I feel like I need to think of something, some idea to make it better. There are too many ideas. "Oh well" seems pretty good.
Today 999999 Eriks die.
Now I am Erik 1 again... whatever happened to him...
Now I am Erik 1, back in one place. Stuck into the hurtling Earth by a pin. Part of the continuous time stream. My idea about this is that it is bullshit and I will die like this and I see it coming with total clarity.
Erik 1 ceased to be able to live without Eriks 2 through 1000000 many years ago. Erik 1 will be frankensteined, supplemented with many small pieces of the usable remains of the Eriks left behind in the time limbo graves scattered throughout "idea-space".
Erik 1 will be a failed and broken character, unable to rejoin what he left, unable to express his deepest regret that he left in the first place, and filled with hate and contempt. He will be understood by no one except the chance roaming frankenstein. But they can only rot together. The rockets will reject him as the young reject the old. All the other 1s will resent him.
I don't want to get fat. I don't want to be tricked into taking the people around me seriously. I don't want to make friends with my co-workers. I don't want to listen to songs about relationships by Kate Nash again and feel compelled because my mind is dead. I don't want to know what bars are good in LA on what nights. I don't want Wurstkuche. I don't want shows. I don't want feeble city gays and their shrivelled skinny 30-something horrible women friends with dry skin looking frightened out of their sunken caved-in flinty eyes. Nooo new good restaurant. No recent college graduate guy. No nice Christian Asians. No balding dude with good taste. No vegetarians. No art. No bicycle. No friends of friends. No ugly vintage dresses on ugly girls who never got picked. No opinions!!!!!!!! No talking about your trip and your vintage camera pictures. Nooooo computer. No open mouth.
That is what I would say if I were giving up. Dying.
I'm a FUCKING ROCKET. I blast off everyday and crash down to Earth every night and get fixed in the morning.
As a rocket, I need to continue blasting off or I will die. I will blast your fucking face off if you try to interfere with my trajectory. I need people who not only live in reality inside their heads, but also don't pretend that they don't know the reality inside their head when they interact with "people" outside their head.
Go away the shocked and surprised. Go away the daunted. Go away the hurt and jealous and dumb and rehashed and feeble. Leave me alone. I want to fly with other rockets to lakes and mountains and the great cities of the Earth and the stars.
Everyone knows inside their own head the same things everyone else knows. Everyone knows reality, even if they aren't aware they know it, they feel it. Even if they've become so used to their patterns of thinking that were first erected to ignore reality, it's still lying there at the base of everything. A deep still pool.
You don't like your boyfriend. You want to get married. You're scared. You're gonna die. You don't want to have sex with someone ugly just because you're old. You want some things to be absolute and the ones you know are absolute to not be. But wishing it really hard, and then acting shocked when it doesn't happen won't change the reality. Even if everyone in the whole world is constantly shocked. Accept reality and stop acting so surprised. Blast off. Blast every single dumbfuck around you sucking you dry of life to quiet their fear's face off and look back and laugh at their scorched, shocked facial expression. Reality. Time travel. The world is your environment. Live as time changes!!!
This assumes the world is real.
I think everything is going to be ok.
I feel excited.
