tudbut

good evening.

i hold within my head a hall of selves.

each self has a purpose.
each self has a personality.
each self has lies.
each self has, eating at it, flies.
each self has a terrible smell.
and each self has adjectives, some positive, some negative.

one of the selves is rotten to the core.

one of the selves is cheery.

one of the selves feels hopeless.

one of the selves wants to go to a bar and drink with friends and throw away everything that separates me from someone normal.

one of the selves wants to throw away everything that can be taken away from me and live unemployed in the woods.

one of the selves wants to have a successful career.

one of the selves wants to have friends and relationships and live in a gigantic house with all of them.

one of the selves wants to kill everyone who comes too close to me and live in a rotting concrete building in a tiny village in east germany that is cheap enough to rent to live off social security.

one of the selves wants to make fursuits for a living.

one of the selves wants to run away from home.

one of the selves wants to do a bike tour with its parents.

and unlike most plural people, none of these are distinct in any way. and that is one more reason why i hate planning.

i do not even know if i am still plural at all, or if it is just one big interwoven network of conflicting harmony.

i will always decide something, and it is usually not the most rotten and not the most normal thing i could do, but all of these possibilities nag at me with every step i need to take. i do not want to do things that make my life objectively worse, but with every bit of success, everything nice i do come expectations that i am so unbelievably sick of.

i want to be free, but i can be free neither by having nothing nor by having anything more than nothing.

if i have anything, i have means to do things, but it comes with having to spend a lot of energy and time keeping these means.

if i have nothing, i have time and energy, but i have no means to the ends i might want to be free to do.

and thus i can never be free.

if i want to have a career, i need to stop doing things that could hurt my chances. except the eye looks and it sees and it sees that i wrote this text years ago and it decides i am not worthy and it decides i work in a supermarket. and then the effort for my education is a waste anyway so why even try.

except that is not how it works, but that is how i think. i need to repeatedly remind myself of why im doing education still, why i am bothering. because its Not hopeless even if i write this text and even if the eye sees and the eye might not even look.

giving up is easy and grants me freedom for now, but no matter what i do, nothing can be as bad of a deal as giving up fully.