What If?

•March 31, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I’m far from sober right now but I’ve reached the state where my lack of sobriety has induced a train of thoughts beginning with the old and tired questions of why we’re here, what’s the meaning of life, is there anything to look forward to afterwards, heaven, hell, etc… After sitting and thinking about all of this for a while I came to somewhat of an insane yet plausible theory. It might seem strange or absolutely impossible at first but if you bare with me, by the end of this maybe you’ll agree with me, or at least accept my ideas as a valid argument towards these questions we all wonder about.

Not long ago I was reading about how our cells might be able to store memory. There are a number of reports online about people being able to recall memories that weren’t their own after receiving an organ transplant. Not a brain transplant… just any random organ. These stories led me to websites where scientists described their theories and ideas about cells being able to store memories in paces other than the brain. Now combining my knowledge of the different fields of science, being biology, chemistry, and astronomy; I feel like my lack of specialization leads me to experience a unique idea of how everything works from the universe itself all the way down to the atoms that make up everything around us including ourselves.

One fact that I’ve always been fascinated with is that all of the atoms that make us and everything in this world and every other planet in the universe have all been created within stars. Stars use nuclear fusion to fuse hydrogen atoms into larger elements. When the star becomes too heavy to support it’s own weight, it explodes as a supernova, cascading debris (the elements it created) into space. These debris form asteroids, planets… and if the conditions are perfect, life. We are made from stardust. We are the universe and the universe is us.

I know I seem to be jumping between two very different topics but in my head it all ties together. If cellular memory is a real thing and those transplant stories online are true, what if the memories go deeper than that? What if our memories are stored in the very atoms that make up our cells. Scientists today don’t know enough about atoms to be able to test my theory, especially since they’ve only recently discovered that protons are made up of even smaller particles… but maybe my idea will be remembered some day and tested when the proper knowledge is found.

So piecing everything together now, here is my full theory: What if our memories are stored within the atoms that make us, but not individually. For example, every atom holds every memory. If you remove an atom from me and analyze it with a tool yet to be invented or with an ability the mind has not yet learned how to use, all of my memories, (and all of the memories of anyone else who previously had that atom as a part of them) can be read. This brings on the next part of my theory. If we are the universe and the universe is us, what if we are us…. I am you, you are me… What if every person, every animal, every life, is all one soul living over and over again and even simultaneously, but only remembering one life at a time. For example, in this round I am me, but the next round I am you. Each time this soul reaches the end of a life, it back tracks to which ever life comes next in the sequence. I was born October 17, 1989 at 5:17 pm. Following this theory, my next round would be to live the life of whoever was the next person born immediately after me on October 17th, 1989. And after that life is over the soul runs back to that night again to begin the life of the next person born. This goes on from the beginning of life until the last thing to ever live dies. And if there has been or will be life anywhere else in the universe that will also be experienced. And at the end, if there is an end, the universe itself is really the only soul to ever exist, and the soul purpose of life is for the universe to experience itself.

‘Tis The Season

•September 4, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Dear Seasons,

I know I’ve been kind of bipolar lately, and not being able to decide what I want or what I’m really looking for, but I’ve decided. Summer, you’re definitely the hottest but for me it’s not really a good thing. How do you think it makes me feel when you make everyone around you so thirsty all the time? It sucks. And that’s why I want you to leave. Winter, you’re definitely the coolest but too cool for me. Granted, you are always around for the holidays and Valentine’s day, but after this past year, I don’t think I can keep up with you anymore. You were so cold I felt like you didn’t care for me at all… like you just don’t give a fuck. But don’t worry too much, because I still want to occasionally see you in the future. There’s something so refreshing about you that I can’t explain. Spring, you can get the fuck out of my life permanently. It seems like every time we’re together you get me sick. Even as you’re approaching I have to pop pills just to tolerate being around you. The only good quality you have is that you can really make it rain. As for Fall, you were my first love. You’re always there for my birthday and my favorite holiday, Halloween. You were the first season I ever experienced and I guess I feel more attached because of the fact that you were my first. It was a hard decision to make because I love you all (except for Spring), so I hope this doesn’t make any of you feel under the weather or anything… I’ll see you all next time you come around but Fall, when you arrive, I want you to stay forever.

