The Dark Corner of the Mind: Miscellaneous

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Death

As I lay in bed and the early morning hours creep by, the unwelcome heat of the night stealing my sleep away, I find myself baffled by this thing we call Life. It is a phenomenon that is just absolutely incomprehensible.

And I'm not talking about that cliché, "What's the meaning of life?" Not that kind of life. I mean Life. That is, being. Being something. Something different to someone else. I contend that your "soul" is the reason you are within your body, and I am in mine.

And this is what I can't comprehend. Bodies are just things; structures. Blood, bones, skin and plenty of other disgusting stuff all mushed together.

So why is it that I can feel this keyboard. Isn't the body just a structure? Central nervous system or not, it is the soul giving Life to this body that I cannot for the Life of me understand.

So that's Life.

Enter Death.

I don't have a religion. I have somewhat of an existental nihilistic view on life. Maybe that's just because nobody's given me any answers, or a simple, clear-cut, "This is what happens after Death, and here's the evidence."

But then, those views are only "somewhat", while I have my own theories on what could possibly happen after Death greets you.

[For those of you who are religious, none of the following is intended to knock any religion. The following are just views and ideas. I will be fairly blunt.]

I think that when my Life's done living, I will go to a place where there is no touch, smell, taste, sight or sound, no emotion and no thought, and no sense of being. All these are bodily functions. A body that's not working can't perform these functions.

My theory is that, after Death, the soul leaves the body and rests in the next closest "host". And this is an ongoing process. As far as I'm concerned, at some point my soul occupied the body of someone in the Middle Ages.

But memory is also something not carried by the soul. And as I watch technology advance, I realise that I've still got a lot to see (by the time I pass on, I'll be in the future -- I think that seems like a fair observation). But I also realise that the 18 (for I could, in fact, die tomorrow) - 150 (for I can't predict medical technology 30+ years from now) years I live will be such a small snippet of humankind's progression, and I wish that the soul did carry memory. Because if my soul does, for instance, take a place in 3010, the body it occupies will not remember any of what I learned in my whole lifetime.

Which brings me to another point. What is the point in Life? Why do these souls go around giving life to things created. There can't be any point in it. And I think I've come to the conclusion just now, that they just do. There is no point in it.

I don't believe in Heaven. I wish I could be convinced that there is one, but again, when the body dies, so with it does its functions. A soul is lifeless without a host. But it's Life. We have a two-way conversation here. One can't be without the other. A soul has no sense, no being, without a body. A body is lifeless without a soul.

But it isn't this why that baffles me. It's the how. Every living creature must have a soul. When you die, does it stay with you and become useless?

I don't know what happens after Death. That's why I intend to make the most out of my Life. I think when you're old and tired, Nothingness is better than pain. If some kind of Heaven awaits me, then I'll be pleasantly surprised. Although, I wouldn't go to Heaven, since I'm not religious -- I would go to Hell. In which case, I would be not-so-pleasantly surprised.

Did you know that insects and spiders can't feel pain because they're invertebrate and don't have a central nervous system? That's why they don't seem to mind moving around with a missing leg or two.

I looked it up because I felt sorry for the insects that I inevitably step on every day.

And it gives me hope for when I die and hatch as an ant.

posted under Miscellaneous, Symptoms of a Sleep-Deprived Author | 5 Comments

A Profound Sense of Melancholy

I have spent the last few days with A Profound Sense of Melancholy hanging over me. I have passed the years immersed in my schooling and in my own personal aspirations. Now I open my "early years" photo album and flick through, paying attention to none in particular. But for one photo.

Just one.

The one with the baby-blonde hair, one knee knelt in the grass. Behind is an expanse of short-cut grass, and then a backdrop of dense trees filling up the picture.

I've just looked up from playing in the grass, with the most innocent smile you've ever seen. One of pure happiness.

Nothing else in the world matters. I'm happy here just playing in the grass.

I have no words to describe the sense of happiness this photo gives me, but even more so the melancholy along with it.

Suddenly I'm seventeen. How the hell did this happen? Time is passing too quickly. How will I be ready for University in a year's time?

The past few days, as I've gone about my daily things, no matter what, the image of innocence comes to my mind, and I can't shake it. And when it does, I can't help but feel this Profound Sense of Melancholy. I feel like my freedom is gone from me. School, home, homework, school, home, homework, school, home, homework, again, again, again. I've been at this for twelve years now.

Is it too much to ask for someone to invent a time-machine? Why can't we travel back to when nothing mattered?

Why does seeing pure, innocent happiness make my eyes water? Yet I continue to gaze at the photo.

And I don't know why I can't shake this Profound Sense of Melancholy.

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Au Terreur

Terreur, je n'ai eu pas des amis que j'adore comme j'adorais mes amis il y a trois ans.

Terreur, I have never had any friends that I love as much as those I had three years ago, before I left. At recess and lunch I stand with a group of people of whom some accept me while many of them don't, and only go to the movies in their tight-knit group.

But what's really sad? My long-term memory. The fact that I can't even remember the inside part of "The Parliament". I miss having true friends, save for the few I have gained and kept.

I wished I could have reacted bigger when I drove past you today, but when I drive, I grip the wheel very tight and my hands go white.

I stuck with you for a year and a half because I loved you, no matter what.

And now there is nothing, and I live on the hill, writing day after day and trying to maintain a blog so I can help other writers and entertain people and market my novel. And to feel that people actually like me because of who I am, what I know and what I do.

I haven't heard from Mykaelah since, but I know Brod well enough. One day Clinky asked if we could go to Fountain Gate. I said "sounds cool, I'll see when I'm available". And I never spoke to her about it again.

I got a text from Sarah once. It said she "liked" me. I probably responded with something like "okay", and never spoke of it again. Because I loved you, and I was with you, and she was your friend and I didn't want to hurt you.

Isn't it funny how the past seems to have disintegrated? Like it's so long ago that it never existed. It feels like a dream to me. It feels like a dream I had this morning, and a dream that I would have for the future. Wouldn't it be a dream to be around people you love and who love you back?

I had my dream three years ago, and now it's gone.

So I'm looking at a new dream. Not the dream of this morning, but the dream I'll have tonight. To be with someone who loves me for who I am, what I know and what I do. To do what I love, what I know, and what makes me who I am.

I might not make a living out of writing.

But writing will make a living out of me.

Because writing is my life.

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