Embotedo :
It's because some people romanticize their misery and see themselves as a character in a grand tragedy where their suffering has a beautiful catharsis in the end. But real life, however, isn't like that. These people are just too far gone. Seeing themselves as a novel character they're reading and analyzing, because it makes their sadness more bearable. Observing sadness and easier than feeling them. But, they don't know they're like that; they are trapped in a self-deception. I, however, am pretty much aware of everything. I know everything that is wrong with me; every aspect, from my traumas, origin, and circumstances. Although, to be frank, none of them matters. I am all the things that are wrong with me—it's nothing external. It's because I'm so performative, that I can't even distinguish whether I'm performing or being authentic. Everything feels fake and performed. Even my own self-awareness is a performance. What is more fascinating, I think, is the fact that I'm aware of my own flaws and still not be able to change. I have insights of everything, yet I'm still trapped in this neverending performance for an audience of one. Yet, I know it isn't something to be proud about (although this insight is performative). Everything is just performative. I can't even devote myself to believing in an idea, or devote myself to a purpose or goal—it all feels staged. Like a forced character arc. I can't even pursue my life anymore, although I'm still afraid of erasing myself; though I know that I should do it, but I'm just afraid of doing it, because I know that I would just be a deception. Everything is a deception. Continuing will produce more deceptions, while ending would be the final deception in an endless series of deceptions. There's no use in choosing anything; everything is fake anyway. And I also know I'm living in bad faith, and this is another performance too.
2026-08-09 03:20:45