Demands and Expectations

•March 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I can’t live up to anyone’s demands or expectations. I have been called worthless, a piece of shit, and a liar among other things. But nobody wants to listen to me. I am a person with my own life, my own problems, and my own responsibilities. With so many people expecting me to drop whatever I’m doing to do something for them and others needing me to hold their hand while they do things every other person on Earth is easily capable of doing alone, I’m completely drained. I can’t do this anymore. I have no time for myself and when I ask for a day here and there to get my own things sorted out and taken care of I’m some kind of inconsiderate monster. According to everyone in my life I’m supposed to tend to everyone else’s needs before my own, including my basic needs such as eating, sleeping, and bathing. I’ve had days when I had to wake up early to help someone with something and didn’t get to eat until later that night, I’ve had times when I had so much to do for everyone that I only got a few hours of sleep or none at all, and I’ve had times when I didn’t shower for a week because I had no time to do it. Since the beginning of 2014 I’ve been waking up every morning with a phone call from someone saying they need me for something. If I politely decline they become outraged like it’s my duty to cater to them. No reason is good enough. Every excuse I give is exactly that… an excuse. I’m tired, let me eat first, I need to do some errands today, I’m helping someone else with something and I can’t today, can I please take a fucking shower first because I don’t want to show up stinky. No. My “service” is needed immediately and the longer it takes me to arrive or begin the task, the louder they yell at me. The insults also become worse as the days pass. I can’t satisfy everyone’s needs and requests and if I start to slip from exhaustion, the demands become greater. All I want and all I need is one or two days a week for myself where I don’t have to answer to anyone or put my own life on hold to complete a series mundane tasks the person is too lazy to do themselves. But “God forbid” I say anything to them. There is nothing I can say to explain that I can’t do everything they ask. Nobody listens to the words coming from my mouth even if I scream it. The simple sentence “I’m sorry but I have a lot of things that need to get done today that can’t wait.” is perceived as “Fuck you I’m gonna sit on my ass all day and do what I want because I don’t love you.” And that’s my main point. The problem is, everyone believes I am required to wait on them hand and foot to prove I love them. And if I decline to do something, it means I no longer love them. Some of you reading this may think I have one person in mind but I don’t. I am referring to several people in my life that I love dearly. Be it family or friends they all mean something to me and it hurts me when I am unable to fulfill their every wish. I want to make everyone happy and that’s my curse. In order for everyone around me to be happy, I have to sacrifice my own happiness and my own life to become a servant, a maid, and a caretaker; all while I try as hard as I can to keep myself alive and healthy. Some people know what will most likely kill them in the end and I’m certain if this continues I will die of exhaustion. How many times can I replace sleep with coffee before it affects my health? How many times can I put off paying my bills because someone else needs the money more than I do. If I die today, I fear none of these people will be able to survive on their own despite doing perfectly fine before I came into the picture; and in the case of family, before I became old enough for the role of caretaker to switch places. I used to be a companion, a friend, and a family member; but now I have subsequently become a mother, a bank, a maid, and a nurse. I just can’t do it anymore. I am no longer respected or treated like a human being, and now I question if these people even love me at all. If they claim to love me as much as they do, why does it seem like no one cares?

Welcoming Insanity

•August 8, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Let me escape from reality. Just for a little while. Just until this is over. I feel it starting slowly inside me so why not jump in and ride it for a while? But what if it’s permanent? What if this is the one thing, the one event that breaks me? What if I’m closer to insanity than I previously thought? I fear that letting myself go might bring me to the point of no return. Everyone has a little bit of insanity inside them that comes out in extremely stressful times but I’ve never felt it like this before. I feel like I’m dreaming. I’m crawling into a fantasy that I’m building out of the shattered pieces of my collapsing mind. A normal person puts the pieces back together and a scar is formed. The scar will always remain and the broken piece will continue to function close to normal. Occasionally the scar will get in the way but dysfunction is minimal. I however have so many broken pieces it is impossible to repair. My mind is rebuilding as it collapses putting things in the wrong place, and sending me on a an emotional roller coaster ranging from delusional euphoria down to hopelessness and lethargy. The strange thing though, is that sobriety does not matter. The waves of varying insanity happen randomly and the use or abstinence of alcohol does not cause or prevent these episodes. There is no pattern. One minute I’m flying in a blissful universe where all is well and suddenly I plummet down to reality and I’m left crippled in tears. For once I wish I was numb. In the past I’ve asked for happiness but happiness during these current events will only lead to guilt. Why should I be happy when I’m expected to spiral into depression? I accept the depression when appears but it comes so strong I wish for numbness, but instead I get bliss. Then the bliss guilts me back to depression. But as the bliss is starting I welcome it and let myself float up into delusion. It lasts longer and longer each time, until I snap back to reality and crash. But what should I fight? Should I fight the bliss or the depression? I’ve been letting it run its course but there’s no relief. There’s no middle ground for me to land on and rest to regroup and plan on setting the correct stones in the road ahead. If I could just have a moment… It doesn’t have to be every day just once in a while to allow me to take care of myself and work on this situation. I want this all to stop. I want to drop all emotions, happy and sad alike, just so I can clear my mind and work on a solution. But instead, my mind decided it does not want to work in my favor and is creating these highs and lows to drive me insane. Why? Because insanity might be the only escape I have for the next few months.


