u/chimpanzee_fanatic

still going strong (:

to anyone else out there trying, hang in there, i know its hard🫂

so, im about to start the last year of what is the german equivalent to high school and i want to lock in.

last year i didn't really study for anything up until the last moment and while that worked alright, i know i could do much better academically, so i would like someone to just hold me accountable by just checking in daily if i prepared for any upcoming school stuff.

i also want to keep to a healthy sleep cycle so having someone to tell me/with me to go to bed before 00:00 would be great.

last thing i want to do is consistently keep up reading. i read a lot a few years back but kinda got addicted to my phone, but this summer now ive been reading more again and i very much noticed how it improved my mood.

i can do all this (keeping you accountable) also for you if youre interested, we could also share studying experiences, sleeping tips, what we're reading, etc.

right i started reading Beneath the Wheel by Hermann Hesse, if that interests anyone

looking for someone in my age bracket, 18-21 would be great with similar goals (:

time zone is UTC+2, fluent in english and german

preferably discord/whatsapp texting for communication

The subtle desire to not be anything at all

I sat on a park bench on a dying summer afternoon. Darkening leaves colored the ground, and some small birds were still chirping the day away. A cigarette glimmered somberly between my fingertips. I never really liked the taste of smoke, but I always asked myself: if I had ever truly lived, hadn't I seen a sunset with a cigarette between my lips?

I believe I started smoking because of a Bob Dylan biopic I had seen with my mother when I had just turned 17, and Bobby seemed like the coolest guy in history. Kind of like my fascination with Che Guevara, I have always been caught up in an infatuation with dead or grunged-out warrior poets. They had seemed to have a reason to be.

When I read Che's letter to the peoples of the world, it gripped me deep inside that this man had been put on this earth to give hope to the downtrodden, even though he had died stinking and dirty in the Bolivian woods, his hands cut off by CIA agents and fascist militias. Had Jesus been reincarnated, I always believed it had been Che.

God, how I wanted to be Che. I even got his famous photograph tattooed on my underarm. Proudly, I showed it off in public even when it still hurt, for no reason but that I felt like a glimmer of the holy had anointed my skin, of a reason to be in this place, at this time.

However, soon I knew that I was not Che Guevara and I also was not Bobby. I was someone, but at times like this afternoon I felt like a spirit among the living, a mere sketch of what a human being was supposed to be like.

I tried being sociable; I tried dating; I tried every godforsaken avenue of life. I laid bare and naked my soul on everyone's doorstep who cared to listen. But never have I gotten anything from it, never have I gotten away from drunken nights with friends or flings with people I tried hard to love with all my chest.

Always again, I was spirited away and looking again at the ground, the cigarette, Che's disinterested yet passionately revolutionary visage on my underarm.

I did not want to go home yet. I had read all kinds of books about these supposed loners and schizoids who, just like me, couldn't lie down when the fear of being on their own gripped them in their sleep and ran away for hours, only to then meet the love of their life or a mentor or something. Hesse wrote a lot of these stories.

But somehow this never happened to me, and because of this I slowly started believing Hesse and Kafka and all of them maybe hadn't found that special someone either on a gloomy afternoon.

Maybe these romantics just wrote about what they wished had happened, because this is what they are, I think. Deep down, every writer is a romantic, reminiscing about things they never have had.

Because if you were loved, if you knew yourself, you hadn't had to write about it and show it off to the world.

I don't know how to feel about that.

I had always liked reading those stories, but when I tried to make something of them, I felt like a liar, because when I went out like a crazy devil in the middle of the night, the best I could expect was a lonesome beggar or junkie asking for "stuff" to come to me.

I haven't ever felt entitled to some white knight to come and drive my sorrow away. It's not like that. More so, I felt more and more disillusioned the more nights and afternoons I spent alone, waiting for nothing in particular to happen.

I think I waited for this something to happen since I have been about 14 years old.

I didn't know if it was foreboding of me to think that life had chosen me to be on my own at 18, but I had, in a sense, made peace with the fact that faceless people would enter and leave my life every now and again. Never was I too sad or happy to see them come or go, although in some small period between, I always felt like now it was my time to make it count, to make them stick with me to the end.

I guess when that happens to people, they don't have to fight for it.

My legs had fallen asleep as the slight yellowy tone of the sky had moved to a deep blue and dark night that had swept away all the leaves and rolled up the sidewalks.

At this time, I sometimes felt it was all too much. Not that it was much in particular, but the human condition, this all waiting for the shining sprinkle of good and holiness to enter our lives, felt all too depressing.

And when everything felt like it was too much to bear, I wanted to roll up and lie down.

I didn't want to die, really, I feel like, but the burden of living felt all too heavy on my chest then.

To be honest with you, I still sit on this park bench right now. I have written this right here in the past tense, because I feel like that is what I would have to say were I to die here.

I am not dead and I most likely will not be for a long time, but that part of me that cannot write stories about beautiful girls and knights in shining armor just subtly desires nothing more than to fall asleep about now.

I don't know if I would want to wake up again.

There still is a lot of life to see, I know that, I think, but just now I feel: is it worth the while?

