Museum08/14/2016

    I’m still not sure if knowing what I know makes it easier for me to accept the truth of my existence. It’s obvious to me now that you’re reading this. With all that information readily available to you and all of your free time, maybe you’ve finally stumbled upon my story somehow. Maybe you already see and know everything and are only laughing at my foolishness. It doesn’t matter anymore. Now that you’re here, allow me to walk you through my routine, I think you know it pretty well already.

    Every morning I try to wake up at four. Most mornings I succeed, only occasionally do I give in to my primitive impulses and allow myself to sleep a little longer. On those days I always feel like I lost some kind of battle in a war that has been raging for as long as I can remember. Ironically, it’s on those days that I feel the most safe and relaxed than I’ve ever been. Almost like you’re taunting me to finally raise the white flag. Except I won’t. Not ever! I can see through that false sense of security. I can see through your illusions. You can’t trick me. I will never give up! I hope you can finally realize that.

    And so I wait. Testing you, but only in my mind. In private. My enemy, sometimes my friend. We don’t need to bring any of them into our war. We can settle this alone. As if in some classic duel of the past, with honor and dignity. Just you, me and the silent wind of fate. But let me not digress any further, let me take you back into my routine, the one you seem to love so much.

    The first thing I do is put the kettle on. I always picture you laughing at my habits. Old habits die hard or so they say. While the water boils I clean myself up in the bathroom. This tiny cube of a room is where I ready myself for the day. I was taught the importance of good hygiene so I try to follow the code laid down by the wisdom of the past. It doesn’t matter if you tell me it’s no longer necessary. It’s none of your business what I do with my time. I know I’m setting a good example. You just seem to think of it as some kind of history lesson. We can let the others decide the truth of my actions for themselves.

    The kettle alerts me when I should finish brushing my teeth. I always make sure to put more water then I need so I get more time to wash up. So I wipe myself off and head back to the kitchen just a few feet away, to prepare my morning coffee. Sometimes I choose tea, and you know this also. Maybe you’re playing some game to see when I choose coffee over tea. Perhaps you already know what I’ll choose that day. Doesn’t matter. Today I choose coffee because I need the rush that it gives me. Especially today, because explaining everything to you is going to take a lot of focus.

    You see, I like the amount of time it takes to brew coffee. It gives me just enough time to setup my work environment. Today I’m going to be writing all this down for you. I know it won’t matter to you of course. The format of all my thoughts are universal to you. You’ll see them in any way you want anyway. You’re probably even seeing them through my eyes. I can feel you inside my mind you know. I’m not that stupid.

    With my coffee ready, my day can finally begin. I try to write right away. The coffee burns my empty stomach but it fills the void of the hunger temporarily. The coffee helps me get started, later the hunger keeps me going. The longer I go, the better and stranger the ideas. I’m an entertainer you see and the things I write for the others, they can’t get enough of it. Maybe they’re sick of it. I’m sure you know which one it is.

    Oddly enough, today I’m in a slump but I’m still trying to put some words down on this page. Although these words are a bit personal. They’re just for you. But if you show the others I won’t mind. Who knows, maybe they’ll like it, although I doubt they’d understand who it is I’m talking to. To them, you and I are the same person.

    Lunch time already? I guess that last one was too much. Strange… I didn’t feel the time pass by. Perhaps you cheated? It’s alright my friend, I don’t mind a little cheating now and then. It makes me feel like I’m actually winning this war. I guess I’ll really know when I see what I’m eating this time.

    On days like this I like to order take out. I just don’t have the motivation to cook right now. Not after all that. I know you understand. There’s many places to choose from but I’m going to keep it safe. The grilled chicken and steamed rice dish seems like a great choice. Can’t go wrong with that. While I wait for that perhaps I’ll take a shower, seems like a good idea after my night sweats.

    The shower is pleasant although sometimes it feels like an escape. I often forget how many times I wash my head with the shampoo. Does the bottle look the same to you? Maybe you’re cutting corners somewhere to save energy? Do I really consume that much? Well I’m sorry I’ll be quick, I usually am.

    By the time the food arrives I’m well out of the shower and in some fresh clothes. The laundry service was a nice touch by the way. You do love making things convenient and orderly don’t you? You know you gotta work on your manners though. Maybe I can read an ethics book or two and teach you how to behave like a gentleman. Here comes the food to bring us back on track again.

    I take the food from the thing at the door. It has a blank look and doesn’t look to happy to see me, in all my glory. I apologize like a fool and shut the door in it’s face. I’m an asshole, I know. I hurt it’s feelings, I do feel sorry for it. I just can’t stop seeing past the filters you constructed for all of them. I can only complain to you and try to prove my point. So I leave the food to cool at my desk as I resume my work again. I seem to have lost my appetite. Maybe a little more work can help bring it back.

