(The following story is duplicated here verebatim from a handwritten journal. The journal is a blue composition journal, college-ruled, and Staples brand. The author of the journal is in the throws of a euphoric and dysphoric addiction with adderall. Speculation as to the author’s identity is intriguing, but better left discovered somewhere else)
Who made you laugh the most, and how much time did you spend thinking about them? Our “lives” are nothing but a collection of sensations that our brain perceived and chronicalizes in a certain order. When I spend a night watching television and you visit the Sistine Chapel, what really is the distinction in the emotions? The only reason that you can even say that there are such tings as emotions that go with certain experiences is because everyone agrees on it. But it is within the individual to qualify how pleasant or unpleasant those experiences were. No one other than yourself can decide what you feel and how you acquire that feeling. They can only compare it to thteir own experiences and their own feelings and then decide that it must be the same experience manifesting in another’s life.
To say that someone dances to thte beat of their own drum is one of the most retarded expressions in the English language. I will never know how Under the Bridge really sounds to someone else, but I know that if I get as much joy from it’s melodies as I continue to every time it plays on the radio, then I have the task of trying to explain that to everyone I can and to try my hardest to make sure that their experience of those words strung together in that order is as powerful and joyous as mine have been.
Of course it is not the duty of every person to constantly explain exactly what they are feeling which would be endlessly boring and aggravating. We can chose to keep our experiences to ourselves, not to tshare them with others, not to let them escape our consciousness. And some experiences are best that way. In fact, all experiences are perfectly fine staying just where they are behind your eyes and between your ears. But the fact is that there is most likely someone who has felt the same way that you are feeling, experienced the little sensations that are unique to this one event. And the only thing more abundant than the number of identical experiences is the perspectives with which they are interpretted.
There is only this moment as a fact that we know we will get to experience for ourselves. Only the emotion and feeling that we have right now can be said to exist. The more moments you experience and the greater number of feelings you experience give you something that you didn’t have before. Perspective. Having only tasted vanilla you can’t be repulsed by strawberry. Always going out in the sun you can never feel the rain. Hearing with your ears, you cannot see the sounds as the vibrations they were before they reached you, and which they will never be again afterwards. While constantly trying to understand what everyone else hears and sees prevents you from understanding what you yourself do, sharing your experiences in anyway you can creates the possiblity that someone else will understand you. They will know your existance, if even for a brief moment and from a different lifetime.
Once there was a Camelot.
There was a book written about an eleven year old wizard who lived in a cuppard under the stairs and millions and millions of people read about him, often more than once. Once deadly and uncurable, polio and smallpox rarely appear anymore. There were eight Saw movies made. Life has expanded and transformed in infinite ways and through ceaseless expressions. You are one of six billion members of the same species , all of whom most likely see their existance and the moments in their life as having more importance than everyone else’s. Most people will have someone that they love die before they were able to tell them they were important, that their life mattered to someone, that because they were born and became the person they did, the universe changed and it will never be the same as before. Everyone will die. All the comes into being will fade and disappear. No one will know who you were in the inevitability of time.
Your name will be forgotten and everything that you have ever done will not matter. Eternity does not stop and it does not slow down, and it does not remember.
With no exceptions.
Looking at time and trying to change it or control it or delay it is doing something far more terrible. Making time into a reality. We cannot know that this exact time the sun has come up into the sky after being gone for some reason is called a Wednesday. Unless of course we knew that when the sun came up the time before now was a Tuesday. We create our lives and chose how to perceive them. No one else will ever live the exact same way and with the same thoughts, emotions, or desires. For one very simple reason.
No one else can be you.
And you will never be anyone else, even if you replicate their existance exactly. This is the only moment that exists. This is the only thing that will ever happen. This is your life, your universe, your legacy all wrapped up right now. It’s not some secret or hidden wisdom. Every thing that has been aware has known without fail. The trouble comes when we have to go about living, and doing things for reasons we don’t know and interacting with every other awareness that knows this same little secret, but never in the same way as anyone else.
So I chose to fill my moments with the woman I love more than anything I can think of, ****** ******** *******. And when she is not by my side, she will be on my mind. And if I forget about her, she will be in my heart. And when my heart fades into obscurity and both of our names have been forgotten, I will have given every moment I had in this life to have loved ****** ******** ******* with all my soul, and the universe will never be the same as it was before she was in it.
to be continued . . .