Wednesday, February 29, 2012

I'm a humanist, which is a term I first heard from Kurt Vonnegut in the 1990's. He explained humanism as treating people really well, like "Proper Christians," even if you don't believe in God.

I'm something similar, but the other direction. I have faith, believe knowingly, that other realities do exist, but since I possess no provable way of getting to a different reality, I behave how I want other people to behave, under the circumstances, in this one.

I try to do good because I know it is the right thing to do, regardless of where I am.
There's a reality, I have to believe, where every single thing is as beautiful as log chopping as the sun rises behind thin clouds on an unusually warm spring morning.

. . . but I do not want to live in it.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

I'm breaking cover by posting this, but its barely breaking cover, you'll see.

You see, I'm a firm believer in day dreaming, and a firm believer in the quantum simulation of reality view of the universe. I believe there are an infinite number of other universes, and that everything that can possibly happen, has, is and will again.

I sometimes see this at what smarter men than me have termed nodes. There are bigger and smaller nodes, but generally, they are life choices that once made will change the way you live the rest of your life.

Salad or burger for lunch, or skip lunch all together?

There's the story about Buddy Holly losing a coin toss so not dying in a plane crash.

That gets into hidden power nodes; nodes of great potential direction change that appear small when they're happening. That's a different entry, though.

Look. Generally, you know with a high amount of certainty, or a growing amount that gets you through the day, what you're going to do. I mean you you, not you me. Me, I'm pretty random.

I think I am random because I am stuck, here's my mental curse, in what I've come to term a "Bleed Reality." Not bleed like a nose. Bleed like when you held the felt tip marker against the paper too long as a child and the color spilled out across the lines. Only, I'm living on those lines, and the colors are the choices --are the different markers, coloring in the picture that is my reality.

(That's another joy of quantum reality: for me this is a bleed reality, for you it could be the perfect fall to happiness reality. Again, another entry.)

My life, I see all these moments that didn't happen. They invade my night dreams, my day dreams, my waking life. I get to see some of the options that I was closest to, but didn't make.

I think, justify justify justify, this is why I have trouble with people's names. They're not always the same.

And why, sometimes, I just don't know what to say. My choices are less tightly tied to this reality, because I see all these other options.

Is this what "being a dreamer" means? I don't know.

Here, then, an example of two realities bleeding. Yesterday, I was supposed to have dinner with a friend. He called my office phone and apologetically cancelled. I know this happened. But. Then as I was leaving work I got this text:
See you at your office. Where's the best parking?
It's just such a solidly intended text, right? He's parking his car, we're getting dinner. But twenty minutes earlier he'd called and cancelled.

The skeptics could argue: poor reception, lazy signals, slowly updating sms. The joy of my delusion, though, is that they're right, but so am I, and I know that somewhere we had a great time catching up, reminiscing, then forging new plans of varying tenacity and probability.

We had a great time, just not in this reality.

Monday, February 27, 2012

People in 6th form called me an orphan, but I only choked up and glared.

I stayed at friend's houses, no more than three or four days at a stretch.

I threw up on hearing mom was coming home from the war early.

Dad died while her airplane circled, caught in a holding pattern above a spring lightning storm that knocked out our power for a week.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

i walked into the bar and punched the dumbest looking lout I saw.

his friends broke most of my ribs, but hey, I wouldn't be here if the lout'd lived.