Of burnout release

There are times when I feel there is some kind of reservoir of energy and creativity and a sense of expendable resources I use to keep this blog running. And usually I am more aware of this notion by noticing this energy bar has been going down and lower. And lately I’ve been feeling it so frequently that is one important element in the compound that are my worries.

I am afraid of using so much of my mental power that one day my brain will just short-circuit. It’ll then remain useless without hope of recharging. It’ll be just something fried and a faint smoke will be rising from it. I feel that because of this sensation of pushing the engine so far without actually moving.

It reminds me those people who do such achievements in art or science and then they overdose in it and then they lose their mojo. Their talent and their thoughts become fruitless. It’s something I find so terribly dangerous and so likely to happen, that it’s even one of the reasons I try to keep going with this slow brickwork, so I won’t ever cross this line. After all, my style of work didn’t make me achieve a lot while it’s burning all this resource out. 

One curious thing is that this feeling I have is also related to the idea of putting so much effort in seeing and experiencing life that one day it would no longer enchant me. Or maybe even feel like I have had everything it could offer me. It’s as if I could just completely extinguish the interest I could have about it. It’s dreadful, dreadful.

Of Vesta’s frustration

Sometimes I have one of those quaint realizations: isn’t it strange that I should be this much affected by the feelings? They don’t make any sense. I know the situation isn’t that devastating if I look at it from this certain point of view. Everything would simply be fine I would just ignore the dark feelings. The answer is clear to Vesta, but no one listens to her, not even her own colleagues.

Her voice is unheard and ignored by all. Should she be a leader, but she’s incapable of making any difference. It requires a lot of effort before I can just silence everything and create a sense of discipline again. It takes a lot of effort for me to get into the writing that makes me more reasonable and can dampen a little of the hunger I feel.

But while I am finding myself under control right now and I’m recharging my Alpha bar and I start being confident there’s no reason to get into a turmoil with my very first step outside, soon it all engulfs me. I try dodging these evil particles, but when one strikes me, others get in very easily, and there you have the emotional explosion again.

It requires a certain experience for me to make an elegant dance to avoid these little things hurting me, but sometimes it’s these particles just shower on me and there’s no avoiding them. Plus I am feeling like I have no resilience left to be unaffected by mistakes, every single one is a powerful droplet of chaos. And that’s how powerless and frustrated Vesta feels in this war of emotions. And I identify myself with the poor woman, feeling like an isolated misfit. And me and my own creation, we give our hands to seek the same objective. We want to belong. We long to make a difference.

Of influential Alpha and Omega

After months of being under constant Sigma Storm when all my rotten side overflows the sewers and invade the streets, I’ve started recovering with more frequency and stability the Gamma Glow. But what makes the difference between staying with the Sigma or Gamma isn’t exactly something of their own.

Lately I’ve suddenly realized the real important axis in the greek coordinates is the horizontal one. It’s the Alpha and Omega axis. It’s the grand importance of motivation. These are the vertices I have to control in order to manipulate my strength or weakness, because the Alpha and Omega is what will determine the permanence of Gamma or Sigma.

It’s no use trying to get rid of Sigma beings if Omega is the reigning condition. When the Sigma Storm is present, my Flames are easily repressed. But the seek-and-chase is in reverse if I can only find a good reason to stay strong, a good reason to go on and be motivated by that. The Alpha force will let my Flames deal with them like toys. 

Of sacred motivation

I want to find something that is worth of dedicating my whole life into it. Most of the time I know this is what I want to do. I want to think and write, picture it all and play songs out of them. This is what I am actually good at, so it makes sense I should make investment in it.

But then I think, will my whole life be making little drawings, making songs, writing stories While others go and push the world further in technological and social advancements? I’ll be alone, playing with lines and notes, living in fiction. Out of all there is in the world out there, and with all the help it needs I’ll spend my life doing this which will do nothing for the world?

It makes me sick sometimes, I have headaches and I lose appetite. It becomes meaningless to embark in this. I feel terrible and discouraged to do enter in the business world and it makes my soul shrink, but I feel a coward in trying to live a simple life without all the stress. I am deadly tired of it at the young age of twenty-four.

