chapter 20 - gravity

22/5/2020: The black diary has changed color today. From mild grey, it turns into an explosive black, with light spots that shatter the eye, the eye that leads to words, and things to watch, my history. It seems that the last period of my life will now turn into another episode of about 15 years, with nice stories to tell and two more kids. The kids didn't say goodnight to me when they went to bed, so their mother won the game. Another failure in my life, the bubble bursting again, exploding into pieces, that, due to gravity, will become part of the ground. That will be where I have to regain the power to stand, with daily discipline, finding my balance in a field of forces and turbulation. Silence is required to conquer the noise, and stability to find my peace, to stay calm and be prepared to fight what comes on my way.

The silence must preferably be extended to facebook, even though I could not resist to create a bubble page under warrior. The simple reason for this apparently unavoidable break up is dominance and authorative behavior from my perhaps soon ex-wife. But we had an agreement that you would not spend more than hundred euro on books. And this month I already spend 180 according to her. 150 according to my calculations, but, indeed, I might be wrong. For now, it means distance, personal distance, mental distance, and physical distance. It is a bit unclear how to manage that in such a small house and a two-person bed, but still I do not doubt that she means it. For me it might mean an aggravation of social distance with the outside world. Well, we just have to see how I will deal with that. I told her that, to my mind, she acts too much as in following the scriptures. An agreement is not a strict law, but a guideline, and should be taken more liberal. But she is highly tense, and easily annoyed. I told her that it would be ironic if we would not survive the quarantine. I have been reading intensively, and indeed got carried away. But then again, if distance is needed, let there be distance. You may start the music. It is time to dance.

22/5/2020: To be honest, I feel sad. I deleted my post on facebook: think -- self art -- bubble, since nobody had given it a like. Earlier in the evening, I went out for a walk, when the girls returned from their walk. I enjoyed the walk, and even managed to run, for short stretches. It gave me back some of my energy, and the determination not to be a coward. What needs to come will come, and in these circumstances it is best to ignore the shit, and stick to my discipline,

23/5/2020: At least she took the effort to tell that she was leaving to teach qigong in the park. I am still in doubt whether I should take a positive look on our conflict, or just expect the worst. I guess both will be best. But, for the record, I did not sleep well last night, and even got up to smoke a sigaret. When she complained about the noise, I told her that I did not feel good. Where will we go from here? Patience,I told myself earlier, when I could not fall asleep.

For clarity, her authorative approach is unacceptable, and for such small amounts, that would block my reading if I would give into her demands, unreasonable! For this moment, slowly, with not much more than passive resistance, silence and solitude, I take it as part of my bubble project, the self as art. Step by step, and upside-down!

24/5/2020: The birthday of my first born son. I remember telling his mother, look I want to have a child. Children bring joy in the world, and they seem to be the only ones, as long as it lasts, childhood, I mean. As adults, they are usually boring, although my son is still OK.

Today, I remembered that I started this (black) diary, with as a subtitle, a story of choice. Incidentally, this coincides with my last post on facebook, yesterday. And today, another difficult day, in which I even confessed my tendency of depression towards my sister, the meaning of choice, that is being able to take decisions, became more and more relevant. The original subtitle was, a story of gravity, but I decided to change that, emphasizing my role as an active, autonomous agent, which is the more relevant as my wife grows more and more dominant and authorative. as well as irrational, emphasizing minor details and ignoring the overall context, and the need for individual freedom, and respect, I should add. I seem, nevertheless, to be relatively well prepared now, and with avoiding the risk of aggression and escalation, the story of choice can unfold itself.