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One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.

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393After each day we are a little bit emptier, a little bit heavier, a little bit rustier. We’re greeted by another kind of fatigue, just when we thought we were able to forget yesterday’s. We blindly bite into the ground with such absurdity. Repeat.

 

392Solemn whispers determine nothing. they can’t bloom. They are a kind of preposterous metaphor. Everything conspires to harm you and there is nothing you can do against it. Everyone is miserable but just a few know it.

 

389Being constantly worried means to think of oneself constantly, incapable to visualize a neutral path forward. In this fragile state you want to be considered invisible and you want people to be completely ignorant of your proceedings. Except that, deep in your mind, you really don’t want that, you want the opposite of that.

 

388Glued to ourselves, we’re unable to leave the course imbedded in our own misery. Maybe that’s why we love things that are official, so we don’t have to think or take responsibilities. We especially love things that are extra official. It’s fun being evasive, isn’t it?

 

387If we’re able to name what gives us pain, we endure it better, we can fight it and move on. But embracing the painful by defining it means we are rejecting it, we don’t want to claim that as ours, we reject ourselves. But it is yours, no matter how much you deny it. Defining things, labeling, is a destructive vice.

 

386We all have different physical features that make us different, but we all have the same defect: we wait for things. We only live when we have nothing to expect. We’re, therefore, always indirect, always late. Always late. Always.

385When you can’t sleep you’re drowned into a pit of irrevocable sorrow, deprived of forgetfulness, begging for the darkness to leave, even if it means going through the day without a break. The sight of a bed can be terrifying.

 

382At certain times, there is an overwhelming sense of tiredness for the life one leads, but since that feeling is considered a combination of superficial luxury and weakness, we stubbornly place it in a black box, lock it tight, and throw away the key. We thrive in its melancholy.

 

381Some people believe that our existence is fulfilled within solitude only, that we need to be in solitude because we are individuals after all. I think those people have an image of what they want to destroy, not of what they want to create. They will eventually toss you out, just don’t resign yourself to the cell they want to put you in. Don’t do that to yourself.