I don't know if Che or Bobby have ever thought stuff like that. Bob's songs sometimes give me that vibe, but he's still alive and as well as you can be at that age, I think.

I would like to ask him if it was worth his while.

There's that story about a lot of Bob Dylan concerts, that often he turns away from the audience and doesn't even look at them while performing. My mom actually saw him do that live. She told me after we saw that film about him.

I always thought that he, in some way, hated his fans, and I thought I understood him well for that, that true art was this personal thing that you do for yourself, not to actually share, but to stare into as a steep reflection of your deepest, darkest self.

Now I wonder if that over-80-year-old man maybe, in those moments when the noisy crowds beg of him, feels what I feel. That maybe he asks himself if this is worth his while.

If maybe those romantics at these times also feel just the subtle desire to not be anything at all.

PS: English is only my second language, please excuse clunky idioms :|

I'm curious

So, I loved Demian. All the way through, its been the first book in a long time for me that I truly got something off of.

I think I will read it again in the not so distant future, since now I have read it more so on an "emotional level" if that makes sense, so I probably missed some of the more intricate themes and details, but the one thing that leaves me hanging right now is this;

I very much understand the general theme of the book. The path to finding oneself through everything, and I really enjoyed this thought and perspective Hesse paints.

However, as a queer person myself, I cannot get over the absurdly visible homoerotic/-romantic undertones of the book. I like Miss Eves character, but somehow she feels more like an addition to an already existing story, like a piece of what Hesse wants to portray through Sinclair and Demians relationship, that was exported from that to another character.

Onward from the seventh chapter, I felt like the story became a bit superficial. Not in the sense that it wasn't something in line with the books general theme and thesis, quite the opposite, but that the sort of "ménage à trois" that Hesse opens, sometimes I felt completely disregarding Demian up until the end, does not come natural to the literary flow in my reception.

Interestingly, I felt like the ending, which at first seemed a little rushed, actually cleared this up quite impressively. I believe that the suspense and narrative tension that is released by the kiss Demian and Sinclair share then, is not at all something that Demian merely acts as a vessel for Miss Eve for. One could say that it never really was about Miss Eve or any personage else for that matter in the first place, as she also only acts a waypoint for Sinclair to find himself, but I sort of think that the narrator himself contradicts that, by stating that physical and symbolic admiration for Eve eventually merge, so most definetly and explicitly physical and smybolic admiration. Tying into my reading of this, however, is that all of this for me felt all again very superficial; as if Miss Eve was not really acting in a manner that fits her well, as in a sexual object. In my interpretation, this is only resolved by not her but Demian being the one to give Sinclair that kiss.

All this to say, that after Miss Eve really being introduced, I felt as if the narrator had somehow lost an honesty that he previously alluded, as if, consciously or sub-consciously, Hesse was not ready or willing to write the story in the natural way he did the beginning and middle part.

Unfortunately, I had already spoiled myself the ending before completing the book, so I knew it wouldn't be a homoromantic ending in the first place. Still, I at multiple points thought about this while reading.

Most notably I believe Hesse alludes this explicitly not only romantic but also homoerotic narrative when Sinclair first meets Demian and speaks of his dreams of being abused by Kromer, but at some point him being replaced by Demian and him, Sinclair, then weirdly enjoying it. I read the book in German, so I don't know how the translation notes this, but in the german original, in this passage Sinclair speaks of more broadly "abuse" but also explicitly of "rape".

So, from the very beginning to the end there for me is a very clear at least sexual undertone Demian and Sinclairs relationship polludes. I think its probably harder to argue for the romantic aspect of my reading of this, but I believe at least what described now is very hard to refuse evidence for my interpretation. Maybe I will mark some points of reference for the romantic tension I also believe is presented on a future read.

Is this a common interpretation of Demian? Both my parents have read it when they were around my age now (18) but were both very surprised when I told them about my interpretation. Both of them never thought about Hesse more broadly as a somewhat gay adjacent author, whereas I have found these traces of what I would call alluded same-sex narratives in most of what I read by him up until now, best of which I can remember is Steppenwolf. So maybe its a generational thing? I know that many authors now regarded as classics lived in a time where very intense and explicitly loving man to man friendships were more common, Goethe and Schiller being the best example I think, but with Hesse I feel like this reaches a point where one can reasonably arrive at an interpretation like mine.

