Sometimes it's nice to come back. I find awareness again, where my actions are deliberate and purposeful, and I wonder, "It's nice to be back, but if I wasn't here, where have I been?" This series of events operates in a small cycle spanning maybe a couple days to several months, or so it seems. It's increasingly difficult to keep track of time. I wonder if I have always had such difficulty, but wasn't able to see it until recently. A lot of life feels like that; in a lesser sort of way, I experience things for the first time almost frequently. Coming to the point where I realize my time is limited, and putting priority where I can to affect what i can in positive ways during my short stay, certain things have fallen from having any sort of importance at all. I was a joke, a laugh, a clown. I hated it, but it was the only place I fit, as determined by the other kids my age. There were few who saw this - saw my plight to blend in and be a normal kid nobody noticed, but sadly, we were a short minority. Sometimes I wonder if I had the benefit of spending my healing years without guidance and in an environment where I had to fight in order to not be belittled and put down intentionally. I used to think so. During the time, it was survival, and it was every single day.
There was so much pressure to have some miraculous recovery, and I quickly sensed numerous peoples' impatience and intolerance with the way my mind was functioning at that time, during that first couple years of healing. I found, quickly, that where recovery and rehabilitation take a very long time, emulating the behaviors of the rest of the class was pretty easy, though there were times when I was singled out and exposed as the fraud that I was. I fucked some things up, severely, and some of the mistakes I made, I will never have the opportunity of making right. For so much of that time, the first years, I was absent more than I was there. I'd come to, like I am today, and blink and shake my head and say, "What the fuck? Where have I even been?"
There's something additionally complicated about this, and that is that I still have those moments of realization and 'coming back' to the present now, but from what I've been able to gather, I wasn't actually missing. Tant mieux! I was never one to back down from a confrontation, but those who took advantage of the medical handicap, then and now, I loathe the thought that I considered you friends. I despise the "forgiveness" that I offered freely during the time I was taken advantage of. I was fooled by promises unfulfilled and misled by the suggestion of faith.
On a related note, I read an article by a child psychologist who suggests the smartest thing for children, the wisest thing to do for their happiness and health, is to never play a charade about Santa Claus, to teach them that it's absurd, but some people tell their kids that, and "How is one guy supposed to deliver all those presents, anyway?" It's honest, and evokes thought; they won't be sad about it - they still get the presents, they just came from a different source, so he claims. It's an interesting thought. This year I am going to pay attention to how my kids refer to Santa and see if they're wow'ed by the magic, or if it's a fantastic story, or if it's really just the presents. Why do we lie to our kids? Why do we lie to each other? Why do we make up stories about men in the sky and staying on the 'good' list so you get told promises of getting more stuff, or being better than other people, or living forever?
I believed I would have a comfortably paying job for a good company, that I would be using my skills, mostly enjoying the work that I do. I believed it because I was told it was the truth because of faith in God. I know you don't think you make much, but trust me - you can't get any lower than where I am. I was told and I believed that as long as I maintained my faith through even when it would seem to go against my interests to do so, that this would be rewarded and that my life would be an example of trusting in that which cannot be seen. I was encouraged to believe that what looked like an unwise decision to - anyone, everyone - was a wise one if made with faith, and that the act of operating on faith principle would be rewarded. I am not near perfect, and I have not always made the best choices, but my faith was always important to me. Even during a stretch of time when having a belief system would have been heavily frowned upon, I maintained my faith. I saw places where those affiliated with some faith were targeted and ridiculed. And I didn't always voice my faith, it would have been not short of stupid to do so at times. I believed at times that voicing my devotion would put my life in danger. Just the same, there was always that fixed point to which I could return. Whether it was (true, pure, as defined by the church) or imaginary, it was my lifeline.
I've since grown up and taken responsibility for my actions. The truth is that whether or not an omniscient third party could manipulate even time for the purposes of truly honest forgiveness, it doesn't in the world I live in. Sure, maybe at any moment, the whole of everything is staged down to the last details of the history of an individual person, object, event. That shouldn't be a challenge for a sentient being that created life and wins football games with a snap of its fingers.
At the moment just prior to the moment of impact, I had an awakening. My will put me hitting the car the way I did; targeting the hood and windshield at the moment of impact may have saved my life.
Was I supposed to live? I'd say 'yes' solely because I am here. If I prayed to god about my plans to do this, I can say with absolute sincerity and understanding that's not directly what saved me, if it had anything to do with it at all. (To explain, if prayer gave me an honest look at the potentials of the situation and the danger involved, it may have influenced my decision to change my target at the last moment. GOD DID NOT INTERVENE WITH ANY DIVINE SPECTRAL MANIPULATION OF THE PLANET BECAUSE I AM ANY SORT OF IMPORTANT NOR FOR ME TO HAVE A STORY TO TELL.
[BASE!] is a crazyskills labs experiment displaying poetry, fiction, and nonfiction of our community. This space is not a catch-all for everything everyone's ever written, but rather a carefully selected offering of works which the authors find particular for one reason or another. We think of relevant work as eccentric, yet purposeful. This crazyskills lab is propped up by a small team of engineers with plenty else to do. At present, we're looking for just a few particularly exceptional human persons who share a similar dream in writing, in practice, or in spirit. If this sounds like something you'd like to be a part of in any way, please send an email to one of the contacts listed. We're excited to hear from you. From the start, this is entirely a voluntary project, though there may be financial opportunity through this work in the future. Thank you for being here! I am energized by what I anticipate in us working together.
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