Saturday, September 6, 2008
He was part of my dream, of course - but then I was part of his dream, too.
Lewis Carroll (Through the Looking-Glass)
Don't we sometimes feel that there are two worlds here. Not that I myself know exactly what here is. Are we really here then? There's another world. One we go to when we die, and sometimes when we sleep.
Some of us are more there than here. We sometimes know a little more about the place than others do. But I suppose the place has so many secrets, we won't find out so easily right? We'll know eventually, when we leave this world.
Haven't you came across a place, where you get a sense of deja-vu, and you realise that you have been there before, in your dreams. I suppose everybody has. Or come across somebody whom you've never met before, but seem so familiar to you. Or experience a life in your dreams so different from your present life, that its impossible to imagine in your present state there exists a thing like that.
I suppose there must be parallel dimensions as well. Its like living parallel lives, you know. All side by side in world's of our own. We can get there sometimes, but the way we get there is not physically, nor consciously.
Could we get lost there, we wonder. Of course there must be barriers of which we eventually end up in our own world. Or which if we do not, we will survive there (or not). Or perhaps our bodies will continue living that life for us, in the other world of which you initially belong to.
So which of it is us, then? How many consciousness do we have? There has to be the essence of something that is truly you. How tangible is that, then? Is it our soul? Are we still that thing then? That us, when we die?
Scientists have found out that a dead body weighed 0.25 grams lighter after a short period of time in which a person is oficially pronounced brain-dead. Its, perhaps, too presumptuous to say that is our soul. Cynics will say that there is certainly a logical explanation for that.
Of course, people from different religions will believe in different things, for example, there is the belief of reincarnation in Buddhism, where one accumulates karma and it is carried forward to your next life, where you will not remember anything from your past life. Taoists do not even believe in the afterlife. You simply cease to exist when you die.
But what i'm thinking is, we must all go somewhere musn't we? It would be pretty scary not to be anywhere at all after you die. But then again, thats how one would appreciate living. If there's no chance of you being alive again.
Well, I guess, its something no one can be really sure of. If they really know so much, there must be a price to pay. They won't give up their secrets so easily. Its better to stay here, then.
Life isn't any different there, nor easier. It seems more lonely and dark there. Like a bleak place where sunlight is sucked away and what's left is a dark core. Cold, dim and dreamy. Where thoughts are slowly spun into delicate metallic twines and hung up in the dark grey sky, like oppressive clouds weighing you down like a giant blanket. And nature there is so loud, the wind, waves, the trees. And yet no one can hear you, not even yourself.
And then the place is cold. Not the place, its the wind. Seaside gales everywhere, and you don't have any shoes. Its so lonely there. Lonely, lonely and cold. I think i'd rather not think about it, its not the time to, anyway.
It's time to call home now. You've been far away for far too long and much missed.
Labels: why don't you hear me?
loved on 10:25 PM
