Release

Contemplating The Universe Pt. 1

P.S. - Due to myself having nothing truly profound within my physical existence, I'll write/journal about my thoughts, "Just like the good ol' days."

This will be part 1 of what my brain constantly does without distraction. The attempt to philosophize everything.

I hope you'll find some enjoyment in reading this, or a headache from the constant reoccurring thoughts that dance around a flame all staring at their own reflection but never seeing themselves.

Perhaps you'll find yourself a thought that you can keep for your own.

Take it all if you'd like.

-

June 13th, 2022.

I need to write, like how it all began.
I wrote for myself, for my memory, & to forget; to be at peace with my past, and present. I place far too much passive pressure to create something unique or profound, to the point of where writing becomes a distant joy. I didn't care about it being, "perfect" or better than my last, I simply wrote, about everything one possibly could. A thought, an experience, a desire..

I must return to this place, as writing was my form of release, and in these moments of quiet solitude, all I have are thoughts, obsessions, and the constant churning of words. All too often they are overwhelming, I may not want to admit it, but when all one has are consuming thoughts, peace and happiness become a distant vision. To carve myself out of darkness without repenting. I press the tainted world to my skin, to my heart, and mind, and they corrupt as expected. I'm almost never wrong about my predictions, but even if they could potentially cause harm, or risk to my own life, I still proceed. I do indeed like to challenge the odds that are against me, death, psychosis, & even if it's the most tormenting thing, I'm lured deeper into the darkness. A dark halo follows me everywhere I go. The world that held colour on cloudy days, now feels like a weighted blanket of hazy plastic film hovering in front of my light intake. Without sunshine, I am being challenged by distilled air, the reminder of a deathly ego is not pleasant. Though, everything reminds me of my self inflicted trauma. The hunger for knowledge, and to know about the universe. The desire to know "why?" to all that one possibly can. The terrifying reality, that one wouldn't normally be empathizing with. I feel that now. A constant grip on something that moved passively, now with my fingers intertwined with a universal frequency that isn't meant to satisfy the human desire for meaningfulness. An empathy for the stars, for our Earth, for the Universe, to microscopic organisms, plants, & animals. The overwhelming feeling, of what it feels like to be everything. It smoulders an ever growing hole in my physical being. The child I once was would be very proud of me, but the price of my success and fulfilled desires to know as much as possible about the universe, carried a pain that kills, or nullifies one of simplicity. This also comes with the fact that what I do know, or what anyone knows is an infinitely small piece of nothingness. A constant vacuum of expansion that passes with time that's traveling further than anyone could ever imagine or quantify. There is no true function, or number that could express the amount of nothingness that we know. Only the phenomenon of, ∞. How ridiculous is that, that every single answer exists within that little sleeping 8 of a symbol? The future, the past, the continuous present. Something greater than every moment of existence that any of us will ever experience, & lesser than a singularity of existence. There is nothing more terrifying or more beautiful than that. It is everything, and nothing.
We know nothing different, and due to our genetic makeup that's been perfected for millions of years, how we perceive this ∞, though our current perceptions and how we are able to measure and feel, "time". An interesting thought came to me just now. Our perceptions of time change throughout the day, throughout the month, and throughout our life, but time is forever constant. It doesn't change, but our perceptions of it do, but these changes of perception in relation to time, are literally what holds our own reality together.
"What a fast day!" "What a long day!" We might say, we didn't lose time, we didn't gain any more time, but the feeling or illusion that we did can impact our emotions and our perceptions greatly, which is usually beyond our control, and is only realized after the time has passed. No mad man has the initial plan to create such temporal alterations without drugs, to have a, "fast day" or a, "slow day". I feel that this solidifies the idea that time is within our own human perceptions, and no other living creature perceives time quite like we do, not at all. Even so, as we are humans, generally we experience a relatively similar realize, for most. I'm assuming. Though, just imagine the dynamic of perceived time when you don't even have such digital mechanisms to tell you how much time has passed, or anything to hold time for you. To be a less conscious animal, or living creature. You wake up, you go to sleep, you feel things through chemical signals that are brought upon your existence's interactions, regarding fear, or excitement, or whatever purpose their DNA gives them as their nature. Without being able to hold time, especially with memory retention, life would seem rather quick. Some might say, pointless. To forget the previous day, but to only remember familiarity with those that aren't predatory or a threat to you, often it mustn't be a true memory that plays in their mind, but as simple as a passive familiarity that would bring them a sense of comfort toward said familiarity. Even as we are babies, we haven't a clue whether our parents or whoever is raising us is "good, or "bad". We don't know whether they treat us well, or wonderfully, we have this sense of familiarity with them, no matter if they hurt us, we, "love" them, or passively trust them simply out of the response of familiarity. Often so, an abuser can be far more comforting than a stranger due to that strange comfort of knowing them, and knowing what to expect. The excitement of a lost creature that finally finds it's comfort that it was passively looking for during it's entire parting.

