Reality or illusion in which my brain has lived for years?

 * Warning: Do not read if you are being treated for any mental disorder or illness (or if you do not have a diagnosis but you don't want to get worse), this article would certainly negatively affect you, which is not my goal because I understand how important it is to take care of yourself and that normal people actually want to be better, that not everyone is a monster like me. The rest of readers have been warned as well, if you don't like reading a bunch of self-hatred and resentment then get out of the article, I feel like letting my most cynical and disgusting side out (probably the diplomatic side will soften it a bit, but I sincerely don't give a damn anymore) . For anyone who continues to read, keep in mind that my way of thinking is disturbed, at least by the definition of psychiatry (I don't give a damn for that either), but I am still a realist. I do not want any censorship, I do not force you to continue reading. When I think about it, don't read anything I write, I write articles anyway just because I'm overwhelmed by thoughts that have been running through my head for a long time and I have no one to share them with, don't want to bother anyone with my trivial ideas and thoughts. *

   In the last few years, a lot of work has been done to break the stigma around mental problems, at first timidly, and then more and more people got involved in the campaign. Of course, many wanted to share their story, feeling as if they could finally open their souls without judging of their surroundings and maybe to help someone with their experience. Let's clear out this before I start, I think this kind of sharing of positive experiences is good for people who are at the beginning of symptoms and who need mild help from a psychologist or older person to help them overcome that obstacle or period, while preventing further deterioration of symptoms, and such people need it the most (which would be said in our country "iron is shaped while it is hot", aka it's better to do something in the right time than to wait and miss a chance or to let it fail). And so, there are a lot of positive stories in those campaigns, a lot of them end with the person recovering, their life changing for the better, finding a job, the love of their life, etc. It all sounds like one of those happy-ending Hollywood movies where the main character is rewarded for everything he has survived in those two hours or as long as the movie lasts. And I'm glad for the people who succeeded in that; I believe that everyone deserves peace and happiness in life, I think it's good that their experiences may save someone's life, so don't expect me to start saying something against them, I said I'm a realistic person and I really wish people well even though I'm antisocial human garbage. So, I don't mind people who want to motivate someone with their life story with a positive outcome, I also try as hard as I can to give support to others, even though I don't care about my life or anything else; what actually started to irritate those last three active ganglia in my brain is that this "positive psychology" is being pushed too hard in places like (news) media and social media, so we're so "bombarded" by same phrases about how much mental health is important, about the symptoms of various disorders, about the need to seek the help of a psychologist or even a psychiatrist. Mental health IS important, and pointing out symptoms may help someone to recognize in time that they have a problem (although many mentioned symptoms can be more or less identified with people who do not have the disorder), going to a psychologist should not be a taboo subject in any society; however, the reality generally works differently, at least when more difficult cases are involved.

    Sometimes I have no idea if I could classify my stories as raw realism, motivation by showing the negative side or demotivational reading after which you feel awful for least three days (almost no one shared experiences about stories because they haven't read or did read them but just didn't like it, and maybe it's better that way). As for my personal assessment, I would classify my stories in the genre of ordinary garbage, they will end there when I die and when these greedy bastards come to rummage through our things (I tried to talk to my parents about the inheritance of the house after my death so many times; I don't want my father's relatives to take everything as if it were theirs, because they make this little bit of life that we have left even worse), and I've written quite a bit on the topic of psychology and psychological disorders. Of course, since I am an insignificant creature who was educated about psychology and psychiatry from books, medical articles, observation of other people and personal experience, then my opinion does not count because I am stupid and so on. I should know where my place is, I should probably get some job with the minimum income (if I succeed in finding that, I've been in the unemployment office for seven years) where everyone will mock me for being clumsy (I am not capable of anything in life, I spend food and air in vain), maybe I will have less time to write nonsense that no one reads. Anyway, if anyone had read these things they would notice that I write from the position of a "sick" person (I intentionally put quotes, because I'm no longer sure about the existence of the universe, let alone what is a disease and what is normal), and my stories usually have difficult endings (Absolutely every story in which I am a character does not have a happy ending, at least not by your standards - for me they actually have a happy ending), so I have no doubt that someone would say that they influence someone badly, the same goes for my lyrics. However, according to that logic, doom metal and black suicide depressive metal would not even have listeners, they would all die by now. I don't hide that besides symphonic metal I listen to other types of metal, mostly with female vocals, I listen to different bands and genres - from rock music to something completely different like disco or pop music, there are a lot of songs for which I don't even know the exact genre. And so, one of my favorite bands that doesn't have female vocals or is not symphonic metal is Linkin Park, which I'm always glad to listen to. Their lyrics were written from "this side", they do not glamorize or force optimism, and as such they have helped many (young) people to recognize their problem, accept that they need help and even manage to recover. I am glad that I had the opportunity to read about how this band directly helped many people through its subject matter, I was a little reassured that it is possible to help someone through difficult subjects, that it does not always have to act negatively on people.

