Here in the present tense
Nothings making sense
Waiting for my moment to come
Everything’s come undone
I tried to pull it apart and put it back together
No point in living in my adolescent dreams
Inspired by true events on movie screens
I am a one man wrecking machine
-Guster
I'm having problems dealing with reality lately. Nothing seems real anymore. I can't except the fact that all that
there is is what I see and hear. Knowing that I am taking meds to help me be more normal, only makes me question
the fact that I question the facts.
I go outside and have a cigarrette on the porch, and look up at the stars.
Most of that reality is blocked from me because I'm living in a well lit city, but the few stars I can see suffice
to remind me of the vastness of it all and my relative insignificance. Then I look down and see the blue glow
flickering in the windows of the apartment buildings around me and wonder at the cocoons people weave around
themselves or have woven around them by others. That's supposed to be sanity? Being in the matrix, going
along with the party line of ones choice, 150 channels to choose from, but choose one because if you make your
own channel, well, maybe your a nutcase?
I yearn for my insanity.
For my mania, for when I noticed things. When I saw
the code behind the matrix, not understanding it, mind you, but at least seeing it.
Who's to say what is really real?
There is something to be said for living in the moment, I guess, and just going forward and taking things as they
come, playing by the rules, not looking back to far, not looking forward to far, enjoying the now. I guess living
that way can make you happy with life.
It's just that I look around me and just everything, and I mean everything knocks me for a loop. 6 billion souls
thinking seperate thoughts all living and breathing their own thoughts, each one a universe unto themselves, if
they so choose, or enmeshed in the framework of what? Televisions, computers, economics, other people, nature,
babies, families, homes, countries, radio,science art, everything, I try to see the purpose and It just stymies me.
I feel unattached from it all.
Emotions out of control can be scary but they anchor you. Pick your side, your
philosophy, your political position, your religion, your loves and your hates, and you have a world. Guns to stick
to. a raison d'etre. Now tear it all down. Tear it apart, rip it all up and spit it all out into a thousand pieces
and reconstruct it. Then you start to see how shallow it all was. Use a a calamity in your life and go with the
flow ripping it up even more than the matrix intended and then try to rebuild. You'll be amazed how fast a new
reality resolves around you. Now do it again and again and again. It becomes a habit. Fear starts to dissolve and
disappear and you gain a new respect for different points of view, until you rip those up too, and try another
perspective. I'm listening to some guy call into late night talk radio, predicting Jesus' return and world war
three. Wow. I wish sometimes that I could have a certainty of the future like that, a world view unshaken. But
I can't see things so simply as that anymore.
I try to cobble together beliefs of different religions and politics into my own point of view, but then I see the
vanity of it and rip it all up and toss it into the trash.
Sometimes I think that insects are spies. That they are just the eyes for other beings. Then I read that yes,
scientists are in fact working on little insect sized spy drones. I read it in the news. Now it's fact. Was I crazy
to think it before I knew it was a fact? Am I crazy now that it is in the media as a FACT?
I've thought the same thing about birds too.
Is every thought destined for reality or is there some sine wave that determines that. We can give alot of
creadance to statistics but in an infinite Universe, eventually million to one occurances will happen.
My girl believes that Jesus is going to return soon and judge us all and some will go to heaven and others to hell.
She doesn't believe in aliens though. So who's got a better handle on reality. She seems quite sure and devout,
and god bless her for it, but I ask her where heaven is and where Jesus is and what's heaven going to be like,
and she doesn't give me a straight answer. But she has faith.
If anyones faith should be shaken it should be hers. Like me she's lost everything and everyone she's loved.
She's officially a refugee, her country falls apart while the world still bickers about who knows the real god
and has the right political position. She's an official refugee. I'm a refugee too, but it's not official,
it's more hidden. I walk down the street and look just like you brother and sister, but my Universe has been
destroyed a number of times since I was a babe. Is it lazy of her to have unshaking faith or is it lazy of me not
to choose a faith and stick to it.?
I watched a guy on the cable TeeVee last week who looked just like Doctor Neo Cortex from crash Bandicoot, as he
went on and on about how god wants me to send in a seed of faith of 58 dollars to him, and if I just do so,
god will bless my life in unfathomable ways. The very look of him bespeaks of evil, but god he's just so
fascinating to watch! And the phones are just ringing off the hook for him. He talks about his Jag and his
mansion with pride and says god wants us to prosper too and all we have to do is have faith. My God he goes on
forever and he's so intense and fascinating, I feel like I'm examining a bug under a microscope, and I wonder.
Is he really evil? Or is he just really honest? He is preying on others to survive as he knows how. People are
sending him money, and I bet some of them are scraping the bottom of the barrell to get it, and he's using their
greed to feed his, and god I just can't stop saying that it's fascinating to watch. I'll bet some of those
people will have their prayers answered too, and who's to say that their reality isn't as real as mine?
Well, call this a Holden Caulfield moment, if you must. I have so much more to say, but I tire of it. Maybe another time.
I welcome your thoughts.
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