Saturday, April 9, 2011

When one confronts oneself

A thoughtful moment
A peaceful moment
A moment of concern

I think back about my previous post, and what 'occurred' and what didn't occur.  I wonder if mayhaps my subconscious wants me to be wary of something.  Or perhaps it's more overt than that!  In my dazed stupor that is my experience, I confessed to something that did not happen.  Worse yet, it was what would be a hate crime.  Its a bitter pill to think of, that a man could be possible of such things, even worse to imagine the sheer intolerance of it all.  I think that such things, without getting too lecturey for once, need to be actively monitored.  One cannot simply say, "Oh, I have no prejudices, that's stupid."  Take me for example,  the first three loves of my life were all a different race, and yet I had this illusion before me that I confessed to such ignorant evil.  There are such preconceived notions still debasing the world.  'These guys are smarter.'  'These guys do more crime.'  'These guys can do this better.'

Statistics may tell a story, but its painted with dark colors.  I think perhaps, I experienced this tragedy in order to reconfirm what I already know, my own little secret of life, perhaps to empathize with those who have done wrong.  I cannot be sure, I can only follow this short road to its end.   On that note, I have nothing further to say on the matter, else I sound like an After-School Special.

I awoke in my hospital bed, near Halloween.  It was that time of year when I had my incident, so this made sense.  What happened next was more surreal.  According to the news, something had leaked into the milk supply for the state, causing strange mutations.  People with strange cheese shaped heads, and shambling corpses staggered about.  Protests were raised, Pro and Anti milk campaigns were both shown in a surreal demonstration of acceptance of change, and the denial of mutation.

I knew this to simply be a prank, a publicity stunt for the city for Halloween, and yet I saw zombies crawling along the hall.  I saw the hands reach out from the ceiling tiles.  I saw that when things went dark, they came out.  They never touched me, they never even entered my room, but I knew they were there.  I must confess that while my other ecstatic moments led me to great visions of truth, courage and compassion, this one was simply bizarre.

I was also Aquaman, but I digress.

So view yourselves with open eyes, see past the smoke and pain of life, try to see who you really are, and decide then and there, if that is what you want to be.  There is always a better path, you know.

Until you find that path,
Call Me Nil.