Thinking Back

The precipitating incident is given far too much credit in this story. That cacophonous meeting of two objects in motion. Newton's Second Law of Physics- "A body persists in a state of uniform motion or of rest unless acted upon by an external force." Uniform motion disrupted. That's all it was, yet it remains so significant in my thought, if not my memory.

It wasn't a terrible day, if you can imagine. The adrenaline took the pain away for long enough and then the medication for such a long while after. Frivolous wanderings through the strange town of my banishment- frolicking among the snowfall while in a narcotics-induced ecstasy. True joy-- simply the joy of being alive. It seemed like it should be enough.

It isn't enough. I am left wondering if maybe I didn't die-- perhaps literally, perhaps only metaphorically.

I wonder if I'm not a spirit of some kind among "kindred spirits," if you'll pardon the pun, who likewise believe themselves to be among the living. What would be the point of being good if we were aware of our deaths? It is an ethically trick of the gods, to keep us from sinning in our afterlives for their is no further punishment than this ignorance?

Metaphorically- I have lost the life I had that was so free from pain. In which my body wasn't a constant distraction-- I have never been more aware of its existence. I have lost the life in which I was so comfortable just to sit. Even just sitting is the great agony of each day.

Thinking back, it is the everyday that is precipitating- each of the next and the significance of sitting more significant than the collision of two opposing forces. My eyes grow hallower, my spirit dampens, I slouch more and more each day-- towards Bedlem?

It seems so.