The flow is blocked by a Beaver dam

Have you once stopped to wonder who you really are?

We think we do this daily; others, are so confident, why they would even consider second guessing what they already know is beyond my scope of knowledge.

Yet what we are here to explore is the possibility of never really being a true single person. Possibly a singular entity, not quite a single mind. This could be more confusing than alluring. To being we can start with the drive into the office. There is an old orchard that was demolished for the upcoming housing development. Too many people and not enough of homes. (We are back at the higher ends of our consumeristic mentality.) I have watched daily as this site expands and they bring in new material, the employee vehicles growing as the work continues forward. The point behind this set up is the idea that has rooted deep into the pits of my brain matter. I want to blow the site up. I want to figure out the best explosives to tear through solid concrete and I want to cause enough destruction to shut down construction until all repairs have been made, rubble and debris completely cleared. I don’t want to hurt anyone and really I am not quite sure I want to find a nice viewing spot. I just want to leave it in my wake. I can’t say that I want to make a statement as much as this would be a crime of sheer opportunity. The perfect location, no surveillance, very little, to no traffic, during the times in which this would occur, of course. Not to mention, the hiding around this area makes this more into a screeching desire that almost forces me to a rather sudden halt each time.

Or even the notion to feed into the thoughts of finally watching a city burn. The thing is, I am not quite picky regarding location or even opportunity and the lives that may end up being taken are of no real concern to me. There is no connection. So why is it that I can plot the down fall of these concrete giants with little remorse. Some would say that we all think this way. The difference is the action.

Action, something that has been putting the world at ends since the beginning of time.

On my tense walk into the office, I was thinking of the ways to best bring down a city. Do we utilize the sewer systems? Or do I find a way into the lower levels of our tallest buildings. Place bombs inside the lobbies of all business, under cars parked on the first floor of parking garages. Then you wonder, “Well, what type?” or “How do you want to set up the fuse. Maybe you want to watch this one.” Or then again maybe you don’t. Maybe this can be an isolated incident and only one suffers so the many can be worry free.

Why punish the masses for the misdoing of one.

When asked that question I will answer several different ways. What though do attribute these varying answers? Are my personality traits trying to disassociate themselves?

I will have many say I am using and morphing that definition into something that well suits me. That could be true. It could also be true that I am not who I say I am. Nor, are you.

I dress to hide the side, which wishes nothing more than to see, burning bodies running through the street, to hear the lullabies of speeding bullets and grown men shrieking in fear. I dress to keep inside me. Don’t you? Isn’t that what the new haircut is or the new sports coat, which helps you better blend.

I dressed up a few nights ago and wondered at this creature in the mirror. Who was she and what was she willing to do, where even was she willing to go. Would she run away and give up everything. I thought she would. I am surprised she didn’t. The car was turned around and she drove home. Which she, took us there? Which me brings me home every night. Which me seeks out help and guidance, which me screams for something more dark. Some may say that is who you are. That is everything that is you. Yet, don’t you wonder who you would be if you made a different decision. Understood you may not be where you are but what about who you are?

The changes I am hinting at are far more embedded in us than that which can still be seen. The inherited mental traits and genetics. The building blocks of who you are that can easily be buried or turned to other sights. Just as those that were born and destined for true greatness are only victims of circumstance. I have heard many stories of late, how others overcome an obstacle or hindrance and do the almost unthinkable. What if that is not really them? That person that was hundreds of meters down caught under rocks with no way out other than to cut away that which held them there. Who do you think came out of that situation? Do you know the person you became, down in those depths. When the darkness is all encumbering, who is it you let out? Is it a survivor, someone that lays down and dies or possibly a monster that fought its way out and left you behind in the dark depths that have no end, no bottom to finally hit; an endless falling.

Can you ever be one person? Just someone that grows and changes. Is that what we consider the norm? Yet those that have broken away and become that which they are, only solely this time. No way to be held down or back. A letting go and coming truly into one’s own. What a unique perspective on disassociation. How is we can be so quick to dismiss an unusual due to what we now consider to be the norm.

It is like thinking along the line of: when you pass there are about seven minutes of brain activity that happens. It has been thought that maybe during this time, when your life is played out before your eyes, which seems to slow down. Almost so that you could be reliving that moment again, in what possibly feels like real time. So, with that in mind who is not to say that we have all ceased to exist many a moon ago and yet we are only each living out our seven minutes. Due to forever repeat as we continue to die in that seven minutes only to see it all play out once more.

Along such lines would you not think that you could possibly split off somewhere, become someone else. May that time line forgot about you, but you did not it.

Maybe this all got out of hand somewhere and we are now letting our mind float far beyond the stars.

Then again maybe this is a notice to wonder more and never accept what you don’t know for truth. Maybe my readers this is just another rambling of young soul with too many words to wade through.