and there's nothing freeing about that

"(...) without rules we quickly become slaves to our passions - and there's nothing freeing about that."

I've just copied this from the most recent Jordan Peterson's book. But this sentence in specific belongs to Norman Doidge, the forward writer.

This blog is all about it. Vain pain. Tameless obsessions. This is the me I am endeavoring to kill right now. Having no control sucks. There is nothing pretty about self destructive passions. Nothing pretty about living a Fenix eagle life style. I am tired of rising to the sun to then, enjoy the heat for a couple of instants until, out of the blue, things begin to collapse again. I feel life slipping trough my fingers like sand.

And as I cross these valleys in my sinusoidal mood the idea of death sounds so compelling. I have to tell you that whenever you have such intense mood swings like I do the idea of death just never leaves you. Even in my best days I kind of know sorrow will comeback and suicide will always be a option in the menu. I can no longer get blind by a current state of mind. Hope has become a much more complex feeling. Joy as well has become a much more complex feeling. I can feel at the same time enormous joy without feeling hope at all, and that is something I tought impossible.

How can one feel happiness even knowing depression is about to come at any moment? It can be tomorrow. It can be in five minutes or less. How can one not stop smiling even when suicide ideas accidentally pop into head. Well, that's why I consider it some sort of superpower... with questionable practical use, but still a superpower.

But I know it will still take a very long time for me to lose all my energy and win over these fantastic self-preservation reflexes hardwired in my brain. 

Maybe I am lucky enough to survive for a lifetime. To be honest I have no quantitative intuition about how long I will bare life. What I do know is that in one month or so I will be in hell for a couple of months. I can smell my mood collapsing and watching it before my eyes is just frustrating.

By the way... I don't think I get the idea of Eternal Return. Or maybe if I happen to get it I can manage to bare life... I have reasons to believe this idea has reversible cause and effect relation.

I am killing the poet who wrote this blog. Or at least I am going to beat him so much he won't dare to stand up in vain again. I am doing all in self defense. 

At least one of us will have to dye.