It is the deep stillness of the night. Family asleep, dreaming of pleasantries to which only they are apprised. The night is calm and cool. Cotton ball shaped clouds linger on the edge of the sky, together with the trees framing the vastness of the heavens shining before me.
I listen. Only a light wind blows through the trees.
I smell. A hint of grass and tree pollen is carried by the wind.
I feel. The cool breeze carries an ocean of imperceptible moisture.
I see. The light from the heavens stares back at me.
The dark weighs heavily on me. Only pinholes of light shine through the black curtain. Light is everywhere, but only visible light is observable along its propagation path. Light as energy does not occupy volume like matter. An infinite number of photons could occupy the same volume, but still remain dark to our eyes. It is only the sources of radiation, stars, hot nebulae, viewed head on that reveal the visible, and only if tuned just so.
We must have the right direction; head on.
We must have the right tuning to our eyes; the visible.
We must have the right contrast to discern the source; perspective.
Perspective is that part of the human condition which we all seek to share in some way. It is a shared experience of self, yet it is isolating for no one else has the same perspective of any other one. Even so, the truth of reality is discernible and sharable between individuals. Collective perspective leads to a group think mentality; loss of individuality and criticality. Individual perspective is isolating, damning, and contemptible to the masses; things others cannot understand. This is the broken dichotomy of existence.
No photons that my eyes absorb can be absorbed by another; my perspective. Some parts of perspective still hide away in the dark and appear only for the intended individual. Why? What does the cosmos gain from having millions of different perspectives? Why am I tied to experience just this one?
There are many, many groups and individuals who claim their perspective is the only true perspective to life. Religion is primary among these. But what does it say when all of the collected perspectives of society, past and present, fails to match to the perspective (experience) of an individual? This is part of the existential crisis of self in the multiverse.
Here I sit, listening, feeling, staring. I peer into the night sky at the vastness of the multiverse knowing that my perspective is only for me. This unique and beautiful gift, ruined by the presence of abnormal biochemistry. This perspective is not worth its consequences in this group thinking world. This perspective is a lie to them, something worth chastising, medicating, regardless of one’s intelligence or capabilities. There is one glaring truth to this point of view, that it is a curse of my being, making life a chore and unbearable.
No more can I view the stars as I did as a child. No more can I wonder on the beauty and mystery of the heavens. I know now what they contain, for I have measured them, just as I know now the reality of my disease as I have lived it. Suffering, pain, hate, and rage, like the core of a star at the end of its life. My life does not shine. It is collapsing into a black hole within my chest.
This copy of me stares into the vast emptiness of space-time wondering how many perspectives are shared by the infinite copies of me. Which copies are free from the burden to live in the light of a proper biochemical life? What is ‘proper’? Why does my broken mind taint my perspective so? When the vastness of the dark weighs down on me, where is the that light can pierce through, leading me to the source of radiance, away from my prison? What is that source? How do I, trapped in this void, see, steer my course to the proper heading, motivate myself to move forward, gain the perspective I need to find that radiant truth? Will it make proper sense of my perspective, or will it trap it in a different prison?
I do not know. That mystery of the multiverse hides itself from my prying eyes, my discerning ears. I stare into the night sky, waiting, wondering, searching for guideposts to lead me to a different perspective; one that grants me peace, learning, and a new wonder of unintelligible unknowns I can begin to peel apart and understand. Until then, I am left no choice but to resign myself to this perspective and the dark’s embrace.