The Complicated Being Of One Who Chooses To Be Complicated: A Sebastian Blum Life Story

Sebastian Blum

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I feel like I’ve reached a very weird point in my life. I feel like I have also been saying that too often. It feels very true, though. Everyday I feel like a different person with different feelings towards something. One day, I might love a certain actor, or want to act in a certain way, but the next day, I hate that idea or I might completely forget about what I thought, and do something new. I understand that, that’s just me being a kid, constantly changing as a human being, but it feels more than that. It feels like I’m having some identity crisis, like I have some disease affecting my brain, but there is not cure.

 

I often watch movies as a way of coping with this sad, sad world. I only watch expertly made films. Maybe that’s the problem. I try to surround myself with perfection, while I, along with the world, is so imperfect. But, nonetheless, that is what I do. I sometimes listen to music too. But, the thing I do the most, is trying to find a sorts of idol, in which I can become. Just recently, I was idolising Daniel Day Lewis for his acting ability, and I was constantly imitating what he did in his movies. I researched him, I put up wallpapers on my phone and laptop. I even looked at his fashion, and wanted to copy it. Now, I’m over him. I’m now obsessing over Finn Wolfhard. For not particular reason, of course. Well, maybe it’s because he’s free spirited. But, I can’t help it. I need a something to latch onto, so that I can feel complete somehow.

 

I feel like I may be the weirdest person, anyone will ever meet in their life. Throughout my life, I have made friends with ease, and I have impacted many lives. A lot of my friends often tell me what I was the best thing in their life, when I was still at home. They say that they feel that me being gone, that there is something missing in the school. I wonder if, maybe I didn’t complete them, but they completed me. I mean, I would have been nothing without them. Or maybe it works both ways. Anyways, I was recently thinking of my old school, because my friends are now in the 11th grade, so that means they are considered as Seniors. That means, instead of wearing a blue shirt, they now wear white shirts. Just something as little as that, really made me sad. I wish I was there to be wearing that white shirt. To have waited many years to finally earn something that we all worked very hard to get. To just be there with them. Some days are rough. Some days, I feel like crying because I just want to hold them, but I can’t.

 

I’ve been listening to a lot of Lana Del Rey recently. Another phase that will probably disappear soon enough, but nice for now. I’m even listening one of her songs now, while writing this, “Beautiful People Beautiful Problems”. Lana, quite honestly, is just an angel. I mean, she’s absolutely beautiful, she has such a unique voice, and her personality is amazing. I think I might love her. How couldn’t you?

 

I don’t really know why or what my intention of this article was. Maybe it was a sort of desperate cry for attention, or just unnecessary info about the Australian kid, but I feel that it was kind of important to write this. I feel that we all reach a point in our lives, that we feel like we’re falling apart, and that’s okay, but we got to know when and how to put ourselves back together. It’s not impossible, and we don’t have to do it ourselves. But, I feel that I can’t be helped, until the day I finally go back home. I feel like a piece of my heart is still stuck over there, and that it weighs me down, but I can’t abandon it, like I did with my friends. The hardest part is that no one can understand what it’s like to lose everything to continue and have nothing. To have to see your step-dad once a week, to have a mum that cries all the time because she doesn’t know what to do. While I’m being weighed down by my past, my mum is being weighed down by the world around her. God, I miss my old life.

 

It has now been a couple days since I wrote the words you have read above, and I have reflected not only on this, but also on myself, and I will continue, no matter how monotonous, to further give you more of an understanding, or at least, an idea of my thinking, and how bizarre, often troubling, everything is for me.

 

My mum has just had a fight, an argument, on the phone, with my dad, Jeff. She often reminds him of how she is over everything, and how money is always an issue. He, although a calm man and often very patient, snapped, as he has done in the past, and said that maybe it would be best that we leave. This, of course, was just a “heat of the moment” comment, but something that troubled mum bad enough for her to sit on my bed and discuss it with me. She asked whether or not it would be, if at all possible, better for us to pack up and leave. In short, no, but in the long run, I rather think that maybe it would be better.

 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Jeff. I think he is a great guy and I am definitely happy to call him a dad. But, it is always the question if he is worth our suffering. For my mum and me, being here, for the one year that we have, has quite literally been something biblical, in the sense of being hellish. Though I have made some friends that I do indeed care about completely: Gaby, naming one, is someone who I would definitely go far and beyond for, but that can’t change what happens outside of school, or more, in this case, doesn’t happen. Little to nothing has happened with Jeff’s case. This is not to say if I had not made this clear enough or have left vague, that Jeff is not worth what we have done for him. It is not as if he some guy we have given our lives up for, but we too have our own needs, and he is, in fall fairness, in no position to help us due to his position.  

