DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

8/2/20

Stream of Consciousness

What is a stream of consciousness?  Is it something that you can share with people?  Can people share a stream of consciousness with each other? 

Sometimes I wonder if I am going to lose the thing in me when I write that tells me what to write.  Is it me, or is it someone from heaven looking down telling me what to write?  How would I hide this?  would I need to hide it? 

Whenever I go to the doctor I always sit alone in the room for a while, waiting for the doctor to come am see me.  That time is like it is when you cross over from one realm to another, waiting for whatever will come your way.  Will the doctor give me the good to go to the next phase in me life?  Is everything ok?  Can I sit at home and write on my computer when it is all done, or would I need to take meds first?

Ten years ago, I would never have said the word, “meds.”  I heard it for the first time when I was fifteen and in the hospital, right when I was deemed as, “mentally ill.”  I had never really appreciated the realm that is inhabited by people that could be considered, “dorky.”  It kind of reminds me of the thing in “The Poltergeist,”  where the little girl is sucked into another realm by a tv- she sees the spirits of the dead people by which her and her family had had their house built over.  They got the little girl back by the Dad’s error- he pulled the rope even though the short psychic lady told him not to.   It makes me wonder what would have happened had he not pulled the rope.  Would they have lost the little girl forever?

A few minutes ago, there was metaphorical sweat running down my face in response to the idea that I wouldn’t be able to write something good.  Do I still have “it”?  My portfolio started years ago, before I thought, before anyone thought, that I had any talent.  I guess I feel kind of run down, but I also feel like I need something new in my life to get that interesting vibe of ideas to run through me.  I guess I could talk about me and my flash drive.  The one that I keep my stories, poems and academic work om is blue and black marble (not really- just a sticker).  A few moments ago, my worst fear was that it would fall on the ground and I would be screwed- if it picked up any of that orange paint that I had walked on a few hours ago.  I was just walking down the street, on a sidewalk, and out of nowhere a bunch of blotches of orange paint had been scattered over the sidewalk.  Some people just walked over it, and I didn’t want to feel left out, so I did too- and now I heavily regret it, even though the metaphorical thing in me says that it meant something.  Did I cross over from one realm to another when I walked over the twenty feet or so of orange paint?  What does it mean?  Did some crazy damned person from hell appear out of thin air at two am last night and spray it, just to terrorize people? 

I am coming the end of the page.  Should I write to the half of the next one?  The thing in me says to keep on going, but I just get so mentally lazy when I am not stimulated, and it feels like I need some type of fuel that appears out of nowhere that makes me write, even if you think it isn’t good.  Can someone come back from another life to be the exact opposite?  Where did that come from, you ask?  Oh, it is what someone just said when they drove by in their car, trying to brainwash me.  JK (just kidding)- but would I believe someone if they did that- if they said that?  Would I just say they were crazy, or would I allow them to say what they want to say, even if it was based off selfish wants and needs?  Who was really meant to take over the world?   Who was meant to save the world?  Are these two people meant to be different, or would something happen to make them join as one, so that to be able to do the opposite, making their titles more efficient? 

Oh, look, I got to the next page.  I really want to throw out the paper plate on my coffee table, but I am too lazy- or is it that I think it was destined to be further used?  I was hoping to get some fruit from the fridge and eat it before I go to bed, but it just reminds me of the rest of the stuff in their that I don’t want to eat because it doesn’t please that opposite thing that exists outside of me.  I hope to find a means, one day, to resolve my emptiness, however unpleasing it may be to others, like you.  Are you judging me?  Do you think I am crazy?  Are you wondering who I am trying to talk to?  I usually don’t talk about that stuff unless it changes. 

My new favorite (one of them) song is on Pandora- Melt- and  the lyrics remind me of high school, but the beat reminds me of other times, times during which I had become free, when I became something I thought I could never be.  Some people think this is BS, that this is just a means of covering up something unfair that happened, but I know if I wouldn’t have changed, I wouldn’t ever be free- not even in the next life. 

My favorite part in The Matrix is when the Oracle tells Neo that he is not the “One”: that he has the gift, but he may not be the “One” until the next life.  That scene is the best because it makes me feel like I am dreaming- not just that kind of a dream that makes you feel happy, but that type of dream that only happens once in a great while where you are introduced to something new that will change your life forever.  It sounds cliché, but I live for that stuff, and I wake up every day waiting to see that.  I think people are introduced to that when they transfer to another realm, so does that mean I was supposed to see something like that tonight?  Maybe that thing in me that tells me what to write comes from that, and a lot of people have that thing in their own special way. 

I wonder what kind of cookies the Oracle made.  I wonder why I was so amazed by the part where the oracle predicted that Neo would knock over the vase of flowers.  I wonder if I would ever be able to bend a spoon with my mind, and I wonder why I was so amazed to the explanation the little girl gave to Neo as to how to bend a spoon with one’s mind.  Will everyone be able to do stuff like that in the future?  Only that thing in you that knows- knows.

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.