Venting Inner world dissonance

[Azarlea123]

You won't be wrong if you call this nonsense...

As a child you dream about something big. Carelessly thinking it's nothing to do to become an astronaut, businessman, neurosurgeon. Even simple dreams, you draw thinking one day your art will be in museums, make music like it will become a world classic and never die for centuries. At some point everything falls down. Or maybe, you fall down from the sky. The feeling of "not enough" strikes you on every thing you try. The constant inner monologue on what you should concentrate on, often going auto-mode just listening to your parents, who already lost their own dreams. You want to be beautiful only to realize you were born in the wrong body. You want to change it but you're in the wrong country. Strangely, nobody's concerned about their appearance as much as you do. Are they even concerned about anything? What happened in the past, what will happen in the future? You try your best to become the people you read about in the history books. Yet you can't comprehend why nobody shares the enthusiasm you have, when they have the chance. Screw the appearance then, I'll become an artist. Wait, nobody cares about artists? The thing you were learning for years can now be made in an instant. Your parents are not against it but you can read the shame between the lines of their encouragement. To become a programmer? All life to do something you never wanted. To have a business? You don't have money. Unless you can keep up with your dreams in a torturing way until your forties to make something worthwhile. It happens that you don't want to do anything now and all the things once easy became troublesome. You won't become an immortal composer, scientist, writer. Today scientists need half of their life to understand a bit more than others do, yet their contribution is so small that their name will become invisible in an infinite list of references in somebody else's paper. They live among you, they're ten times more talented than people before them, but do you know their names? The everyday things you use, the comforts you have, the medicine you take, do you know who has put so much effort and story into making them? And it goes like this exponentially, the further you go in history. You can't have the body you like, especially today when your world-image is corrupted by others' imagination and criticism. You can't realize your dreams; the world doesn't care about you. What are you looking for? Everything you try to tie your life with eventually gets cut. And it comes to the point where you have to ignore everything and continue, believing in nonsense or some unguaranteed hopes, or become like everyone else. I don't want to spend all my time lying in bed, watching tiktok, playing stupid games all day long, sleep, wake up, and go again. It's not about consuming, I wouldn't say that the person who goes to an art show is like the person who watches memes. Is it about the intellectual effort? But why? Though, maybe if it will be appreciated by at least someone, I'll be glad. Afterall the sky is not beautiful for us to look at, it's just like that by itself. Should I accept my body? Like the way I accept the world is not ideal. Should I continue to live, with the half of the steering wheel given to the rest of the world? Maybe it's not about work or money or fame or anything, but the things I like because of some random chance? It would be better if I wasn't so inquisitive, to ask questions that have no answer. Maybe one day I'll find the beauty I'm searching for, or to be left with a giant stop sign. Yet, I have this unique experience. I bear this name, this dream and these circumstances, which nobody else could or will ever have.

"I ought to have done something positive with my life, to have become a star in the sky, instead I remain stuck on earth and I'm now gradually fading out."

 

[xinino]

Realistic dreamer, I think that is the issue.

 

[sserafim]

You won't be wrong if you call this nonsense...

As a child you dream about something big. Carelessly thinking it's nothing to do to become an astronaut, businessman, neurosurgeon. Even simple dreams, you draw thinking one day your art will be in museums, make music like it will become a world classic and never die for centuries. At some point everything falls down. Or maybe, you fall down from the sky. The feeling of "not enough" strikes you on every thing you try. The constant inner monologue on what you should concentrate on, often going auto-mode just listening to your parents, who already lost their own dreams. You want to be beautiful only to realize you were born in the wrong body. You want to change it but you're in the wrong country. Strangely, nobody's concerned about their appearance as much as you do. Are they even concerned about anything? What happened in the past, what will happen in the future? You try your best to become the people you read about in the history books. Yet you can't comprehend why nobody shares the enthusiasm you have, when they have the chance. Screw the appearance then, I'll become an artist. Wait, nobody cares about artists? The thing you were learning for years can now be made in an instant. Your parents are not against it but you can read the shame between the lines of their encouragement. To become a programmer? All life to do something you never wanted. To have a business? You don't have money. Unless you can keep up with your dreams in a torturing way until your forties to make something worthwhile. It happens that you don't want to do anything now and all the things once easy became troublesome. You won't become an immortal composer, scientist, writer. Today scientists need half of their life to understand a bit more than others do, yet their contribution is so small that their name will become invisible in an infinite list of references in somebody else's paper. They live among you, they're ten times more talented than people before them, but do you know their names? The everyday things you use, the comforts you have, the medicine you take, do you know who has put so much effort and story into making them? And it goes like this exponentially, the further you go in history. You can't have the body you like, especially today when your world-image is corrupted by others' imagination and criticism. You can't realize your dreams; the world doesn't care about you. What are you looking for? Everything you try to tie your life with eventually gets cut. And it comes to the point where you have to ignore everything and continue, believing in nonsense or some unguaranteed hopes, or become like everyone else. I don't want to spend all my time lying in bed, watching tiktok, playing stupid games all day long, sleep, wake up, and go again. It's not about consuming, I wouldn't say that the person who goes to an art show is like the person who watches memes. Is it about the intellectual effort? But why? Though, maybe if it will be appreciated by at least someone, I'll be glad. Afterall the sky is not beautiful for us to look at, it's just like that by itself. Should I accept my body? Like the way I accept the world is not ideal. Should I continue to live, with the half of the steering wheel given to the rest of the world? Maybe it's not about work or money or fame or anything, but the things I like because of some random chance? It would be better if I wasn't so inquisitive, to ask questions that have no answer. Maybe one day I'll find the beauty I'm searching for, or to be left with a giant stop sign. Yet, I have this unique experience. I bear this name, this dream and these circumstances, which nobody else could or will ever have.

