So I was totally zoning out while walking along with my friend, barely even aware of where we were going, just in my little mind palace, and I was horrified to find as I zoned back in that I had been speaking. I have 0 recollection of it my friend told me that I’d been saying ‘I will sing a little song and do a little dance’ on repeat to myself.
now, I’m definitely a verbal stimmer, and my vocabulary is often comprised mostly of a set of 20 or so phrases I’ll say automatically, mostly references or something I liked the sound of or seemed funny, but I have NEVER had the term ‘I will sing a little song and do a little dance’ in my repertoire. Is this what my subconscious is thinking? Is this my deepest animalistic desire? Is this who I am, deep down?
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*existing alone*
*zones out*
*comes back* "Sorry. I zoned out."
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Me five minutes into the social gathering I forced myself to go to because I haven't been to the last three and I don't want to be seen as rude and antisocial.
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I love those moments early in the morning when I zone out completely, it is as if there's movement around that's witnessed by the physical eyes, but the inner eyes are lost in some far away distant place and time, immersed in another dimension, where everything is absolutely still, silent, soothing - transcendence at its finest. Wish my body too could be teleported there...
Random Xpressions
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currently sitting at my desk, waiting for my body to let me turn off the lights and go to bed
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The symbol of destitution.
Above me, you, your close relatives and friends is this haze. We try to remember something about ourselves only to have found that there is nothing there. Leaving us to find that the haze above us is merely meandering. And when we are at our low, it will, and to many, it has made it's descent upon us.
I speak of this haze as if it were an enemy, a person to whom only wants to profit off of your disbalance. But hear me now, for the haze is no man nor God. It is apart of nature that presents its inevitability to everyone, like death. Some engulfed never get out. Some engulfed find a home within the fog of fear. And others? They keep walking. What more can you do when oblivion descends upon you? You keep walking.
The good are judged. The bad are watched. Oblivion does not discriminate. Therefore, the good of your soul may be questioned. The people to whom you exemplified charity unto, they will be remembered in due course. And if you in your power have no strength to recall. Oblivion will have you remember. For it wants to see it all, and know all of which you have done in this life.
I believed in an afterlife where we in ourselves would be granted the opportunity to watch our life play out like a movie. After many astounding discomforts arose in place of humble beginnings, I have then begun to understand that we as people are to endure discomfort for eternity more. Not out of some cynical source of payment for mere existence, nor because I believe we are but to be punished for our inhales and exhales; solely due to the mere sight of what it means to be human.
So when that day comes. When oblivion descends upon you and demands moment of tranquility. Do not fret. For the shadows within the mist are of no physical embodiment. Just a reminder of who you used to know. How you knew them. Why they are no longer around. And most importantly, what part of you did you lose alongside them.
The afterlife is no moment of certainty. We all have this idea of what is next for us. Oblivion is my check in stop and final battle. If I do not surpass a general existential understanding, at least I can find meaning in facing oblivion itself. And maybe like those of whom have found home there, I will find comfort in discomfort.
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Ah... I see... I forgot something.
Polar bear
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