Dazed and Confused

I’m numb, so much bloody information, I have spent too much time the last few years absorbing information, I always wanna know more, read more, see more youtube videos, more more more information , more bollocks, more more more.

And I spend little to no time creating in return. So many shite I hear, see, look for, but never do, create, or work for. I live through other people experiences, shite, all this infoxification and I don’t even watch TV. It’s easier to just watch, time passes by, life passes by.

And the worst of it? I’m a fucking addict, I like it, I don’t wanna stop. I consciously look for it: googling it, browsing it. I put aside my to do list, my creativity. And as with all addictions, it has been so difficult for me to realize I have one, especially one that’s socially acceptable, and even desired.

We are the generation of “entrepreneurs” well we might, but I need to be a “continuedeur” too. So many shit left at the middle of the way, so many ways of escaping reality.

I have become mediocre, I just let life pass by.

I have always been running away, all my life. (At least) since I was six I’ve this desire of running away. I was born in a place where I always knew I didn’t belong. First I tried so hard to fit, latter I said “bugger that” and just accepted my place as someone without a place. Later I thought Ihave found and equilibrium when I did the bare minimum to be a functional human being as a self-domesticated misfit. But in the path of domestication I have lost my self. Or maybe I have never been able to be more than a mediocre that knows how to make an impression? So many people consider me smart, maybe not likable but definitely smart, whilst I’ve never felt particularly brilliant. Perhaps all that rubbish compliments made me believe I was actually a smart person capable of things and on the contrary I’m just a scum.

I don’t even know what I want (speaking in concrete achievable terms) But have I ever known? After running away, what? I ask myself. The only thing I do know is that I’m happier when I create, and I don’t know how or what, but I know I must do just that: create. So I started vomiting my head in this page.

Hope this is a start of getting off my arse, and force life and infoxification to stop fucking me, now might be my time to fuck them back and see if they get addicted in return or if at least the “dazed and confused” feeling wears off.