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It's slowly becoming cold. 14th september, a date that should have been colder than it is now, yet I understand it, it's pressured by summer and global warming to not be like its usual self. And now I'm wondering if I'm feeling the same as 14th september. It's not like philosophy is hard for me like chemistry and biology was, it's just the uncertainty. The uncertainty of the unknown. And as a writer, I know I should have started writing about something specifically, to aim and hit the goal and the point I want to make in this post, but what if... What if I don't want to make any point? What if I don't want to make it because it doesn't exist? What if I hate myself and my life and I just want to disappear because it has no point? What if it has no point because I finally realized I'm surrounded by wrong people? What if, if I finally escape their presence, I'd be surrounded by similar people, and there's no escape?
I know I'm being nihilistic now, but I just cannot function like this anymore. I have no tolerance for others. I'm a stray, and for strays life makes no sense. I cannot do anything others expect or demand from me, and I will stay by that phrase and defend it, but I also wish to hide from all the judgement and hurt I've recieved for being disobedient. They do not understand that disobedience is rebellion, and rebellion is living authentically, to your own wishes and terms, and beng authentic requires being unapologetic, and being unapologetic requires... well... getting hit in the stomach for barking because you feel threatened. Like a stray dog.
I don't want to paint myself a victim, a survivor or something you should pity. I don't want to be ordered, and I also don't want to be pitied. However, compassion is welcome, because I need that more than I would need judgement. I know that I should pray right now instead of writing this non-sense, as an orthodox christian, but how do I call where I live a home if nobody touches the holy prayer book? And nobody here is truly a christian, including me. Now, I'd ask God to forgive me if I've said something wrong, but it's true, these are my feelings. And after I finish writing this, I will read that book, I will cross myself and then open it. I never even knew if I'm allowed to touch it. But I've already did, when it fell 2 times, one time in 2023 from the shelf, and just recently... on the shelf.
I wish to gain some peace, but here... It is impossible. And it's impossible to live like a stray with your family without painting them as archetypes, because they contradict themselves and have twisted sense of love... When my father says I'm his flesh, he means of possession, not of love, as he thinks. They are blinded. And I don't want to just point fingers (which I'm clearly doing), but I also have saved that naivety inside me, that little small spark of hope that maybe.... Maybe I could fix our relationship through assertive communication, maybe I can tolerate them more, maybe I could not cut them completely off when I leave, and visit them occassionally.... Maybe God may give them peace and common sense of healthy, rational mind and help them change.
However, my stray self tells me to escape as fast as possible. Because it notices that, if I continue to act like the strong, understanding person, I will end up exploding and demolishing the whole house. And those explosions happen constantly in my mind. Fictional scenarios of me snapping, telling everything I've hid from them in their face, them hurting me physically and disowning me, and me running away in the end. Every single scenario goes like that, and I store it into "hypervigilant/anxious visions". And all of that is one big anxiety problem, mental illness. I'm too afraid to do anything because I'm scared of the consequences. Frequent questions, that are scaring me more than these scenarios, go through my head after an explosion: "What will you do after you run away?" "How will you manage? Who will you depend on financially?" "Will you become homeless? Will you become a stray again, but in literal sense?"
Same kind of questions are appearing when I think of moving out in the university city where I'll study, they are just tailored differently for this situation. "How will you manage? Will you really follow the new routine?" "Do you really think this new enviroment will be better than the current one? Do you really think something perfect in this fallen world exist, and that's a new enviroment?" "Who will you depend on emotionally? You don't have any money for a therapist." "How will you read books? You have not read any, and given the routine, how will you manage not to drop out?"
I just don't feel like continuing writing this text because it throws me again into, what you'd call "overthinking", and it makes me uncomfortable. It's hard when you want to describe what's going on in your head, and then you have to explain what has your inner bully been telling you all this time. And that bully is constructed of all voices that have hurt me before. But I wish to post this, I wish to cry out as many times as I can, because I don't know what else to do, nor am I able anymore. I've come to the state to yell for help, and when I get the help, I see it as a threat, and that's called the paradox of a stray.
