I sometimes wonder about the very essence of me. I mean who and what am I? I find myself, a human being, here on this particular planet in an out of the way planetary system a bit far out on an arm of an obscure galaxy (of moderate size) in an undisclosed location of the Universe (which may, or may not be, one part of some greater universe we cannot yet comprehend but basically assume does not exist).
Regardless, I am here. I didn't choose to be here, so far as I know. Based on what I know about who I am, I would not have willingly chose to be me. I would have been someone more notable, more heroic, more famous (but not too... I like my privacy), definitely more wealthy, and probably a babe magnet. Also a better golfer. Oh, and just a bit taller.
Obviously, I had no choice in the matter.
The very concept of self is a mystery I lack the tools to solve. I don't think I am alone in this. Otherwise we would not have numerous philosphies and religions. We'd all agree about what, or who, we are and why we exist at all.
I came to this conclusion after years of wondering why I was born into the family in which I grew up. I cannot recall ever being happy that I was a part of that family. I often wished I had been born in someone else's. Most of my friends' families seemed better, though not all.
This means I had a fairly miserable childhood. Well, maybe not all that miserable. Certainly, others had it much worse than I did. After all, I was fed regularly, not beaten or sexually abused by a parent (or any other relative), adequately clothed, and always had a roof over my head. Instead of miserable, let's just say I could have been happier.
I just never felt like I was an essential part of it. My family, that is. I always felt like an outsider.
Which might explain my general uneasiness about being a human being. I have never felt that I was an essential part of that family either.
Sometimes, I play with the idea that we are some kind of entities that manifest ourselves wherever (and whenever) we like. We try out different lives as entertainment. Except why just as humans? Why not as animals too? But then there are insects (not to mention microscopic life forms). This would mean we exist outside of life as we know it. Between lives, that is. And that there is an ether in which we sit back (metaphorically speaking, of course... we may not "sit" at all in that form) and muse over what we experienced.
And then I go back to that whole "obscure part of the universe" thing.
And I once postulated that reality is simply a fantasy playing out in the mind of some creature lying somewhere in a comatose state. But what happens if he wakes up?
Or maybe it would be worse if he didn't?
A Night Unremembered
7 years ago