The World Behind The World

I live in more complex a reality than most people are capable of understanding, let alone acknowledging the existence of without severely shaking their faith in their own reality.

First and foremost, the matter of coincidence. I don't believe in coincidences; if something happens, then it happens for a reason. True, there are other people who have put a name to this phenomenon- be it Fate or God, it 'controls' us in an inescapable, inexplicable and impossible manner... But I don't believe that we're controlled by it, nor do I believe that it's an immortal, sentient being or consciousness pulling the strings of we puppets upon this momentary stage with all of its razzle-dazzle. In my belief, all facets of human interaction are subtly directed by the human subconscious, which itself is a metaphysical collection of the minds of humans from every plane of existence and every moment in time, both past and present.
On a day-to-day basis, most people would find this philosophy to be rather... unimportant. "Hurray," the average man would say; "We're being directed by an all-knowing amalgamation of subconscious thought. Well, that's all fine and dandy- but how's that going to help me any?"
To be perfectly honest, it wouldn't help the average man or woman in their day-to-day lives. It's a rather unimportant revelation which most people would find utterly useless. But for some people, the knowledge that there is indeed a reason behind the enigmas is reason enough to continue on, and for still others who are capable of tapping into the primordial strands in their mind, this epiphany grants them untold understanding, the ability to decipher the links and understand the reasons.

In essence, this is the portion of my reality which seems to be most prevalent at the moment. I keep asking myself, "Why now?" Why now has John decided not to let me know what's happening? Why now do I seem to be graced with such insurmountable odds and cursed with such glorious blessings? Why now, after almost four years, do I truly care about another human being- nonetheless one who's fifteen-hundred miles away?
Why now?

A time for everything and everything its place

I've blocked myself off from humanity almost entirely.
How many times have I done this? How many times have I said that I've done this? How much does anyone really care anymore?

When I'm closed off from communication for a while, my mind eventually wanders back in time to January 2007 and the thoughts that I had on the ride down to this hell hole- most likely because that was the last time I had a viable thought, one which was virtually a tangible entity hovering alongside the Mountaineer as it barreled down the highway with the U-Haul in tow. And the most prevalent thought of that time period had to do with my then-developing nomadic mindset.
I don't have a home. I have a house here, food and shelter, that enigmatic emotion known as 'love'... There are houses in Massachusetts where I can find food and shelter, perhaps even more obvious marks of that enigma... And I have no doubt that there are houses elsewhere that I could find food, shelter, and even 'love' in one form or another. I'm certain I have more people that I could help, more wrongs that I could right abroad, and I don't believe that my well-being would suffer much given that I'm perfectly capable of living for days and weeks on end with little to no food, am perfectly oblivious to the elements and have a weak grasp on the concepts of time and space.

Do we ever know when we'll get to where we need to be? Do we ever truly find ourselves, or do we rely on the Wheres, the Whens and the Whos to tell us?

Aqueous

Innocence. What is it? Is anyone really innocent? Even children carry the sin of parasitism, at least in my belief; they feed off of the mother for nine months and throw her entire body into disarray.

'Hark, what light through yonder window breaks!'

My mind isn't in any state of order at the moment. I'm not entirely sure what it is that causes this to happen, but it does this every so often; it's almost as if I came complete with a faulty self-destruct mechanism.
I've cut myself off from... society? Have I been in touch with society? I don't believe I was, but I've cut myself off from whatever portion of society that I may have been in contact with.

There are the days that I just want to curl into a ball, roll myself into a hole and die. Die, rot, decay and fester, and at the very least know that there's a chance that some beautiful thing might bloom from my remains.
Then there are the days when I want to cuddle up next to some faceless Somebody on a cold marble floor in front of a roaring fire. I feel as if I miss it, but who have I ever cuddled up next to?
Then there are the other days, the ones that I pine for. The days when my hands demand to write, to work ceaselessly on my novel-in-progress and to amend portions of the story that I never quite knew were broken.
Then come the days of lethargy, where all that I want to do is sleep. Sleep and sleep and sleep until the world darkens and humanity dies, until my mind is my own.

I'm afraid. I'm petrified of the fact that I might just be as useless as I think that I am.

What am I living for? What are we waiting for? The time is now.
Time for what? The hands on the clock face turn.
Droves of doves and groves of grubs.
Someone needs to say something about the pandas!
For the children!

Momentary, Transitory

Watching the flow of the world from the safety of my cage; that's what my purpose seems to be. I stare blankly out into the world and watch it turn... Sure, I have my hand in the actions of a few of the players- but truth be told, all that anyone ever does is respond to my expressions and my reactions. I'm the audience, through and through. I may even have an actor's heart- but the game never ends and he's certainly too dedicated to it to give it all up and sit with me on the sidelines. Everyone always is.

