I died. That’s right you’re reading the musings of the dead. Officially when I was seventeen I died during a procedure to see why I wasn’t able to breath. I woke up to a literal brand new world.
My brain for some strange reason needed oxygen. It dried up. Without it, my brain forgot a lot and still won’t remember anything from my previous life. I didn’t know my family, I had no memory of my childhood to that point in October of 1977, but strangely I knew who the president was Jimmy Carter.
All the memories good or bad of childhood and the teen years was lost with no baggage claim number to call. My life hit the reset button and at the age of eighteen I started to learn about the world as an adult. No fears, no ideals, I was introduced to mankind with no preconceived ideas.
I didn’t like what I found.
A father out of control with rage, a mother on the cross, everyone saying one thing and doing another. Told my obligation was to attend a religion. There I found the host around me doing their time like students in detention with their minds already in the parking lot instead of attending to those words…
Words about love.
I’m not from here I’ve known that since I woke up in the hospital bed with my ribs broken and my neck bent back. I’m supposed to be dead. What keeps me is an idea. Some call it the better angels of man’s soul if that even exists which so far mankind on it’s whole doesn’t demonstrate that it has one. However, a man who also lost his life, his love gave expression to a revealed truth.
The world, the universe remains neutral over the fight between good and evil. All we have in the end is each other. It’s our duty nay our privilege to make each other’s world a better place in so far as we can.
Sanity may be madness but the maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be. – Don Quixote