Back again to it.

My mind doesn't let me go from these, almost tiring, thoughts. The regret is biting my poor soul each day harder, taking a small part of me each time.

I sit, sit on my dark bed, head down in a submissive gesture. I do truly look like a pathetic excuse of a human – because there's barely anything left inside me, that would classify me as one.

One of the main reasons people can still call me a 'person' is my feelings. I am resistant to everything but sorrow. Sadness, in a character of regret, comes to me everyday. I try to refuse to acknowledge it ever since. But I know if I'll do this, I will be a shell of a human – probably like most of people my age. I see them as careless, not thinking organisms, that live from the sludge – mediaslop, ignorance, consumerism, lack of basic human feelings or have them reduced to almost nothing.

I fear I'll become this. That one day I won't be able to fight back the force of a mass. And it will take me without my consent, like a quick, agressive flow of an untamed river takes mercilessly the non-swimmer.

That's why I cling to history. It strengthens my mind, my heart, and my soul. Each one in its own right way. We can't forget also about the Patriotism – the small fire inside me, that most of the time becomes a big, hot flame – Nationalism. With realizing I am nothing much without my, almost empty, mind, I can easily put the state higher than I do stand on the pyramid of important things.

I want to cling to my difference – it makes me unique. I combine alot of topics, interests and references with myself, weaving them together into unique mind space, a niche that I can calmly live in, savoring each minute.

I fear I'll never be the person I want to be – all because of my sloth. 'can't do this.. Can't do that..not in mood..' what can I actually do then? What do I represent with myself? I'm going nowhere with this behavior of mine.