Chapter Twenty-one

Sometimes, I feel like everything goes in a circle.

The water cycle. That whole 'matter is neither created nor destroyed' stuff. The thin line between love and hate is because they're pretty much the same thing.

It's hard to imagine a beginning of the earth. When we were born, the earth was there. When we will die, the earth will be there. Who's to say the earth even had a beginning? It could have just always existed.

You can go on and on about scientific theories, figuring out things for yourself. But it'll always only bring a thousand more questions that are ten times harder to answer.

What's the point of progress? We'll all just end up dying.

I had this idea in my head one time that time doesn't really exist. That when you die, you're reincarnated as someone on the earth, whether it's in the past or the future doesn't apply.

That's why it's important to learn history. So you can change it.

But you can't change a thing. You can, but you won't realize there's a difference later. Because you wouldn't know the first thing that happened.

So it's pointless.

And that theory evolved into there only being one soul on earth and that it is reincarnated as everyone you know, everyone you don't know, everyone you learn about in class. I'm living billions of lives at the same time, but I don't realize it because there's no such thing as time.

So every time you fall in love, you're really falling in love with yourself. All you ever hate is yourself. Anyone who disgusts you, anyone who you insult or call ugly. That's you.

I wish I was around when they were writing the Bible.

Doesn't that make you feel good about yourself? You were or will be Einstein.

You were or will be Jack the Ripper.

Great, eh? Just great.

The order organizes the stupidity. Your first life, you were the stupidest human being to have ever walked the earth.

Don't feel bad, so was I. Nice to meet you, me.

Then, as you go on, you get smarter. You think more. Don't criticize stupidity. You used to be the same idiot. Racism, bigotry, homophobia. It's just you in your early stages.

Don't think about it.

You got or will get smarter as you go on. Experience, you know. Gets to the point where you're at your golden age. All the geniuses in the past, all the geniuses in the future. Congrats. That was you and I.

But then you got older and wiser, and that line between genius and insanity, you walked over that. And you built a wall on it, made sure you'd never cross again.

That's the east wall of my fortress. Of your fortress.

Trapped.

You'll keep thinking more, keep getting worse. Start killing people. Killing yourself. From here on.

It'll only get worse.

So don't judge people, don't bully people. You'll only hurt yourself.

Unless you're more insane than they are. Then you've already suffered through that life.

I'd like to think that it goes in a circle, that as soon as you get as fucked up as possible, you'll go back to being as stupid as possible.

But you'll never stop getting worse, because there's no limit.

So you should enjoy this life you have right now. 'Cause it's better than your next one.

But it's hard. When your mind's being ripped apart, it's easy to think about how good it feels to not be having your mind ripped apart.

But when you aren't, especially if you never felt it, it's hard to be grateful for how your feeling since you can always find something to complain about.

I didn't ask for this, so I can whine. Is that right?

Just try, okay? For me. For yourself, just try to enjoy how fucking lucky you are.

I can't. But maybe you still can.

But you can't, because you're me. So we're both fucked.

After hearing that, isn't it hard to hate now? Hard to cut people off on the street, even? You used to think you were the only one with feelings, and you were right. Just didn't realize that you're everybody.

I try not to think like that anymore, because it hurts my head. And it doesn't matter. I can't do anything to change it anyway. This isn't some movie, where I find some magical shit and everything gets all better.

There's no happy ending, but it's always happier than your next ending. Doesn't that make it happy?

Just remember. Next time you spread rumors. Next time you hit someone. Next time you kill someone. Next time you rape someone. You're doing it all to me. To yourself. To everyone you've ever loved.

Does it make sense? Probably not to you. But it does to me. And all I care about is myself, because that's all there is.

A/N - Sniffle.

If you think like that all the time, you would scream at everyone you pass about how they screwed you up.

So there. My daily philosophical rant for you. All original. But not really, 'cause you thought of it.

Aren't you looking foward to being me?

:D

I'm looking foward to being you just so I can review this story that you as me are going to write in the future to make myself feel good about me.

Whoa. That made no sense at all.

I think I was trying to tell you to review. Yeah, we'll go with that, that's always the safe route.

So, go on then.