"Stop to smell the roses!" People tell me when I worry. "You're young!" They say. "Live a little!"
To that I always want to reply "I take it that's what you've done? That explains why you live on unemployment and have a kid in Oregon that you never see."
I don't though. I just duck my head and say "True, true." Which is what I tend to say when I'm stumped for what so say next or I don't agree with your statement.
I remember my Dad explaining the plot line of Blade Runner to me. "You see, you might be a replicant and not even know it," He said in the conspiratorial tone he always uses when he tries to trip me out. "All of your memories might be fake all the way up to this point."
This did not sit well with me. I'd be playing with dinosaurs on the floor and think "Well, did that conversation actually happen? What about what I'm thinking right now? What is now? How long does it last? Is it years? Months? Weeks? ...Seconds?"
When faced with existential questions like this, I tend to come to the realization that it really doesn't matter. In this case, that never happened. Time is one of those things that you just don't mess with.
I tried to just forget about it. Push it into the back of my mind. Still, it lurked and brooded in the shadows and swamps of my brain like a Nile crocodile waiting patiently for its next meal. It started to drive me crazy. I'd be playing peacefully one moment, then it would hit. That otherworldly feeling- like deja vu except more physical. More dangerous. I would start counting out seconds obsessively, wondering which one was real. Would it really make a difference anyway, though? I wasn't sure, but by god I would find out.
After months of freaking out about this periodically, I had the pleasure of watching Spaceballs. There's this great scene where Darth Helmet and his henchman find the Spaceballs movie and, in one of the most meta scenes ever, fast forward through it, hoping to find the whereabouts of their enemies.
However, they go too far and find themselves watching themselves watching themselves watching themselves... Watching themselves. Darth gets all impatient and demands to know when "then will be now." The henchman replies "Soon."
This kinda stuck with me. "Maybe," I thought "If I don't focus on the past 'nows' and focus on the 'soons' instead, I won't freak out so much."
And it's worked. I now think way into the future, always chasing that 'soon' and running, breathless, from that 'now.'
Still, every so often (usually when looking at sunbeams, oddly enough), I feel that 'now' sneaking up on me and I feel lost, counting out the seconds and breathing my first breath of the day every single moment, until I get a grip on myself and barrel onward, not caring where I end up just so long as it's not here.
Stupid roses.
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You rock socks.