Thoughts of a Broken BrainMature

Diary Entry 1

Congratulations... You have just been appointed as my new diary. Yes you will receive the knowledge of this super human brain, the doors of the universe is at your mercy, and you shall feel the immense self retardation infect your fragile little mind.

Why have you won this prize of living absolution? Well... It's simple really.
I have this condition see. It's a condition that is yet to be discovered by modern science. Something unknown, mysterious and dark. As magic has always been the term used  to describe the underdeveloped or, yet to be explained. And as such... is my condition.

My condition?

My mind...

...It's broken

It does not function like a real human brain. It sees outlines of reality distorted by the overwhelming mechanics of nothingness. Almost like a super massive black hole residing within the cavity of my skull where the brain should reside. A void. A Realm. A Gate to another dimension, a universe that is ever expanding into itself. Very much like the one we hear about when cosmologists try to make day to day conversation in condescendence.

And No, it's not figurative for a depressed and sad person trying to cope with everyday life. No, the spacious cosmos in my head is a threat, not just to me, but I fear, to the living reality that you breathe each day. I can feel a disturbing and subtle feeling of Awe, as if the waves of an impending doom is arriving within the matter of space that will result in a cataclysmic "Big Bang". An explosion caused as a result from it's previous implosion, an event we see as singular and came to know by the name of Armageddon.
Yes, you have it. Think clearly.
Like the white light at the end of the tunnel of death, becoming the first white light seen by a new born baby.
The beginning is the end, is the beginning...

Back in this reality, outside of my brain, I feel like an underdeveloped cyborg in post apocalyptic waste bin of outer limit GUU... The devastation of an interbreeding civilization of condemned morons, flurrying about in resemblance to flies on a steaming pile of poop. Puppets on strings of  social obligation. Attempting to extract meaning through obsessive consumption with diarrhetic consequence. Perpetual coffee house conversations in the pointless pursuit of happiness. A term that we throw around like we know what it means, but in fact, we actually have absolutely no fucking idea of what it is. As if a goldfish in bowl could know the world we see. The idea of "happiness" is a very fuzzy loose ideal, that has only fairly recently been dreamt up, dressed up, and sold to you by Hollywood, religious groups and salesman-politicians. The fact that the origin of the word came from an ancient Greek concept of "lucky or favored by fortune" have not even crossed modern man's thought process. Rather the belief that it is something that is owed to us. Something that existence is contractually obligated to bestow upon us from our day of birth. It's not the result of happiness that we crave, but the anticipation of the result.

That's why nothing ever happens around here. It's all made up. Random moments we create in our wait for the next proverbial carrot to be dangled upon the nose, in which we so foolishly convince ourselves will result in a super human gift of ecstasy. Subconscious heroin junkies in pursuit of our anticipational fix.

I haven't always been this way. The cynical, over dramatic and bored person you see here before you in these words. No, It crept up slowly. The dreams slowly started inserting ideas into my thoughts. I started seeing the unseen, and understanding the unthinkable. It was the dreams. The windows into the cosmos that I carry. A trade. A Gift, for the keeper of this Galactic responsibility. That is why my vision of the outside reality has become fuzzy and distorted. I can see the wire frame works underneath it. The cogs and gears that drives it. The system that calculates it. Sitting beneath the flesh of our own naivety, like the bones of the reaper hiding in it's darkness.


The End

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