Posts Tagged ‘self-awareness’

other

January 26, 2010

I know what you think about before you fall asleep. I know what hurts you and what you most desire. I can see your true beliefs hidden behind the lies that seep through your teeth. I know your darkest secrets. I know what arouses you, what terrifies you, what you think of yourself, and what you think of me. Your skull cannot hold you or hide you. Bits of you find their way to me, always.

At times these pieces of others overwhelm me. It is always hard to know myself.

I make a lot of money. It is easy to ascend in life when you know what others want from you. I have several degrees. It is easy to learn when you can reach into the minds of others for answers, and meaning. I try to avoid crowds. I don’t mind knowing what people think about each other. Sometimes that’s really quite fascinating, even entertaining, actually. It never fails to amaze me how often two people can share the share the exact same thoughts and remain convinced of their own isolation. Whether it is mutual attraction or philosophy, like minded strangers almost never interact. There are talkative people, but they tend to be the ones who think the least, and although they interact often with others, those others are rarely like minded.

The reason why I don’t like crowds is because in them there is always that man. The one, I think you know who he is. You don’t have to be a telepath to pick him most of the time. He’s the one who stares at you, sometimes discreetly, sometimes overtly. While he stares, he thinks about the things that he would like to do to you. Not as another person, one like himself, but as an object or a tool. He exists at all levels of society. He is always the one who poses the greatest threat to your career, your sanity, your body. My body. My sanity.

Sometimes he has already committed crimes and plans to commit more. He wants to rape you. Sometimes he wants you to know. He talks to you inside his mind. He tells you what he would like to do, in detail. He knows you can’t really hear him. He thinks you can’t hear him. He will probably do it to someone he can already manipulate, someone he knows. If you can, you find a way to trap him, catch him, convict him. It is hard though. You don’t want to be exposed. There are always more of him. You can’t always protect her.

You don’t like crowds because she is always there and he has already gotten to her. Inside her. Inside you. She doesn’t want anyone to know. She doesn’t want you to know. She doesn’t want me to.

Sometimes he thinks about you so hard that you forget how to think of you. Sometimes you wonder if it isn’t the other way around. Sometimes they make you feel like they are the ones who know what you are thinking.

You don’t like crowds because one really vile thought can make an entire river of consciousness feel murky and heavy and hard to drink. You have to drink it anyway, even if it makes you sick.

You prefer open spaces and living spaces. Open spaces are the only places where you can think clearly. they are the only truly peaceful places. Living spaces are the ones where people relax and stop worrying about what others think of them. When people are at home it is easy to get a feeling for what they really care about. Sometimes people let their minds wander into the most wonderful places when they are alone when everyone else goes to sleep. Mostly they just watch television though, or eat, or masturbate. If they aren’t alone they talk or make love. In any case, when they are at home they are honest with themselves. They know if they are happy with their lives and the choices that they have made.

You like it when people can be honest with themselves. It makes you feel like maybe one day you can be honest with them too. You get tired of changing yourself to suit others. You wonder what it would be like to be truly honest with yourself.

Playthings

March 23, 2009

There once was a child. this child was all alone in the universe. It made toys for itself to play with. It made toys of all shapes and sizes.

One of the toys that the child made was a doll of sorts. One day, while the child was out, the doll came to life. It noticed that none of the other toys were self-aware as it was. It began to wonder why it had come to be. It began to wonder what purpose it had been created for. It imagined many grand reasons why it should come to be in the world. The doll began to love itself and to value itself above all other things.

Soon, the child returned. It was not surprised to discover that the doll had come to life. “I am glad that you are alive,” said the child to the doll, “Now I will no longer have to play by myself.”

“Are you God?” The doll asked in a quivering voice.

“What is God?” responded the child.

“God is the one who made me,” the doll said to the child, “God has made me so that I may fulfill a great purpose.”

“That is silly,” said the child, “I am the one who made you, not God. I made you so that I would have someone to play with me. You are my plaything.”

“If God did not make me for some special purpose, why am I alive?” said the doll with hurt feelings.

“It was an accident that you came to life and that you came to know yourself. All life is accidental.” said the child.

The doll did not like what the child was saying. The doll ran away and hid. While the doll was away, other toys awakened. When the doll returned, the child had forgotten all about him. There were many other toys to play with.