   There are those old stories about the song "Suicide Solution" by Ozzy Osbourne, otherwise one of my favorites that he sang, when a huge controversy arose because a young man shot himself in his house with this song playing. They claimed that the music influenced him to end his life, so the whole case ended in court, although the song itself is not even about suicide but about alcoholism (but, well, it has depressive parts that some of us who deal with it identify). People do not understand the difference between direct influence and identification; art cannot be the CAUSE of death, especially if we choose it - we adapt it to our thoughts, mentality and mood. We choose the things with which we IDENTIFY ourselves, which seem familiar to our soul, which we feel and need at that moment. Do you see how people at wedding festivities jump around with cheerful music, or how people who listen to music while exercising prefer energetic music instead of slow ballads? So many of us are looking for what will cause us the sensation we need, be it film, music, books, photography, or even some other things like food. There is a lot of depressing content on my phone, I often have folders with the most depressing songs / videos or pictures, it is ironic that they are what I need the most and I usually choose them when I want to listen to music. So, Nirvana didn't give me idea of suicide, nor Nightwish or Within Temptation, which are my favorite bands, or the once popular band amongst depressed teenagers - Evanescence (which is also on my favorite bands list), or Linkin Park, not even famous "Gloomy Sunday" (better known as" Hungarian Suicide Song ") can kill me. Not even Lana Del Rey can get a thought into my head that I didn't already have, not even individual songs from various bands like "Last Resort" (Papa Roach), "Jeremy" (Pearl Jam), "Join me in death" (HIM) , "Jumpers" (Sleater Kinney), "Fade to black" (Metallica), "Suicide by my side" (Sinergy)... Maybe this content has kept me going for so long, it helps me by giving me a sense of serenity for a while and thus delays my actual death. So, one day when I really (and finally) die, no one should dare to blame music or other content I love, unlike communicating with people this has never drained my energy and it never killed my will, quite the opposite. I emphasize once again that many of us identify with this content, but the reasons for acting in reality are usually much deeper than the lyrics of a song or scene like the one where Hannah Baker ("13 Reasons Why") slits her forearm in the bathtub, they cut that scene because it allegedly had a negative effect and that someone killed themselves because of it - the people who committed suicide probably fought with such thoughts from before, so they identified with the character of Hannah. After all, it's not so easy to slit the wrist "from the first try", especially with someone who cut himself for the first time in his life, so I personally find the scene a bit unrealistic in that sense (although it seems quite realistic to others, but my butchered hand knows how it works and how much it actually hurts), don’t try anyway.

   The hell would know how I started talking about music and movies, I've been so distracted lately that I have no idea what I wanted to write, I guess I won't forget the main feeling and thought that made me start writting this trivia. I apologize for my articles reaching over five thousand words, my style of expression is such that I start one topic, branch it out with topics that follow it, and then return to the original thought by summarizing what I wrote / said. I know that it is quite confusing for the reader, if anyone would even spend time on what I am writing or on conversation with me, so I warn in advance that continuing to read (or comunicate with me) will be a painful experience and I give them the opportunity not to get involved in that. For that reason, I'm not surprised that I don't have a lot of readers, and honestly, it's easier for me to write when no one expects anything from me, expectations ruin my creativity. If you've come this far, thank you, I appreciate your time and I apologize for my chaotic writing, that's what my thoughts look like - I start from one point, get to tenth, go back to the first, discuss a new detail I noticed in the meantime until I come up with some new philosophy. There is no living from philosophy, obviously, it is better that I was born to think less and function more (I do my job and I don't think about work when I say that, but to be a functional member of society, this way I am a waste of space). Okay, let me get back to the basic topic, whatever the topic is.

