It is night. I have a dull head. But still. I read "1984" by George Orwell the other day and it's just amazing how similar my outlook on life are to what he describes in his book. The double-play of words, the fake wars, the understated hostility between civilians, the impossibility to express oneself at any moment. Even having to cover up what one writes on a little peace of paper, in danger of being "misfit". To put it in simple terms: George Orwell and I have made the same journey. Having the same sentiments. The discovery of being sexually, intellectually, emotionally, verbally repressed. (Among other things) The main point of the novel (The double-play of words) was my greatest discovery in south east asia a couple of years ago. When I realized that our common use of words is heavily distorted. That the words we use actually mean the opposite to what we think they mean and we are conditioned to accept the opposite meaning unconsciously. That means that when we think of happiness we are rather accepting unhappiness and when we think of death we actually think of life. Just as examples. It is the occult meaning of the words, not the things going on in the surface of the mind. But what do writings like these lead to? A nihilistic longing for death and closure? George Orwell describes this state of mind in the beginning of the novel. I think these kind of writings actually leads to a kind of death. A repressed will to escape this world comes to the surface and can reveal suicidal feelings and thoughts. It happens. But it's the start of a healing process. At least for me. Reading 1984 actually made me feel less lonely. Less empty. As I felt the feelings of the author and saw these things clearly in myself. The way out of depression is not to assume a state of happiness but to go deeper into the depression and reveal the emotions hidden within.
Leading to clarity.