That’s one of the reasons October and November were so terrible. I wish I could do something important for the world, but I am just realizing this is hardly something I will be able to do. I just can’t take the pressure, and it even makes me unable to keep marching. So I should get just focused in doing this for myself, then. But playing with it this alone makes it even more obsolete of a quest…

So in the turn of the events, that’s what makes it so much harder to engage in the pursuit. It’s not merely a matter of facing difficulties, but seeing a point in doing so. I wish I could firmly believe in what I am doing, seeing it being the holiest activity I could ever do, but honestly, it’s not working…

It's hard to invest my time in here when I feel the eyes sayign "go do something useful like being a doctor or an engineer". My own family seems to think I am wasting my time. Somehow it's hard to convince people that what I am doing here has any importance. It seems like just some hobby and not an intense investment. For them an intense investment means being enrolled in college or paying a lot to learn, instead of thinking and studying and writing and practicing and living it 24/7.

Of increasing curve of intolerance to wasted vertices

There is a stream that started some months ago as the idea of escalating irresolubility. It’s the thought that one problem might arise, and then it can be washed off without us even paying attention to it, or escalate into levels of resolution until it is just unsolvable. Thinking of it, it’s actually something pretty explored by humoristic scenes (I keep thinking of Mr. Bean).

Some things we can get through just by standing up against them even if not entirely active; a simple word of manifestation shatters this brittle barrier. But the curve of irresolubility increases and we are required to be more experienced and savvy in order to know of the tricky ways to get through them. There are the goals that require more and more knowledge of subtleties to go around all the specific combinations of buttons to get past them. It’s equivalent to difficulty levels, where every problem gets more and more complicated as more vertices are thrown in the mix and every mistake weighs heavier.

The part where it gets tricky is when there is no tolerance to every slight mistake we make. The wrong word, the wrong gesture and you’re gone. It’s like in job interviews or when you’re with someone who is hard to impress, and every move is being watched and judged. These would be at the highest point of the curve, while there are people who allow us to make mistakes, or in job interviews where imperfect runs aren’t all minutely recorded.

Of course, this is about risk and reward. While it’s no use having friends there at the top, some other objectives are worth the effort. Also, it goes to everything, including my texts over here. There are messages that require a mastery and subtlety for them to be really conveyed, and for readers to get them, unlike other simple ideas that just need one rough attempt at definition. And at the end of the day, these texts that require more of me and that need the wisest choice of words is going to become a much more remarkable piece of work.

Of backfired defeat

And here I am again with the bitter taste of defeat. But this is not a simple defeat, but rather a nuclear one. I thought I was taking care of my mind and making it protected. But after all this time, in this time of need, the feeling I have is “what have I been doing all this time instead of protecting my mind?” and wait.

Although it looks like I’ve done a lot this year, it was all easily destroyed. All because my defense was extremely ill-planned, as one droplet could simply bring a chained downfall. It didn’t serve to last, and I wonder if it wouldn’t resist if I just had it done with more diligence, competence and sense of priority.

One of the reasons I’ve met such a crisis is because all of my effort throughout the whole year didn’t change a thing, and that creates in me an aversion to this fool’s play. I thought I could say I know myself and so I can protect myself easily, but the answer was a deafening alarm. But I wonder, was this naming spree not enough, or is it the very reason it didn’t work in the first place? Maybe I had given it more importance it deserved, and so behind this naming scheme the explosion was being built.

The more I try to take care and organize my mind, it builds up more chaos than if it was left alone, like most people deal with it. And I think others probably won’t suffer this much from uncontrollable forces like I do. It really seems they have them under control more easily than I do. Seems I’m really incompetent in searching and organizing my mind and soul, or maybe I am just giving too much food to the black wolf.

Of chained downfall

One of my main excuses for analyzing myself is that events in my life are easily analogous to historical events, and that skill becomes important outside this introspective place. It’s also one of the reasons why the string studies feel so exciting to me, the way they can bear similarities despite being in a different scale, or a different system whatsoever.

