Turbulent Clarity – A Stream of Consciousness

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Turbulent Clarity – A Stream of Consciousness

Genre: Psychological, Philosophical, Stream of Consciousness

2 minute read | Short Stories | Fiction

By: Atman Brahman

I just need to think for a minute. Do I really have an affect on this world? I feel like I’m more of just an observer than an actual player. Is there in fact ever any real control, or just a petty illusion? Everyone seems to just “be”, without questioning, just going about their life, without raising these queries. Am I the only one swimming against the current of this collective stream of consciousness?

Does it make me evil to poke and prod at people’s psyche to get a deeper look? Does it make me evil to bring out some of their dark sides? Is it a reflection of them or of myself? Are good and evil even fundamental concepts, or merely archetypal representations of “together” and “self”? I “hope” that good always wins in the end because “together” is more powerful than “self”? But can evil win? Why has it not yet, or before in the past? Or has it?

Death could be any minute. When I was 21 I used to think I’d be dead by 27 because I could not see past then in my head. Now, I can see myself at 60, but I fear I will never make it, that death could snatch me when I’m not looking, and not even realize… ever to “realize” anything ever again! Some random event, unfair, unjust. No rhyme or reason, just a coincidental end to my coincidental existence.

How did I get to this very moment in time… To what I am? It’s like the most basic rudimentary function of life, “meaning”, has been scrutinized enough that it is effectively overridden, meaningless; Or is it really rudimentary? Are we the only form of life that, for some reason, NEEDS a meaning other than to just BE? We are human “beings” after all. Is “meaning” an evolved trait?

Do I ever truly enjoy anything or am I always imagining the enjoyment of prospective actions and events? Why do happy memories always give me a twinge of sadness? What are we without memory? What are we without a past? Is the future forever or is forever just our stand-in for “meaning”? What are we without a future? What are we if nothing exists in the future, not even memory? Why do I care? Why does it matter if I care or not? Is caring an evolved trait?

Am I just the culmination of the climactic evolutionary cluster fuck? Am I a mistake? Is God an evolved trait? Is God a mistake?