the thing behind it.

exerpt from OUROBOROS: III – The Watchers

Alex Sunderland :

I am being confronted by a discouraging and uncomfortable realization. As I scroll down through the posts, links, and photos that populate the various newsfeeds on the platforms through which I consume social media, it hit me. These shape how I view events in my life. This is what I think is going on. What’s most important. What’s real. And most of it is negative and depressing. It shapes how I feel and it shapes how I treat others and how I make them feel. I’m still writing this as I’m figuring it out and working through it. I feel like I’m only just barely treading through this stream of consciousness and take in its meaning all while waves of information keep slapping me under. Each waves brings greater clarity, mind you, but each time the next one crashes over me the landscape of the stream is altered. Hmmm, reading this back make me sound insane. I’m pretty sure I’m not, but bear with me. Maybe we’ll know at the end . . . Okay, so a moment ago my mind just gave out and is kind of rebooting. While that’s happening and I pick up where that thought ended, I’m going to ponder why that awareness took so long to recognize it. Once my brain reboots of course. Then I’m sure I’ll decipher its meaning, or at least I hope I will) Why didn’t I see it? Hmmm. Forest for the trees I guess, right? Although, it… It? Before it wasn’t an it. It just was, and maybe it got tired of waiting on my coming to its awareness on my own. I see it now though. (I finished rebooting) It. A thing. A being. A purposeful entity, trying to passive-aggressively influence change while at the same time evading the consequences of intervening in a direct and measurable way in our 4% universe. I do think its’ impatience and exasperation elected to disregard any possible rules that may have kept it from intervening before. Now it screams to me. It screams an irritated and disappointment. Not in English. Possibly a precursor to language as homo-sapiens understand language. A means of communicating, unworldly to us in this 4% universe we like to think contains everything, though to it, this precursor language might be a rudimentary, pig-latin-like bastardization of pure communication that it is forced to use in a desperate attempt to communicated with such uncomplicated beings that inhabit the 4% universe. Hmm, yah, this makes me sound insane. I don’t think I am, but then again, I wouldn’t right? I don’t feel insane. Although, I’m not sure what that feels like. It’s the way I’ve always felt . . . so maybe I’ve always been insane and I just thought that was what normal felt like. Then what would sanity feel like to someone who is insane? . . . . hmmm, I don’t really wanna think about that right now. . . . okay, anyway, please bear with me, I am going somewhere. Really I am. I’m still trying to articulate what may not be possible at all. But I’m going to try really hard. I guess, I could liken it to being one complete concept; formally existing as abstract, corporeal information imprinted inside the purposeful electricity sparking about my mind, (but since growing impatient with my inability to understand or to see it on my own) it gathered itself together to puncture its way into my material universe and assume tangible form. Though not physically visible, but a kind of cognitive visibility, which I argue is as equally as real and as artificial as the five answers we’d need to scribble down to award us full marks on the standardized tests by which we define an individuals intelligence and ultimately what role they are intelligent enough to perform in the machinery of homo sapien society. Anyway, this isn’t a rant on institutional education, I’m getting further and further away, but I’m trying to get back. . . . Okay, so that moment, I saw it. That’s a good point for us to reconnect. I saw (but didn’t, but did) it thrash its’ arms around in exasperated impatience, trying to flag down my . . . hmmm . . . okay, another thought I believe I am failing at articulating coherently (and I’m sure this entry will likely be interpreted as powerful confirmation that I am mentally ill. That’s all. Here, purchase this pill. And maybe a padded jacket. Probably a padded jacket. But don’t forget those pills. That’ll be a monthly cost that will come out of your paycheque after rent, food, gas, car insurance, car payment, utilities, taxes, uh, yah but if you wanna feel better you’re gonna have to pay us for that though. We don’t want you to be mentally ill, ‘cause you might mess with the normal people, but yah, you’re gonna have to pay out of pocket ‘cause yah, the pharmaceutical companies want to see profits in the next quarter higher than they were this last quarter. Thank you and come again (and again and again and again). Okay, wow, now I’m off again. Alright, that cord was here somewhere . . . oh, there it is. Okay so it was waving and I saw (or didn’t see, but did) well, I did. I did see it. And peeking out from behind it, was something that had followed through the punctured skin into the 4% universe. I wonder if it could see the thing behind it. I’m sure it did. But the thing behind it (though smaller) was louder and got my attention first. The thing behind it was the realization that this experience (MY experience) would be dismissed as some mental hallucination that needed to be flushed out with pharmaceutical chemicals (but only the ones that would boost profits in the next quarter, don’t self medicate . . . that would hurt our profits) If you’ve read this far, in my mind, you are still reading for one of a few possible reasons. Possibly, you wanna see exactly how nutty and irrational my rant will become, or your feeling pity and sadness and you’re staring at the screen with your head tilted to one side and your eyebrows scrunched up like hairy sloped roof of some empathic house. There’s probably a lot of reasons you might still be reading actually, but maybe you read this and you understand. Maybe you read this and you relate or you see something in this that reminds you of someone close to you. I don’t think I’m insane though. But maybe sanity is more of a spectrum than it is an absolute. Maybe I’m swinging along on the pendulum that arcs its way back and forth to extremes, and right now I’m swinging to one side. (I’m just not sure which side) But . . . maybe I am only experiencing some misfiring spark of arcing electricity that buzzes through an incorrect channel through to the third eye as if it were some existential taxi with a corrupted gps navigation system. Okay, that was the final tangent. I promise. (as much as someone like me can promise something) When I finally acknowledged the physical, yet invisible, complete and concentrated concept that resided inside it (equally real and unreal, true and untrue, sanity and fantasy) I was engulfed in the bright flares of awareness that suddenly mindful of the malevolent dark thread of subtle, manipulating  weaves through my newsfeed. And I realized this darkness that colors my perception is completely self-imposed. I am the architect of the information I consume. I decide to subscribe or to follow users that contribute to my experience of reality. I can see the thread clearly now. Just like it. Real and unreal. Physical and immaterial. The thread connects each sad piece of the collage of meticulously crafted information that exists to serve a specific purpose and a specific segment of homo sapiens who benefit from said information. I realized, I need to start a newsfeed negativity cull. **and further along this tangent, (I know I promised, but I might be insane) I hope I’m not contributing to that same negativity by the posts on my own timeline. I only endeavor to promote discussion regarding relevant issues and ideas. I know in the past I’ve taken a more antagonistic approach to how I relay those points and I now know that my intentionally offensive and combative attitude only ended up charging the animosity between opposing views and only made the other side close themselves off even more from ideas. And regretfully, my original purpose of facilitating discussion by poking the snake really only served to bolster the stereotype of the cynical, condescending, pretentious liberal atheist, jerking off his ego while reciting irrelevant and impotent words with the self-satisfied delusion of significance. I had once believed that that role I’d scripted for my online persona was helpful, possibly even important and courageous, but I’m one person. One person with one subjective experience of our 4% universe. I don’t know shit. You shouldn’t listen to me. But you also shouldn’t listen to anyone. We make our reality. My telling you what MY reality is shapes and distorts your perception of reality. No ones interpretation of this 4% sliver of physical reality is any more or less valid than anyone else, but none are the same. We are all arguing about different subject truths that we have witnessed and experienced and are devoutly and unfalteringly sure of what we have experienced with our five, socially accepted senses. In all this, my intent was not to discourage or dishearten. This should empower and encourage. Or you finished this rant and you’re more than confident that I’m insane. I’d like to know if I’m insane, though. But I’m pretty sure I’m not insane.