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The Transformation 14: Clockwork Bomb


At the moment I work on two other posts, but as they’re more abstract I decided to write this short one in between to catch current developments.

The content of the posts of the The Transformation series can be divided into two categories. The first one includes those with key moments that were also turning points. This means that I may have altered assumptions, experienced new feelings or transcended in some other manner. The second category covers moments that fortify my beliefs and visions. This post can be sorted into the latter.

Another nature of the posts of the second category is that the thought process takes place while I write. You can associate it with an adventure where it’s not clear where the thoughts head and what will be seen on the way. Thus, the structure may be a bit confusing and the arguments not well backed up. The interesting part though is the road that was taken. In sum, this is┬ácomparable to some posts of the Thoughts, Facts And Moments series.

Clock Ticks Life Away (Fast)

Obviously, the caption is a platitude. The only interesting thought may be that if you reach your fertility the likelihood to generate offspring increases with each day. Then, the clock does not only tick your life away, but also brings another life closer into existence, too, on which this burden is layed upon on birth as well.

This reminds me of a video I recently saw where Ben Shapiro says that he commits his child to Judaism by circumsizing him. Then, to be a jew provides meaning in life which is actually a hard goal to achieve if you’re not religious.

I also mention this because if the natural will to survive declines other concepts like meaning can act as a substitute.

The Suffering Vs The Meaning

As I layed out in several posts, my life quality continous to drop. It reached a negative state again in the previous year after a short positive time frame of about two years.

I mentioned that I don’t see any horizons that I can head forward, too, and that only a divine intervention could save me. I came to this conclusion because I spend much time last year to improve myself, be more honest, open-minded, friendly and caring. My desperation from solitude continues to grow unfazed, nonetheless. My social activities have risen, I made important friends, but at the very end I miss love from a partner and it consumes my soul.

The pain now determines nearly any second in which I’m not occupied with something else. This has reached an absurd level, illustrated perfectly when I talk to friends and after I leave them I break down and cry.

In the past I have built a strong morale which could be seen as a substitute for meaning. To determine sth. as good or bad has given structure. While I haven’t been a missionary, the echo chamber in form of contacts with the same narrow mindset provided some sort of identity.

I shed off many of my fundamental opinions which expanded my world view. Unfortunately, with the loss of structure I now see that I don’t have any meaning for my life at all. Frankly, I don’t have anything to fight for.

I admit that I have to rethink again how important meaning in life actually is. Or, more precise, how powerful I think it can be for my own life. At least for now I can say that only the suffering prevails.

The Clockwork Bomb

A few days ago I came up with an ultimatum to myself. Either I’m capable or lucky to find a partner I can share and receive love by the end of the year or I’ll put an end to myself.

I thought this through from several perspectives. A few of the questions and answers were: am I entitled to claim to be loved? Yes. Do I receive the love necessary for myself? No. Am I convinced that I’m the problem in this game? Not any longer. So, is it the world can’t cope with? Yes.

Once again, I will systematically tackle some of my fears to climb out of my cowardness. But I also concatenate this with expectations.

In this sense, clock ticks life away very fast, like a clockwork bomb. I hope to be able to defuse it, but my fate lies not only within my hands.


Featured Image – By Fan D, via