Your entire life has to fit in two suitcases. Everything else is either not important or unnecessary.

Let's see how this holds out.

TL;DR.

Been absolutely rekt moving, spending more time on someone else's couch or bed that at my (new) bed. Normal programming should return in September. Now, back to Neon Genesis Evangelion.

The Monastery

"--to live alone".

I always said to myself that I keep myself busy, because the day I am not, I won't be able to withstand my own thoughts. Well, I guess I am alone with the wolf in the room.

There's a huge emotional, mental (and well, economical) change when, after living years on your own, you come back to where you started. You're older. You developed habits that suddenly you have to change. Old gripes, old niceties; the good and the bad, they all convey onto a single feeling: living in a monastery.

Or, maybe, going into rehab.

Capitalism rehab.

Everything counts in large amounts

I had an addiction to plastic money. It hid the now wide open black hole I had in my heart of following a path I hated. And I couldn't stop earlier cause I was enabled by my circle. We used to joke that the one with the more black credit cards win. Of course, they had cash. I didn't. Living on your own is expensive, but not so much if you have someone to lend you money.

I am what you'd call the early-Zoomer gen. And we either have to live with our parents and be comfortable but lack any semblance of personality; or live on our own and be miserable. I wanted, so bad, to live on my own, and also live comfortably... without having the means to do so.

I admit defeat. And even if time and time again I've found out ways to get out debt... this time I just want everything to crash and burn. Means losing all privileges of plastic money, "private" banking... but I never had money to begin with. So, big lol.

Now I am back to before college, when I saved up and worked to do things; not buy and then figure out how to pay for them later. And I damn wish it stays so for the rest of my life.

The institution

"(monasteries are) religious communities"

I ran away from home as a way to say: I am sick of your shit, I am sick of being treated as a children whilst being 23 (at the time, and having lived abroad on my own before), and fuck it I'm out. It was 2020-2021. What a wonderful time to become independent.

I wanted to come out of the closet, escape from the religiousness of my parents; but just did it out of whim. It was stupid. But I managed to survive long enough to not only finish my studies, but find a damn good job. My mum said it, even now, that she's in awe that I even took that decision, and stuck to it. She'd never do it and she respects me big time for that. Just like his dad ran out of the countryside to become a coal miner at 18.

At my grandpa's funeral, 2 days after my bday last year, found out a video where he said I was his favourite grandson cause we shared the same story. Both ran away with nothing, but survived long enough to tell the tale. And the independence is, apparently, cripplingly genetic. To a fault. To his last days he was, being 85% blind and 88+ years old, on top of a tree cutting branches off.

The fault here is that we stuck to our own religions, blind to reason and facts. The fact was that not only my parents were blind to diversity, but also that I was blind to reality. I did not speak to them in more than a year, they experimented much harder reality checks that they did not have their children for a given, that they ain't right just because they're (our) parents.

And I was blind to the reality that independence comes at a cost that, at some point, becomes unbearable.

It was either the marble prison with a fantastic view (where I was living, and I kid you not, in conditions 95% close to house arrest); or going into rehab with my family, and have to relive and fix some wounds left open.

And this is where I learned about the two suitcase rule.