Ingwar Grimsson

wanna breathe

desire can only be fed

inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me

you only die once

another wasted evening after my 9-5 (in fact, 10-19). feeling damn misery and an urge to demolish smth

seems i should load content in myself on a constant basis to remain on the feet. otherwise, the brain, this parasite of still unknown nature, will find a way to drown myself into sins, like gluttony, sloth etc. the most common sins of generic people, besides the anger

i’d rather drown in pride

also feeling long for a fresh conversation with somebody not from my current circle; someone new to enhance my inner Abyssinia

i can see the future: as usual, i shall shut off at about 2 am, shall be late for the office, shall do nothing useful today… so tired of myself

how do i make myself real?

Had a transparent conversation with Music the day before: she asked what exactly I’m searching from our interaction. Told I’m taught to not build long-living expectations, and it’s more important to save comfort for the both sides in a moment.

Also introduced a specialty into our conversations after she said she takes promises very seriously — promised to answer frankly to any question she addresses. Hope it won’t come out sideways.

Thinking of the options of going out this Sunday. It’s quite cold in MSK already, but we’re heading into the outer environment. There is cinema option as well — ‘Bird’, 2024, freshly released.

Wouldn’t like to fall too deeply, but it seems to already happen.

Building cloud castles along with Music, feeling like I’m surpassing some unseen limits. Offered to travel either to Greece or Czech Republic during following July-August.

Also we’re going out this weekend: in cinema or in Kolomensky valley. Being a bit nervous, but eager about this fact.

I wonder how she is in the real IRL life. Also going through self-acceptance as ‘estrogenic moron’, how net-troll commented my photo from Kirow. Hope that Music won’t get pushed away by my current appearance — whatever people say, we tend to dis-sympathize those whose outer look is not conventional.

Don’t saying mine is, but I’m a bit fat now. 90 kilos are my own burden. Shall be a long time losing ‘em.

Anyhow, I got to betray my whole personality constitution and try to live without S.; seems like her reoccurances cut me off so deeply that my life turns into garbage straight away. I managed to live somehow without her for half a year — will manage further, perhaps. She should be accepted as a virus I ought to recover from and gain immunity. Idk how, since I'm still sick, but maybe sometimes better times will reach. I just have to move on in this immense world of pain and beauty and try to save my own summer from it.

Bored of dumping the theme of suffering creator, of my misery, pain, etc, it's not that entertaining. Weak aura, as they say.

Loathe for office still persists tho.

Am I too brittle to handle two jobs or the matter is in the office itself? It's not a, let's say, hard style factory — why do I react so sharply to being a regular worker? Got too attached to the stereotypes about mindless wageslaving? Being wayward?

It started half an hour ago, and I'm still home. Didn't make night and morning posts at crypto-job once again.

Why am I playing with fire knowing well that reality will implement sanctions for being undisciplined, full of proper will? Why can't I simply follow the basic pathetic rules for the least considerable amount of time? Why do I tend to worsen my own life? Why can't I follow my own decision?

Somebody save my soul.

Bought my meds, will resume taking 'em from tomorrow.

Wish I was more confident. Wish I could express the stuff I feel, not socially-accepted prompts and narcissistic mist about poetry and eternity. Wish S. made up her mind and got back to me. Wish there were no traumatized psychopaths and crowds of dumbo conformists following them, having mistaken true power with various acts of violence. Wish kind people didn't have to act violent to simply survive. Wish things weren't so slow, pathetic, predictable and common. Wish I hadn't personality disorder. Wish I believed in God. Wish money'd sip from the sky. Wish I found an undeniable reason to live. Wish my close ones bystood me becoming real.

S. is unintentionally cruel with me rn. Knowing I still long for her, love her truly and naturally, she invites me periodically due to the ‘loneliness and nasty feels’, to ‘you are a precious person for me’ — that all despite her distant ‘current’ (let him burn in hell). Why does she proceed with my agony if she’s strong in her opinion about me — that I’m a bohemian dumbo with little material ambitions, who won’t ensure her happiness? Can’t comprehend and get beneath motions.

