I’ve been noticing that strange morning confusion lasting longer and longer into the day. That disorientation and confusion is nearly gone usually by noon at the latest, sooner if I have my morning Joe. It fades but never quite goes away.
Living with any altered state does have its benefits, I’ve noticed new things about myself that I haven’t noticed before. I can’t imagine this is new unless it’s a symptom of the same problem.
I think our biological beings work different than we suspect. I think we kind of assume that our brains are an on/off switch. Thoughts are thought and then disappear, right? But lately I’ve been noticing that my thoughts don’t disappear, rather they slowly fade in the sense of a half life or a feedback loop.
I know it sounds strange but try it for me, maybe when you’ve had a couple drinks or a hit of something. When a particularly impactful idea crosses your mind, just sit back and observe where it goes. I’d bet you it sticks with you longer than you expect.
I believe in moments.
It’s commonly said that life is a series of moments but I’ve taken that to heart. Even when I was a youngin I remember laying on the bed in the nurse’s office — I was a sick kid. Sinus problems conflated with a general boredom for life and what I was doing. Unchallenged, uninspired, unenabled.
Laying on that bed a lot, waiting for the nurse to come in, waiting for my mom to fanangle out of her routine to come get me and bring me home — a lot of waiting on that damn bed. My bored mind began connecting the moments and thinking of the me(s) not only who were laying there in the prior grade levels but the ones who will eventually be laying there. I imagined the me(s) there and tried to will myself to them and make a connetion that I couldn’t get from anyone else but myself (even myself disembodied).
It was a pattern that I’ve rediscovered tonight in a grungy bar bathroom. I’m not proud of it but I’m still getting drunk in grungy bars even in my advancing age. Maybe I am proud of it — who can prove their life is better than mine?
Washing my hands tonight in that bathroom, I looked up and saw myself with the eyes of a drunken fool and laughed (because who doesn’t laugh at a drunken fool) and then remembered the times before, so many times, looking up and laughing and seeing myself disembodied with those drunken eyes and just for a moment I was connecting to a younger me and with some luck, all those older me(s) too.
I’ve always been fascinated with end-of-the-world theories. These dark moods I’ve been waking up in lately seem to keep up my interest. Interestingly, there’s some buzz around the web and such, but not a lot of excitement or fear like I remember there being with the Y2K thing. Maybe it’s because it seems so much less likely that an ancient civilization could predict the end of the world thousands of years in advance. Less likely, surely, than mankind creating a technology that would be our eventual doom.
There’s some contradiction in the Mayan prediction anyway. They never really claimed it was the end as much as just got lazy and didn’t create another new calendar to follow the one that is ending too. Of course the (erroneous, apparently) idea that they didn’t account for leap years has been circulating for a while, probably giving people less reason to even entertain the idea. And certain finds lend further assurance to the conclusion most have come to that the Mayans meant for it to roll over to the next age.
It gives us some excitement anyway, to think about it and joke about it. As bits of snow start dropping on this autumn day, looking a bit like ash to my cloudy mind, I can’t help but feel like something meaningful might come of it.