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Fantastic Realit-ies and Delud-

ed Nihilism wit-hin the Dimen-sional Webs of

MisconductBy Brandon O’Connor

© Brandon O’Connor 2011

Cover image “...................................” by Krystal South.

brandonoconnor.wordpress.com

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As I lay here and the sound of my roommates from the living

room interrupts my thoughts I think of wasted time, she’s

happy now you know that she’s happy, that bitch was there, I

met Melissa when I was a virgin, and how my time being

wasted right now is not as enjoyable because I cannot think, do

you want to see his photo, why you looking like, and is time

ever really wasted or is life so meaningless that we are not here

for any reason and we are all going to die sometime (soon)

anyway and it still depresses me that most artists do not get to

live to see their work commemorated so vastly, if ever, he

smelled so bad, well thank you baby, it wasn’t good, I mean it

happened but it was okay, let’s get it over with, or at all,

because they are simply dead and I do not believe in an

afterlife where you can peer over clouds and watch the

products of your mortal life influence the world, maybe even

exponentially, and I do not believe, two, want number one, she

was running away from, that any of the things we accomplish

in life matter to anyone but ourselves, which leads me to a

certain deep nihilism, think of those billions of individuals, like

you and I, that lived in the 15th century, or whatever century,

because they are all the same to people in the future, I’m

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confused, what is she stealing from, she’s Shivon’s right now

because Shivon’s suicide, and they all had lives they lived, and

countless probably worked hard without any recognition of

existence today, so what survives, the few, so it’s like, how can

I make both of you a part of my life if you want to shut him out ,

who made themselves immortalized, who stood as figureheads

of their society, is it their society that remains remembered, are

we all just products of our society, inescapable, like worker

bugs and a queen only remembered as an anthill, or a nuisance

in a garden, and if so why am I pushed with so much vigor to

create something of myself and wield my talents into art,

become a person, because I could strive my entire short life to

make something of myself and then what, she was smart, I am

dead and do not exist and cannot understand what it feels like

to be remembered anyway or to strive for something, and I can

live my life like I want, right, because there is no court

awaiting me at some distant reality, but that means there is no

justice, and there is no injustice, then what are these feelings

that surge about my limbs when I witness the utterly wrong, the

feeling of helplessness I understand when it comes from the

police force that we are paying, how the hell you gonna,

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choiceless of that, no I’m just distracted right now, there are

more important, no it’s fine, that are within more freedoms, in

a certain light, because they are the police force, so what

happens when we are forced to support a corrupt establishment,

for the lesser part, I am sure, and would not argue that it does

not bring about much good and peace, there is no end until

death, and when that comes it is over, not even over but

incomprehensible to us, for “over” signifies time and there

being something to have started with that is now finished, but

when you are dead there never was a starting point, there is not

even a now, so we are forced in this life to, relax we got to be

fair, truth sort of, the, live without many choices, for we are the

product of our environment, of our parents, them the product of

an almost infinite line of living creatures, all the way back to

bacteria, back to pure ungathered protons and electrons in a

vacuum, and the choices we do make do not matter because we

may live our life happily but had we lived it sad it would all be

the same when you are dead, you will be remembered shortly,

maybe for a long time, but time lasts a long time, and it is

bound to forget you in its past, and is this existence worth it

when you can be so happy and only be happy because we need

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sadness to have happiness, we need loneliness to feel loved, is

it worth it to have an inarguably terrible time your short time

here in this dimensional reality, and then only to leave it for

nothingness, which we cannot fathom, where worth does not

exist, or maybe I have this all wrong, maybe there is something

after death, in particular the theory of the eternal return,

doomed, like Sisyphus, to be born in this world and live your

life the same way repeatedly, repeating, like a boulder up a hill,

struggling through your existence, and then time plays out, the

universe ends, then it starts up again, the cause and effect way

our universe loves to work means that all atoms will be created

in the same way, they will expand into the universe with the

energy of something so mighty we cannot understand it, and

stars will form in their same respective locations to each other,

and planets will form where they did, and we will form where

we are, and I will be born to my mother and father and

eventually move to the apartment I am in right now with my

roommates outside making chatter that is now

incomprehensible but still keeping me from thinking clearly,

and I will write this word here, here, here, that was my joke,

I’m not done talking about it, as I am now, and now, and this

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all feels eerily like I have done this before, it continues right

now, I make you breakfast in bed, I make you breakfast in bed,

I’m awake now, slap, I thought she, I’m Jesus and I will

sacrifice myself for, so now what is the point, the point is, how

does Tiara wake up with, look at that shit though, we have been

going, the point is that the universe either goes forever and we

are alive for a small part of it, then dead and it does not seem to

matter what we do with our life, or it ends sometime, as things

tend to do, and also as things tend to do, starts back up again,

and we are only aware of our present existence being played

out repeatedly, what did we do to the gods, this cruel and

unusual punishment, paying for the corrupt establishment

which keeps us so suppressed in this reality, this inescapable

prison cell of our corporeal body, do we get a say in this

punishment, I am unaware of my atrocious act, so why do I

suffer, forgetfulness may be a part of the punishment, the

cruelty, so that we are doomed to suffer injustice eternally, and

that is all, there is no justice, it does not need justice to exist as

injustice, though we are aware of it, something we know we

need and deserve but it does not exist and is unattainable, the

roads smell like spoiled milk, to clean those jeans, it was

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disgusting, I think it’s so funny that, and now that I know that,