"I ought to have done something positive with my life, to have become a star in the sky, instead I remain stuck on earth and I'm now gradually fading out."

It's sad how your childhood dreams get shattered. As a kid, you believe that the world is your oyster and that you can do and be anything. However, once you become an adult, you're forced to confront the harsh and cruel nature of reality. Your dreams will never be realized and instead, you'll be stuck in survival mode and struggle to make a living just to survive. Adulthood is all about survival, and once you grow up, you'll have to be a slave to capitalism for the rest of your life. This is why growing up is the worst tragedy in my opinion. As a child, you believed that you had the whole world at your fingertips and that there were endless possibilities. However, this simply wasn't true. We were all deluded about the nature of the real world. The loss of childhood dreams is depressing. None of your dreams got actualized. They were just out of reach. You're like Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell to the ground. It also reminds me of a fall from grace. You shined too bright, and burned out

Realistic dreamer, I think that is the issue.

Wdym

 

[Azarlea123]

Realistic dreamer, I think that is the issue.

I like the way you put it. That's basically what I was trying to say. I think I'm not the only one who struggles with an inner fight, dreaming for big things and in the same time understanding that it will probably stay just a dream for the rest of life. I don't know if this section or even this forum is a right place to post my emotions, but I feel quite comfortoble here. It always comes to the same problems and culminates into a state like the whole world is going to collapse, but after some time it calms down. Like you start to finally feel okay after you cry the eyes out.

It's sad how your childhood dreams get shattered. As a kid, you believe that the world is your oyster and that you can do and be anything. However, once you become an adult, you're forced to confront the harsh and cruel nature of reality. Your dreams will never be realized and instead, you'll be stuck in survival mode and struggle to make a living just to survive. Adulthood is all about survival, and once you grow up, you'll have to be a slave to capitalism for the rest of your life. This is why growing up is the worst tragedy in my opinion. As a child, you believed that you had the whole world at your fingertips and that there were endless possibilities. However, this simply wasn't true. We were all deluded about the nature of the real world. The loss of childhood dreams is depressing. None of your dreams got actualized. They were just out of reach. You're like Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell to the ground. It also reminds me of a fall from grace. You shined too bright, and burned out

You said it very beautifully. There'se a proverb roughly translated: children want to grow up, adults want to become children again.

 

[sserafim]

I like the way you put it. That's basically what I was trying to say. I think I'm not the only one who struggles with an inner fight, dreaming for big things and in the same time understanding that it will probably stay just a dream for the rest of life. I don't know if this section or even this forum is a right place to post my emotions, but I feel quite comfortoble here. It always comes to the same problems and culminates into a state like the whole world is going to collapse, but after some time it calms down. Like you start to finally feel okay after you cry the eyes out.

You said it very beautifully. There'se a proverb roughly translated: children want to grow up, adults want to become children again.

The saddest thing is that I never even wanted to grow up though. I became an adult against my will

"Used to play pretend, give each other different names
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away
Used to dream of outer space, but now they're laughing at our face saying
"Wake up, you need to make money", yeah
We used to play pretend, give each other different names
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away
Used to dream of outer space, but now they're laughing at our face saying
"Wake up, you need to make money", yeah"