So today marks six months that I have gone without any cutting or injuring myself. It hasn't been easy, but it is getting easier. I haven't been to therapy for a long while because of schedule fuck ups and vacations etc. I'm sleeping a lot more than normal, when I am awake I'm either watching TV or playing video games. I pretty much don't have a real life, everything is dreams or fantasy.

If you find yourself uncontrollably shifting through time, it's best to avoid tall buildings and man made tunnels.

What if we go back to the beginning every time we die? We basically get the same life, the same situation, time is reset to our births, and we live the same life over again? But there is no fate. So we are prone to small course changes in life, missing a bus and meeting the person you marry on the next one... or as small as going to a party and meeting someone who you aren't really friends with, but now know that you didn't before. We all know that in time travel the smallest change can have a ripple effect that can change the course of the entire world. What if we live the same lives over again, with nothing more than odd memories and flashes of recognition. Ever see a guy walking down the street and you can't remember why he looks familiar? What about Deja Vu? Perhaps that's just an instance of one of your alternative lives crossing paths with your current life. I like the idea of being able to spend a lifetime doing one thing and then spend another lifetime doing something else.

I pondered this statement from an episode of Lost. I guess it means that I am where I am supposed to be, and everything that's happened to me is a result of fate. I like that. I would much rather assume that life is out of our hands and that Fate decides what happens to us, rather than obsess about the past and the bad choices we made. Who's to say if I went back in time and changed history that I wouldn't end up right where I am, doing exactly what I am doing now.

Perhaps there are no coincidences, perhaps every flip of the coin is predetermined. Perhaps free will is only an illusion.

Through tear stained eyes, rimmed red with grief,
sees one dark shape on a pale horse.
A shock of fear, wave of relief,
he sighs, his life has run its course.

The morning sun has shone so bright,
and chased away the darkened fright.
He woke with hope, a sense of pride,
by day's end he'll have only cried.

"Why am I in this world of hate?
I slapped away the Hand of Fate.
This punishment though cruel it be,
I walked the path not meant for me."

Ungentle with the innocent,
Unforceful with the malintent,
Ungrateful for whom he adored,
Unvengeful of what he abhored.

And now his life, its end at last,
and so he spies Death's cold grace.
He sat and watched as life flowed past.
He turned his back on love's embrace.

No soul will mourn this passing day,
on Nature's Earth too long his stay.
With all this pain, we shall relate,
accept our paths, fore it's to late.

©2009 Dale C. Richardson