Revisited
My friends and I were very special to each other
Brutal, honest, and cathartic, we reenacted the chapters of our own lives in the privacy of the woods
My Evolution
My Father
He was best loved when we understood who he was
And not what we wanted him to be
This happened moments after his death
Always restless, my Father should have lived in a treehouse
There he would have been happiest
He lived his life like a jungle creature
Climbing, restless, and crouched in eager anticipation
He was not created for orderly and domestic life
The compromise:
He left every wife he ever married and lived in a series of small and spartan apartments
It was in this culture that I felt most loved
We were all free
He loved his monkey children
Purgation
One day, I decided to forgive people. I started with my parents.
I lived fifteen or so years of my life expecting to die before my time. When I realized that this might not happen, I became paralyzed. You see, I was not sure that I want to live in the first place. I was not suicidal; a suicide wants to die. I just wasn’t certain that I wanted to be born. There is a difference. And so I lived my life unborn, unhappy, and unsure whether I wanted to live or not. Telling somebody, who does not want to live, that they should want to live is like trying to make an olympian out of a cripple. My legs simply were not there.
In the end, I forgave everybody.
The Indigo and I
As a child, I was very sensitive and intuitive. My Father would brag about me to his friends and family, telling them how at age three I could read my Mother’s thoughts. My Mother was oddly mum on the subject. I lived for myself, and did not always play by the rules. I thought I was crazy, and sometimes still do.
Now, I have read on the Internet, there is a phenomenon that might explain my personality to the world. Have you heard of Indigo Children? They are, depending on who you ask, assertive, self-determined, mystical, psychic brats, with attention deficit disorder. Indigo Children don’t play by the rules. I guess I was not crazy. I was merely an Indigo Child.
Unknown and Known
Disassociation: a clinical definition, articulating the feeling of being seperated from ones own thoughts and feelings
We all disassociate, only to find ourselves moments later
Personally, I cycle through this daily
I will wake up, stare out the window, and the world is trying to murder me
Seconds later, I will stare out the window and I am reborn
I ask of God, am I dead or alive? And, why do I become reincarnated on a minute to minute basis?
