Monday, 3 March 2014

2nd March / Pills

     It is 3.48 at night, of course. I am getting to the point where I cannot do anything because I am tired and my eyes jurt, but neither can I sleep as my brian just does not turn off. Why there still isn't a button, an option for that. Oh, right, the pills - you may say. But I don't believe in taking pills as a good deed. Not because I wouldn't believe in fact that they work, they sure do. But I think, by time, using them daily, you no longer know if it's you who feels or is it just an effect or side effect of medicine. 
     Let's take for an example my mother (I am sorry if you by chance get to read this one day, mum, but for this moment, 03.03.2014.) I no longer know if when she is happy she actually is. It started as pills for falling asleep (as she for some time couldn't have any more than two or three hours, it's not a way of living), but now she has been on some serious anti-depresent kind of stuff. You cannot imagine how, when I didn't know what she was taking, I felt when I saw her being happy about little things, smiling and laughing loudly which happens quite rare. Now when she does, I try to look her in the eyes. 
     Whenever there is some sort of decision making, I see her as no longer a responsible, thoughtful person she had used to be, or at least seemed to me. Now I question all her actions and try to support her within my advice when it still should be the other way or at least on matter of equalness. And I am more than afraid of getting the same stage. So, whenever someone seeing my appearant never-sleeping-enough way of living, judging or even insisting on doing something about it, I will just silently swallow my words for saying that it would just (pardon my words, but no other due my lack of lexicon seemed to fit) fuck me up. 
     At some points I am really glad I have this place. Even though I could as well just buy a journal and write this all by hand and keep it person, I yet seem as this blog is sort of personal. Yet putting it there, for someone to read, if they care. But, yet, I question, how many people are there left on the Earth that actually care about others, especially strangers. I am a person you may have never met and most likely won't; no one from somewhere. And as everyone else, trying to become someone.
     Tonight (because of al the Oscars and so) saw The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), which I did not like for the way the women were portrayed there, but, oh man, Martin Scorsese has become on of my favourite directors for his way of building up the place and then at some point - tearing it all down. And fabululous Leo, of course. It is one of few films where he didn't cry, but here were a lot of drug use scenes, which follows up with the idea of this post. Yet, at many points it's just a one of those stories that has to be seen. I wasn't sure because of it's length and mixed reviews, but at many points it's just so good .. You know, like wanting to live such extravagant life when you may have everything you want. It is like this - oh my god - gif, just imagining having all the possibilities, less worries, anywhere to go, anything to own..
     Yet, happiness isn't a thing you may buy, but neither you can get it for free. 
     It is 4.34 as I am writing this line and it's time to go to bed. And leave the open tabs about Real-life story this film was based as a morning read. Even though all the twitter feed is now all about #Oscars, I don't really care that much about the whole process, like who is wearing what and how the evening goes. I really wish Leo would get his award finally. 

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