Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste.

When I was younger and in my hardcore Christian phase, I was really into the poem "Footprints". The whole walking along the beach, life flashing before your eyes as a movie, reliving every moment thing, and the 'surprise' ending where the person asks God why there's only one set of footprints on the beach during the hard times, and the person thinks they were walking alone during the hard times when in actuality God or Jesus was carrying them through the difficult life experiences. I was really into that idea -- the concept that we can't really fathom how difficult and crushing life can be and that we need omnipotent benevolence just to survive.

I'm still obsessed with such ideas, but now I often look in a broader context and focus more on the concept of perception. When too obsessed with the microcosm, I examine the macrocosm and vice versa. I'm occasionally fond of stepping outside of myself and contacting the future me to consult with how I will later react to a scenario. I'm certainly no fortune teller with a vision of the future, but I have an okay idea of how I'll end up telling a story in the future, even as the events are currently unfolding.

Lately I've been obsessed with a strange thought -- whenever I'm sitting and daydreaming, my mind wanders back to it, fixating on it. The idea that every experience that has occured before the present, before this exact moment, is no more or less real than all the experiences that are to follow. The concept of memory versus future experiences and plans. I'm not saying they're both pointless, I'm just thinking they are exactly the same in importance, one is not greater than the other, and when I'm feeling imbalanced is when I put more on one. If I'm dwelling in the past, I feel off, or if I'm wallowing in wasted potential or concern for future actions, I get upset.

I always liked the idea of the only conrete knowledge we have of time and space is "now" and "here". Everything is completely and absolutely relative with no static beginning or ending that we know or experience. It's fucking scary but I love it. It doesn't make me feel like life is pointless -- it just reminds me that I take things way to fucking seriously for someone who's pretty damn clueless. I obviously can't live in this large state for too long because who would do my laundry and bathe and feed me and where would the money to do these things come from?

So oftentimes I feel like the universe is humoring me: here, boy, go work on these little projects to occupy your time so that your brain doesn't explode from the sheer expansion of the universe.

And actually it's sort of comforting.