Other times I wonder what I am.
I don’t feel I was meant to be kept in this body. Now, I haven’t taken care of this body as much as I probably ought to have, but that’s not what I mean. I feel that this body is restrictive; it places limitations on me that needn’t be there. I don’t want to be stuck in this body; there is so much I can’t do, because of the rules governing the physical world, and the way this thing that houses my consciousness behaves in it. In this body, I must wait for some laborious period of time just to go someplace. Often I cannot go there at all. I want to fly away, fly to any person I know and be with them. And I want to know what they are thinking; how they feel. Thoughts don’t like to leave the heads they’re born in, and I will never know many of the worlds people live in.
Words are a possible medium, but often insufficient. Words, though, are not the problem. The problem comes with the people whose thoughts I wish to share. Trust is a key. Trust is something earned through consistent behavior; I feel I have gained the trust of my friends, for they talk to me about things they are going through. How have I been consistent with them? I am, I suppose, a good listener, and I fancy myself a giver of good advice. Perhaps people just need someone to talk to, who won’t tell others (lack of trust?) about these things. What are people afraid of? The fear of rejection cannot be so great; or is it? Is this truly the greatest fear of man? Perhaps it is a natural extension of our greatest aspiration: love. If so, does trust, then, equal love?
What is the quality of love, as it pertains to the loved? And how can this be achieved? Why do I feel an intense desire to love, but no particularly driving need to be loved (it is nice, to be sure, but the compulsion to love seems much stronger than the desire to be loved). Trust. Gained through consistency. But how have I been consistent? I have done very little, physically. Is this why I long to leave my body and simply exist for people? By ‘people’, do I really mean the whole of humanity? or do I really just want to keep to my own circle of friends (or, rather, odd polygon, as my friends hardly constitute a ‘circle’)?
Will I ever be free? Do others feel these same things, or am I unique (or even a minority)? And, if others – many others – are the same, why have I not seen it? Have I merely been too focused on my self that I’ve missed others? Or are others afraid of revealing what they are (as, I must admit, am I)? Am I really afraid of telling people what I am (or, rather, what I am like, since I’m not sure what I am, myself)? Oughtn’t I be writing more poetry? Isn’t that what expression like this is for? I suppose it doesn’t matter what the medium is, as long as the proper thoughts can be communicated. Will they be communicated correctly? I’m sure I’ll read this when I’m done typing it, and feel that I understand what I wrote, but that will be because I wrote it. Will anybody else be able to truly understand what I am talking about? Does it matter? Perhaps this is just an exercise in self-examination, doing more good for me than for anyone who might read it.
What am I?
I feel like I’m not supposed to be like this.
Many people have lashed out against a society they believed was unjust. Can it be than all human, earthly societies fail because they use humans in human bodies, who cannot properly interact with one another? Is this what is the problem? Sometimes I feel normal. Sometimes I go from event to event in my day without giving a second thought to the innermost nature of myself. Is that, then, the true me? Or is it the ‘me’ I am supposed to feel I am; the ‘me’ that can fit into society, run the laps, jump through the hoops, and vote for which end of the egg is up? Very few things have value inherent to their natures; they are productivity and love. And, of course, productivity may just be an expression of, or a prerequisite for love. Or perhaps this is merely a nuisance requirement necessitated by the world, the imperfect world, that we live in.
I’d like to think not. Adam and Eve seemed rather happy, but I suspect they would have eventually went off and built a hut or something. They would get bored otherwise, wouldn’t they? Or would they? Perhaps, with nothing getting in the way of their relationship, there would be no room for boredom. I suppose relationships consist largely of learning about another person. What, then, would there be once you ‘figured out’ another person entirely? Would you bore of them? Or would you continue interacting with them? Is it possible to learn all about someone in the first place? I would assume so, provided you were given enough time. Or do people change? Do they? What is it that prevents relationships from crashing into boredom? People like pets. The puppy next door can’t possibly have much on its mind, and yet its owners take care of it, and my sisters find it adorable. A puppy isn’t hard to figure out, is it? What am I? I feel, and I want to do, but there is little I can do, or confusion surrounding what I should do. I’m not even sure about what it is I feel.