I realized I had come to a dead-end. It seemed to me, as everyone out there was actually out there to get me. I knew the craziness of that, despite my emotions which I could no longer control the way I was used to. The superficiality, the banalities, the trivial aspects of everday life I could no longer endure. I knew people didn´t mean as much of what they spoke out loud, but it kept me awake at night. Longing for more consideration in people before they spoke. Hurt and ashamed, as I was, I fled. What was the real meaning? Why didn´t I get some clues. Why was everything I said a mere objection? I was well reflected enough to see, what I was doing by acting aggressively in my behaviour, especially towards people I admired or respected. It was a lot of self-loathing behind that. But soon I came to see, that I didn´t know what to do. I felt as if I was drifting in an entirely different world, than they were. But was it just dellusional? What was happening? Words seemed too much of a burden to speak to anyone, because they used them in the same way to speak their artificial crap, which made me so full of rage, that I had no way as how to conclude them (the words) to tell the serioussness of my thoughts and feelings. I didn´t want to be a spoilsport for anyone, just because I was acting strange and wasn´t even able to explain why, because it pained me so much. In my own, sort of arrogant way, at first, I thought that my way of everything was too unique. I couldn´t be bothered to say something, if I was not understood and taken care of in a proper way. I had too much pride in me, to see, when mistakes were made. I came to these conclusions long after my pride and my despite towards myself and others had ceased. Only years of contemplation and reflection, or of not thinking anything for long after I had thought, made me overcome my true self which I believed to have discovered, that I came back out, of the place where I had been, where many years before, an old map in an old diary had brought me. Back then, I left everyone, everything behind, I followed my fathers footsteps into a mouth of madness, of not knowing, what was waiting in this place, which could be seen as the other side of what we believe to know. But I came back out, and soon, mistakes were made, I was questioned and interrogated. I gave it all up, as I was weak, too weak. I should have stayed longer, strenghtened myself more, but in the end, I found myself not very much changed from what I had been many years before I found Saturn. And now I was crying, in my suffering, crying for the sake of Saturn, which was the only place, that truly understood me and had indeed taken care of me; The road was blocked now for me, I knew that, it was what made me suffer. My own weakness, to leave a paradise and go back to dreary old real life, to prove something which I could not before, and still couldn´t. I had given up, so it had given up on me. The magic was gone, I was back, and couldn´t handle a single second of it. Oh Saturn! What have I done?
R.M. Parkner, The Saturn
photography by j.m. thank you
