Shad's Writings

The human experience is multifaceted. So multifaceted in fact that most lifetimes are not enough to take in the true breadth of manifestations that our daily- and nightly lives may take. Whether it be intellectual, emotional or tactile, every person knows something that a notable portion of other people do not. Therefore I should, ostensibly, not highlight in my own mind how separated I often feel from the human experience. Entire realms of the world will pass me by regardless, whether it pertains to topics of academia, hobbies common and rare, communal activities, countless roles of employment etc.

Yet perhaps some aspects of humanity can be said to be more fundamental and basic, think for example of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, thus justifying this splinter in my brain that declares my own "otherness" : My introversion, social anxiety and tendency towards emotional overheating.


Adjacent to a forest nearby where I live, there is a place with a name that can be translated as "Oldtown". Buildings from the late 1800s and early 1900s are preserved here. Old-timey houses, shops, cobblestone streets and a fancy dance floor define the aesthetic. Actors, dressed for the time period, roam the streets and sometimes enact short plays out in the open. Their devotion to the craft is especially impressive when they wear all those thick layers of clothing even during the worst summer heat. Enter the forest and you'll see the aesthetic continue with old wooden fences marking animal enclosures.

People of all ages, and especially families, come here to socialize and take in the sights. During these pandemic times it is arguably a bad sign that I often see this place brimming with activity. Limited social distancing and nobody other than me wearing a mask. But my social brain overtakes me and I am instead filled with joy. The sight is too classically idyllic. People, young and old, talking and laughing. Families eating ice cream. Children playing. Athletes running in- and out of the forest tracks. Dancing couples on the dance floor, sometimes to the accompaniment of actual musicians playing on physical instruments.

The scene promotes certain phrases to echo in my head.
"So this is what life looks like"​
"This is what it means to be human"​
"Life is out there and it's beautiful"​

Mayhaps that I am suffering from the outsider's illusion. I am not privy to the anxieties and troubles that may be occupying the visitors to this lovely place. All I can truly say is that from the outside it looks like the people who come to this place, actors and visitors alike, are in their element. They look free and jolly in this Swedish Hobbiton.


When I imagine what it feels like to be human, at least in this idealized sense, I imagine the feeling of being "out there" and NOT being afraid. To enter a café not with a trembling psyche but with breath so steady you don't even think about it. To not always fear that your gaze, however temporary, might offend somebody. To be able to join in the dance, hearing the music of life in the same way that the other dancers do.

I've caught glimpses of this precious experience of feeling in tune with the fundamental social life of being a human. Moments, sometimes during or sometimes afterwards, where I realized I was not consciously "acting" human, but just "being" human. Precious moments bereft of fear, awkwardness, tense shoulders and mental exhaustion. Harmony rather than dissonance. Sometimes transcendence, sometimes an unusual sense of...normality.


My story from visiting Oldtown reveals that even in my supposed "otherness" I am still tapping into a very important, positive human trait: Appreciating life where life happens. Thus, even when I don't know how to dance, I can still assure myself and confidently say that, fundamentally...I belong.
 
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Copy-pasting one of my recent dreams that I wrote down in the Dreams thread. I am honestly impressed at times by the creativity woven into my dreams.


The Mad Mage & The Computer Genie

Using my powers as a chaotic mage I made my way to a spiritual plane where a genie resided. The genie sensed my dubious intent and did their best to hide their lamp from me; a lamp that, if I caught it, would grant me the right to decide my definitive lifespan. The genie tried hiding the lamp in mist and teleporting it randomly but my teleportation technique was faster and thus the lamp was caught.

Admitting defeat, the genie conjured a computer from the 1980s. The way that this power of magical life extension worked was that the genie would type the digits representing exactly how many years the person was to live. Requesting an infinite lifespan was not in the cards, for that concept had no meaning in the logic of neither the genie's magic nor their computer's circuitry.

Being a chaotic mage I was always in the mood to invite more madness in my life. Best way to do that was to predestine a ridiculously long life. Starting out with the number '100' on the computer screen, I ordered the genie to add another zero to enlarge the number of years I was to live. And another zero. And another. Like a host pouring coffee into a cup, the genie said "Say 'when'." to indicate when they should stop adding zeroes.

The genie was sweating. I was refusing to say 'when'. The metaphorical cup was overflowing to the point that even the room itself was drowning. The logarithmic increase of my lifespan made the genie morally conflicted on two accounts. Firstly, they knew the madness that such a long life would bring. Secondly, "programming" a person to exist even beyond the intended heat death of the universe could cause the fabric of reality to shatter...somehow.

The screen had now filled with so many zeroes that the initial '1' that started out the series was no longer visible. My lifespan was now easily above the 10^100 years range. Even my own resolve was beginning to waver. I wanted chaos, I wanted defiance against creation, I wanted to ignore all sanity and reason just to show that it could be done. But a voice in my head was begging me to consider this incomprehensible curse that I was placing on myself by living beyond even the evaporation of the final black hole in the universe. I ignored that voice of self-preservation...and still did not say 'when'.

In a moment of panic, the genie employed magical programming to make it so that the computer screen flashed red as an indicator that my predestined lifespan was about to cause an overflow in the universe. The red flashes did succeed in triggering my own panic response. I caved in and said 'when' at the point when my predestined lifespan had reached somewhere around 10^500. Chances were good that my existence would not lead to the collapse of all of potential reality.

The reality was still that I had now, by some metrics, transcended death. My chaotic rebelliousness against the universe would now continue for more years than any human, including myself, could possibly grasp the true length of.
 
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