For instance, one of things I am seeing in my own life and that I am most sure it happens in history, is how events interact to form a major change. It’s about these events in first braudelian level being impacting enough, but at first being seemingly unimportant.

In my life, one little mistake I can make can be chained to my insecurity that will make me question my own competence, which can of course hinder my own confidence. This way, one seemingly innocuous error can be just the beginning of every deep crisis I can enter in my life.

It’s strange, though, that one drop that can start the chaos is much more frequent and much more powerful than those that can actually make everything look alright. One of the most unfair arbitrary rules of reality is how destruction is always much more expensive than creation.

Of unanswered calls (growing hunger)

Recently I’ve reached the perception that something from inside of me wants to scream, but I can’t tell what voice it is. I don’t know what urge, what energy, what crest is it for me to give an answer. And as I can’t identify it, all my attempts to catharse it out of my chest are ineffective.

Sometimes I feel deep feelings inside, something mysterious but powerful. It’s a sudden feeling, a response to the world almost like the weighing lead, but this one is an unforeseen feeling of sadness. It can begin like a very soft signal of distress, like that smell that makes us concentrate force in the nostrils to feel it.

It’s mostly something little and unimportant, but there are times when it really feels deep and unknown, a strange urge to cry. Maybe it’s happens by growing or maybe I am just getting closer to the core. Sometimes a good scream or some tears bring catharsis, but it doesn’t always work, because it doesn’t match the feeling inside. I don’t really know what it means, but it has been frequent lately, and the tricky thing is that it remains deep, thalassic, and I can’t get rid of it.

I try external and internal crests, and nothing works. I open the box and I try Opals, I try Trygve, I try Etherways, I try Sour Fuel, I try Scarpride. Nothing works. No axiom cast by a Flame works effectively. And then the real world calls me and I get out of my spiritual world. Or I can do it on purpose, going for a good laughter and worldly distractions. But it doesn’t kill the Hunger.

I am feeling it only briefly stunned. Soon it’s strong again, and it starts taking the shape of actual, literal hunger. And as I grow desperate to find the cure, I feel my body starting to shrink and meager.

Of thalassic gathering

One little minor element can have an incredible importance in defining the beginning of something like a crisis. It’s like the historical happenings that have major events defining them, and several minor ones as well. I just wonder how many of these minor events might have been overlooked, like the factors leading to the fall of Roman Empire or the beginning or early modern period.

It happens to me, these apparently unimportant events. And these droplets and particles, they are ignored for not being big dogs. But there they are, in thalassic grounds, creating a mutiny in disguise. And then I am damaging myself without my own awareness.

This realization is nice for me now this self-descructive tendency I have has reached its peak, at the same time I am much more sensitive to every act of self-harm, and how one can call the next one and suddenly the gathering is enough for me to reach high sigma levels. Now I can see how listening to one simple song that brings me down can bring me down, and I recall these more youthful days when I’d listen to them and I couldn’t realize how I was unaware about feeding my scourgers.

Of chaotic and ordering droplets

There I am with my thoughts, my theories, my characters and quintessences, all arranged in structures I believe they can make some sense. I can only hope it can survive my own questions and doubts about its stability, when suddenly comes one little realization that pretty much destroys the order I thought I had.

It baffles me how often one whole structure can be wholly dismounted by this simple droplet of chaos. It’s one character that puts all scourgers in disarrange, so the current story I had becomes disintegrated somehow. It’s the same thing about the gemstones, when one new gem suddenly makes me see a new world of problems that I was entirely unaware of.

At the same time, but much less frequent, there are also some words and little connections that suddenly make the chaotic ambience incredibly ordered. It’s about this deus ex machine device that life can give us sometimes, fixing the puzzling combination that suddenly needs one note or one bigger view of the board for me to see the connecting stream behind.

These droplets make me think of the existence of cracks in whatever I believe is just so solid and well-structured, but just outside there is one unknown element that will shoot down and crash it all. And it’s not like these droplets that help me make me less uneased, as it’s also a sign of a poor vision of the game.