I cannot be motionless, thoughtless, or wasting my time without a knife being driven into my mind, pushing me toward the inevitable. I wrote and spoke of many things in my past that I didn't even know existed; as they were once seeds planted in my adolescent mind, or even before when I defied all usurpers, I always asked why. Finally, I have satisfying answers to all of my past questions. They were so easily discovered in the grand scheme of endlessness, and in a world without curiosity, when one can predict any next occurrence, with constant unfolding permutations resulting in the singularity of time, of the next moment's happening. The child that once casted his words into the abyss, screaming tears into a pillow for release, gave birth to a darkness that spoke back. I mean this very metaphorically, but don't let this metaphor dilute the severity of such mental pillars. I'm thankful for my mind, for its health that it has seemed to have retained. A mind that hungers to consume black holes, and has yet to dissolve into itself. The warning of insanity, maybe I am insane, the world I live in, is truly not your own. The singularity that I face is not that of depression, such a puny egotistic existence that is; but the inhuman reality of all one can see without eyes. To live in a world where one is conscious of time, where one can hold it within their hands, but just as it grasped, it slips away in that very moment. After one breaks time more than once, you start to lose your previous concept of it. You attempt to put it back together with constructive thoughts. The feeling, the management, the internal clock isn't quite the same as it once was, and very quickly you forget the feeling of what it was like to be alive. Your past self, an innocent child that has control of nothing, where all outside factors of one's youth, determines his/her future. Destiny, or fate; concepts that once held so much fantasy in my mind, and that I'd baffle over with disregard. These are no longer superstitions. Do you truly believe that you got to the instance you are in now, because you had control of your past, and even now? Your successes, your failures? Your dreams? Your health? Where you were born? Which family you were spawned from? The time? There was nothing prior to your birth, without you being born, how could one know of anything? You wouldn't, and without being able to perceive, nothing would exist. This world, everything you know, it's all you. Beyond you, there is nothing. How could one possibly have control of anything; when we are influenced by absolutely everything else? We are all reflections of our past, a reflection and creation of everything that once was, and is now. That singularity of nowness, has already become the past, the endless unravelling of time. There is no escaping such concept, as even once we lose our ability to perceive, time will still exist, but at the exact moment of losing time forever, everything might as well evaporate into infinity. When we go to sleep, for most of that sleep we are unconscious. We wake up, and due to how we are feeling, or with a time keeping device, or the sun's position, or not, we gage how long we slept. We don't actually feel how long we slept. Imagine being conscious during every moment of sleep. That wouldn't be very exciting, and it just wouldn't function in a human being's existence.

Time, perhaps it's the closest thing to a, "God", though it has nothing to do with glorifying human beings. I'm thankful for the ego that brought humanity and sentience this far in evolution; however, it is the war that I fight against, and the war that we all will lose.