I try with all of my might to avoid self-pity. I don't complain nearly as often as I could, and even when I do I refuse to accept pity, refuse to accept sorrow.
... But life sucks. And I'm tired of hearing other peoples' complaints when they say that life is too much, when they have gripes about friends or family or circumstances, because I would give my world to experience their lives for a single day. I've sat here in a state of useless for two years now; you're out in the world, making differences and influencing actions.
You know what it's like to feel someone else touching you, to hear someone that you care about in person, to have the God damned sunlight on your face. What do I know? I know shadows; I know sorrow; I know nothing.
You have a reason to live, no matter how negligible you think that it is. You have someone to care about you, no matter who the hell you are. What do I have? I have shadows; I have sorrow; I have nothing.



"The innermost feelings I have: this life isn't doing it for me anymore. Just how tired can a person feel, anyway? June in Massachusetts... but I'm still the winter-frost on the windows I approach. I breathe into the glass and write, "No one was here." It is the most true statement that I will ever write. No one was here. No one has been here. No one will ever be here. Who are we anyway? We are... no one. I am your god, No One. Praise me, No One. My words read like the Bible that No One reads...

"What a poor excuse of social commentary!" the people say. No One shakes his head at me. No One shakes his head at No One. "What a silly boy!" No One says.

Pick a Title for your life. You will repeat many exchanges, hellos and goodbyes - but which trite line will be the chosen No One? Are you a Hello or a Goodbye?

No One is a Goodbye. (That would be me.)"
-Rachael Spatafore

That dreaded word, 'Coincidence'

There are events in this life that we as humans refer to as coincidence: two friends finding out that they share an important date; lovers calling each other at the same moment; a mother and a son making the same turn in their home and walking into each other. Even more alarming are the days when the entire world seems intent on making you aware of some little-known fact or some miscellaneous piece of trivia, or perhaps even the days when events all seem to come together to create a sense of euphoria or to tear you down and crush your Soul all at once. We call these things coincidence because, for all intents and purposes, that is all that we could understand them to be. If there is a greater power in the Cosmos, then we must be assured that It will look over the flows of Fate and Time, while understanding and accepting that the daily activities of a innumerable species such as our own are fully unplanned and destined to repeat and coalesce in coincidental ways. After all, there are only so many faces for the cast of our lives; eventually, they will overlap.

Personally, I don't believe in coincidence. I think that it's idiotic to assume that there's any form of a consciousness- call it God, call it Allah, call it Tsel- that has the power to maintain the structure and reason of the Cosmos, while being incapable of overseeing the flow of our lives in some form or another. Because of that, I've lived my life fully unaware of the concept of coincidence; I've followed up on every possible lead and I've found myself in interesting positions which I can't for a moment claim were in any way pointless. Because of my disbelief in coincidence, I have met great people, made astounding friends, and picked my way through the unrealistic circumstances of what life I've had.

At the moment, I'm staring down Fate once more. I'm tempting 'coincidence' and I'm finding myself speechless; cogs are turning because I refuse to accept the reality that I've been handed. I can't say much, mainly because it's impossible to put the sensation into words. It's as if the entire Cosmos is realigning itself, as if time and space are becoming even more fragile and reality is warping; it's undescribable, both painful and pleasureable, the sweetest of sorrows and the most chaotic of melodies...
Suffice it to say, I will know where I belong in short order. I will have a reason to be there, and I will have a reason to stay. I have the utmost faith in that.

Resolution

I have a horrible habit of developing an interest in people who, for all intents and purposes, see me as little more than intriguing, a thing of momentary interest and perhaps temporary care. This is why I've only technically been in one relationship, which worked together with the general collapse of my life to land me in two mental hospitals to receive treatment for severe depression; this is why I am consistently lonely.
Why am I attracted to such abrasive individuals? There are a multitude of possible reasons: I've an older brother who would treat me as something akin to a toy when I was younger; I've a father who has treated me as if I were a waste of space for longer than I can remember; I've dangerously low self-esteem and a desire to be 'dominated' as it were. The only thing I know for certain is that I am a masochist, and I respond positively to negative reinforcement such as rejection.

My resolution for this new year is to work towards boosting my self-esteem with the specific intent of giving myself a chance to enter into a healthy relationship.

Time for a change

I've had the same Livejournal account for the past three and a half years. In that time, it's surely served me well; it's given me a place to store my thoughts when my mind was incapable of forcing my hands to write, and it's given me a location where I could post my meanderings where they had the chance to be read and analyzed by my peers. But the person that I was three and a half years ago... I don't even know who that person was anymore. I can't understand his motivation, I can't duplicate his thought processes, and I can barely remember what his life was like. It's an insult to his memory for me to continue to use Livejournal the way that I have been. I want to leave the past where it lies, not continue to churn it up every time that I have another thought to post, another question to ask or another miscellaneous fragment of my personality to add to the complex tapestry that I've become.
I want to start over. I don't want to abandon my past, because I know that without it, I won't have a future. I simply want to be able to accept that the past is in the past, and chose which parts of the past that I allow to affect me in the future. And so I will, starting right now and right here.