I have always had the feeling I live in a bubble apart from the real world. Probably because I’m living life in a, say, minor scale. And then in moments of clarity, mainly from seeing some hints of the solid reality out there, that, like an inverted inspired state, I realize my insignificance towards everybody else.
It’s such a fear I have that I become impotent when facing certain perspectives. Any small hint of my inability, foolishness or amateurship makes me tremendously insecure. Sometimes just taking the first step of these dreams of mine out in the world makes me feel a very gruesome feeling of depressive illusiveness. I rush back inside.
Maybe it was the way I was raised, always being too shy, always being too quiet. Maybe it’s because I came from one of these incredibly small cities and it was branded on my mind that my destiny is to be another one to go quietly unto the grave. I am always punishing myself so hard, and having such a hard time believing I can go out there and try my chances like anyone else, that it makes me wonder.
Maybe there’s the Csillag that’s just a cruel tyrant, and the Csillag that is the one that prevents me from engaging with mindtraps. Which one could be Csillag’s true nature?
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