Such paradox is made when a child has parents who are obsessed with politics, and they had the same parents as well. Their child either gets consumed by their parents' values and beliefs, or it somehow gains free will (like I did... for some damned reason) and the whole childhood for them feels off. And the thing that feels off the most is.. well--- lack of familiarity. The child learns different values and beliefs, and they slowly notice their parents' aren't quite normal or familiar, which would align with the child's learned beliefs and values. And the child becomes alienated, they recognize that feeling and finally get to name it, and they name it by characterizing their parents as bad people or some specific archetypes, and the generalization is inevitable, because parents are the most closest unit of experience with people. After the feeling gets the name, the child recognizes loneliness as well, and realizes they have never had home, nor belonged anywhere, nor had some sort of familiarity.
And the child, who becomes an adult (like I am 20 right now), gains the status of a stray. The strays function on survival. Since they had to deal with strange family they lived with, they developed strong defense mechanism, and such mechanism allowed them to create a safe space for them (like i am pursuing philosophy and writing longform posts on substack), where they'd feel like themselves, with no judgement, no failure, no blame, no hurt. However, such defense mechanism has its bad side as well. It is the fact that their defense mechanism sees everyone as strange, because every stranger is unfamiliar. Even if a stray has given a chance to others in acceptable enviroments, they'd still have that feeling of loneliness lingering, and it'd be nobody's fault. The stray would crave more than just one corner of safe space, and that'd lead to searching and expecting a perfect enviroment. And as the stray search for help, they also deny it, because of stray's nature.
Now, it may seem like I've written about mythological being, while I was writing about a real psychological state, that relates only to myself. But it's because I have no other way to word it, no other tools, it's the only familiar way for me to address this problem. I'd also mention that strays like me dislike unsolicited advices and immediate solutions, because they feel controlled and they crave freedom and independency, even if, at the same time, they also crave just to be understood and to be dependent on other's feedback (validation), because they had no one to trust and depend on.
Now I would like to write about another problem related to the stray paradox, but I don't know how to connect it, and I want this post to be more complex than just complaining about my existence. Maybe I can start by naming the problem, even though it feels like a fog that I barely understand. Because of this misunderstanding, I panic, first I feel frustrated, like when e.g. you finally finish a math problem and in the end your result is incorrect and you don't know where you went wrong. After the frustration comes the inability to understand, the inability to squirm from the grip of the giant fist that holds me in place, because I cannot run away from the problem forever. And then I'm all crushed by the squeeze and I start to cry.
But that's what it's like to be a philosopher, right? Living in constant tension with yourself and the world, because you are too aware, and wanting to turn off awareness is a death wish. And precisely because I want to be aware, I am writing this text, not only out of self-pity and a cry for help. First of all, I want to understand myself in order to understand others. So I'm going to try to name that other problem related to the stray syndrome that I have. Starting with my naming, that is. characterization of my parents.
I honestly feel guilty for doing this. I don't feel guilty because I'm doing something wrong, but because I feel like I'm calling my own parents mean and derogatory names. Although I feel lonely next to them because of their different attitude and lifestyle, they still decided not to put me in a container as a baby, or in an orphanage. That is why I am very worried about what they will think of me when I tell them that I am not a nationalist, a racist, that I support the lgbtqa+ community, that national genes and state borders mean nothing to me, that I, as a Christian, respect other people's religions, that I would like to explore other people's cultures, no matter how bizarre they seem. That I am an anarcho-communist, no matter how much they associate communism with totalitarianism, absolutism and dictatorship, because the people of those ideologies called themselves communists and socialists and simulated Karl Marx. So that I would be able to boycott my job for the sake of destroying capitalism, consumerism and materialism in which they have deeply cocooned themselves, and which is deeply normalized and permeated even through relationships (because whoever succumbs to capitalism sees others as possessions and tools, not free beings).
But, as my stray heart says, I cannot be silent and suffer. To solve a problem, we must first notice that something is wrong, and then name what is wrong. In this case, I start with what I already know, "Parents are to blame", but what if they are just the connection between me and the system? What if they just found themselves in that system that turned them into shells that possessed the spirit of that system? What if they think they are right because experience has taught them so, and their experience contains the pain the system has inflicted on them? What if they don't know how to solve their problem because they just focused on surviving and not writing epics like I'm doing right now?
And again, I dehumanize them, I recharacterize them, although I don't want to shift the blame to them, I shift the blame to a system that normalizes and allows and does not question. Now how do I solve this? I can't just move from the known to the unknown, but I can gradually move toward the heart of the problem by eliminating what I'm doing right now and switching to something else, less closely related.
