Suicidal in Heaven – A Journey of Choices

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13

XIII

My whole life, or at least the life I remember, had been a life of suffering. I’ve probably had a happy childhood, but childhood isn’t life. It’s a time I don’t remember, and a period you’re not exactly a human being. There are no obligations, no worries, nothing. All that happens to you is irrelevant in a greater, worldwide context. Life begins after, to use a moronic expression, the teen years: when you complete 20 years old. Actually, a little before, but I prefer to mention the 20 to make a pun with the teenage period…

And that changes, because it’s about that age you go to college and most people I’ve met (usually in the same social strata my parents put me into) began, also, to work. Life begins when work begins. It’s when worries start being real, when your decisions and actions no longer affect just you. In work, even an internship, a mistake is a great deal, because it reflects on many people. A mistake can affect a whole company, which is much worse than forgetting about doing your homework.

Homework, man, I’m really old. I think a mistake nowadays would be not going to class without a cellphone to take pictures of the black board. Or are blackboards also old?

I went to college, chose a major because I like to write. It soon became clear that writing has many sides, and I had chosen a line I didn’t quite like. I spent four years having to put up with something I didn’t like. Not only that, four years having to put up with the recollection that I had made a mistake, that I hadn’t been good enough to choose a major that would better serve my will and desire to write.

But I had given it a shot, even though I could see that it wasn’t what I wanted for my life, I tried to make it work. Found myself an internship, but couldn’t stand a whole month of it. It wasn’t just my fault, I had to go through a knee surgery during that period. Well, to say “I had to” it’s perhaps too strong. If had found the internship interesting, I would probably have delayed the operation, or, at least, tried to find a way to do both. But, then, I found another internship, only a month. I had to fill in for another intern who was on vacation, but it was also very boring. On the last day, I delivered some papers to my boss, and she asked me if I had already been there for a whole month and asked me if she could talk to me, because they felt I was a good employee. But we never had that conversation, because, at the end of the day, I left that place and never looked back.

I tried, maybe not as hard as I should, but I tried. And that explains why I found life such a disappointment, my own life had been a disappointment. From the moment I became an adult, I never found somewhere I fit in, never felt truly happy with my choices. I had a dream and pursued it. I failed, much because I believed I would, because I was always looking back, afraid of rejections. I never truly sank my teeth on anything, except solitude and sadness.

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