Don't ask.

This note is provided to you by the Second, Underdeveloped Personality of Mucias, which takes over the steering wheel, when he drowns in the superior feeling of hopelessness. Which is about now. Yesterday's night was awful, really infernal. After a quite amusing movie night at friend's place and delivering a package of special importance to her apartament, everything went down. I was tired, sleepy, but still conscious, nevertheless not willing to go home nor drive fast down Puławska street, as usual, nor doing anything. Just sitting out of any thought with a slight push on the gas pedal I was rolling north, not caring about trucks overtaking me, neither bakery vans, blinking their brights at me to have me gtfo. I was observing the little screen on my dashboard, telling me how much fuel I was using and trying not to reach 6 litres for 100 km. That enabled me, on average, to drive 60 km/h, which could truly piss other drivers off. But I didn't care. That situation reminded me of Dexter, letting his Dark Passenger drive him, whilst he relaxed comfortably on the back seat. That was about my case this night. Suddenly I desired to try another way home and learn at last how to get to the Siekierkowski bridge from Puławska, so I turned right and started heading east, not really caring if I was driving right way or wrong way. It turned out that my orientation was not so bad, at the end, and I reached my beloved Trasa Siekierkowska, which is a satan's child in the womb of Warsaw's infrastructure, as it appeared, in my perception, out of nowhere and when I was not looking. But it's just my personal feeling about it. Actually it's probably very useful if you want to get from Ursynów to Wawer without fucking around on Puławska and environs. Whatever. I have a feeling of anxiety everytime I'm driving it.
Then, around 3 am, I returned home, succeeding in not alarming my parents. But then the worst part started. I couldn't fall asleep and very unpleasant thoughts about my life felt invited for a cup of dismay. In their companionship I spent a few hours, wondering if it all made sense, my projects for future, my feelings, my capabilities, my desires and... no, really, were those desires specified? Do I actually know what I want? Why am I wrestling with this problem for so long? Nothing, I mean, nothing is easy, when you are not convinced about your emotions. How do you call that state, when you're 19 and feel like an old goat? Can't think of it, but that's how I felt.

I should probably cut this crap and start doing my stuff. My first undertendant is waking up and he's going to take care about it. My session is getting closer and closer, I should face it as an equal opponent, not a headsman. But all this emo stuff makes me wanna go somewhere far away and cut all my contacts with people. And take a cat with me. I really want to have a cat.