Sunday Dad called, and he asked me how I was. I told him fine and he nonetheless asked me if I was depressed, and if yes, why.
We talked for a while and I had to admit that yes, I was down. And I couldn't tell why. I told him about all the ideas I had. I told him about Steve Pavlina and Income Opportunities. Value creation and art. I told him about Traidis again, how it has a frenetic fandom without being written yet. That I am sure it would succeed, that I am sure that *I* would succeed, in so many ways. And then I said:
"But I don't. I just don't do it. And I don't know why."
I was too exhausted to cry at that point. Life like it should be seemed just to be an inch away, absolutely ready to be grasped.
I told him about all the things I had already conquered. Lazyness. Chaos. Lies. Self-doubts.
He was silent for a moment, and then he pondered, slowly:
"Maybe it's not you. Maybe it's deeper. Maybe you watched me try and fail too often."
And he had, hadn't he. Tried to found a computer software business in the early 90ies (and wouldn't that been great). Tried to sell lectures about Brain Jogging five years ago (and didn't the audience dig it like crazy!). Tried and tried and tried and tried and failed every single time.
Even in other, non monetary aspects of life. He tried to go out more, save money, eat healthier, do more sports. Save his little daughter. Get what he is entitled to get.
And he failed. None of those failures where his fault. But he still failed.
Maybe I concentrated on the motherside of my family for too long. I inherited their: "We lie." And I overcame it, though I'll never be able to stop watching myself very carefully.
Maybe I inherited something from my fathers side too: "We fail."
After that talk I listened hard for anything in my subconscious either nodding to it or squirming for it wasn't quite the point. But it was. Everything in me hung it's head in shame and admitted: I may *know* that I'll succeed. But I don't believe it. I don't *feel* it.
Self fulfilling prophecy: If you don't feel it, you'll fail.
Though I don't fear failure and I am quite able to survive it, when it's there, I don't exactly like it. So of course I don't bother if it's the only possible outcome I feel? Anyway, new idea, new possibilities, new challenge.
So my monday started fresh and bright. I got up early, ran, worked, met friends, swam in the evening and came home happy and satisfied. And then I fell into a very old behaviour pattern that I couldn't shake off and had to admit that I would have to get rid of that, too.

I believe I'll fail and I am addicted to a damaging behaviour pattern.
Well. One never stops learning, right?
So how do you shake off an addiction, and how do you start believing in success? I have no idea. But I can't stay sad when every tree blooms and every bird sings. I can't feel sorry for myself when she smiles at me like that. I can't dislike me when they love me so. I can't not believe in my talent when they all get so excited about the new roleplay I'll lead.
On my way back through the early night from a very nice evening with friends I pondered my ideas on how to earn money. I looked out of the window of the train, not really seeing anything, you know how that's like. My ideas were scattered, not really thought through, and felt completely absurd in parts.
And then the train stopped suddenly, somewhere between here and there, somewhere it usually doesn't stop. It stood for a while and right in the direction of my gaze there was a glowing sign slowly coming into focus, with big, bold letters, at a fuel station of all places. It said:

I had to blink a few times but it was still there. Seems like the city talks to me again. Since it is way older than I am, ancient, really, maybe I should listen.


I really need to start translating entries, again. I will, soon, promise.