Day by day, like a soldier crab, I carry the shell made of my beliefs, my worldview — some kind of filters, boundaries, as if this shell could protect me from something. Sometimes it seems to be not mine, but someone else’s, off-size, of an unfitting color, inflicted by circumstances or other people.
Looks like I’ve grown out of it, it feels tight, but instead of getting out, I just look for a bigger shell. To see less, hear less, feel less. I find salvation from reality in my narrow boundaries, can’t realize that I’ve trapped myself in that one-man cell that is always with me.
Out of the shell”. Day by day, like a soldier crab, I carry the shell made of my beliefs, my worldview — some kind of filters, boundaries, as if this shell could protect me from something. Sometimes it seems to be not mine, but someone else’s, off-size, of an unfitting color, inflicted by circumstances or other people. Looks like I’ve grown out of it, it feels tight, but instead of getting out, I just look for a bigger shell. To see less, hear less, feel less. I find salvation from reality in my narrow boundaries, can’t realize that I’ve trapped myself in that one-man cell that is always with me. Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“New mythology”. These myths don’t explain world crises and wars by any conspiracy theory, reptilians, or aliens. They do much more — they protect me from everything strange, from all things I don’t understand. Like a foil hat, they cover my mind from the pernicious influence of everything new, unfamiliar. They attach labels and do not let me even try to understand a different opinion. “It’s delusional. Folly. It shouldn’t be. It’s bullshit. This is nonsense, so unnatural. Don’t want to hear about it!” — these are glorious automatic answers for any occasion. Millions of negative reactions to millions of new opportunities. So, does that hat help? Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Why are you silent?” I think I’m always open, attentive, ready for dialogue. I’m convinced that nobody else can listen so well and respect other people’s opinions. But somehow my opponents are snobs or dull beggars. But there is no problem with me! Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Noise all around”. Social networks, news, messengers, and tonnes of messages. Pandemics, corruption, disasters, violations of somebody’s rights. Endless arguments, uncoverings, advertisements, spam, scandals. Sometimes I just want to stay alone with myself in peace and silence. And then… Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Third eye”. I think I understand someone, read his mind and see his ulterior motives. How often I judge before to ascertain the fairness of my decisions. Maybe it’s time to confess that I don’t have this superpower? Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Inner self”. Sometimes I ask myself about things I’d hardly dare to answer even inwardly, not to say out loud. To make it possible I need to overcome a barrier, a kind of internal censor, which decides on the matter of this question. But… Who is this censor? And why does he decide something for me? Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Brave new world”. I’m a self-sufficient adult. I’m able to decide what I need. Now I need to break the tension and play videogames a little bit. Just half an hour, to raise my dopamine levels. Oh, a new ability, I wanna try it out! Dude, I’m so close to the next level! What an exciting storyline, I want to know what’s next! Oh, looks like the game is over, but the reality is more boring. Maybe I’ll play just one more time? Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Illusion of choice”. I feel lost when I face a real choice. When I need to decide which option is the winning one, the least risky, the most useful, honest, and correct. Every choice is stress, because choice is responsibility, but the responsibility is always scary. It’s easier to set the situation to an “automatic” mode, when all alternatives (and agony of having to make a choice) fall away. For example, I want to do something, but my vacation is over, all tickets are sold, and I’ve grown up and stopped dreaming. I didn’t make this choice, it just happened but… Is it really so? Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Sales Pitch”. It’s hard to hold on. Beautiful clothes, expensive cars, fashionable cellphones, gadgets. An endless flow of things — glowy, span-new, and absolutely odd, useless. What for? What do I want to find at the bottom of my shopping bag — maybe myself? Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
“Million possibilities”. I live in times of amazing possibilities. Tonnes of books in the bookstores on any topic, hundreds of websites to study online. Today education doesn’t require a lot of time or money — all you need is to want to do something. Thank God, I know what I want. I just need to send some memes for my friend on Facebook. Damn, I almost forgot, it’s time for posting on Instagram. Oh, look, someone’s answered one of my stories! Wait, what was I going to read? Right, the news! Tyumen, Russia. July 2020.
