shallowness of life. I am alive and I might as well be dead tomorrow. Not just knowing. I am realising that. I don't know, but it was a process, bit by bit, asking too many whys and hows, that might have led me here. And I have ran out of questions now - the kind of questions you don't bother to ask when you know you aren't important.

I know it because I wasn't important for long. Growing up, I had always been totally invisible and I won't say I liked it. But I think acceptance comes easy to me. I had easily stepped out of the whole competition to matter to someone. And it was peaceful. Very very peaceful.

I think the worst thing that ever happened to me was realising I was better. Or deserved better. Or that I wasn't as invisible as I used to think I was. Realising my own significance was the beginning. And maybe when that happens, you start thinking there is a purpose for you. A bigger one. Save the world kind of a purpose. What else are all these gifts for? Like some god bestowed responsibility awaits you. And you start feeling the weight of the world on your head. And I believed it for a while. I think I know the high of it. The narcissism.

And having lived both lives, I knew I didn't like the way I was feeling. I knew I didn't want to be there. Or at least bother about it so much. Or carry the fear of losing it. I had known what peace looked like and I wanted it back. I wanted to be able to do things for the sake of it. For the sake of the feeling. I wanted to be free of the burden to make sense to anyone or the burden to matter to someone or to be noticed and validated. I wanted to be just an observer of everything like I used to be. I wanted so badly to be a nobody and have my insignificance back.

I wanted to be back home. And thus, I did.

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When you lose someone, do you cry because you could've loved them more or because they could've loved you more or is it both?

( I think I'm very detached in this arena. I've never mourned much over this loss, though I've cried too much over loneliness. Maybe because I've always been by myself when it comes to emotions and never known what it's like to be emotionally dependent on anyone and it will be very weird if I were to cry over material dependence I guess?)

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Maybe perfectionism was never the problem. Like why not strive for perfection? Why be anything lesser than what you can fully form into? What goes wrong though is when you cannot accept when you discover it's not possible. Striving for perfection is great, but being frustrated at it being unfathomable is the problem. So, what do we do?

We do perfectionism anyways. But then know when to stop. Do it until you have to stop. Then do it again. And again.

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What is self-help to me:

I thought about it. Obviously the first books I started with were self-help and going back to them now I can really point out certain flaws. Self-help is rigid, it doesn't know where you come from. It cannot fix you! I've read things and strained myself hard to follow them. But it was stupid. It doesn't obviously work. There is a difference in knowing something and embodying it. Self-help does the knowing part. And how do you embody anything? Well, that I think happens by unknowing. Unlearning. Diving deep into yourself, into what is stopping you from learning what the self-help is trying to teach. So, you have to make space. I think this is what they call the shadow work (Also, most of self help is anyway not that valid.) 

And after all the undoing, the real self-help is knowing that life is meaningless, there is no God, nothing I do anyway matters and this is me, this is my situation and these are my variables or parameters and these are the societal rules or conditions I need to fit in and then there's a way I see and that's exactly what I should be doing. And just going on to do it. So, everything comes down to acceptance I think at last. Once that is done with, you automatically remain to do what is needed to be done.

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If you were one of the first writers on the planet, the easiest fiction you would come up with would be about a God controlling the living. And it's not very new for people to be crazy about characters they like.

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I know life has no meaning and there is no God, but that doesn't mean it's all over. I have people. People have feelings. And I will love them and be happy with them!

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People have always loved shiny things. The only reason they had to possess it was to show it off to their peers. To get themselves the ego boost.

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People have always loved shiny things. But the only reason they wanted to possess it was to show it off to their peers. To get themselves the ego boost.

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I think this is so real sometimes. We don't know ourselves that well. The quicker you accept it, the easier it gets for you to accept life as it is. Freedom smells like acceptance. Misery smells like narcissism. Those who came up with things like religions were also lowkey egoist writers.

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The music is playing, I'm dancing, the wind breathes in me, the trees flutter, I'm alive, I'm free like I always wanted to be. Life doesn't feel real - because it never was!

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When you get lost or are broken, you find people pitying you and telling you to trust in God - and I think it is the most senseless thing ever to say. But I also do think, despite its ambivalence it does help get you through. I am glad it kept me from killing myself when I was in a place nowhere near to buy into the magic of acceptance! But, now I also wish we are taught of acceptance quite early in life, before it hits us so bad, rather than religion. And I believe it is religion itself that enforces in us that ego, that we matter, that God sees us and that we are important, and our dreams matter and all that fuss. I have been at tremendous peace since and dangerously more alive then I've ever been before and it is acceptance that I hold utterly guilty of it! I think we should air out acceptance with the use of right words and to not let religion and God infect people.

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Teach kids the courage to accept reality and do rightly what is in their power and about the punishment of our own conscience, not religion!

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If you look closely nobody really believes in God. They are just too scared to be the one to not believe. If you really did believe in God, you would do nothing at all and wait for things to automatically fall into your lap. But you control so much. You even try to protect your God. Which itself is a sign you don't believe in your God.

I sometimes even feel religion itself is responsible for inciting egoism in people. It makes them believe that they are important, that there is a reward for their pain, or the hard work they put through, or being moral and not missing prayers. It makes them feel they are special, that this God sees them and their dreams and pain and happiness matters to some big fat all encompassing being. But look closer and there is no magic. You are only seeing what you want to see. You believe what you want to believe. No, religion isn't making you a good person either. It's only encouraging who you already are. Religion has never stopped psychopaths, has it? And worse, I think it only makes people quite entitled to their fortunes or misery. The lack of religion, the fact that there is no God and it could've been equally probable for one to be in the place of the other is enough to incite empathy if any (You see empathy too works by imagining ourselves in the other's shoes, that's how limited humans actually are).

And imagine how narcissistic you have to be to believe that you are alive because you matter more than the person who died. It takes too much to face that there is no magic and that you are not that important. And yet, some might never come to the point to break out of the delusion or even manage to remain quite obstinate despite. In the end, it's good as long as it works and helps get through this hell hole called life I guess.

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It breaks my heart when I think about how much time I have wasted on religion by not being practical. Why don't they teach us to be realistic in life early on? Acceptance is something that needs to be taught. Not religion. Religion is just another name for delusion.

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Life is very very simple because it is me who is doing it all. Not any universe, not any god. All I do is through my beliefs, my control. If I am resisting myself, it's my some deep invisible beliefs that need shedding, nothing else. There is no universe manifesting for my growth. This is my life, maybe I am just a random animal made to fit into the box of a society, a community, a religion, a state or a country and the world. Phew! I am going to plunge into this roleplaying and know the difference. Know it very well. And then be real, be naked off my costume and make art when back home. I want to dive into these systems and also know how to not let them consume me. This is me, my brain deciding to be like this. No God. I am here by accident and I have been lucky uptil now. There is no universe giving me any signs. It never did. Though believing it did sway me in certain directions that have been both beneficial and not, and it was because I had faith in these constructs, but I don't want to anymore. Because I know it is not real. I know what is real. It's me. I can choose how I behave. I can choose my beliefs. I am free. There is no religion and spirituality driving me. I am free. Thank you g̶o̶d! Ugh, no, thank you my brain. My brain is my god. And my life.

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There are around 8 billion+ ways to live and as long as any of them is not disturbing the existence of the other, none is wrong or better than the other!