Here's how I'm going to solve the dehumanization of my parents, but keep the blame on the system. They are human beings, they are complex and therefore they need time to understand. They already see that something is wrong with this world, I think primarily because they hate the current government in Serbia. But the problem I have with them is that they don't work on it, but normally they won't work on it because they primarily focus on survival and therefore don't have time to work on themselves, let alone on their world view. And how can I explain to them why they raised me badly? It can't go without them disowning me because only some ungrateful brat would say that to their face. Do you understand what I mean?
To be continued…
posted on substack on september in 2025
I know I'm being nihilistic now, but I just cannot function like this anymore. I have no tolerance for others. I'm a stray, and for strays life makes no sense. I cannot do anything others expect or demand from me, and I will stay by that phrase and defend it, but I also wish to hide from all the judgement and hurt I've recieved for being disobedient. They do not understand that disobedience is rebellion, and rebellion is living authentically, to your own wishes and terms, and beng authentic requires being unapologetic, and being unapologetic requires... well... getting hit in the stomach for barking because you feel threatened. Like a stray dog.
I don't want to paint myself a victim, a survivor or something you should pity. I don't want to be ordered, and I also don't want to be pitied. However, compassion is welcome, because I need that more than I would need judgement. I know that I should pray right now instead of writing this non-sense, as an orthodox christian, but how do I call where I live a home if nobody touches the holy prayer book? And nobody here is truly a christian, including me. Now, I'd ask God to forgive me if I've said something wrong, but it's true, these are my feelings. And after I finish writing this, I will read that book, I will cross myself and then open it. I never even knew if I'm allowed to touch it. But I've already did, when it fell 2 times, one time in 2023 from the shelf, and just recently... on the shelf.
I wish to gain some peace, but here... It is impossible. And it's impossible to live like a stray with your family without painting them as archetypes, because they contradict themselves and have twisted sense of love... When my father says I'm his flesh, he means of possession, not of love, as he thinks. They are blinded. And I don't want to just point fingers (which I'm clearly doing), but I also have saved that naivety inside me, that little small spark of hope that maybe.... Maybe I could fix our relationship through assertive communication, maybe I can tolerate them more, maybe I could not cut them completely off when I leave, and visit them occassionally.... Maybe God may give them peace and common sense of healthy, rational mind and help them change.
However, my stray self tells me to escape as fast as possible. Because it notices that, if I continue to act like the strong, understanding person, I will end up exploding and demolishing the whole house. And those explosions happen constantly in my mind. Fictional scenarios of me snapping, telling everything I've hid from them in their face, them hurting me physically and disowning me, and me running away in the end. Every single scenario goes like that, and I store it into "hypervigilant/anxious visions". And all of that is one big anxiety problem, mental illness. I'm too afraid to do anything because I'm scared of the consequences. Frequent questions, that are scaring me more than these scenarios, go through my head after an explosion: "What will you do after you run away?" "How will you manage? Who will you depend on financially?" "Will you become homeless? Will you become a stray again, but in literal sense?"
Same kind of questions are appearing when I think of moving out in the university city where I'll study, they are just tailored differently for this situation. "How will you manage? Will you really follow the new routine?" "Do you really think this new enviroment will be better than the current one? Do you really think something perfect in this fallen world exist, and that's a new enviroment?" "Who will you depend on emotionally? You don't have any money for a therapist." "How will you read books? You have not read any, and given the routine, how will you manage not to drop out?"
I just don't feel like continuing writing this text because it throws me again into, what you'd call "overthinking", and it makes me uncomfortable. It's hard when you want to describe what's going on in your head, and then you have to explain what has your inner bully been telling you all this time. And that bully is constructed of all voices that have hurt me before. But I wish to post this, I wish to cry out as many times as I can, because I don't know what else to do, nor am I able anymore. I've come to the state to yell for help, and when I get the help, I see it as a threat, and that's called the paradox of a stray.
Such paradox is made when a child has parents who are obsessed with politics, and they had the same parents as well. Their child either gets consumed by their parents' values and beliefs, or it somehow gains free will (like I did... for some damned reason) and the whole childhood for them feels off. And the thing that feels off the most is.. well--- lack of familiarity. The child learns different values and beliefs, and they slowly notice their parents' aren't quite normal or familiar, which would align with the child's learned beliefs and values. And the child becomes alienated, they recognize that feeling and finally get to name it, and they name it by characterizing their parents as bad people or some specific archetypes, and the generalization is inevitable, because parents are the most closest unit of experience with people. After the feeling gets the name, the child recognizes loneliness as well, and realizes they have never had home, nor belonged anywhere, nor had some sort of familiarity.
