Old(ish) man and the sea

 

Adrift at sea.

Adrift at sea in a small rowboat. Endless ocean waving across, with no shore or shelter to be seen. Two oars, a crude planket for cover and shelter. 'O' Mighty sea! Tell me where to go and see.'

There is no answer, no change. Only the waves creaking the boat. 

That is the overly common feeling for me during these last decades. At moments I have had a feeling that there is something somewhere if keep on rowing and rowing. Like a beacon - waiting, illuminating, signaling. A way forward. A way to new world and new existence.

To my understanding, this is a fairly common feeling for many: atleast momentarily, at some point of life. But what if it continues? It just goes on for decades without change. Decades drifting in the ocean.

 

I met this medical doctor who said to me these feeling are normal. 'Everything is normal. Everyone is normal. Find a job or a two. Fill your life with toil and off you go!'

I have met many medical experts. Without exception all of them swear in favour of the soothing effects of managed life consisting of active and hard labour. I've had no problem with that; for that is the model I was raised upon: 'Fill your life with toil and off you go!'

So I went though my schools, worked and wrote my thesis. Worked a bit there; worked a lot here; worked seldomly over there; worked my way wherever and everywhere. Like a diligent tailor I knit my clothes from small random patches.

But in the end I have realised you are just a buffoon with a stitched patchwork poncho in a world of fast nobles and fancy suits - who tell you to 'just fill your life with toil and off you can go!'

Trials, relapses and failures

 

I have relapsed, it was a while back. I wanted to write, but I couldn’t. Too tired, too ashamed.

Day 51, that’s it.

How do I count these days now? I relapsed and failed. During my previous trials I had many times compiled a plan to play a game. And when the moment came, it took me only five minutes to turn back to gaming. I had read and I had been warned to create obstacles and boundaries, that would inhibit the possibility.

I searched my computer for my compiled stash of old dos games. The sheer thrill of looking at my old favorites ran the urge up high. All these masterful classics: Covert Action, Buzz Aldrin’s Race into Space, Dune (the original Cryo Interactive version from 1992), Princess Maker 2, Ufo: Enemy Unknown, Floor 13, Hidden Agenda, Master of Magic, Sword of the Samurai, Settlers 2, Master of Orion 2. God, my mind salivated the very thought of returning to these good old moments.

I needed to wind down, get lost in the haze, forget the worries and woes. And the only solution left felt so commanding and strong. I knew I had only small sliver of freedom, a brief moment of time for myself before the harsh realities of life would begin their grind again.

After this moment of anticipation I just downloaded and installed dosbox. Rest is history.

It helps to forget the anxiety.

It comforts with its stories.

It lets the overactive mind finally rest.

-- It’s a poor substitution to a real meaningful life.