I'm in a nothingy kind of place where I'm weighing up if this might be it...and I think it might be. I'm wondering how, if, I can come to terms with it. Perhaps I have already. Accepted it as already passed.
disconnectedness set to last, measured by the time I have left which
for all I know could be eternity if science continues its leaps and
pushes. Is this how it is to be some sort of New Age astronaut with
my brain permanently encased in a bubble?
is nothing here. I feel nothing here.
is no meaning, no emotion. Just a vast, blank emptiness where nothing
is related. No pinpricks of planets or stars to illuminate the
blackness. No space dust to examine as it floats by, and even if
there was I'm not sure it would arouse my once human curiosity.
is no longer an existence I have any conception of, although the
brain still thinks as if it were always separate from and outside the
body. There's nothing to quantify its being so it survives
independently, freed from its shackles but persisting in its thinking
as 'I'. That attachment has not been severed, yet.
time and I, whatever this I describes: who I was or who I am now,
might join the cosmos. Merge with the dark pool and cease
individualised thinking, possibly cease thinking altogether. Maybe
consciousness too will lose its current importance, but right now
this need for an independent identity is all I have left. In mind
body, or the vehicle as I shall refer to it from this moment
forwards, was abandoned relatively recently when it became apparent
it did not serve. It functioned but was unfit for purpose for I (and
I was then what is generally comprehended as an I) had surpassed it.
The inclination to possess a physical property had grown less and
less with frequent civil wars that couldn't be contained or
pacified. The threats of unrest were never empty. Naturally, I became
disenchanted presiding over this warring state and so escaped into
the world of the mind. And once there, I was enthralled.
experience of the mind is that it operates much like a hotel:
reception is always frantically busy with arrivals, departures and
requests from staying guests, whereas the lounge is an oasis of calm.
The floor assigned to VIPs is huge with plenty of rooms to choose
from, all of which are designed to ponder and pontificate in. It
doesn't matter if you only hear your own response, so grateful are
you for the space to hear what you alone have to think and say.
retreats if retired to too often have a habit of descending into
permanency. The benefits on each occasion multiplying, the desire to
stay too great to discard.
vehicle for a time does fine without you. Its voluntary and
involuntary functions continue as before when you were more present,
and so your attention is diverted to a greater extent, drawn ever
inward, until you reach a point where you consider it surplus to
requirements. You have no need of it yet it does not desist from
needing you, and takes up energy that could be better spent on
intellectual matters. The perfunctory glances, which you felt it
deserved, are disregarded completely, as are observations of events –
those events outside yourself which make little or no impact. The I
subconsciously stating it no longer wishes to be troubled by these
mind is the controller now and the brain its subordinate, though to
be honest with the vehicle deserted that role is largely defunct;
still, it occasionally flickers, lights up its circuits like a
pinball machine just in case or for old time's sake which the mind on
one of its daily rambles barely registers.
that once used to present, in company, an exterior personality yet
live in its head on the quiet has now chosen instead to reside in a
state of nothing.
Picture credit: Hubble Space Telescope, NASA