Sometimes I wish I had a twin. It would be nice to have someone to share with. Birthdays, clothes, thoughts, books, friends, secrets, everything. But then that little voice in my head cuts into my daydreaming and tells me I would not want to have a twin.
And I ask, why not?
It tells me it wouldn't be nice to share the attention, the secrets, the friends, because one always gets more than the other. Rule of nature, apparently. I don't want to believe this voice, because it's the voice that makes us feel better about what we are missing. By being bitter, by being blunt, by being downright annoying. It nags us till we think "oh screw that, I'm better off without it."
That is what The Voice does. But it is also my best friend. How do you tell your oldest friend to back out of your life, when that friend is in your head? Not in any imaginary alien form, not in any tangible form. Just there, floating between the emptiness that connects your mind and the rest of the universe. Pretentious much? I think not.
But yes, The Voice. So this voice thing/ person ( because that's how I think about it) and I had many conversations. When I was a lonely child roaming around in the garden of our old house ( which was big and prett) pretending to talk to flowers, midafternoon. The flowers were usually asleep back then, so I resorted to talking to The Voice, because it was awake, and because it wanted to argue. Or talk. It was then I wondered, as all lonely little children might everyonceinawhile, what was there before God was. And the voice cut in again, in it's characteristically bossy/smug tone, and said "Silly! God was ALWAYS there." And I used to wonder. What was this God person, and how could he/she/it have been around forever? And when there was nothing? And when there was nothing, what was there? Huge empty blackness? But if there was huge empty blackness, there was something. I would wonder endlessly till I had a headache and gave up. Eventually I stopped wondering, reflecting, thinking, because it gave me nothing but headaches. Blind faith took over instead.
And then, when i used to get tired of thinking about this God character and the Forever-ness, I used to think about mankind. Silly little things about ourselves. For instance, what if we were just a collection of thoughts floating about midspace. A big jumble of thoughts, which materialised into humans, but were actually just these cell-like dots, scattered around in the vastness of space. And what if the stars were clusters of dead thoughts, which returned to their original states and became grouped together in order to form a burial ground (sky, space?) of sorts for the dead-thoughts-that-were-once-people.
I don't make much sense. I never pretended to, pointlessness being my forte. But the thoughts in your head don't usually have to make sense when you're 10 and roaming around in the garden under the hot sun, all lonely and thoughtful.
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