    I read articles from a domestic portal "Luftika" (I liked their style of reporting, they also deal with some social topics through criticism and pointing out where we are wrong as a society, and such a style of writing is close to my heart), and I would not be me if I wouldn't click on "other news under the tag # suicide", the word itself draws me to find out what else there is on this topic. I read several dozen articles all evening and the next morning, some certainly left an impression and created a different mood. The article with an extremely positive impression concerns a girl who talked about bullying in high school and how, sitting on the edge of an unfinished building preparing to jump, she answered the phone and told her mother through tears where she was and what she wanted to do. The mother was genuinely worried and told her not to move until her father came, and then they sat with her all night and showed that they really cared about her, aware that they could have lost her that evening, supporting her in the coming period when she went to a psychologist. That article almost made me cry (I could hardly refrain from crying), it's a pity that there are no more such parents who, despite great problems, primarily care about their children's lives (here the girl avoided complaining to her parents because they had some problems, she did not want to make their situation more difficult). May God bless her and her parents, wish there are more such parents, respect for such people (sorry for retelling almost the entire text, it really left a strong impression on me, I recommended reading in Serbian version of an article - wish there is some translation of it so I could recommend it to you as well). At the same time this article caused me positive emotions, but also reminded me that such parents are rare, which is the most difficult part of the whole situation - all parents should be like that, not be a rarity that we admire. Many parents from our environment do not take seriously even when someone openly mentions suicide, often when we mention our feelings we get some kind of criticism (not to write again what kind of criticism, I think I recently wrote in another article), we get everything but support and help, there is always something more difficult and important and we are expected to somehow postpone our problems (and if possible to solve them completely in the meanwhile because it seems tedious for them to deal with it at all). Fortunately, the girl from the article did not jump and was not injured because they prevented her just in time, but there were cases when even after the suicide attempt the person received criticism from her parents, or her parents still did not take the situation seriously, and there is nothing worse than that. I will follow up on another article with a more sensitive topic, from the point of view of a father who lost his son; I think that a man is right on some side, no one can replace those (young) people who were someone's children, even when they have brothers and sisters, I agree that it is a great trauma for them and their parents. I also agree that some suicides could be prevented if there is more trust between parents and children (although trust is not a static thing, it is easier to lose it and it is impossible to restore it completely), some parents want and can help but the child hides from them, at least at the beginning. However, as I have already pointed out, although every parent is expected to put the child first - this is not always the case, more and more families are not functioning properly and the child becomes the main topic only when he/she "does something stupid" (that's how parents call all our actions that do not suit them) and who "solve" such things by shouting instead of talking, and then those persons simply do not trust their parents.

    I like that a man wanted to show a young person who is thinking about suicide what usually happens after their death by showing what it looks like from the parents' point of view, which may affect people who have a good relationship with their parents, has not developed a deeper mental disorder and still has a chance to "get out" of there in time; with someone who has been in this for a long time, it becomes an almost impossible mission, especially if the person does not feel the desire to recover. You see, I first tried to kill myself at the age of sixteen, so I wasn't an adult, and that's when I started injuring myself with razors (I started hitting my head and chest at the age of twelve, in front of my parents while they were quarreled because I couldn't stand shouting anymore, and the beating of the head continued so now I have problems because of that), and the first thoughts about suicide appeared around the sixth grade, for which school was a stronger reason than the family situation (I wrote that in another article). I never ended up in the hospital - even when I overdosed on alcohol and pills several times or made a cut that would normally get stiches, I went through it all on my own, suffering all kinds of pain just so no one would notice - nor was I at psychiatrist, except once in the spring of 2013 when my mother and I were called because of my father (they caused us some administrative problems in the municipality and took my father to neuropsychiatry because he protested about it, my mother did not understand that they were actually calling us because of him). At the time, Ms. D. was convincing me that my only problem was "not hanging out with my peers". So, I agree to go there because they asked me to, I go there in an obviously depressed state and during the conversation (she also called my mother inside) it is mentioned that I was starving, that I had several cuts (the ones they knew about) and that I took a larger dose of pills (my mother talked about it nonchalantly, as if she didn't care), the lady prescribed me some pills on a natural basis because I'm obviously an easier case, despite the fact that I was already very close to ending my life (too bad I didn't, now I know how I could have done it without it occurring to me then). It has already ruined my already bad self-esteem and shown me that people