Maybe I should act bold, show cruelty in respond and disappear, leave her? I tried — to be frank, what I’ve not tried: girls in vain, office, writing a novel, self-destruction, this web-page…

Oh, a message from her.

Maybe the only style which is truly mine is not about light, heaven, joy, love, progress, smiles, cooperation, health, family, excellence, wisdom, power — but about dark matter of despair, shadow, solitude, black colour, frustration, drama, perversions, egocentrism, arrogance, hysteria, violence, weakness.

I would love to finally find myself in the first type, but again and again remain lonesome in the space of second type.

Perhaps, should accept that my role here is to be nothing more than a visionaire of decadence. Thus, at least, I’ll find peace inside of being a Sun denier, a vampire. Thus I’ll finally start doing practical stuff, not endless show-off.

How to remain kind and saint?

The Smiths’re saving me from despondency once again. In the heart of mediocrity, I tend to become crucially categoric, using words as a last weapon of defending from reality which is trying to slip into me and establish its own order. Nah, I’d been developing my own formula of existing for the whole life — widely accepted human recipe loses the inner fight.

Being so stubborn, so rigid I should accept the fact that, opposing the society, being a non-confor, I’ll be usually rejected by them. No surprise that tears of being lone appear afterwards.

Atmosphere prevails over sense, as I’m strongly convinced. Supreme sense fans’ve lead us to two World Wars in previous century.

Repeat mistakes.

Listening to witch-house in the office wc as a tradition to cheer myself up in the start of the day. There is this sadist sitting in front of my work place — feeling like he’s an anti-matter for my own entity.

The major part of my life felt insecure to use the vocabulary I use, either in eng or in rus. But what can I do with the fact I feel these loud words deeper than regular ones? Words are the continuation of one’s mind, the direct reflection, and I pretend to be unique, so can’t help myself with the pathos.

S. put a challenge in front of me — to stop being a weak infant. I’ll lead life as I should — as an unbreakable master, not a coward.

Willing to disintegrate her ‘current’.

Primal hate for every so-called ‘person’, starting from myself, for wasting gift of sentience as an absolute blind-mind moron, for destructing themselves through stupid amateurish life decisions, for being fearsome to live and letting themselves rot like a deso-maniacs in never-ending fading narcissism, having false excuses just for image.

S. states she’s in relationship now — childish distant type — and I ought to respect her chosen vulture, to accept the fact we’re apart from now on. How can I if the only human alive who doesn’t irritates me is her? How should I act if she sighs we’re both too weak to handle this life?

Guess the answer is clear. Let’s see how long I’ll be a berserk.

Took a medical day-off without opening a medical list — there are 4 of them per year. Will try not to mess up this timeout.

Coincidence, but S. just asked me out this evening. Another act of reminiscence from her, bonds of our past — like a chain (keeps us together, as Fleetwood Mac lined). So melted that still dimly fantasize of our retrouvailles, would send to devil every offence, each single resentment if it grants me again with lost paradise.

Sure, it will be another one regular taboo meeting with nothing resulting in the happy-end. 'Show must go on', as they say, God still isn't over with me, so I barely deserve my wasted dreams.

Ought to crave something else to replace.

Of course, overslept — office started 10 minutes after I opened eyes. Although I may arrive whenever I want, the task is to spend 9 hours there. Will be home late again.

Think I should really stop being ignorant to basic parameters of my life: activities, schedule, nutrition etc. Perhaps, namely due to my indifference, I feel so wrecked and desperate.

Playing with fire.

Should end this sabotage and finally start doing something, not mocking or pretending to do, but actually doing stuff that ensures my basic needs like survival and safety.

Does it make any sense in our historical times? Awkward excuse, let’s be sincere.

Pointless sacrifice, though artistic.

Chilled completely and abandoned amorous yearn tied to Music. Old enough to filter impulses, to act consistently and adequately. After all, I still don't know her, although our souls and minds had a few nice evenings online. Got a tremendous, frightful in its width field of work yet to be started — first, I got to load myself with it. Maybe, I'll get lost in the middle of field; maybe, the field of work over oneself is boundless — I'll figure out in the process.

Having a tenacious feel that in so-called real life I wouldn't last any considerable amount of time. Too tender, too naive, too weak.

