Sometimes I still have moments of unreality. I recall this happened every now and again when I was going out with my last girlfriend: something about the what I experienced did not seem like it was a genuine one, a feeling like it was merely a simulation of life, that on a deeper level, it was not really happening. What am I comparing these things with, I wonder? Where did I ever get a sense of what a fundamental ground of existence might be, that which is more solid than the most solid of all material things? For that is what the unreality centers on: these things are too light to be true, that there is something deeper elsewhere I am sensing in my subconscious, which I cannot quite put my finger on, but somehow I know it is there.
It comes sometimes just as I’m walking down the street. Not even the asphalt seems to be as solid as all that, that there is nothing that truly fills it with reality. Everything is hollow. Somewhere I have lost the sense of that which exists, it would seem, that there is a malfunctioning circuit in the experiencing of anything — that life is like a waking dream, with no girding of fundamental soundness to it. I half expect at times that all things will halt and its true nature, its hidden nature, will reveal itself... though it never does, of course. I do not know what it is that I have to get used to to make the real things seem real. Things are real enough, for now, but the hints of madness I don’t know if they will ever let me get past the shadow of doubt, that this is really happening, that life is truly here.
me?!
1:43pm saturday, 13th november
the shadow of doubt is what keeps us on edge- and enables us to stay aware.
me?!