don't really trust me, and at school they often made me a liar, I started to avoid communication because after a while it gets to the point where someone doesn't take me seriously, that's one of the things that hurt me the most. Even when I honestly wrote almost everything here, I still feel like no one takes me seriously (like in that joke when a patient tells the doctor that no one takes him seriously, and the doctor answers him with "Come on, don't be silly!") , maybe I have now strayed a bit from the topic related to the article I read. So, although I support the idea of ​​the article, I want to remind you that it is not always applicable because sometimes these parents are the causes of our problems, it bothered me that a person who ends his life is called "selfish" because he does not think who will be hurt by his death - unfortunately, people die under various circumstances, but no one who (God forbid) was killed in a car accident or died under other circumstances were blamed that they were selfish because they left this world, their parents carry the same amount of pain and may think they could have done something to change it, although they did not, just as parents whose children committed suicide mostly could not do anything. I say mostly because it is difficult to notice something in people who decide to take this step faster and who do not share their thoughts about it (without having a specific manifestation of symptoms that something is wrong, plus men show symptoms much less often than women), and let's be honest - would anyone expect that to happen every single time when there is a problem, especially if the person has never shown any signs of being prone to it? This is not a normal reaction to a problem, such an attitude is formed gradually, only if suicide is now so normalized and is presented as an instant solution to all problems because we will all die one day anyway, so why bother especially if there is still "much life left in front of us". Honestly, from the point of view of a "young" person who has had such thoughts for years, I go crazy when someone tells me something that has to do with my "youth", or when such an answer is sent to someone else (I wrote about it in the penultimate paragraph of the story "Dream Reaper" and a little bit in "13 Deaths, chapter - Dead", but there is an interesting article about it on this portal, so I'll follow up again); either they don't take you seriously and cry for you just because you were young / healthy / beautiful (as they wrote there) or they serve youth as a reason why you shouldn't think about death. It may be less logical for older people to kill themselves because they are closer to natural death than we are, but again they are the most vulnerable category when it comes to suicide (I understand why, Ernest Hemingway set the best example of it) so I don't see why someone is surprised by the younger people who decide to take that step. Wish that the circumstances are better so that they at least have something to keep their admiration for life, this way everything that happens only throws us into despair (I personally go so far as to compare the lives of people from all eras from the beginning of the world to people in the distant future , it seems that human civilization by itself is not going anywhere and that certain patterns will be repeated even if a potential utopia prevails, because the human soul is cursed to always need conflicts).

     I admit that this article frustrated me a bit because it emphasizes that children should (only) think about their parents and what they will do after that; I'm a fool who continues with this agony exclusively because of my parents, I've been doing a family job for years that we literally can't make a living from (if I mention that we should give it up they start yelling at me, now we don't even have transportation, so I don't know why the hell we work when we give half the money to deliver it), I cook for them to eat regularly (we used to wait until noon to have breakfast when I was kid, but in vain everything when almost every meal starts with shouting or even escalates into an argument), I clean the house, wash the dishes, help them if something has to be done (including gardening). This year I lost all my will to work, I really don't care about anything and anybody, I don't have the energy to continue like this, yet my mother has already started telling me that "I have to start working" (because yes, I haven't done anything whole winter, and not even the previous few years, so now I should finally start working  *sarcasm*). I'm tired of this kind of life, where for years we can't get running water, or do external or at least internal plastering / concreting of the remaining rooms, not to mention the roof, what was done in the beginning remained the same (only with small correction for which it would not be strange to collapse again, as once in the middle of winter). But it is not poverty that bothers me, but their behavior; All my life I have avoided getting them into trouble, but it has always been emphasized that "we have no problems with each other at all" and that it is usually my fault if I say something, I must not cause them problems by telling the truth, they are victims and I am a bad bastard who would be better off keeping quiet, all wrapped up in false liberalism and "the freedom to decide about my own life", knowing that I don't have the energy to take big steps anyway (but yet my fathers threathens with suicide every time I mention moving out for a job, or they plan that we go all together, in case you are wondering why I simply don't move out from them). The only "freedom" I've fought for is not to get married, but I also get criticism for that from time to time, I feel disgusting when they talk about it with other people: I don't care about your sweet-talking just to make others happier - if I say to not discuss it with others and you again speak about "potential relationships" with someone who has a "young man to marry", then you don't respect me at all, you automatically put a psychotic thought on my neck that you "marked" me as a potential bridegroom, you whose opinion is valued more than mine. 
