neoacidcreep

"This is your life, and it's ending one day at a time."

I am losing my mind.

Simply stated; it seems so banal to look at it now, clearly written out like that.  So...trivial...so remenescent of my entire life.

I can only think in two or three sentence burst about any one thing right now.  Please try to bear with me.

I keep hearing these little quotes from the past echoing to the fore:
"Reality is real to the person percieving it."
"There is nothing left to say, is there?"
"Just dust in the wind."
"There never once was a man who hated his own flesh."

Little philosophical tidbits from an ancient time that I cannot really place.

Vu ja de...the opposite of dejavu. The sensation that "this" will happen again and again.  I am assailed by this feeling of repition.

"Every day is exactly the same."

The slow march onward toward death.

I don't believe in death.  I will never die, a dream doesn't just cease.  It will go on ad infinium.

"'She's pretty.  I'll give her that.  Nothing spectacular, merely appealing to the eyes.'  I think as she approaches me.  I make it a point to mantain eye contact as she walks by me.  I feel the air displace to the fill the voids of our bodies moving against each other.  In the moment our heads turn to keep our eyes locked I realize we will never meet, we will never talk, we will never touch or share intimate moments, we will never be friends nor will we be enemies, we are two shadows passing across the sun for an instant in time that no one noticed and that no one will remember.  For that, I love this ghost of a woman.  For our mutual anonymity I love her with my entire being."

I pull up to my house.  Bam!  Staind comes on, "home" starts to play.

I start typing.  Bam!  Staind comes on, "Me" starts playing.

I fear that everything is happening for a reason.  That I am being led to this philosophical awekening.  A resurgence of that old version that I saw dearly loved.

I am gaurded, suddenly, again.  I don't want to talk about myself.  I don't want them to know who or what I am or what I am becoming.

The banyan tree goes downward.  No growth is noticed, it grows for itself and for no one else.

"Everything you think and everything you percieve are one and the same."

Not an exact quote but the message drifts across the plain of uninteligibilty.

So...this is me.

This is my life, this is my lie.

All these little inert scribblings are the composite of who I am.  It is why I take notes on my own life.  To make sure I didn't miss any good parts.

I have to keep scanning through them to make sure I didn't miss some amazing expierence that would alter my life forever.

"'How do you live like this?  Your life is so random!'
'I don't know, I don't think it is that random.'
'That's what is really disturbing!  You don't even realize it's random!'
'I dunno, it's my life.'"

My handle on reality is starting to decline.  Is it not true though that reality is real to the one who is observing it?  Aren't my halucinations real?!  If I stop trying to stay fucking sane and just let it flow out of me, start accepting what my mind wants to show me , stop fighting and give in, wouldn't that make my reality static again?!  Firm up my existence by letting it go?!

Easter.  Came.  Went.

Vow of silence?  Shot down no less then three seconds after I woke up.  I had to woke any way.  The whole idea was fundamentally flawed.

One more year that I am a worthless fuck.  No drastic change there, so we can move along.

Disturbing? that which I can grasp and others can't.  It has always shocked me at how quickly I can pick up concepts and assimilate them into my knowledge banks.

EJ and I were speaking.  I had to explain that my memory doesn't work apparently how other's do.  I don't have these clearly defined, delineated "chains" of flowing conscious thought.  My memory is scattered and jumbled in with other thoughts.

I always figured my memeory is shit because of the information I instinctively know.  I figure it is a trade off.  A wealth of inherint knowledge but no childhood...being little sucks any way though.

So...this is me.

Heh, I had initailly typed a questiog mark at the end on that statement,  Fruedian slip any one?