ON “COMPLEX” MINDS — Versus “Simple” Ones.

Reflection from March 7th, 2008 @ Age 26

RE:  TRUTH AND REALITY — IT JUST IS WHAT IT IS,  YOU KNOW?

You know what else is funny?  You know what else is curious?  The fact that I’ve been sitting here writing for almost one and a half hours, I’ve been sitting here writing these five pages.  I mean, I know other people have thoughts that cross their minds and whatnot, but I seriously do doubt that normal people are subject to anywhere near the extent of brain activity than am I. 

Moving on…ahh yes, a few days ago I was thinking that I must have been brought onto this earth for some special purpose, given the natural state of discomfort I’ve been subjected to here all of my life.  I just feel oftentimes like I do not belong here, I am not supposed to be here unless it’s for some very intricate and particular purpose, because otherwise placing me here would just be plain cruel.  I don’t know, it just seems, given my natural and everlasting state of discomfort on this earth and in this consciousness, that I was put into the wrong box.  I am the square peg trying to be forced into the round whole.  I simply do not fit, and yet here I am, in all my glory.  So it seems that my ending up here would be an immense act of cruelty unless I am here for some special purpose, a special purpose which justifies my continued existence despite the eternal pain.  It’s funny because I know in manic phases, mostly euphorically manic phases, one of the telltale signs of mania is feeling like you are a chosen one, like you were put here to perform a special purpose.  Well, I’m experiencing only slight mania at the moment, and mostly just the physical symptoms without the usually accompanying psychological symptoms, and I swear to god, at least in this moment, that the explanation I’ve written above, pretty much stating that I was put on this earth to fulfill a special purpose, sounds absolutely and completely logical to me.  It makes me wonder whether people will just think I’m crazy when they read this stuff, or whether they will begin to understand why this illness leads a person suffering from it to believe that they are on a mission to perform a particular purpose.  Even not yet knowing what that particular purpose will turn out to be, I must believe that I was put here for a reason, and that my continued existence amidst all the pain is therefore justified.

Anyways, the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize that I simply live on a completely different wavelength, a completely separate level of consciousness than do most average people.  I mean I’ve always felt like I was different from most other people, and for once I don’t think that conclusion was drawn merely from my head.  In other words, a lot of times I feel like I come up with conclusions and that they are entirely based on a romanticized ideal in my head, and not based upon the cold hard fact of reality.  And I do think that sometimes this is in fact the case.  But other times I believe my mental and emotional experience, while partly romanticized in my head, is in fact based upon what is tangible and what is real.  This reminds me of my whole Dave debacle, the debate in my head trying to figure out whether he really loved me, or whether this love was merely fabricated from a romantic whim within my own mind.  I know that Dave loved me in some way or another, he physically manifested his concern and interest, his affection for me (and I’m not just talking sexual here…keep your head out of the mud, will you?).  But at what point did my experience with reality detach and become one merely fabricated within my brain?  Or at what points shall I say?  Ohh boy, this is too deep for my fried brain at the moment, I’ll have to leave it at that!

Later

I keep thinking about this and the thing is, I don’t want to believe that the universe is either so arbitrary or so cruel to have placed me here in this chronically painful, emotionally painful position.  My existence is justified if it has a purpose, you see.  If there is no purpose, if my life is without purpose, then I live within either a completely cruel or completely arbitrary universe which really scares the hell out of me.  I need to have a purpose, you see.

Thoughts?

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