What do y'all think? I'd love to hear some thoughts on this

so its been one february since i last cut myself. i dont think im much at risk for relapsing.

it somehow did not help me cope anymore the last times. also i have a really big scar that i dont like at all and dont want more of the kind of lol

it is kind of weird not feeling the urge to cut even though i am going through some stuff again, like not so long ago i would definetly have done so but now i dont feel the urge to.

good luck to everyone else trying to get/stay clean, you can do it!🫂

and i dont want to go back

i feel like im finally really getting better

i hope maybe someone can resonate a bit with this/gain confidence

stay strong guys!!

she got dumped after moving on kinda quickly and we still wanted to be friends kinda but i was trying to heal so all that stuff.

i thought id maybe feel good when she got dumped eventually at some point but especially because the guy seemingly said kind of the same thing that she said to me back then, but im just sad. it makes me sad that she now is like i was back then. i know how much it hurt and i feel so bad knowing she hurts like that now.

i am so sad. especially since i feel like i moved on now i just want to hug her and tell her its going to be okay. like i know it gets better. but we grew so much apart that now i feel like were not at this level of friendship anymore. i hope maybe she sees that i got better and kinda knows from that that it will get better for her too. i still love her in a friendship way i think and it hurts so much to see her hurting because i know how shitty it is.

i dont know what to do and im just so sad

just wanted to share it with someone, feels like an eternity, which is kinda weird because ive been clean for longer. still success (:

ive been getting closer with some friends of mine and finally moving on from a pretty ugly breakup, seems like things are finally going up hill a bit

side note: i still carry my cutting utensils with me everywhere i go, anyone can relate to that? i feel like its kinda weird but it gives a sense of security to know that i could do it at every time bc i mainly use it as coping with depression, but ive never heard about ppl doing the same

i still somewhat love my ex. she was my best friend and genuinly is a great human being.

she didnt do anything wrong really, it just didnt work out in any way we tried, and thats the shittest part about it right now, i cant hate her, my mind even only remembers the good things and not the heartbreak.

i dont know if its delusional but i feel like it would be easier if she simply treated me badly. then i could hate her and be happy for her to be gone, but she didnt and i grieve this relationship really harshly.

i kinda wish i could just be angry but its just sadness about how it just couldnt work out.

i ask myself if it could have been different, if we couldve been friends, if i couldve held on to her in a healthy way, if i could have done anything to keep her in my life, but i dont think i could have.

it just was not meant to be. its not fine right now but i hope it will be eventually. she showed me how deeply i could care for someone and i am grateful for that. it just hurts like hell right now and i wish i could be angry and i wish i could simply find someone i loved in the way i do her but i know that will probably take a long time and thats just making me sad.

So, my relationship to this girl is very weird.

We met something over half a year ago and I pretty much immediatly asked her if she wanted something from me because I didn't want the whole situationship thingy all over again.

Long story short, we "situationshipped" for about two months and then decided to just be friends after about a month of no contact.

I still felt like I had feelings for the whole time we were pretty much best friends and it genuinly was the deepest relationship I ever had with anyone.

After a few months, I decided to open up the topic again and we decided to try again.

Again, didn't work and we went back to best friends for a bit after it was super awkward again.

The relationship we had was genuinly one of the worst times I've ever had since it was just a bunch of back and forth, so after the BU I was pretty content with it being over and being back to friends.

About a month ago, however, I felt like there was some purely physical tension so I decided to bring it up and low and behold she felt the same and for some time we were FWB.

However, it kinda felt like a relationship all over again and thats why she broke it off.

I of course accepted it but I truthfully didn't take it well because I really wanted it to work and I said some things I wasn't too proud of, which I apologized for.

After that, we were like well back to friends, I guess, but it was just so weird, so about 10 days ago I said I would like a contact break or something if we ever wanted to be friends again really, just because it was so weird, which she agreed to.

The last time we spoke I said, as I had before, that I was willing to go through this BU weirdness (which we had before) again, if it meant we could go back to normal eventually, which she replied something like "yup, lets see" to, which just gave me the vibe that that it was just all to weird for her anyway.

I've never been this close to anyone and we told each other that we loved each other on some plane like multiple times, that we wanted and needed each other (we both struggle with depression/SH) in our lifes, that we would move in together, etc. and I just overall really, really miss her.

I still don't know what exactly I feel for her but its some kind of love I haven't experienced for anyone else.

I've dreamt about her a lot and I think about the situation pretty much all day and its really heavy on me right now.

I wish we could just go back to being best friends, but after that "yup, lets see" I am just so unsure about if she wants that too anymore and also kinda hurt because it just makes me think if she really feels the same or at least similarily about me as I do about her.

She still likes my stories and insta posts for what its worth, but seeing her in person is just very weird, like we act normal but don't really talk besides hellos and goodbyes (we go to the same school btw, though we're both 18).

So 3h ago I broke NC, just a "hii". She hasn't responded yet and I just feel like an idiot.

In general, I always asked myself if she suffered like I did from when things were bad between us. After the second relationship BU she started talking about her ex and having feelings for her and stuff super soon and asked me point blank "am I an asshole?" and if I could call her an asshole, which just made me think "do you know how I feel right now?".

I know I've put myself through a lot of this stuff willingly, the fighting for it to work in some way, but I just want her in my life so much. I love her so much and even though I know thats stupid, it just took so long to find someone who I connected this much with and I am so afraid of completely losing that by my own stupidity and it again taking so long finding someone.

I don't even know what I want to talk about when she answers and I just feel like such an idiot because I said it would take like a month or mutiple months to try again and I lasted only 10 days.

I feel pathetic because I feel like she doesn't feel the same, not the bad things, not how much I need her.

I don't even know what I want by putting this rant here but maybe someone can relate

Thanks for reading if you did this turned out way longer than I wanted it to