Nothing's Here

Nothing's here yet, just thoughts. A stream of unending thoughts, pouring through my fingers onto this page without pause. What will I think of next? Will it be extraordinary? Mundane? What if one were to consider the same piece of work something special one day and later on in life consider it mundane, a work not worth their time? I suppose that's the point of an opinion, it's allowed to change. Change with the times, change with their lives…change. Change. Change. Change. It's a never ending cycle of something that has never stayed the same. What is the purpose of our world? Maybe we'll eventually breed into a species of super-powered humans, like that show Heroes my friends are so adamant in watching. Sometimes I wonder what the hell that show's about and sometimes I think I'd rather sit here in ignorance of it and frustrate my friends.

Have you ever done that? Have you ever done something just to frustrate another? I do that, but it's not out of spite. No, not really. I like to watch people react to things. I think that's why I don't think before I speak, if I were to choose my words carefully when I spoke I would never know how people would react to them. People react to words just as they would actions and arguments and physical confrontations and events and just life in general.

Life is a length of time where we survive by reacting. If you can't react to something, you stagnate, you don't move forward and the times leave you behind. As some people are so fond of saying "Time waits for no man". And I would have to agree. If time were to wait for us we would never move on with our lives. We would exist forever in a single moment and never know the future, simply the past.

The past does us little good in the future, it helps us in the present. In the present you can use what you've learned in the past to improve yourself, to make a choice, to move on.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this.

Someone told me that dreams were proof that we were getting extra sleep at night. But I think dreams are the subconscious mind's way of telling you things, of inspiring the artistic and helping the distressed. Some people believe all dreams have meanings, regardless of how out there a dream can be. I don't fully agree. I think dreams have meanings, but only sometimes. When you dream of people doing something, like creating a new fantastical weapon or trying to seduce a roommate, I think those kind of dreams mean something. It may mean you need to try something radically different and see what you can create, it may even mean you're about to enter a short stage in your life where you're going to need to fight in order to move forward. Or it could mean you're lonely and willing to seduce your roommate or best friend in order to find love or just have someone to hold, or it could mean you need to seduce that girl you've been crushing on for God only knows how long and get laid. But when they're nonsensical, i.e. getting kidnapped by a UFO run by a crap-load of Crayola crayons, I don't believe they have meaning behind them. I think it's either your sub-conscious screwing with your conscious mind (everyone needs their own hobby) or just a way of inspiring the artist in you, be it with words or pictures or a blend of both.

So the point of my disagreement to her theory? I believe that when we dream our minds are actually working overtime. Or if we are getting more sleep when we dream than the way that we wake, the reason that we're so damned tired in the morning (or afternoon depending on when you actually fall asleep) is because that our waking has prematurely ended a dream of importance and we need to go back to sleep in order to discover the ending and, quite possibly, the meaning that comes with some dreams.

I've always wondered why I can't remember that point in time where I go from waking to sleeping. It's like I'm awake one moment, then darkness (or a short movie if I'm dreaming), then it's time for me to wake up again. I've never felt entirely rested after a night of sleep, I don't think my mind really shuts down, I think it simply slow down enough for me to black out and then speeds up again for my dreams, at that point it's working for the rest of the day.

Though I know several people who could probably argue that; sometimes I find myself walking around in a daze during the day, barely registering anything until I come into physical contact with something or someone. When I'm in a daze, things are hazy, my eyelids heavy, and I'm always in some kind of motion. If I'm sitting, my foot is tap-tap-tapping away under the table or desk or I'm rocking side-to-side, often times back and forth, without any knowledgeable reason. Sometimes I do both. And it worries my friends to no end. (I wonder about that. What about my need for constant movement worries them?) Though, as I've said before, I sometimes rock for the sake of getting a reaction out of someone.

It's not always out of the need for a reaction though, I know it's not because I crave attention. I think the need to get a reaction out of someone is often times related to the need to distract them from a problem they're dealing with or to keep them from getting bored. By getting them to focus on me, they ignore their problem for a little while or are distracted from their boredom.

I just lost my train of thought. I'm not even sure what the hell I was going on about. I do that sometimes. I rant and rave about something, pause for a moment, and then confusion sets in and the question. That's the always the kicker. "What was I talking about?" You know you have a short attention span when…

When a shiny object from across the room catches your attention and you pause mid-sentence.

When you find something of interest that is really kind of mundane but keeps you entertained for hours on end anyway.

When you're talking about something, pause in mid-sentence, and continue talking about a totally irrelevant topic.

I know these things because one of my best friends has a short attention span. Well, I don't know if you'd call us best friends as much as two people who have known each other for more than three years and insult each other as a way to entertain themselves when trying to harm the other becomes boring. Yes, our relationship is really like that. I'll tell you something though, the girl keeps you entertained. She's a music major who breaks out into random song; times are never boring.

A short attention span is when you have three different documents open on your computer and you're continually switching through them and working on them without getting confused.

I have ideas. Ideas on top of ideas sometimes. I'm currently working on a play about a man with schizophrenia. I have a plan to start a series of short stories about the dreams I have, just quick little things that describe what went down so I won't forget them…

I have a dream…! That one day everyone will stop being so goddamned stubborn and just learn to get along. I have a dream…! About disfigured cartoon characters fighting it out in a weird land with lots of crates and makeshift homes. I have a dream…! About Aang from Avatar where he has wings and I totally kick his ass three ways from Tuesday. Go me.

I have a dream…! Where I will one day write a book that will be loved by the people who read it, and I'll be able to live off of the money my book makes so I can comfortably stay home and work leisurely on architectural designs and interior designs for the houses I draw. Where I'm in my late twenties and I'm sharing a house with the people I love and am content with life.

I have a dream…! Where I seduce my female roommate, but am rejected. Where I find the woman of my dreams (pun unintended) and she returns my affections, my feelings, my love. Where I have created a world of sea-based creatures who are being attacked by cat-like creatures out for their destruction. Where my best friend and I are attacked by zombies and we create a new life with other survivors in the span of two years. Where I am in a relationship with a girl who looks like one of my cousins but isn't her. Where I accidentally ignore my best friend in favor of a video game and am eaten away by the resulting guilt. Where I help a pale, half-naked young man escape from his isolation and learn that "You are who you are" and nothing will ever change that. Where I am running through halls and beating up people in black cloaks and am eventually helped by my enemies. Where I can't remember anything once I am awake.

I have a life…where I have an unrequited love that will never be requited. Not even in the escape of my dreams.

It's an hour and a half later and I return to my thoughts. Lost in a wave of ideas, of inspiration, of dreams, of wishes, of voices, of memories. I am left in a sea of confusion, trying to straighten out all that I've heard and seen. Maybe perhaps someday I'll be able to decipher all of my thoughts. But I'm not quite sure I want to, wandering and re-discovering thoughts long past is only a part of the adventure of simply being a thinking creature.

This is the end of a new beginning. A start of a new story. This is where my thoughts come together, cluttered and organized all at once.

A changing scene made up of many illusions. A shifting series of phantasms, illusions, or deceptive appearances, as in a dream or as created by the imagination. Fantastic imagery as represented in art.

This is Phantasmagoria.