A Stream of Thoughts – #1

I would like to say I’m a deep thinker, not to derive any pride from it, just to give me more of a sense of self.
However, I hope and believe that most people think these things I have written below every now and then, and if not, here they are for all to see.
On Consciousness
(After scratching my foot on concrete)
The minute the pain came, I felt that my pain mattered. It affected everyone around me. My pain was the group’s pain. Once I mentioned the bleeding scratch, others would say, “Ooo… Ouch, I’m sorry about that.”
“Need a band-aid so it won’t get infected?” Someone might ask.
But… Why should my pain matter? To the collective group it shouldn’t. Separated by thought and flesh, no one else feels the temporary burning pain.
Only I do.
It’s much like the pain of one man for the greater good of the group. My sacrifice.
Only because of empathy, sympathy, and language do minds collide and bridge the gap of space and flesh to the moment where they understand how I feel.
Which brings me to the next thought:
On Language
Language is everything. It’s my belief that we can’t remember when we were infants because our minds couldn’t connect and analyze the objects around us. English is my first language, and to me, as mentioned in my previous post, each word, how look and sound, literally embody the meaning they are symbolizing.
It’s just a bunch of curves and angles. A, a triangle. O, a circle. I, a line.
But they mean things.
How can I pick up a book and fall in love with characters and experience emotional highs and lows when I’m just staring at a bunch of symbols? It’s incredible!
These sounds we make with our vocal cords… Vibrations of air… They mean things to everyone around. A word like “stop” can save a life. A speech can move a crowd. If aliens existed with no verbal language, our speech would be a babbling like that of an infant to them.
On Time
We’re just a bunch of conscious beings traveling through time.
To me, life began 19-ish years ago. I was plummeted into a life, culture, and world that supposedly has been moving through time much longer than 19 years.
To me life had always been a consciousness since 1997. How freaky is it to think how people have lived and died before my time?
Years are going by faster now for me, but millenniums of time are huge. How did they go by eventually? An hour can seem like forever on poor days.
What are the chances I would be someone living in the 21st century?
I dream of living in the past, where there was less anxiety or at least fewer modern stresses like driving or working in retail or going to college. No knowledge of modern life.
Still, I appreciate modern life. There’s a lot I am dependent on and a lot that is a gift to me rather than, in reality, a logical series of machinery progress like the ability to wear glasses or the ability to end up in another state within hours. I can’t help but feel pride for the gifts given, but I’m sure my kids will wonder how I managed before their supposedly modern life.
Time goes by quickly.
I dread certain events, knowing they will pass eventually, but I have to live through them first. Every minute. Every hour. I have to suffer through it.
I know my consciousness will find itself in another moment very soon….. Here I am now. Am I truly myself if I can never slam on the brakes and stop for once? To be one version of myself in one nanosecond of life? Instead, my being is stuck inside the prison of time and space, forced to keep walking. Keep breathing. Keep moving.
I know my life will has been and will be a series of cliched emotions. Moments of life that I hope and believe will happen. The day I first spoke. The day I first walked. The day I first drove. The day I graduated. The first day of college.
And many days yet to come.
Is that so bad though? Is there a meaning and climax to my story I can find fitting and satisfying? With this rapid movement of time, I will never appreciate a satisfying ending like that of a good book.
I don’t know if I would say it has to do with say: “I’m 3. One year is one-third of my life vs being 20 and one year being one-twentieth of my life, thus causing each succesent year being shorter than the next.”
Most days, kids experience fun filled days with innocent joy that causes the day to pass rapidly, while, most adults are stuck in classes or work places where the slow ticking clock is their mortal enemy.
I feel I remember more of my childhood than I do my teenage years. There’s more to remember. Maybe it’s because the world was new. I was learning new words every day. It might have been because there was stuff to do all the time.
As a teen, restrictions were made. Can’t go in the play place. Have to sit still. School is longer. Learn how to do boring adult chores like mowing the lawn.
The years are going by faster because there isn’t as much to remember when I look back in retrospect. Not as many interesting moments of fun or learning.
Which is very depressing. In this moment, in this version of myself, my life and boredom matter. This day matters to me. But will I remember it? Is it filled with routines I do every day?
Unfortunately I probably won’t remember today.
Hopefully I did not end on a very sad note. There will most likely be thoughts like this to come if you guys enjoyed this.
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2 Comments Add yours

  1. MBTI MANIA says:

    I once had an epiphany and thought, “wow, each day could be an amazing adventure.” But I thought about it some more and couldn’t think of how I could make it an adventure. The days are either locked up in routine or lost by wondering what to do with the 24 hours allotted to us. And then the irony of routine is that you kind of want it just because it makes you feel more productive. And the irony of adventure is that it’s a predominantly imagined thing, not really something you can grasp and enjoy, not unless you incorporate a great deal of imagining into the world around you.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Dearest timetravelinghobbit

    I discovered your blog long before I even thought of getting a WordPress account. I have now come here to tell you that I love the way you write. You really make me think. I’ve spent days thinking over your articles, and I look forward to a new post every time. Thank you for alleviating my occasional boredom and entertaining me.

    Love from a fellow INFP.

    Liked by 1 person

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