Friday, August 12, 2022

re:not dead yet & future self

oddly enough (or not), this realisation came to me in a dream. except it was no allegorical or metaphorical type of dream; it was one of those dreams i usually have where my mind forgets it's fallen asleep, and is just carrying about the day like normal (and not-minding the whimsical or fanciful aspects of it).

in the dream, my mind was chewing on the scene i was referring to in 'constantine' (the movie, not the comics), in 'still alive, not dead yet'.

and...in the dream, i was reminded (as i often thankfully am, whether awake or asleep) that it isn't the devil keeping me alive on this earth. and that i'm not...really the one who's fighting demons. i'm letting God (and his angel armies) do it for/ through/ around me. i succeed when i let him, and where i fail, it's because i wanted to step in and take over his job (of saving...everything and everyone, since, he is called Saviour after all).

in the dream, i was also reminded that...unlike the movie's clip, i am indeed better off dead than alive to satan. because good is just as infectious as bad, and so...i guess that's why the devil keeps wanting me to kill myself, so that i make it a lot easier for some of the people i influence to...er, well, if not go to hell (i now don't believe that's where most people will end up, and even if they do, i don't think they'll stay there forever either), then at least live with the vestiges of death in their defeated lives. (defeat itself is a vestige of a type of death i.e. damage and destruction of the mind, will, spirit, and its psychosomatic knock-on effects.)

it's just...been very, very difficult to continue staying resilient when god keeps allowing shit to fly into my face, ever since the hit-and-run that...only made my mother more controlling and micromanaging of my physical (and therefore social and mental-emotional) freedom, as well as throttled my efforts to literally work in a vocation (read: the arts) i've always, adamantly wanted to earn a living from.

i can't say i haven't learnt anything through the process, though. it's just that...this past month, i realised that i could be learning until the day i die and still not have learned it all. which is why i've started praying again for me to be free this year, even though...so far, every fucking year since dec 2014 has been like me stuck in one of those 'groundhog day' movies of perpetual time loops, that never move forward until the protagonist learns whatever-it-is they're supposed to learn out of life.

except...i'm getting increasingly worn down and...god, why does the creation of patience demand tests of having to be patient? (rhetorical question.) and when will this waking nightmare be over? i mean, every day, month and year, i've had to wake up to the same horrible-to-me woman and man i call my parents. 

at least they take turns being difficult, and thank god i can just 'mute' my brother online now, because...this house is already tiny and made-more-cramped-by-parents'-hoarding as it is, for me to handle other humans in the house...especially when i need to use the toilet, and...all i have is the no-ventilation-due-to-unfinished-renovation generic cubicle that every occupant, including visitors (some of which, i've finally had the post-brain-injury fearlessness to scold my parents to stop entertaining, because they keep fucking overstaying their welcome, to see the freak show that is post-accident me).

and every fucking day, i'm still not allowed to drive out, let alone move out and have the freedom to work yet, of this house unless i put up a big mothafucking argument for every single time i want peace and solitude (even if it's for just one hour...usually it's two, because i've found it a lot easier to mentally escape every time i bring a book along for an-excuse-to-have-a-quiet-meal-outside). this effort is so tedious on my brain (more so post-accident) that...i no longer rise up to the challenge every week, because it involves fuckloads of my mother complaining at, nagging and scolding me.

also, i now disagree with 'the four stages of life' (re:'note to future self'). i've realised life doesn't have to be a bitch, so long as the God of Hope is in the picture. and i disagree wholly with the notion that "the influence of one person...will eventually dissipate". one only has to look at history to see that...trends and vogues always go in and out of fashion. 

someone forgotten in the past starts getting remembered because someone 'influential' (in the eyes of the media) picked up on this previously-forgotten person or genre or fad or whatever. anyway, isn't jesus christ one person and still influential, through the ages (despite the debates about his deity or existence as a real man here on earth, instead of the mere stuff of legend)?

i disagree with a lotta things that younger, both pre- and post-accident me used to think. so i thank god for the eyes (of wisdom) to have at least made some progress in that area, while...my current circumstances seem to've come to a standstill ever since a hit-and-run that wasn't even my fault, to begin with.

am itching to say more, but i guess it's not the right time. i keep thinking every year post-accident will be the right time. but instead, i have to keep waiting. and getting crucified almost-daily by my mother in the process. (i thought jesus was crucified so that i no longer have to be. when are my breakthroughs going to happen?)

whatever it is, i'll keep hoping until i die. because i literally can't live without it. (i figured out several years ago, after oliver sacks gave up the ghost in 2015, that...without hope, one might as well just literally lie down and die. without hope, i might as well quit waiting for my life here to get better, might as well pass go and collect $200 in heaven. i mean, without hope, why waste my time assuming i'll be suffering all the way until i die, right?)