    So what is all this for exactly? Why do I exist, right here, right now? Are these the questions I try to embed into my work? Do you also seek the same answers as I do? Maybe you already have all the questions and answers lined up in a neat and tidy grid, and I’m just here on display, in all of my ignorance and foolishness for the future to laugh at, to pity, or perhaps to envy. Maybe all your clues and tricks are there to help me find a way out? Why then are all your exits so messy and inhumane? I’m tired and nauseous… maybe I should eat this?

    The taste and smell is tolerable or maybe I’m just used to it. Swallowing this stuff isn’t easy you know, especially when I know how pointless it all is. This food you generate for me… this circus. I’m obliged to take part in it for the sake of my sanity. I eat it to sustain my work, my culture, my identity, my purpose.

    I know the energy already is inside of me, you showed me. All the energy I ever need is right there for me, I can consume it at will. Not even consume, simply merge. The only problem is the body, it won’t survive the process. I’m sorry to say, no matter how convenient it may be for you, to live like that, it’s still very alien to me. I still need this ritual. The fork scoops the matter into my mouth. I chew it a few times, I try to remember to do it more thoroughly next time. The smaller pieces slide down my throat mixed with saliva and bacteria, it’s all necessary and part of the processes. The food digests in my stomach with the help of stomach acids and other forms of bacteria that live inside me. Eventually the matter is processed further into an even smaller form where it can be easily transported. Some of it goes into my bloodstream and is then distributed as a form of energy into tiny cells that powers my body and brain. All this allows me to do my work and to communicate with you.

    The rest becomes waste. I flush all that shit away. Wherever that goes… maybe it goes back to be remade into the food you bring me. I am wasteful after all, aren’t I? It’s good to recycle. Maybe to you, my ideas are similar to that waste? I do tend to repeat a lot them don’t I? You’ll still listen to me won’t you? I know that you still do. I see the little clues and tricks that you sprinkle around when I’m not paying attention. Do you think it motivates me when you agitate my nerves like that? Maybe it does? I don’t know. I think I stopped caring a long time ago. Life goes on. Now then… back to work. The show must go on!


    “Young one! It’s very important not to disturb the natural environment of this exhibit.”

    “We can’t interfere with this one either? They seem to like it though. It gets them moving doesn’t it?”

    “I know you mean well but please, do not toy with them so casually. They may look similar to us but they function very differently from us. It is a solitary being, it may seem to be reaching out but it is mistaken. It doesn’t know any better. Just leave it alone and observe.”

    “But instructor, how can this be? You say it’s a solitary being but I see so many of them. How can this one function as a whole like this yet be unaware of it’s true self?”

    “It’s normal for us to see this one as ourselves and to feel the urge to communicate. Believe me, we tried many times. It’s difficult to reach an understanding because of the way this one evolved. You see, it is a very ancient being. And what do we do with our elders?”

    “We respect our elders, we learn from them, we don’t repeat their mistakes.”

    “That’s right, very sound reasoning young one.”

    “But why don’t we simply show this one it’s true potential? It’s been done before hasn’t it?”

    “We have that power of course. We have tried, believe me young one. It is not our intention to see life suffer like this. This one is just very stubborn. Perhaps one day they will have a break through. For now please just don’t disrupt the environment. This one is very old and cranky as they like to say.”

    “I understand instructor. May I ask one more question?”

    “Of course, ask as many as you want.”

    “Is it possible to build a bridge into this one’s reality? Instead of pulling the fish out of the water, can we instead go into the water disguised as another fish, so to speak…”

    “Ah young one, you have much to learn. Doing so would not help this one realize their potential. All they can hope to see in that plain of existence is a mirror of themselves. To communicate what we accept as truth would only do more harm then good. Believe me, it has been tried.”

    “This one is still seeking the answers it seems. I think I understand this one somehow.”

    “You do and you don’t young one, There is no understanding without change and there is no change without knowledge. Now come, the next exhibit is from the 22nd century. If you think this one was strange, just wait until you see your ancestors from this time period. I’m still not sure what to think of them myself.”

    The child stood there, contemplating the importance of all the objects in the exhibit. The writer looked busy and all his infinite actions stood frozen, contained within the room he was in. If it were a painting, it would be a blurry mess of energy, a kaleidoscope of hectic colors, shapes, sounds, and smells folding into itself. It resembled some kind of strange fractal with uniquely repeating patterns that all depended on each other. A quantum clockwork frozen in time. Maybe, this time, removing the object called a toothbrush would speed things along, thought the child.

    “Young one… I thought I told you before not to touch anything… Please come with me. Leave the poor thing alone.”

    “Oooookay, coming!”

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