•October 12, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I honestly can’t tolerate humanity anymore its like people aren’t even people anymore. It’s just one clone after the next. I know who’s real and I know who’s a cheap copy. But I didn’t notice this until around this time last year. And at the time, I didn’t think much of it. I just passed it off thinking it was a lack of individuality. But slowly throughout the year I started noticing some trends that were almost frightening and my mind split in two. Half of me thought I was going insane, and the other half wanted to further investigate exactly what was going on. Today I find myself living in a psycho-social cradle I built for myself in my mind, not knowing if I should interact, silently observe, or completely ignore the things I’ve been noticing. I’m also afraid that I’ve fallen into a Twilight Zone… like I’ve stepped into an alternate dimension and became trapped. I still don’t know why exactly this old school sci-fi series of events is happening and what will happen to me along with the few “real” people in my life but the numbers are dropping at faster and faster rates and I fear that I may soon lose my mind or fall victim to this anomaly that has interrupted my life. Please tell me why and how this is happening and if I’m insane or if I have discovered the secret of the universe.

I am convinced that the place I work is some kind of portal to another dimension or possibly a “hiccup” in time itself. As soon as I started my employment, I noticed one key attribute that my coworkers share. I used to know all of them somewhere else in this lifetime, but as different people. Two of them look like they could be twins of people I used to know. Not just by face though… Personality, appearance, clothing style, and even their voice and choice of words when speaking, these people even share the same laugh, the same body language, and the same emphasis of words in sentences. And here’s the catch… All but one of the original people have been removed from my life, and I am now faced with clones of people I used to know. The only difference is age. I have befriended one of them, and actually, she is my only coworker that I enjoy hanging out with. She has proven to be “real” forcing me to believe that the original was the fake. I only say “real” and “fake” because I find it impossible to believe that human DNA hasn’t been able to distinguish more than ten separate personalities in this enormous population.

In this building I have met my mother twice, both were patients, after she was removed from my life when she moved to Canada and chose to cease contact with me. I have met three people I remember from high school but haven’t seen or heard from since graduation… I met all of my exes and my current boyfriend through patients, coworkers, and ambulance drivers. I even predicted the loss of my best friend. A new guy was hired who resembled him, had the same personality, same music taste, same height, and same sense of style… as soon as I noticed the two were exactly the same, I received news that my best friend was moving immediately to another state.

One thing I am not afraid of though, is losing my boyfriend. He was the first “real” person I ever met. He moved away during high school and I never heard from him again until this past December. But while he was gone I met dozens of his “clones”. I encountered people who reminded me of him, I met people who looked like they could be his twin; I met him over and over until I learned to live with his indirect presence. Then when we randomly ran into each other, the “clones” all disappeared, with the exception of the one ambulance driver at work that I rarely see. He only shows up once every few months but he’s so distant that it seems like he’s the one out of my life… if that makes any sense.

The final anomaly I would like to bring up is my boss. She has a strange presence to her. Its not only the normal “fear me, for I control you five days a week during your shift” kind of boss stuff, it’s more. She seems to know what I am thinking as I’m thinking it. I don’t mean that she could read my mind, I mean she knows what I’m going to think before I could think it. She reacts at the very instant a negative thought about her enters my mind. And when I show her I do not fear her, she develops this strange swaying as she stands as if she was drunk or drugged… as if my lack of fear was draining her physically. Also, I’ve noticed something related with a coworker I regularly speak to. Whenever she approaches me to complain about our boss, or ask my opinion of something unfair or down right mean that my boss does, she begins to do the same drunk-like swaying motion that my boss does, but only if I say bad things about my boss. I have three possible theories about what could be causing this other than the obvious (actual coincidental involvement of drugs or alcohol)… maybe my boss is psychically attacking my coworker because she knows we both enjoy insulting her behind her back. Or maybe my boss is actually possessing her to get information from me… My last theory, brace yourself for this as it is the wildest thing you can imagine: my boss is a shape-shifter and is using her ability to transform herself to spy on me? No… it can’t be that. Has the stress of this job affected me in a way that I am becoming paranoid of all that surrounds me while I’m in the building? That sounds like the most realistic answer… But maybe there isn’t anything wrong with me and I’m just a victim to a series of anomalies that will only end by cutting the grip the building I work in has on me. I work in a place where most people go to wait for death. A place where there is so much death that the very walls reek of anxiety, confusion, and sorrow… A place where anyone can become trapped in the void if they aren’t careful. Maybe I’m not crazy…


