Zarathustra's Penthouse

It's not that deep

You make yourself in the dark. After you are born, you shine your light for everyone to see what you’ve become. Don’t let anyone see you fail. Don’t let anyone know what you’re cooking until the meal is prepared.

Because people are evil. People hate to see you shine. People want the worst for you. No one wants to see you doing better than them. Evil eye. People bring you negativity. People are literally the worst. They disturb your peace, they discourage you, they tell you you’re doing something wrong. People are the cause of your suffering.

Without people, you’re doing so much better.

Isolate. Be celibate. Do your self-care routine by seven in the evening. Sleep by nine. Wake up at five and go do whatever it is you want to succeed in. Yes. Consume only growth content. Growth. Prosperity. Abundance. Fuck that evil eye.

You enjoy your own company. No one is better than you for you. If someone has what you want, think about that all the time, all the time, until you figure out how they did it. You must become them—kill them, wear their skin and eyes and hair until you have none of the old, broken you left. Do this in the dark.

And you succeed. You get the money, the job, the visibility. The prosperity. Others admire you, but you never let them get too close still. They don’t know you. They weren’t there in the dark with you. They only see this shiny persona you’ve created for them to worship. They don’t know you.

People are evil.

Aren’t you? Are you protecting yourself from their evil or yours? Are you afraid of feeling too much?

You need everything to be good for you, even if it’s not. Romanticizing your pain is the way out. You see yourself from a third person POV, scribbling little notes at midnight, while every person you want to call is asleep. But you’ll make it. They’ll see. They’ll hate you. They’ll want to be you. But still, you won’t call them.

Then what?

Then they admire me-

Who is they?

The people that rooted for my downfall. The ones who traumatized me. The ones who wanted me to be as small as them.

Are they?

Are they what?

Small?

I- I think so.

Then why do you worry so much about them? You don’t care, right?

No. No, no I don’t. I just want to show them, I’m bigger than them.

Then why do you worry?

I don’t worry about them. I want the best for me.

The best for you is to become Zarathustra in a penthouse. Hermit mode. Mercury always in retrograde. Go inside, fill your own cup. You sure this isn’t because of the pandemic? Maybe you liked people more, once.

No fuck them, let them burn. There’s no point. Everyone leaves. Everyone hurts you. You better disappear; they don’t want you around. Just prove to them they were wrong to hurt you. Because that’s what people value right? Status, money, power. Everyone will like you then.

Do you like them? When’s the last time you enjoyed your life?

I do. I enjoy the little things in life. Like a cup of coffee in my backyard while scrolling, my job, my skin care routine. I love sleep.

When’s the last time you were manic?

That’s a mental illness.

Is it? When’s the last time you loved something so much you could think of nothing else? Couldn’t eat? Couldn’t sleep? When’s the last time you obsessed?

That’s not healthy.

Why does your brain have the ability to do it though? If it’s not healthy.

I am not my brain. I am separate. I tell my brain what to do.

You may not be your brain, but your brain is you. Why do you suppress every little whim you have?

It’s a matter of survival. You can’t work against the system. You need to be in it.

That system made of people you…hate? Don’t care about?

Look, the people don’t matter. I’m doing this for me.

This is what you truly want?

Yes.

Think back, when did you start wanting this? After your first heartbreak? After you went out into the world as an adult? After your parents told you to?

Does it matter? That’s what I want.

It doesn’t matter to me. It should to you though. How do you know you want the right thing for you?

Everybody wants this.

But if you hate them, why do you care about what they want? What do you want? Not because of everybody, but because you want it.

It doesn’t matter that they want what I want. I won’t cooperate with them. They’d only crush me because they want it for themselves. I must be the one who gets it in the end.

And if you don’t?

You’re giving me bad vibes. Why wouldn’t I get it?

Ugh, you’re impossible. I’m trying to make you understand who you are, you just won’t dig deep inside yourself. I thought you were isolating for growth, but how can a tree grow if its roots are short?

I’ve done my shadow work. I keep a journal. Why are you wasting time with me? Just leave me be. I don’t care about you, so why do you try so hard to make me see something I’m perfectly happy not knowing.

Because it’s not just you. It’s everyone. No one knows what they want, no one yearns, or craves. No one lives. I’m surrounded by walking zombies who chant “growth” all the damn time.

Then don’t be. Stop surrounding yourself with people.

How can I not? Everything I do depends on others. We live in a society. Everything depends on people. My success, my failures, my wants, my needs. I can’t just go to the woods…

Then limit contact. Fuck them. Be alone. Love yourself.

How’s that turning out for you?

I’m peaceful.

Peaceful or dead?

I just know that I’m not suffering.

But why is suffering undesirable?

Why would you want to suffer? Just enjoy the world, the way it is. You don’t need to change it, just work with what’s already there. If you don’t like it, ignore it. Learn to be alone.

I’ve been alone. You slowly start losing your grip on sanity until there is no separation of self from the world. We’re social animals. This is how humans evolved.

Well, maybe we’ve evolved to a point where we don’t need others anymore.

That’s bullshit. None of this would be possible without others, and you know it. You need to connect. That’s what’s healthy. Death is meant to be peaceful. Life is supposed to be dynamic, full of ups and downs. And yes, full of suffering so that the blessings hit the spot. Why do you like this clinical life, where every day is the same and nothing happens?

Take a look around. No one cares. You’re driving yourself insane because you just can’t love yourself can you?

If loving yourself means a self-cult, then I don’t even want to— Why are you laughing?

Okay, this is too much. I don’t have time for this and, frankly, you’re a little boring so please never talk to me again. I wish you the best. Love and light. It’s not that deep.