That's why I need a beloved one, just like any artist. In the name of muse, life costs living.

Endless vortex of words — bright words, sharp words — is curling within, while I stand in the heart of cataclysm, leading the ballet.

Survived this day of unexpected psychic doom, superficially reflected here, — having an afterparty at home. Realized that I’m tired of net-acquaintances and there is a need of so-called ‘digital detoxication’. Will try to go on the way of higher resistance: finally read ‘Hunger’ till the end and stop killing time in chats and channels browsing.

Should be fully armed and ready when muse visits my life. Got to remember about stoics and, perhaps, re-read letters to Lucily by Seneka. At the peak of previous spring’s madness even dedicated a verse, also to Lucily.

Filled with mortido, caught a thought that my idealism is similar to sky on my shoulders. If I want to remain unchanged, I should be ready to face challenges — especially dirty tricks from Id and Ego, like:

‘Absence of outer solace forces to search for it in dreams about death or, at least, self-isolation. The only martyr responsible for this current doomed state is me.

It doesn’t ease the choice at all. Fundamental question of philosophy.’

Sure, this dark state is temporary. Probably ought to continue taking my meds. Also to attempt to change habits.

Though won’t quit smoking while I am an office rat — my form of objection, of outcry.

Arrogant, stubborn writer — what a vulgar cliché.

Knitted of paradoxes, I wish there was a place in the world for a person like me.

Avoiding office tasks self-locked in the wc, half an hour has passed already. Been trying to realize why I started to post so frequently and can’t wait till 2 hours pass. The issue of rat pressing the satisfying button till it dies mixed up with urge to be heard and understood — both reasons’re not handsome.

Need peace desperately, seems like life is proceeding to a void, to a pointless epilogue.

Sometimes think I deserve every blasphemy existing, the other times — that unlimited pleasures and tones of life are existing for me personally.

Need to stop being a drama prince. Wish I could find proper words.

Intricate mid-term state: thinking without judging at all, attempting to exert the local life while staying deeply chained inside. Caught myself at negative motions towards things surrounding me, like they should be changed, improved or completely erased.

I’d love now to find myself in warm hugs making microwave noises for an hour long.

Office people seem enemies; I should keep in mind that normality always strikes back. All my exaggerated pathos has basic real roots — and the deal is not as tragic as seems. Yeah, I am lonely, but so are 98% of people. All and all, moaning for exceptions.

Definitely should stick off that page, but don’t want to. Will let this flow proceed, I guess.

While I’m still alive, the best and noblest thing I may produce is leaving as much light, content, beauty as possible for those in the future who’ll happen to collide with my controversial legacy.

This is what I currently find meaning in: lesser hope left for the contemporains, so making a bet for the future seekers. A slice of drama: I work in a stereotypical office, with dumb ordinary gray stress overwhelming from time to time, feeling the time is piercing me at each moment — art at least justifies this prolonged execution.

Long for Music. Still at the stage of creating proper attitude towards her, don’t want to push her away.

People need people — classic truism I cannot conquer.

Something not healthy’s happening: becoming chaotic and irresponsible once again. Was productive at crypto-job for three days, but then hands lowered. Forgot to make both night and morning posts.

Roasting, abusing my body for no sake: smoking, eating irregularly. At least, brushed my teeth before switching off. Now am going to be late to the office, as usual.

Ought to start trying hard, to recall Alice with this damn escalator you have to run harshly to remain on the same place.

Feeling imperfect, in two words. I just want things to go smoother, to taste the poetry, not routine, to know that there is place for memory in the titles of my life.

A bit tired of being lone existential dumbo.

Feeling a bit despondent — perhaps, before new office cycle. Dunno how long this experiment will persist: caught an opportunity starting from 2025 to work for the same wages in more interesting and relatable to my inner motions project.

Evidently inducing myself to go insane about Music. Then S. sent a healing reel about loneliness, encountering new board of perception in the aftermath.

Foreign neighbours are yelling at the moment, a bit embarrasing.

Cannot accept my experience and products of it if there is no impact on the others. Love to create impact, but am afraid to go hard — as a result, make no impact at all. Touching, not hitting.

Abusing this web-page, will try to slow down.