"For one of those gnostics, the visible universe
was an illusion or, more precisely, a sophism.
Mirrors and fatherhood are abominable
because they multiply it and extend it."
-Jorge Luis Borges

Sometimes I'll watch and wonder how they decide to do anything. I'm in a state of near catatonia, paralyzed by the barrage of information and choices, unable to move. I watch this person decide to get up. Away they go and here I stay. I walk into the grocery store and after an hour I still have nothing in my basket.

An older black woman walks on the bus. She puts her ticket in the ticket acceptor. She surveys the contents of the bus. She selects a seat. Immediately she begins talking. What is she saying? Where were these words created? I'm reminded of television static.

I look at these people who make decisions and I see either monsters or frightened children. What do they want? Are they chasing after that ogre, humping the American Dream? Do they want to be human beings again? Are they making choices based on what they heard that morning on Today? Is their God really Bryant Gumble? I suspect the worst, because surely any sane person would find it impossible to make even the simplest of decisions in this video game.

I don't want to go into an analysis of our complicated society. This story is a celebration of my 30th year on this planet. Certainly I can imagine worse lives. I suppose I've met plenty of people with worse lives than me, at least from my perspective.

Somewhere inside of me I thought that if I had a car-tv-job I could maybe find some meaning, the same meaining that others seem to have found. Suddenly I have all of those things and I'm paralyzed. I can barely pick myself up off the bathroom floor in the morning to go to my cubicle. Why? Who knows? As soon as I pin something down it seems absurd. There are too many variables, too many intersecting realities to determine where all of this crap comes from.

Not even the thought of death is very comforting. I didn't exist for 10 billion years. Suddenly this group of matter that at one time was spread all over space, which was at one time part of our Sun, is suddenly grouped together in such a way that it can perceive its surroundings and to some extent manipulate it. Shouldn't I take advantage of this before it all spreads back out again? I feel that I should. So why does this flesh casing torment me? What's happening here? All I know is that if I had any faith in some so called afterlife I would've done myself in a long time ago. As it is I'm trapped in this swirling chaos of perception unable to let go.

So what do I do? I guess the important thing is making myself happy, eh? Try to fit in, relax, learn to enjoy losing, don't fight it. It's important to stay calm. I have a truck now. I'll go to the mountains, visit friends. I'll work out and try to stay slim. I'll excel at my job 50 weeks a year and spend the other two in Puerto Vallarta. I'll marry a well-adjusted girl, have a couple of kids.

A fumbling fool or village idiot will tell you that you are ridiculous. A clergyman will tell you that you are a creation of God. It doesn't really seem to matter who is right or wrong. Everything you hear is the same beautiful song, the song of this universe whispering its answers in your ear.