Every time I rebel, I get criticism again for being hypersensitive, every time I want to discuss something and I need someone to calm me down or direct me - I get yelling and blaming me. In the next moment, I feel like I'm wrong to write about it at all, feeling that I've exaggerated and that they would be angry about it, so I start to reconsider whether I'm the one to blame and that it would be smarter to keep the details to myself and no one else, while not bothering others with it. All that annoyance of mine, of course, has nothing to do with the man who authored that article, it just reminded me that many of us don’t even have as many functional families (there are even many worse cases than mine), so I needed to add that part, I apologize if it turned out I didn't respect someone's pain because that's really not the case, quite the opposite. I am sorry for anyone who lost someone due to suicide, thank you for keeping the memory of these people.

   This is where I end up with articles, although there are still a lot of interesting things on this topic, I want to return to the thought that has brought me to a kind of psychotic phase in the past few days so much that I can no longer pick myself up. I recently wrote in "Missed Life ... Literally" that I would like a psychiatrist to give me an official diagnosis so that I can officially know what is wrong with me (I can compile a list of potential disorders based on my knowledge of them and long-term symptoms, but I would still like to hear a more professional person), so in the first place I would let myself know that I am not making it up and that all this is real. In the previous paragraph I mentioned that the only psychiatrist I went to technically declared me as an insufficiently serious case, at least that impression remained, and I say that my whole life they emphasize that I lie or do not take me seriously (I do not know how I earned that epithet when I mostly tell the truth, I don't see the need for lies except when I hide some private things that I don't need to tell someone not close enough, or things that are not shared with any other person). I have this long-held thought that I'm not in state bad enough for anyone to believe that something is wrong and I want to know if I'm just pre-dramatic or have a problem, and at the same time I can't stand people interfering in my life and I don't want help, I'm going crazy because of those two opposites. Every time someone mentions that "today many claim to have mental health problems, but in fact there is nothing wrong with them" in any form, I start to panic if I made everything up, that I could have live differently all these years and that I am to blame for this, that I may be to blame for everything else, from relation with parents, relation with other people, to problems at school. What if I don't have a psychosis that makes me think like that, but I'm just a really horrible person that makes people dislike her? Am I a hypochondriac who annoys others with her "diagnoses"? I don't have a diagnosis - that means nothing is wrong with me, it doesn't count, there are those who are in worse condition and I don't have the right to speak, I don't have a diagnosis and therefore it means I'm imagining, it must be it. I don't want to be one of those people they are talking about, I don't want to have a "victim syndrome" and just whine and bother someone, I don't want to be one of those who "diagnose themselves with serious diseases while they are not actually ill", nor to be someone who "does everything for attention". Even if it's just some stereotypes, I'm not going to be that person, so it looks like I have to stop telling anyone about my mental state, I don't want them to say that I'm lying. Honestly, what can I get in response other than - "If you've been thinking about killing yourself for ten years, why don't you do it once for all? Obviously you're just dramatizing, you don't really have a problem - you're in better condition than some others who don't complain. Don't play the victim, there are those who have it worse." - and they would be right. That's the question I ask myself every damn night before bed and at least a few times a day - why don't I kill myself once for all, when that's the only thing I really want? Why can't I at least once break away from the thought of how it will affect someone in terms of functioning (because I have my certain duties that would then remain unfinished, but why do I care about duties anymore?), to wonder if that fits into someone else's plans, how much I will annoy someone by not "choosing a better time for it" (due to weather conditions, amount of money, proximity to holidays or whatever), what will happen to the house and our old things that will mean nothing to others so they would destroy them? Why do I have to think about the fact that our house is constantly a mess because of too many stuff, so I get chills at the thought of a bunch of fools who barely knew me or we are, you know, "relatives" (whom I may never have met or I have no idea who they are) and who will be drawn in our yard to light candles and bring me various flowers; in the songs I pointed out that I don't need anything but a blue rose in my hands, I just want a blue rose and it doesn't matter if it's colored or artificial, just to be blue roses. Nobody will know that detail, it is important that they know to show at the funeral, although I don't want any of them, wish that my body somehow disappears completely, that they have nothing to bury, that they don't waste money - here we put some expensive black'n'white marble gravestones and I don't like them at all because they seem unaesthetic (I apologize to their producers, it's just my personal taste), I love those simple old-fashioned stone graves and I would like one if something has to be "thrown" over my finally calm head. I pointed out that I wouldn't approve and that someone shared meat "for my soul*"; if someone prepare meat for me, a vegetarian, I'll become a vampire and drink their blood, better to announce that while I am still alive, just in case. (*our native custom when family prepares various food "in the name of deceased person", mostly food that deceased person liked, usually taking it to the graveyard and giving it to the people who are there; in my mother's village they have a dinner with relatives instead, not taking food to the graveyard. Custom is likely not Orthodox but has Pagan roots, but it's very common in our villages - as I use to say, it's great way to spend bunch of money for nothing.)

