Dunbar’s Number

Doesn’t work as well in a dissociative mind I suppose.

I can’t grieve for a Facebook Friend’s Third Cousin’s Pet.

Fuck I can barely grieve for my very own and when I see photos of the past they seem like a million years away.  I may not have Alzheimer but I have distinct idea of what it might feel like to be in an alien body of some sort, not to have a past, to barely have a present and a bleak future.

I get so overwhelmed with emotions that I go into a shutdown, a literal meltdown.

Whether it comes from not being very resilient to an over cruel mother, a betraying father or what else I don’t know. It’s just the way I am, it seems like the way I have always been looking for a bubble to protect me from this cruel world.

Always meeting with an awful lot of hostility and never ever fitting in no matter where I went has left me with this singular perspective I suppose.

So death that I fear and desire at the same time will be some sort of a relief I guess.

I fear it because I have always been extremely curious and death is certainly the end of curiosity if nothing else.  If curiosity is the death of this cat, curiosity also ends in death and with death.

My love of sci-fi and dystopia wants me to stay around to look at the incoming horrors and yet the horrors seem to affect me and destroy me more than the average ape out there.  I could definitely be wrong on this one, we all deal differently with horror, and thinking of death daily is not the sanest wisest thing to do I am sure.

Yes it sounds very poetical but most poets were not very happy people and many ended up insane.

So in the meanwhile I go on, one day at a time, one second at a time waiting and waiting for the next corner, the next exhilaration which is becoming more and more elusive the older I am getting.  57 and a half in 20 days and counting, counting the days, the seconds, thinking of my dad’s 2 billion seconds on earth… my chances of making it to 3 billion seconds are almost nil and in the meantime I waste all the seconds in between trying to extend the amount.  The only seconds I don’t feel wasted are exactly those here where I can put words and thoughts together side by side down on something, something more resilient than a dissociative forgetful mind full of a gazillion wasted thoughts a second.  Not that this will stay much longer it is after all at the mercy of one accidental cyber accident, more at risk here on a fragile  hard disk and still at risk on a blog in this vast Huxleyian cyberworld lost among billions and billions of other zeros and ones.

So here you go posterity and legacy, another little piece of my mind before it disappears forever as all minds do.

As I was saying just yesterday in some sort of mythical way:

You are because I am. If I wasn’t you would not be.  ~ Consciousness or Narcissism?

To which a friend firmly replied with realism which made me smile.

 it's neither .........I am because I am.....if you wasn't I still would be and if I wasn't you still would be

And he is right to but what I meant is still there that without consciousness nothing exists from the point of view of the viewer.

When I am gone, you’re all gone. When I go, you all go.

Yes you do all continue to exist but from my ‘empirical’ POV you might as well be all dead too.  This is the moment really when nothing really matters to this poor boy as the great prophet Farrokh Bulsara once said.

My words, my thoughts, my sentient being, eventually my cyber print, social medias and all and maybe even like Mozart but unlikely all my genetic prints gone forever no traces.  Well in fact all my genetic print is likely to disappear anyway in the next 5 billion years unless we move up on the Kardashev Scale which I doubt most of our energy being spent in destroying rather than building.

The earth in fact is middle age, having a mid-life crisis, nearly 5 billion years old and just another 5 billion more to go.

So my little 50 years plus inside of 10 billion will not leave a major mark for sure.

I was here 0.000000005 of the time. 

200 million of me in the planet’s time.

Make that maybe 100 million considering we, Homo Sapiens, were not very active in the planet’s first half life.

Here I have gone on rambling again, started well but drifted away, the story of my life really, 

rien ne se perd, rien ne se crée.