I’m taking a break from writing my story today. I’m stuck. I’m at a point in my story that I haven’t really taken the time to process or deal with, much less write out. The first 5 parts, I worked on for the last 3 years, off and on, whenever my mind wandered back into that realm of reality.
And what is reality? For me, reality is like hearing the thoughts of not only myself, but of others as well. It’s like billions of different voices running rampant in my brain, a constant flutter and flurry of glimpses into the unknown. They come as impressions, subtle changes, instinctive primal urges, perceptions, emotions, sensory input (sight, smell, touch, taste, sound), outside influences – people pushing their will onto others… so much.
Your reality and my reality are not the same. No two people share the same reality. No two people share the same perception of reality. We are only offered glimpses into one another’s reality, as the glimpse of a thought, through shared moments. But even those shared moments are perceived differently by each person. Are we truly this alone?
For some, these are the treasures of life. For others, their internal dialogue and constant bombardment of sensory overload gives way only in quiet solitude and comfort of MIND, the perfect oneness of all, a collective consciousness. Is it no wonder that a world in chaos creates a mind of chaos?