How the Hell did I end up Here?By: Ryan Beodeker
What an interesting night; an un-normal time, a spot on the clean jacket, a stand out part in the life we live. Not just any moment in the streaming of conscious thought through the never ending feed that is vision, that is sight, that is perception. This is a particularly important moment. This moment has been given import, is to be respected and revered. Yet here am I wondering whether or not I am where my mind and memory tell me I stand. I ponder the possibility that I am elsewhere, that I am on repeat, that my VCR rewound when it was suppose to play forward. Maybe the magic remote control to life is broken; that when entropy hit play on my life's VHS that part of the movie was duplicated. How the hell did I end up here?
Jest. I will jest. The turn of events all too well remembered in the suppose-to-be dead short term memory cells of my unhindered being. Old happenstances given new names, gifted with new faces, hiding in plain site and simply waiting for me. Seeing how you can never truly know if you're not the only conscious thing and that everything else the delusion of your mind, understand that you will always and can never be truly not alone, know that the voice in the back of our heads is the only thing that let's us know we are alive, give credence to the line that history does and will repeat itself. How the hell did I end up here again?
Another year older and not one inkling more the wiser. Perhaps more knowledge, indeed more skills, and yet I still revel in the unfinished dealings of the past years. The truck is stuck in the tar-pit like mud that covers the road to the future. Our wheels do nothing but spin and spin, sinking us deeper and deeper, forcing us to repeat and repeat the same unending maze of u-turns and past due sentiments. Lending itself and the whole thing entirely to the short succinct thought: How the hell did I end up here?
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