 

I truly believe that my purpose of coming here was not necessarily an act preordained by that of a spiritual being like that of God or a god, but that of myself. The purpose was an internal, yet very much spiritual, a choice, in which, without my knowledge, would lead to self-destruction. The point of my existence before I arrived here, was not one of true meaning, in that sense, meaning that I was to not serve a great purpose, but internally, I believe, no matter how abnormal it may sound, was just to exist. The very nature of me existing and loving life was my purpose, and while some may say that, that is not strange, but very normal, I beg to differ, but I won’t go fully into why I believe such a thing. I do believe, however, that my purpose here is, or at the very least, was, to suffer in order to come to a full understanding of my own being. To know that life, as much as I unintentionally wanted it to be, was indeed not perfect, and full of many hardships. I had not known what hardship was, though, some would say that hardship is necessary to be human, in the sense, to go through hard times, is to very much be human, but I believe that one can go through life without hardships, if they so choose to, though it is not always so simple. My very point of this is to elaborate what I see my existence at the very moment. It is something that was, in all honesty, was something that brought me light, but now, not at the fault of those around me, though some are to blame for pointless diversions, I am full of pointlessness. That is not to say that I am living a life that is not worth living, but a life that, at the very moment, serves no purpose other than to just be without being. Crazy to wrap one’s head around, I know, but just know that, no matter how convoluted that all seems, within it, is my truth.

 

I had recently written an article on how I found God, and though that is true, that I wrote the article, whether I found God, is another matter entirely. Like most who follow the idea of Christianity, the idea of believing in the one and only God, I have questioned it. The Bible even states, coming from Jesus, I believe, saying that one should never follow blindly. I have always taken that to heart, since I am, but have not always been, a man of science. To be a person who follows science so closely and holds it as a sort of truth, the truth that can give us a closer idea of why we are, it can be difficult to mix it with Christianity. Not to say that science and religion cannot mix, though they can, it is, very much difficult. It is not that I am really questioning, though, that is exactly what I am doing, I feel that I am more putting aside the idea of God, for now at least. I feel like, the place I am at now, as much as saving being such Christ would be great to look up to, like many do, I feel as if that it is the opposite of what I should do. I am not pushing away the idea of a possible being, that would be fairly foolish, I of course, do not mean to shun atheists, but I believe in believing that there could be more to life than we know. It can be, like again, to many others, very difficult to grasp the idea of a being that is much greater than we can ever imagine, and one who has the power to create, as if it is an author with no origin. If, not so much if, but when I die one day, I hope to be in someplace better than an endless void, but you never know. It scares me, the idea of just being nothing, to die and that’s it, I can’t, not matter how much I try, cannot imagine being nothing, to cease to have a life. The greatest mystery in life is not so much about life and creation, but more about death and how we can never truly know what happens. One could even argue that life, in itself is death, due to all of the pain and suffering, one can experience, and say that death is life, since it may be considered, being free from pain. It is a deep thought, but not one, that someone should ponder upon for absurd lengths of time, for it is to depressing.

 

I’m going to end this off on an abrupt note. As much as I would love to carry on discussing on the downsides of my life and of the bizarre outlooks that I have, I won’t. Just know, that who reads this, I am not depressed in any way, nor am I filled with great happiness. I choose to be this way, or I let myself be this way, then, if it is that case, you should feel neither pity nor guilt, and for why you would feel guilty is beyond me, but I have to make a point. Life, for me is indeed not as perfect as it once was, but this doesn’t mean my life is at an end, very much it is at the beginning, still forming, and I hope that it changes for the better. If not, well, I prefer to not think about it, but if that be the case, I guess I will have to hope for the best, as I have done for the past year.

 

We’re just beautiful people with beautiful problems.

 

“The world always makes the assumption that the exposure of an error is identical with the discovery of truth — that the error and truth are simply opposite. They are nothing of the sort. What the world turns to, when it is cured on one error, is usually simply another error, and maybe one worse than the first one.”

-H.L. Mencken

 

“Sarcasm: the last refuge of modest and chaste-souled people when the privacy of their soul is coarsely and intrusively invaded.”

-Fyodor Dostoevsky

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