Confessions

I got this, I’m 34. I got this, I’ve gamed the game, I’ve cracked the code. I got this, I’m 34. I know what it’s like being an adult and I think I can now understand what life is all about, but still… I drink every day, because life’s too scary otherwise.

I want to give up, every single day I feel like I can’t take it anymore. I know I will die eventually, and that scares me more than it should. It scares me more than I dare to admit to myself.

2 years ago I decided I didn’t want to work anymore, and the last 18 months I’ve spent about 12 hours a day working hard every day creating ways to generate 10 different sources of passive income so that 2019 is the last year I need to work. I’ve spent 12 hours a day for 18 months learning new things, trying new methods, techniques, improving myself, and still, every night when I go to bed I imagine myself getting a heart attack or a seizure of some kind and ceasing to exist.  I imagine everything I’ve worked so hard for going to waste and I realized the countless hours I spent working have been for nothing because I haven’t enjoyed a single one of them. I want to read and write books every day, I don’t want to do the stupid amazon affiliate websites, or the stupid clickbank offers, or manage the FB groups, or send the Fiverr orders, or set up the proxies and bots, and the fb ads and write bullshit posts on some crapy PBN all so that I can rank some random s***, and that’s all stupid, and at the same time it’s the only way I can somehow build a future for myself in the one I can be financially independent.

And once I’m financially independent then I still have to deal with all the underlying mental problems I’ve been carrying with me for a good 20 years already. I’m a teacher pretending to be an author pretending to be a graphic designer pretending to be a marketing expert pretending to be a translator pretending to be an advertiser pretending to be a salesman pretending to be a hacker pretending to be a teacher, but then I look at myself in the mirror and I see nothing and no one, I just see someone who would die soon and become dust just like everyone else. I see a guy who had faked it till he made it, and once he made it he faked it even more because faking it had become a lifestyle in and of itself. I had realized everything is fake and everyone is fake and life makes no sense and there’s no meaning to it all, it’s all just random, pointless rubbish, at least 80% of the things I spend my time on every day are stupid and meaningless. 

And everything’s a game that makes no sense and people are crazy and the world is a scary place and I look at myself in the mirror and I tell myself “you’ve got this, you can do this” when I’m actually scared to death of the world around me. And I listen to k-pop every day because it’s the only thing helping me balance the horrors I’ve seen throughout my life. And what it truly means to be aware of oneself.

In my 20’s I thought it’s all about experiences, I have to do and see as many things as I can before it’s too late, it’s all about traveling and learning. And now in my 30’s I think, it’s not about experiences anymore, its all about doing whatever I need to do to get me through the day, it’s all about surviving today and somehow avoiding getting crushed by the enormous existential weight of being alive.

And I know that someone I know is crying right now, and someone loves me and someone hates me, and someone very far away is singing a very cute and lovely song. And I know my dog is dreaming of me and I know millions of animals are slaughtered every second because people are cruel and horrible, and I know I don’t want to live on this planet anymore and I’m ashamed of belonging to the human race, and this is me, and these are my confessions. I’m writing this in a small fishing village in Ecuador and you’re reading this in a country very far away from Ecuador but you still somehow manage to relate to some of the things you read here and maybe even feel a bit sorry for the author of this post.

And deep inside me I know I’m the real thing and I know I shouldn’t be forced to play the “fake it” game, but I am, and I look stupid playing it and I know it. And I also know that’s just the name of the game my generation has been forced to play, we are all “influencers” and we are all begging for attention and fighting each other for a piece of the pie. The thing is, the pie is not big enough for everyone, so it’s a cutthroat business for those of us who make money online. The pie is too small and people have very sharp knives and it’s not even a pie, it’s a cake, and the cake it’s a lie.

And I’d like to order a big cappuccino and sit in front of you at a coffee shop downtown on a Tuesday afternoon. And I’d like you to tell me that I’ve made it, that this is it, that I can relax now because it won’t get any better than this. And I’ll secretly smile, take a deep breath, look at my hands to make sure I’m not dreaming, then look at you deep in the eyes and take a sip of the drink I was carrying in my jacket’s inside pocket instead of the cappuccino, because life is still too scary otherwise.

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