I'm as convinced as I can be that there's another world which is either separate but connected to this one or an extension of this one but invisible or at least resistant to perception. I can feel the Other World sometimes. Often in fact. And I have since I was a little boy. Either part of it is in me or part of me is in it or I'm close to it in some other way.
I don't know the nature of the Other World. It's not an afterlife. It feels wild, dangerous, and even scary. Feeling it around me is at once frightening and fascinating. Like when I saw wild vultures up close while camping. I imagine that the Other World has deciduous forests like my home state but I don't know. I've never seen it or even dreamed about it. I can imagine anything but I don't want to imagine this. I want to be as close to the Other World as I can without fantasizing. Music helps sometimes. And portal fiction. My strong private feeling (meaningless I know) is that I'm from the Other World. My parents would disagree and their proof would be convincing. Maybe we can both be right. I don't know.
Despite the fact that I would like to escape this world, I'm not describing an escapist fantasy here. The Other World scares me and I am afraid of finally seeing it. I feel that it's something I'm genuinely perceiving. I definitely feel like a castaway. I have to do a DNA test for my psychiatrist and I wonder if my DNA will be anomalous. Like I'm inhuman. Of course not. But I don't feel like a human when I look at everyone else. Then I ask: Is this really us? Am I for having been born necessarily a part of all this strife? The hating ourselves as each other, obsessing about caste and foes, the million little wars? Shouting fear and demands for ever more force, power, and righteous violence? In a world of enemies ordinary love seems a miracle.
We are worth escaping. Whatever it is to be human I want no part of it. I want to be as inhuman as possible. I want to devalue purpose, to be empty, to stagnate, and to leave no legacy. To make nothing of myself. I don't care what others say about how I should conduct my life, about how I must assess myself, or about the importance of being in control. It doesn't matter what I value. I decline to evolve. I want to do nothing and to be blank. I want to be no one. There are no such things as value or authority and there is in fulfillment no end to desperation. Nothing is lost because nothing is important, even if I become meaningless to myself. On a long enough timeline, everything becomes obscure. Sacredness and profanity are each as easily forgotten.
From now on I will neither offer forgiveness nor seek vengeance nor expect justice because all are illusions. I will neither punish nor reward and I will have no preference. I will live in such a way that being right won't matter. My actions are nothing. I will leave no footprint. If you're nothing, you can be wrong. You can make no statements, ask no questions. Neither being nor ceasing to be. Pure experience without value judgements. Acceptance, rejection, loneliness, frustration, excitement, joy, all no more meaningful for being temporary than they would be if they were permanent. Because they are also illusions - as the self is an illusion. And neither permanence nor impermanence matter.
There's no philosophy here. I'm not a nihilist. The Other World isn't a framing device for my dissatisfaction with everything. Maybe if I reach that place there will be horror and I will despair. I may be as powerless there as I am here, or I may be strong and get what I want. In either world they are equal.
I don't know the nature of the Other World. It's not an afterlife. It feels wild, dangerous, and even scary. Feeling it around me is at once frightening and fascinating. Like when I saw wild vultures up close while camping. I imagine that the Other World has deciduous forests like my home state but I don't know. I've never seen it or even dreamed about it. I can imagine anything but I don't want to imagine this. I want to be as close to the Other World as I can without fantasizing. Music helps sometimes. And portal fiction. My strong private feeling (meaningless I know) is that I'm from the Other World. My parents would disagree and their proof would be convincing. Maybe we can both be right. I don't know.
Despite the fact that I would like to escape this world, I'm not describing an escapist fantasy here. The Other World scares me and I am afraid of finally seeing it. I feel that it's something I'm genuinely perceiving. I definitely feel like a castaway. I have to do a DNA test for my psychiatrist and I wonder if my DNA will be anomalous. Like I'm inhuman. Of course not. But I don't feel like a human when I look at everyone else. Then I ask: Is this really us? Am I for having been born necessarily a part of all this strife? The hating ourselves as each other, obsessing about caste and foes, the million little wars? Shouting fear and demands for ever more force, power, and righteous violence? In a world of enemies ordinary love seems a miracle.
We are worth escaping. Whatever it is to be human I want no part of it. I want to be as inhuman as possible. I want to devalue purpose, to be empty, to stagnate, and to leave no legacy. To make nothing of myself. I don't care what others say about how I should conduct my life, about how I must assess myself, or about the importance of being in control. It doesn't matter what I value. I decline to evolve. I want to do nothing and to be blank. I want to be no one. There are no such things as value or authority and there is in fulfillment no end to desperation. Nothing is lost because nothing is important, even if I become meaningless to myself. On a long enough timeline, everything becomes obscure. Sacredness and profanity are each as easily forgotten.
From now on I will neither offer forgiveness nor seek vengeance nor expect justice because all are illusions. I will neither punish nor reward and I will have no preference. I will live in such a way that being right won't matter. My actions are nothing. I will leave no footprint. If you're nothing, you can be wrong. You can make no statements, ask no questions. Neither being nor ceasing to be. Pure experience without value judgements. Acceptance, rejection, loneliness, frustration, excitement, joy, all no more meaningful for being temporary than they would be if they were permanent. Because they are also illusions - as the self is an illusion. And neither permanence nor impermanence matter.
There's no philosophy here. I'm not a nihilist. The Other World isn't a framing device for my dissatisfaction with everything. Maybe if I reach that place there will be horror and I will despair. I may be as powerless there as I am here, or I may be strong and get what I want. In either world they are equal.
Comments
Post a Comment