Chapter 8: Vienna

I arrived at Vienna sometime in the morning with vague instructions on how to get to my camping place (a friend’s brother's apartment, some dude I'd never met).  The immediate scenario was a bit trickier than before cause I didn't speak German and I didn't quite know what I was going to do there.  It was intimidating to not have a plan and I also had a massive hangover resulting from the two nice Australian blokes I’d met at the Venice train station.  We drank a whole bottle of Grants while waiting for the train's departure, they were even kind enough to show me off to my cart with a full glass of scotch.  What can I say, I had a “gift” for getting fucked up even when I didn’t intend to.  

Most people probably would've said, “Last night was awesome!”  I just kept asking, “Why the fuck does this keep happening to me?”  It’s not that I usually didn’t enjoy company, or the free drinks.  It’s just that I was now beginning to suffer from my thoughtless actions.  I'd had enough of getting drunk for no reason.  I was agonised by my very existence, suffering without a visible cause. 

I don’t think I need to elaborate how bitter and emotionally fucked up I was at the moment.  Life was showing me something that I needed to see but I was too blind to accept what was being brought to light.  I kept reliving my past as an excuse to avoid my present emotional reality, it was an excuse to keep on suffering.  I kept trying to blame some exterior force for what was going on inside me but there was nothing left to blame.  Life was forcing me to change skin and I had become too attached to my ego in order to realize what was actually taking place.

…The perfection of the city around me was pissing me off.  There was no more chaos, no more people yelling nor cars honking.  Everything around me was so organized and spotless but I felt as if there was a vicious slaughterhouse inside me running on overtime.  I was walking as fast as I could with that fucking backpack on my back, trying to escape my thoughts.  It was frustrating, I wanted to throw it to the ground and kick the shit out of it.  

As if that would've solved anything...

I walked all over Vienna without finding my friends place and the turmoil inside began bombarding my mind with madness. I was beginning to picture myself beating someone up for no reason; I was loosing it.

All of the sudden, I ran into a couple of police officers and asked one of the for help.  He didn’t even look at me.  He walked right in front of me, as if I were a piece of dirt on the side of the road.  My entrails started boiling up with rage just thinking of the stupid and racist piece of shit he probably was when the other officer came by and spoke to me with the kindest of tones “What can I help you with young man?”  I showed him the address and he proceeded to point me in the right direction.

It was right there that it first hit me.  I was dead wrong about my thought process; who was I to judge that other cop?  Maybe the guy didn't even speak english and, even if he did, what on earth did I think made me so special in order to receive royalty treatment when I labeled others the way I did?  I did have a tendency to judge and classify people before even giving them the chance...  Why did I have to expect so much out of others, especially from that total strangers?  

I was obviously privileged with the education that I had, why did I keep getting so angry when others misbehaved around me?  It was painful to ask these questions.  They led me to think that all of the assumptions I had about the people I disliked were mistaken and that I was the one who was wrong.

This was a harsh concept to grasp.  It was so incredibly difficult to fathom that I was the greatest problem in my life that I couldn't keep my cool the whole time I was in Vienna.  

As I arrived at my friend's place the turbulence within got a bit settled but anxiety was still present in my being.  The thoughts that came to my head were still unpleasant, but I had now shifted all that anger towards myself.  Every time a bus passed by the street at a high speed I could picture myself jumping in front of it.  Even as I walked by the canal, I had to switch lanes and walk on the other side of the road for fear that I would jump in and drown myself.  I wanted to die in order to relieve myself from the mental agony I was experiencing for once and for all. My ego longed for the eternal rest like a junkie craves a fix.  And so, another type of darkness comes to light.

This wasn't the first time that I  got suicidal thought, but the impulse was a frighteningly viable reality this time. I was walking the tightrope over the pits of a tragic end...

I think that is one of the greatest misconceptions Christianity has led (or used to lead) its followers to believe; they profess that people who commit suicide are destined to an eternity of suffering in hell while failing to understand that those people are actually already there.  Death is scary, and suicide is the most anti-natural impulse in a living being. Just imagine how much pain a person must be going through to be able to take their own lives...

No one knows for sure what happens after this life and it's completely inhumane to condemn those who, for unknown reasons, end up taking their own lives but I'm pretty sure that there is a better way out of that hell.  Was I not so sure of it, this story would have ended long before it even started...

My ego was hurting badly and now I had no one to help make things right.  There was no Dr. Leo to calm my crazy mind, no priest to soothe my agonizing conscience, and no mother (nor drugs) to pamper that egotistical baby that didn't want to grow up.  It's curious how that works; if given enough power and emotional nurture (or pleasure) to form attachments, your protector becomes your jailor.  It's been humanity's everlasting existential battle but, I'm thinking, maybe it doesn't have to be this way.  Maybe we can change this.

I'm thinking of extending my travels and venturing into India, going further down this rabbit hole with the hopes of finding a clear answer to my problems.  It sounds a bit cliche, yeah, I know!  But I remember hearing my brother's tales about his two month travels through that ancient land.  For some reason, I had been thinking about it since I began traveling but I never saw it as a viable destination for this journey until now.  Maybe that's where this whole thing unravels and I'll get to find the answers I've been looking for.  Maybe that's where I'll find peace...

Ps.  I feel I must clarify that Vienna is actually a beautiful city full of culture and history.  The city seems like a vivid representation of order and perfection, and the museums are quite something!  It's curious how one's emotional state can make a wonderful place look like a shit hole in the archives of our memories...