XII — I get flashbacks of war
I get flashbacks of war. But I wasn’t there. It disturbs me when I get a flash of a green field or some happy laborers working on the land. Something I understand as a common concern; an ideal that our culture shares. I don’t get glimpses of the future and I worry that time can run backwards and forwards but only up to here. I feel this connect to the rest of the universe that flows through me. Every now and then the connect opens up and it’s all for one. It’s for me! It’s a comfort because it means all those people I left are still here. Then I remember: it’s all an illusion I throw up to make ‘here’ here.
There has to be a point to it; at least, I need a point. So I created this universe. There was nothing here before me. There’s nothing when I’m gone and all the stuff in between is my own creation. I, as creator, determined that I would experience this particular existence with all what I decided to call ‘human values’. I had a get-out clause. I can commit suicide at any time or even get killed or die ‘naturally’ and this current existence ends. I can’t remember what comes next but I don’t have to. When I get there, what comes next will be ready and waiting. I created that too. But the beauty of it is that I programmed in the human values; I committed to them. I avoid dying. I’m not sure why. It sounds like it’s got a lot going for it. I know it has. Apart from the getting there. And the envy of what you won’t get to do or see, once you’ve gone. Somebody said to me once: well, you don’t envy all the stuff that happened before you were born! They’d read a short book on philosophy. And I replied: well, yes I do! I envy every fucking event I never got to take part in. But it’s okay really. I accounted for that too. Bodies are intersections of space and time where time and space do their thing. I threw in the odd paradox here and there. A final adventurous refrain.