the Life, the Love and the Sex of Vienna.

Existential Fear.

Last Night. 12.30 am. Honest thoughts of a mind that sometimes doubts. And is afraid. And can’t always keep composure.

It is half past midnight. I should sleep but I simply can’t. I am listening to Barbra Streisand’s song ‘They Way We Were’ from the same titled movie. I am afraid. Paralyzed with anxiety. I think I can’t handle it. I doubt. Myself and the whole project of moving out. I feel like a big black hole opened its gates beneath me trying to suck me into its nothingness.

Existential anxieties at the age of 25. Now that sounds great in applications. I am 25, single, with a job that might be secure but that can’t fulfill me for the next 25 years and an apartment that is not even half furnished but already cost me fortune that I don’t have anymore. Cash almost ran out and I wonder how I can make it through the next crucial months of showing everyone around me, all the doubters and haters, including me, that I CAN do it? All by myself? How can I prove myself right in front of everyone’s critical and opinionated eye, if I can’t even convince myself right now that I can make it through this stage of anxiety without the provisory Xanax every now and then?

Is this a temporary phase of thinking or will it continue once I am really all by myself? What can I do to get past it? To cross the line of self doubting before I vanish completely in the procedure of it? Where has the self conscious, independent and insufferable me gone? Where is the guy who promised himself to do it all by himself? Where the hell has he gone?

I doubt and I wish I could stop it. I hate doubting. I hate doubting myself.
Does doubting oneself automatically signify once lack of love for oneself? Am I right at the beginning of when I started to work on myself and abilities to love myself for who I am rather than who I can’t be? Where does it stop, this way of thinking? Where can I find myself again? Where has my courage gone?

Is this the point where I look into the mirror admitting myself that I’ve become the failure I’d never wanted to be? Where do I go from here? Where do I go? Where?




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