but injustice does exist, without any afterlife, only this life, the

unattainable taunting us with its knowledge of what can be had,

but not for us, not for me, or maybe there is a third possibility,

maybe we are reborn into a new body, reincarnation, which

scientifically makes sense, as do the other possibilities,

reasonably our body deteriorates into the earth as bacteria

consumes our immobilized prison cell and energy escapes into

the grass which makes it grow and is consumed by bugs, and

birds, and bigger birds, and hunters, in succession, and we are

all consuming so it makes a little sense that the energy which

constitutes our mind can be regathered into a new living thing

and constitute its mind, but it would not be the same mind,

energy, whatever that is, can probably not find the same bits of

energy that constitutes your current mind, but will drift in

pieces, spread, latch onto new dead people or animal or plant

energies, and reformulate into a person far ahead in the future

and you will be one piece of energy amongst umptillions of

pieces in this mind, but it will think of itself as one, you will

call yourself I, much as you are doing now, with your

collection of “souls” in your mind, made up of those dead

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things that made its way into you by consumption, and it can

all be traced back to the One bit of energy, prior to the Big

Bang, so really we can say that our bits of energy are all the

same, but that means our minds are all the same, and does that

make sense, it can be interpreted as consciousness, collective

maybe, and writing all of this down has allowed me to get

some shit off my chest, and I feel a lot better now, perhaps I

was a bit pessimistic before, perhaps that is just because

collective consciousness makes me think of God, the

singularity, that we exist in Its mind, because It is not a man,

nor a woman, something else, really opposite actually, actually

God is not else, but everything, inescapable, does our mind

have ideas that desire so much to exist outside of us, is that

what art is, the escape of ideas, can we escape this reality for a

better reality, not bound by the confines of this God’s walls,

wills, capabilities, what exists outside of God, how do ideas

enter Its mind, imagination and ideas are said by David Hume

to come from images outside ourselves, we can imagine a

unicorn because we have seen a horse and have seen a horn and

we can put them together, we can imagine a golden mountain,

not because it must exist somewhere, but because we have seen

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a mountain and the color gold, I was like this, she got her leg

on me, she snapped at Eric the other day, she was hanging out

with her boys and she snapped on him, so how does God

imagine the universe we have now, there must be something

outside of It which It has seen, maybe misconstrued into what

we think of as paradoxes, so this universe does not have to be

perfect because of that, but if what God created in the universe

exists outside Itself, meaning God is looking basically at the

same thing we are looking at: space, stars, planets, plants,

people, is having the same ideas we are having: love, injustice,

wonder at what constitutes Its reality, confusion, and really

God is as clueless as we all are, then God, audio tape recorded

just weeks before, is sitting at this computer right now, writing

Its thoughts on existence, is reading this post in the future from

Its laptop, is eating Thai delivery while cuddled with Its

significant other and watching a movie, because I am God and

You are God, as, so often is said, we are all a part of God,

which means outside of this reality that we know, is a reality

exactly the same, pardoned possibly, we will never know, at an

air show, am I right, men are like men, by the formulations of

different things seen by God, which also means that within our

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minds is a universe entirely of its own, you seen Chloe,

nevermind, fourteen years, broken surfboard, just drop in,

recognize it, hyper aware, fish tacos, even when you’re surfing

you still use sound effects, with little people trying to figure out

what the fuck is going on, umptillions of them, each

independently figuring out the universe you have created for

them, and at least one will refer to you as It, and within their

mind a universe again, etcetera, so what we have is an infinite

web of universes, above and below us, and if we use our

imagination to create new things within our mind’s universe,

and within our universe itself, our ideas escaping our bodies,

then those things would be thought of as illegitimate, for

example, the universe within us could contain a unicorn, but

more probable is the idea of a unicorn, because we do not

believe these things to actually exist, therefore our mind’s ideas

(beings) would not as well, but for the sake of the exposition I

will say that if they exist, that is merely a part of their reality,

and within their subsequent universes there are diluted images

of such things, and new ones, clearer than ours, that exist and

do not exist, because existence, even within this mind of God,

is only an imagined thing, the imagination stemming from the

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consumption of images and ideas outside Itself, and the

explication of thoughts escaping Itself, and that is all we are,

and It is, consumers and explicators, buyers and sellers, in and

out, like the lungs of humans and plants, that’s what ESPN

stands for, what, his shirt, entertaining and sports

programming network, we are then tangled in the web of

dimensions, of realities, of gods, of ideas, of each other, of

existence, and to die is not to leave the web, or does the web

cease to exist when we die, are we all living out our lives

simultaneously, but at different points in time, and when I die,

you die within your reality, does the Egyptian slave die within

hers, does the cockroach die one hundred, thousand years from

now due to a crack in the earth’s crust and lava flowing over

the rocks, spewing flames upon the wild jungle, which causes

the once lush trees to crumble upon their charred trunks, you’re

a vampire, and bake the cockroach within its stems and rocks

and inner earth’s core, and we will all be dead, and there will

not exist the thought of death, or of dimensions, or of reality, or

of God, and maybe we will immediately reemerge from our

mothers covered in blood and that white stuff called vernix

caseosa, you smell that right, ass, chili, I dried my ass, dry your

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ass, and I will write this out again exactly as it is now, and I

will say hello to my past and future self, Hello, You are doing

fine, I am too, and I will see myself next time after the great

leap has been leapt, and what is all of this contained within, the

infinite, the infinite, the infinite, and everything dies

eventually, and everything is reborn

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