  I am so calmed by "planning" my own funeral that I began to drift away from that paranoia from the middle of the previous paragraph, and that is what made me write, that feeling that everything I write and feel is based on something that others consider invalid and untrue. What can I do, I am a damn mess who puts other people's opinions, needs and feelings as a priority, I feel that I will hurt them or make them angry if I do not fulfill what they want (this does not apply to manipulators, I usually do not meet their needs anymore). And really, how to explain to someone why I haven't killed myself yet (even though I've had that plan in my head for years), how to explain that abstract feeling when I look around and get lost in the idea that things stay the way they are now, but they are no longer mine by the very fact that I no longer exist, that all this is no longer under my control - even those most private things whose appropriation would be like someone exposing my soul? How can I explain that feeling when I look at our animals (primarily dogs) and wonder if they will be fed regularly, if at some point someone won't kill them out of anger if they start barking constantly (as they often do), who will guarantee that they will be safe? How to explain to someone what it is like to be the only child with suicidal thoughts, when you know that there is no one to replace you and that all the responsibility is on you? I know what's comming next but I can't handle it, I break inside and those two people break me from the outside furthermore, sometimes they break my soul so much that at some point I don't feel any empathy and I don't care about their decisions and further course of events, and then I remember that I can't stand their death no matter what - I don't want them to die right after me, I don't want to watch them die. Who guarantees me that they won't change all of a sudden, that they will suddenly realize that I meant something to them so their dormant hearts will break, who guarantees this when they already know the whole story and use it against me relatively often? Will my death alone be a strong enough reason to be the priority on the list? I would like not to be aggressive and boring even then, wish I could simply disappear without anyone's life being disturbed or wasting someone's time, I no longer want anyone's time alive or dead, I just want to finally leave. That's right, I've been waiting for it for ten damn years, almost fifteen if we count from the moment I first thought of doing it - I know I'm acting like a liar and I'm working to get rid of earthly threads that still keep me because of obligation to someone or something, not because I want to; if this only concerned me, I would have been buried in town where I was born, maybe that's where I belong because my life began and ended there. My situation is the opposite of the situation of the man from the mentioned article - he wanted to know his son and would help him if he knew what was happening; my parents know everything for years, but in our family such things have never been considered important, and I am still here exclusively because of the two of them no matter what (I'm probably just spoiled and I deserved such treatment, it can be seen from all these articles that I'm a disgusting selfish person, I hate that about myself). We from the lower class can't afford therapies and treatments - true, we came to the conclusion that I don't have a problem, I'm just pre-dramatic, so I have no right to complain about anything - but this applies to people who really have problems, who are poor and can't afford better treatment. What would my friend M. say - "There are girls who live worse than you yet they don't complain, be more optimistic!" - here, even he showed me where my place was and that I was annoying, what to say about me in that case. Even these few people I know who go to a psychiatrist just get some medication and that's it, mostly that's how the psychiatric system works, it's more keeping someone alive than curing them (which annoys me because I care about these people and want them to get better, wishing that at least they get cured, but the hell with medicine when the doctor does not treat you but just stuffs you with pills for years). I am finishing this boring article (I guess at some point I said what I wanted to say in the first place), and I sincerely hope that my only wish will finally be fulfilled this year, to your and my satisfaction. The reasons for my desire have long since merged into one whole, with mixed colors like those big colorful lollipops made of fondant mass or whatever they are made from, having become one big nothingness that swallowed me, so don't try to understand that abstract thought about death that eats my liver every day, nor its principle of work - I don't understand anything anymore, and I don't even care about philosophizing anymore, I should do something so it can be counted as reality, this way everything looks like an illusion in which I live for years.