I’m not a human, I’m a whimsical dream. I’m “The essence previously-known as the physical-form of Rich”.
I have relieved you of the burden of body, now how do you feel? Lighter I suppose. No longer real, but ethereal. Floating through 3D scenes, I skate the frozen surface. I witness far-off reflections of forms glistening amidst a golden glow against boundless backgrounds of flickering spectacles.
I am beyond the scene, as a viewer of TV resides on the other side of the screen, glass in-between. I can experience momentary distress from the images I see, but it’s really not me. Ultimately I don’t care. Unless I can alter the drama before me, then it feels like someone else’s handiwork. All I can say is “okay cool” in an apathetic way, shrugging my shoulders.
So recently, I’ve been testing out a very zoomed-out perspective. It’s weird to perceive all “this” as a complete fabrication – yet it feels closer to the truth. The Earth I know, is absurdity all the way down. Life is pure parody nowadays – which I’m fine with, I like parodies (the joke-version of something).
I’ve noticed the changes, the lightening of my experience flashing before my eyes. I laugh more, my annoyances are minor, I joke more, my responsibilities are less – things are different. The degree to which my world fundamentally altered suggests it wasn’t built on rock, but sand. It WAS a dream after all.
The transient nature of experience, filled with choreographed scenes designed to evoke emotion, demonstrate this. Hello dreamworld, I see you – hiding behind drama in your chaotic camouflage.