Diary of me
2023-01-24 04:15:15 (UTC)

North American Panopticon

I sincerely would like to write something positive. But there are only negative thoughts in my head. I do not know what to do. One of the very first and terrible feelings that a person experiences when he finds himself in a foreign country and does not know the language of this country is a feeling of helplessness. When you can rely only on yourself and intuitively understand some things. The main thing is to overcome this feeling as quickly as possible. Arriving here, I very quickly ceased to be naive and began to expect a dirty trick in everything. I constantly write about compassion because I lack it, which is why I have no sense of solidarity with them and never can be. I still think about what one of my interlocutors said about America being a rich empire. During these four years, I tried to understand what is the catch here and, unfortunately, I could not get an adequate answer from the North Americans themselves and from myself. The lack of at least affordable medicine, videos of how cargo is stolen from trains at way stations, tent camps and heroin neighborhoods, the people with whom I communicate do not look rich at all and a colossal crime. These are all clear signs of poverty. I'm more inclined towards the fact that it looks like a sect where the adherents of the sect believe in outright lies, even if it is completely superficial. Everyone tells me, here, don’t look there, this is not America or this is the wrong America and that you need to look at good regions, talk only to smart people, as if trying to distract you from the huge mountain of garbage and corpses outside the window, showing you some beautiful vase. And I see this beautiful vase standing just in front of the same window, the landscape of which throws me into a cold sweat, terrifying even more. In the last entry, I wrote that I would like to go as far as possible from everyone to the island. You know, I would like to be the first person to enter a black hole and answer for myself at least the question of whether a black hole is a wormhole through space and time or just a gravitational trap evaporating everything that gets into it. A possible suicide for the sake of science makes more sense than one person's entire life.
But who am I saying this to? People don't give a shit about what they have outside the door of their house, not to mention space.
I began to understand what artists and musicians who were not pleasing to the authorities felt in the forced exile in the 1920s. All their works begin to play with completely different colors.
Anyway, there is good news, my vestibular apparatus has finally returned to normal, in the last trance I rolled my eyes and strained my head so deeply that it seems to have damaged or swept it away. Now everything is normal and I don’t feel dizzy and I can do gymnastics and exercises again. Another one of the hardest things to figure out which incident is serious for them here and which is not. North America was predicted a lot of things and even its collapse, but they always found a way out, just by the fact that I see it seems to me that things are heading for a civil war. Many radical groups are being formed supported by various elites, which is already quite serious. I worry about my friends here. As much as I was infuriated by their ignoring me and what I tell them based on my personal experience, I still worry about them.