Tuesday, January 29, 2013
darker than black
as I've aged well into my thirties, it's felt like I've been seeing my past from a whole other angle. It no longer feels like just yesterday. It no longer feels like I'm still reeling, having just gone through it. Rather, it feels almost surreal, looking back on the lot of it. It all looks so very far away. With this sort of detachment, it looks like so much random craziness. It looks like nothing means as much as I thought it did.
Maybe it's because I keep moving. In each place, entirely different circumstances, entirely different daily routines. Like different lives. A life even more segmented by my poor ability to bridge the space created each time I've moved. I don't drive, I'm not social enough to keep in touch. Honestly, I usually even hate just leaving the apartment.
I think that on some deep level, our sense of reality is intertwined with people we've known. As we've known them. Something that arises with consensus, our mechanisms for making sense of things together. The constant process of teaching and learning that permeates our social behavior, and has been such a part of civilization's ever evolving formation.
Maybe it's just me, but I'm more inclined to think that I might just be more sensitive to it than most. Maybe this is why it disturbs me in this odd way, to feel so far from all these people I've known. It's a scary feeling, like being lost in the middle of nowhere, with way too much darkness just beyond my immediate space.
Reality is what we make it to be, in the sense that without us socially making anything of it, it isn't anything that means anything at all. Somehow, I find this to be a rather terrifying prospect.