And the child, who becomes an adult (like I am 20 right now), gains the status of a stray. The strays function on survival. Since they had to deal with strange family they lived with, they developed strong defense mechanism, and such mechanism allowed them to create a safe space for them (like i am pursuing philosophy and writing longform posts on substack), where they'd feel like themselves, with no judgement, no failure, no blame, no hurt. However, such defense mechanism has its bad side as well. It is the fact that their defense mechanism sees everyone as strange, because every stranger is unfamiliar. Even if a stray has given a chance to others in acceptable enviroments, they'd still have that feeling of loneliness lingering, and it'd be nobody's fault. The stray would crave more than just one corner of safe space, and that'd lead to searching and expecting a perfect enviroment. And as the stray search for help, they also deny it, because of stray's nature.
Now, it may seem like I've written about mythological being, while I was writing about a real psychological state, that relates only to myself. But it's because I have no other way to word it, no other tools, it's the only familiar way for me to address this problem. I'd also mention that strays like me dislike unsolicited advices and immediate solutions, because they feel controlled and they crave freedom and independency, even if, at the same time, they also crave just to be understood and to be dependent on other's feedback (validation), because they had no one to trust and depend on.
Now I would like to write about another problem related to the stray paradox, but I don't know how to connect it, and I want this post to be more complex than just complaining about my existence. Maybe I can start by naming the problem, even though it feels like a fog that I barely understand. Because of this misunderstanding, I panic, first I feel frustrated, like when e.g. you finally finish a math problem and in the end your result is incorrect and you don't know where you went wrong. After the frustration comes the inability to understand, the inability to squirm from the grip of the giant fist that holds me in place, because I cannot run away from the problem forever. And then I'm all crushed by the squeeze and I start to cry.
But that's what it's like to be a philosopher, right? Living in constant tension with yourself and the world, because you are too aware, and wanting to turn off awareness is a death wish. And precisely because I want to be aware, I am writing this text, not only out of self-pity and a cry for help. First of all, I want to understand myself in order to understand others. So I'm going to try to name that other problem related to the stray syndrome that I have. Starting with my naming, that is. characterization of my parents.
I honestly feel guilty for doing this. I don't feel guilty because I'm doing something wrong, but because I feel like I'm calling my own parents mean and derogatory names. Although I feel lonely next to them because of their different attitude and lifestyle, they still decided not to put me in a container as a baby, or in an orphanage. That is why I am very worried about what they will think of me when I tell them that I am not a nationalist, a racist, that I support the lgbtqa+ community, that national genes and state borders mean nothing to me, that I, as a Christian, respect other people's religions, that I would like to explore other people's cultures, no matter how bizarre they seem. That I am an anarcho-communist, no matter how much they associate communism with totalitarianism, absolutism and dictatorship, because the people of those ideologies called themselves communists and socialists and simulated Karl Marx. So that I would be able to boycott my job for the sake of destroying capitalism, consumerism and materialism in which they have deeply cocooned themselves, and which is deeply normalized and permeated even through relationships (because whoever succumbs to capitalism sees others as possessions and tools, not free beings).
But, as my stray heart says, I cannot be silent and suffer. To solve a problem, we must first notice that something is wrong, and then name what is wrong. In this case, I start with what I already know, "Parents are to blame", but what if they are just the connection between me and the system? What if they just found themselves in that system that turned them into shells that possessed the spirit of that system? What if they think they are right because experience has taught them so, and their experience contains the pain the system has inflicted on them? What if they don't know how to solve their problem because they just focused on surviving and not writing epics like I'm doing right now?
And again, I dehumanize them, I recharacterize them, although I don't want to shift the blame to them, I shift the blame to a system that normalizes and allows and does not question. Now how do I solve this? I can't just move from the known to the unknown, but I can gradually move toward the heart of the problem by eliminating what I'm doing right now and switching to something else, less closely related.
Here's how I'm going to solve the dehumanization of my parents, but keep the blame on the system. They are human beings, they are complex and therefore they need time to understand. They already see that something is wrong with this world, I think primarily because they hate the current government in Serbia. But the problem I have with them is that they don't work on it, but normally they won't work on it because they primarily focus on survival and therefore don't have time to work on themselves, let alone on their world view. And how can I explain to them why they raised me badly? It can't go without them disowning me because only some ungrateful brat would say that to their face. Do you understand what I mean?
To be continued…
posted on substack on september in 2025
