A new wind blows. Constantly. It softly whispers, sometimes crying out in despair.
I want to step onto the dangerous path of the unknown, but one of freedom. I will have to lose much. I want to go forward. But I don’t want to lose. Yet, one can never acquire something without losing something.
For the new, there must always be room, made by the old being cleared away. But to lose would be too much. Not just things. Not just people. Not just relationships. Everything. The familiar way of life—completely. This is the path of solitude. The path to power—always the path of one.
I feel that my being is constantly balancing on the edge between two worlds—the world of strength and the world of familiar, everyday joys.
And I also know well that one day, I will have to make this choice once and for all. And this choice will not come from the mind. It will simply happen to me. And I will not participate in it. Perhaps even, nothing will change for anyone regarding who I am in society. But for me, everything will already be different. Everything will already be other. And no matter how hard I unconsciously (subconsciously) try to resist it, I understand that there is no turning back. There is no path back. There is no path sideways. There is no path across.
There is only a path outwards. Beyond the boundary. Beyond the limits.
The responsibility for those to whom much is given is always great.
I’ve understood. Complaining is ridiculous. Resisting is pointless. I already know that the Path will find me sooner or later.
So let it find me sooner. I’ve understood. Resistance is pointless. I’ve simply accepted it.
I’ve often wondered—why do I feel so sad? Loneliness has nothing to do with it. This sadness is the subconscious understanding that you don’t belong to what you are. You don’t belong to yourself. You can suppress this voice that calls you to break beyond the closed walls. But then you die. And I’ve always wanted to be alive.
Until the end of the world.