•April 21, 2012 • Leave a Comment

They called me names, they made fun of me behind my back; they all thought it was so funny. But what they never knew was what they were really doing to me. They saw me as angry and antisocial, but it was them that caused these feelings to arise. They treated me like my entire being was nothing but a joke. A joke created purely for their own entertainment. This thing that they make fun of has no soul… no feelings. She’s just an empty body of a person with no mind, no heart, nothing. Just a big, fat, ugly ball of flesh and bones. I don’t know what could have possibly been going through their heads. As if my reaction wasn’t enough. I tried being nice to them, which is what sparked this whole thing to start… I tried ignoring them, with no luck, I tried being as mean to them as they were to me but that didn’t work either. After one incident, I never let them see me cry again. Because as soon as the tears started flowing, the lies started. “Oh you know I was just kidding, we don’t mean any harm by it.” Others did come over and say things like “Look what you did, how can you treat her like that” but they never stopped. Breaking down in front of them was the biggest mistake I could have made. It became a competition to see how fast they could destroy me. No one understood how I felt. If I went to someone with a problem, they always said the same thing. Ignore them. How could you ignore a group of people attacking you from all angles and hitting you hardest where it hurts the most? Its unrealistic to think it’s possible to just walk away like nothing is wrong. They continued regardless of whether I responded to them or not. The question I always asked for advice was: How do I convince myself that everything they say are lies? Yes I am overweight, I guess I am fat. I only have 2 friends… could it really be because I’m ugly? I’m an A and B student but these people who make fun of me are members of the honors society and are straight A students… I am stupid compared to them. How could a group of Honor Roll students torture one of their own like this. It’s the B’s I’ve been getting. Maybe if I try to be valedictorian people will like me. Straight A’s, and nothing but threats and more rumors. How can I get through this? Drugs. I’ll take drugs. I hear they numb you and take away your feelings. That was basically trial and error. Some were wonderful, others I regret and still shudder at the thought of ever trying them again. But after finding my drug, nothing they said mattered anymore. Marijuana saved my life and my sanity.

Years passed since graduation but I still find myself unable to let go of the 15 years of bullying I endured. I was made fun of in pre-school, kindergarten, and all the way up from 1st to 12th grade. Even a little in college. The reason I can’t let go of this is not because of the length of time I was bullied, but rather, the permanent psychological damage done to me. I can’t be confident, I can’t have self-esteem, I can’t ever look at myself in the mirror and be happy with what I see. Also, what happened to the rule “The popular kids reach their peak in high school and after they enter the real world they become nobodies and the kids that were made fun of always come out on top.”? These people that ruined me are all still popular, they are all graduating from Universities, starting families, and living a happy life. Remember me? I’m still stuck taking night classes at the community college because I never got any scholarships. I couldn’t afford to go anywhere so I’ve been going part time and working for the past four years. When do I get to be on top. I feel like every bit of hard work I put in becomes counter-productive and something is always there to push me back. I may never win.

What I’ve Always Wanted

•June 14, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I realize now the things I never once thought about but have always been inside me. Things I thought were normal and that I should just have to get used to. That empty void in my soul that craves one thing more than anything else… The true happiness brought on by a single thing no one else understands. No, not sex, not love, not even a simple companionship. A craving of art in music greater than anything a mere human can ever produce. The gods, goddesses, demons, and even Satan himself may not even know what I speak of. All the music I hear, regardless of age, has something missing. The melodic sounds of Dimmu Borgir has an effect of extacy, but it only makes me crave something more, something better… something not of this world or even of this existence. The music I hear in my mind, I can’t comprehend it; let alone find the ability within myself to even begin to describe the intensity of the different sounds and voices coming together in perfect harmony and symmetry. This music I hear in my head, is what I’ve been seeking for years. I hear it, imagine it, I even become it at times, but I lack the ability to play it or even put it down on paper. My mind can’t process the ideas fast enough, the ideas that race through my mind so fast I don’t even notice at times. The sounds pass through me in a way that I can only catch a glimpse of the potential it has to be the greatest song ever written. Lyrics mean nothing in this case, because words can have different meanings, and each person who hears it can perceive it uniquely, in a way no one else can. What I speak of is the combination of sounds that take you off your feet in astonishment. I hear people on a daily basis describe music in this way but I can’t find it in anything I listen to. I can’t produce these feelings within myself to enjoy it on the level described. And that is why I imagine this music. Its too complex for most people to understand, even for myself. I can’t come to produce it and as I said, describing even a single aspect of it is nearly impossible. The song I hear is infinite in its intensity, and I feel that maybe some people might not even have it in them to handle listening to even a few seconds of it without being so overwhelmed they lose consciousness or worse… because the human senses aren’t built to handle such music, and the vibrations produced by the harmonization of these sounds may drive a person insane. I wish to one day be able to express this thought in music form, though I feel even the greatest composers of history cannot begin to understand the music I hear in my head, and I wish to share it with those like me. Those who appreciate music for everything it is. The people who are effected emotionally and sometimes even physically by a masterpiece that others shrug off because it isn’t “in”. I will produce this song, and when my own abilities to play an instrument begin to prevent me from performing something of this complexity, I will learn, and if the music is too fast for any human to play, even those who have broken world records in speed, I have my computer.


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