What if I tell you I prefer Storms over a clear day? What if I say I prefer sunsets over sunrises, darkness over light, nights over days, moon over sun, solitude over company?
What if I have not just gotten used to this suffering but am kinda enjoying it? Does that make me a crazy person? But how do you distinguish sanity from insanity? What makes someone superior?
What Dostoevsky said is just stuck in my mind. Thinking about it, over and over, I feel kinda superior at times but then just return back to being miserable and inferior as I already am.
“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart,” he says. Does that mean this intense pain I go through simply implies that I have a deep heart? Does that mean I’m intelligent? I’m better? Superior? Naah!!! It’s just my inferiority complex messing around. People with a superiority complex have felt inferior at some point in the past. They just develop the latter to overcome the hurdles caused by the former. “Delusions of Grandeur” psychologists call it. Don’t you think a narcissist is just scared deep down? Ughh why am I talking about my findings again?
Do you think my love for the dark, my liking for the thunder, and my getting used to my suffering make me a misfit?
Oh sure!! I’m a misfit for sure. But the thing is, I don’t wanna fit. I never tried to. That doesn’t make me any better or more significant. I’m as insignificant as you think I am, or even worse. That just means I am on my own. On my own, suffering, waiting for a happy ending.
What’s a happy ending to you? Have you read The Trial? If you haven’t, visit me sometime, you can lay your head in my lap, and judge me by the dusty pile of old books in the corner while I read Kafka’s agonizing writings in a soothing, calm voice.
So, I think just like Joseph K., the protagonist, I’m going through a trial. Arrested without even knowing the accusation. But don’t I deserve an ending like him? Don’t you think I’m worthy of dying and being at peace just like before I existed? It was Joseph’s birthday when his trial ended. So, my admirer, my spectator, would you give me a happy ending by putting a knife in my heart on my birthday?
— from the archives…
