Writing The Existentialist [m]

[Nothing]

[FONT=Garamond][CENTER]The Existentialist[/CENTER]


[INDENT]The concept of plausible reality is sketchy at best. A collection of neural impulses collected from the environment, processed and translated, altered and tweaked by our psyche gives is the idea of perception. Meaning, a series of chemical reactions is all that dictates what[B] is [/B] and what [B]exists[/B]. An outer environment need not exist for us to percieve one, and the reality we percieve need not always adhere to the one that is [B]truly there?[/B][CENTER]***[/CENTER]
The grey sky made black silohuettes out of the surrounding towers, wavy and distorted, contradictory to the architectural laws of logic. I lay in the center of a halo of cobbelstone, though I percieved no light from which this halo could have been emitted, like being in the glare of an invisible spotlight. The night?or at least, the darkness which resembled night in this realm of absurdity which held no ?day? to contrast, absorbed what should have been a cloudy sky and made it oblivion, a floating void of grey and black that hovered over this realm like a dome, a writhing, ever-changing thing like the waves of a toxic ocean?


?Mr. Emon?? I hear a voice, familiar, but there?s nobody next to me. This voice pervades the time and space of my illogical reality, like an enourmus pressure, like light upon a receeding shadow. ?Mr. Emon, are you still with me?? The world is shaking around me with a deafening hum, derbis rattling and vibrating in my darkening cobbelstone haven, around which envelops oblivion. There?s a screech inside my head, and for a second I see light-- a cream-colored celing and a fluorescent light strip and then it?s gone, and the sky is bleeding and the serpentile towers swim up to meet the drops of oblivion and they dissapear into each other like individual black holes that fight for dominance in the sky and another screetch and peek at the fluorescent light and the two worlds become one, a liquid mixture of reality, shifting and contorting on the film of my perception and my halo is gone and oblivion converges on my being and I CAN?T BREATHE AND THE BLEEDING FABRIC OF OF EXISTANCE IS TEARING AND GNASHING AND UNRAVELING AROUND ME


?Mr. Emon, it?s paramount that you respond to your therapy. Our interaction is crucial if you wish to achieve mental stability.?

Blackness?and the sound of my heartbeat. I can breathe again. I respond.

?It?s just ?Emon?? not ?Mr. Emon?.?

?Very well, Emon.?

Am I at the psychiatrist?s office?

?In our last session you complained of dillusions, hallucinations, and a sense of alienation from the world??

I open my eyes, slowly, and see the fluorescent light strip and the cream-colored celing. I?m laying on a freudian couch.

When did I leave the apartment?

??you also mentioned trouble in deciphering what?s real and what?s imaginary. Is that correct??

Is it? I don?t know if that?s right or not. What do I need to tell you that results in a fucking cure? You didn?t give me anything last time?just told me to come back?do I not seem desperate enough? No perscription, no diagnosis, nothing. It?s a lot like being told the peace of mind you?re looking for does not exist.

Please act accordingly.

Did I say that out loud?

?Mr. Emon??
?Maybe you can help me. I doubt it, but I don?t know? It?s not something as simple as hallucinations; I don?t think it could really be classified. I hope I?m wrong, but I don?t really think so. Imagine, for one brief second, breaking all the laws of logic and physics and the world that would become of that. No, better yet, imagine that you are the only thing you know to exist in the world, and that everything else is the manifestation of your thoughts. Roll your eyes back in your head and walk inside the wrinkles of your mind?nothing?s tangible, nothing?s real, and reality conforms to your worst fears? My problem stems from the fact that I can percieve two paralell, yet opposing realities at the same degree of clarity, one here, and one...one inside my mind. I have no control over which reality I percieve and when, and slowly, I?m, I?m losing distinction??

?Distinction??

?I mean, the ability for me to decide which reality is ?real?, ?true?, a proper representation of the world around me. It?s not just common sense anymore, it?s not just a matter of logic and falacy, they?re both whole and complete, and perhaps completely real. Sometimes they even bleed into each other? And when you really think about it, when two individual realities can be percieved at the same degree of clarity, deciding which one is right is really just a matter of preference, isn?t it??

?What are you talking about, Emon??

?Are you even listening? Something?s bloody wrong with me! How do I know you?re not just a reprocussion of my condition? Is this even real??

?Emon??

?Damn it! You don?t know what it?s like to be there when worlds mash together?You shouldn?t have brought me here, interrupted me with this crap!?

?Just what, exactly, were you doing that was so important??

?Before you came??


?


I watched the sky fall.[/FONT][/INDENT]

[Ol' Fighter]

Nothing that first part of this is awsome if you don't mind me saying. It really will make you think about the "true" world around you which is actually all precieved by what is believe to be your brain from what I hear.