Skip to main content

Twistedly Scripted

Sometimes (and that time is usually when I'm home alone....which is almost always when I'm home), I wonder about this world...this existence...this life.

And I think...as I'm wondering this weird shit (that always seems to be just below the surface)...am I'm the only one that wonders these things or just the only one that says it aloud?  And by aloud I mean on this blog (or sometimes in my journal).

Oh. The weird shit?

Right. So...sometimes I look around. As I move around. And see bits and baubles of my life. And I think that this is all familiar, but not because it's mine, but because it's scripted to be familiar. Like sometimes I'm playing a role.  I'm in some kind of movie. Or book. And there's this character. This Todd that is in the story. And he's the one going through this life. But he's me. So I guess I'm him. And then I think...if stories are actually reflections of other universes....am I in one of those playing the role of Todd.

I don't know how to explain it really. And I suppose any way that I try to explain it will make me sound somewhat like I need a vacation in a padded room. And I get that. I think what happens is we-as souls-are actually omnipresent in an infinite number of timelines. Of universes. When I dream, I live out pieces in other universes. And in this realm, this timeline, sometimes those others bleed over. And the other Todd's (or whatever the soul is named in those other universes) dreams are sometimes of this timeline. It seems like a dream to that soul, but real to me. Kinda like when I go to Dreamland. That is the reality of my soul's existence in another timeline, but a dream in regards to this timeline.

Again. I'm not sure if this makes any sense. It's crystal clear to me. And no where more tangible than about 3 or 4 in the afternoon on days when I'm off and just milling around my apartment. Things are familiar, but don't really seem like mine.

I...yeah. I got nothing, really. I suppose if there were a way for you to get inside my head for those 45 seconds when it happens, it might make sense to you too. But then again, would you want to? What happens to a person when they are stricken with the thought-virus that this life...this world, is but a shell? A suit that sits in a closet of suits. Each one as real as the one next to it on the rack. Perfectly tailored for the soul that wears it. Some very similar and some completely different. Some posh. Some threadbare, born of poverty. But each one designed for one soul and one soul only. You can't wear any of the suits in my closet and I can't wear any of the suits in yours.

So....when people change their destiny (as much as I hate that phrase), I think what happens is that they start mixing and matching pieces of the suit.   I'm in my 'normal guy, living paycheck to paycheck' suit at the moment. But every now and again, the instance of my soul living in this particular timeline decides to try on the 'World renowned Author' suit coat. It's like I just throw on the fancy blazer with my 'normal' khakis. It works. People still know it's me. And they also see a hint of what I can actually become. What I will be when I set the khakis aside and don the full Armani.

Can it happen? Can I straddle two universes?

I have no fucking idea, to be completely honest. And if I do...does that mean the Todd in the universe where I'm the well-known author will suddenly stop wearing that suit and become a normal dude? I'd like to think not. I'd like to think that on some level, those two timelines can be fused.

But I really don't know. I'm not sure how this all works. And when I say I'm not sure, what I mean is...I have a really good idea how it all works, but the physical construct that surrounds my soul in this particular existence is well aware of the fact that he's bordering on sounding bat-shit crazy and is better off to actually just do it instead of philosophizing about it to the masses.

So. Um yeah.

I think sometimes I need to take a writing course. I feel like I would benefit from a mentor or someone to keep me honest.

Alright...I'm gonna go ahead and let you get back to your own worlds for now. I think I've pulled the loose thread of the carpet of reality enough for one night. I know it's due to unravel, but I'm not sure that's meant to happen tonight.

Goodnight my friends

-A.T.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis. So...no, I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.

Sanity,…

The Kindness of Strangers

This post is going to be a little bit all over the place. If you know me, you are probably used to that by now. If you don't know me, welcome. My name is Todd. I'll be your slightly insecure author and docent on this tour of randomness we call Todd's Mind.

I am going to get a little real, and probably a little raw here today. I would normally be terrified of that. Of exposing myself to the world at large. But in looking at the stats for this blog in the 22weeks or so since I've left Facebook, the reality, I'm exposing myself to about 10 of you. Less if some of you come back and re-read some of the posts. So...yeah. Here goes.

I can count on 1 finger the number of times including today where I have run out of gas. Not talking about pulling into the gas station on vapors, but actually having the car die and coast to a stop because that life-giving dead dinosaur juice was no longer in the tank.

One time.

Today.

It's my own fault. I don't like to admit when I&#…