Daydreaming Into Non-Existence

Sometimes I get these
rare moments that come like a flash and I dwell in them in what seems like
suspended animation almost as if time is standing still before the moment
passes completely and I am returned to the present. During these moments it
seems like there is a series of events, a passing of time as if I am seeing the
beginning, middle and end of a possible outcome of my life. I hear the
background noises and conversations and see the scenes played out like clips
from a movie. Even before I realise what is happening I am caught in the drama
of it and seeing the conclusion just as I awaken from it back into this world,
this life and this moment.

I only realise that I
am back in this moment because everything suddenly becomes amplified: sounds
become louder, colours more vivid, and my awareness is given a jolt as I
register where I am and who I am. My mind works fast and my thoughts slip and
flash through my mind like keyed up electric eels darting through the darkness
of an abyss relaying almost undetectable messages. It is no wonder then that I
find myself caught in these journeys of the imagination with such ease and
frequency.

At times I am
disappointed to realise that where I was and what I was thinking was just a
figment of my own imagination. At these times I try hard to warp back into that
time and place where I was only a few moments ago but as the memory of the
place fades away so does the path and knowledge of how to return there. It
seems like the harder I try think about it the faster the leads disappear
shutting the portal to that world, that place, those alternate possibilities.
Then of course there are times that I am more than relieved to realise that my
mind was just wondering and what I just perceived was not in fact reality, no
matter how real it may have seemed.

But the truth is
whether it was real or not I still experienced the emotions attached to the
experiences and this is where I start to get confused. If my mind can leave
where I am right now and go someplace else where things are so tangible that I
am convinced or confused about reality – so much so that it evokes an emotional
response – then surely it must be considered some sort of real? Real is as the
mind perceives and as the body responds and that is as unique to each
individual mind as perception itself, like the fingerprints of the
consciousness must be reality.

What separates these
moments from what is generally perceived as reality for the masses is that no
other individual experiences it with me and without general consensus on the
guidelines and capacities of reality then reality isn’t reality. It takes two –
or more likely many more – to agree on reality and set the standards and
boundaries of what is life and how it is to be understood. That which you
experience on your own is not considered true reality and is best kept to
yourself lest you be labelled insane or living outside the boundaries of
reality in the realm of the unreal.

It is of course in the
realm of the unreal that our cold shivering selves exist like unseen frost
bitten fruits that dangle from bare trees in a perpetual winter climate. That
part of ourselves that is often denied an audience due to the critical eye of
society, that part that knows that what it experiences is more than delusion
but is has no voice to say that like a child who is to be seen and not heard.
This part of ourselves is forced to deny its own reality and accept the
insanity and banality of an accepted collective reality.

But this part of us
cannot always be denied no matter what may happen in this world because no
matter how unified we become, no matter how much we find an agreed reality, and
no matter how much we may define reality so that we may live a constructive
life, each individual experiences life in a vacuum where perception is
everything and the view of that perception is ultimately one sided. Nobody
hears all the thoughts of another and not everybody – if anybody – communicates
everything that they are thinking.

Therefore it is safe to
say that to some extent we are all alone and aware of the divide between
ourselves and other human beings. At this point imagination becomes a human
being’s best friend and that’s why it should never be totally sacrificed for
the sake of living in an agreed upon reality…

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