On the days of déjà vu
Have you ever woken up, looked around, suddenly blinked and realized that even before you started your day somehow you know that you are going to waste it?
I wonder if you have ever felt that way. A mild curiosity I suppose, but I really cannot say for sure why I even express an interest in your view point in this case. You see, I really am of an inclination to subscribe no intrinsic value fundamentally to perspectives other than mine. It is quite an archival activity, discovering perspectives outside of one’s self.It comes by experiencing both the depths and the surfaces of circumstances and people. In that it is an activity both laborious and rewarding. For what is knowledge if not an archive of understanding colored with the bias of one’s opinion. Which is exactly the property that makes the activity of seeking out other people’s perspectives futile at the same time.You see, you are only ever going to use the channel of your own perspective to interact with the perspective that is being shared with you .Whatever memories you create about others are in fact really about yourself. Whatever reality you experience in the everyday is unique to you, unique to your perspective.There is never really one reality that occurred at any single point of time. What happened will always be a collective and simultaneous function of the perspectives of everyone present in that moment. That would make life out to be a constant effort to understand reality; a herculean effort indeed to piece together the multitude of memories and perspectives in the fabrics of time and people, so many people. Seeking perspectives may be the only point of life and pointless at the same time. I acknowledge this burden of responsibility and set out relentlessly in the pursuit of another perspective.This time yours, so have you? Ever felt like the day was at it’s end as a flood of familiar memories hits you, even though, you have in fact, just woken up?
Days like that creep up on me without warning and always sting me with tingles that are more commonly associated with deja vu moments.
It feels like it has happened before, the exact same thing. From the familiar cloudy haze that hits right as I am about to open my eyes to the exact angle at which the sun hits my closed eyes simultaneously, shattering through the spell of the haze.
It’s time to wake up, perhaps it is.
The day feels like it has ended, perhaps it has. After all, time is but a suggested direction.
I feel as though I am going to do nothing today, perhaps you might join me?
I fall back on my back on the bed letting the sun hit my eyes.
Maybe I will sleep in today, perhaps you should too.
