My True self

I have never seen life through the same lenses as my peers. I have always felt detached and far removed from this reality. I always felt that my true age and nature was betrayed by my young body. The feeling that everything in this world is mundane, that I've been there and done it all. I think a lot of teens feel like they know it all. Though I am no longer a teen, everything I have done has a certain familiarity to it. even when encountering bizarre or traumatic events I'm not sure how to respond, I feel un-phased. maybe it's the madness I try to lock away in my mind. I have seen my own death countless times. I see the moment of my death in crystal clarity, then live that moment up to the point of my death. I change the choices I make in my day dream and here I am still breathing. It doesn't seem real, or maybe the spatters of gore are all I have encountered from lives already lived. Maybe it is the way that insanity enforces self-preservation on its victims.

Maybe the insanity is one of the reasons I turned to war. What better environment for a chaotic mind to thrive in. For war, itself is a whirling maelstrom of chaos, and I wanted to stand in the eye.

The only time I feel like I am not just a passenger in my own body, or detached from reality is when the bullets fly, explosions ring in my ears or when my life is balancing precariously on the cusp of destruction. Life comes into me with a blazing clarity my senses heightened with a cold calculating focus. Time seems to stand still while a make a dozen calculated movements. It feels like I adjust my reality. I tell the bullets where to land. I duck to the side and let the bullets slip aside. The business of war for me is an unemotional impersonal affair. A contest of wills. Though for me losing does not matter, as I am just an observer caged in a shell of flesh and once the last bullet ripples through the air. All pieces of my stretched perception of time are put back into place. Everything resumes and myself and stream of consciousnesses retire back behind my eyelids to let the autopilot resume.

My mind is constantly in motion. It never slows, and when I ready myself for the land of dreams, my thoughts reach fever pitch. I argue with myself reply in rebuttal and agree all within the swirling chaos that is my mind. I play through the events of my life that have led up to this point watching them in the theater of the mind, and events yet to unfold.