Searching for Ratha
Ratha David Loun, Ratha David Loun (circa 2016)
I sent a text to Dbaze earlier in the week. He responded by asking where my confidence went. I couldn’t answer then, I couldn’t answer now. I haven’t been feeling like me lately. I don’t have much interpersonal interaction, so I couldn’t tell you where along this timeline I lost hold of myself. What I can tell you, is he’s been missing for some time now. Long enough that I’ve forgotten who he was. When I come across photos of him, I’m left to wonder where he went. Is he gone? Is he coming back? Is he still with me, perhaps somewhere I’m not looking? Or did I leave him along with a life I’m nostalgic for in moments of solitude? Because I’m always alone, I find solace in moments rather than people. It’s become problematic as the moments I find peace in don’t exist in the world I’m confined to.
It’s like everyone’s in a coma around me. I’ve spent so much time dreaming, on occasion, it feels like I’d be better off joining them in their slumber. Life moves in a manner in which holding on is as innate as it is unnatural. I can never get a grip, but when I think I have, life becomes so detached that I fall into an abyss of change surrounded by fear. Life gets so cold at times that warmth brings me a feeling of apprehensiveness rather than a feeling of comfort, which is ironic. Ironies riddle the complexion of this existence we’re all a part of, which leaves me to wonder whether or not I have the ability to confirm both my intuition and my premonition. After some time going around in circles to myself on the subject, all I’m left with is how a pattern of inconsistency is actually consistent or how getting used to not getting used to things is getting used to things. You know, just arbitrary thoughts. There’s humor in irony under the condition of acceptance. Not much has been funny these days, but perhaps it’s because I haven’t been as accepting of the things in my life.
Thinking on life and what it could be, free will crossed my mind. My relationship with free will is complex but can be simplified by an agreement I have between my subconscious mind and my logic. When I think of free will, I don’t have it. When I don’t think of free will, I have it. Fluctuating in and out of that consciousness allows me to get the most of life. It allows me to exist in two separate worlds. One which is calculated, and the other which is filled with impulse. Both are equally as important, but what is most important is the balance between the two. Too much thought can lead to no action. Too much impulsiveness can lead to extreme carelessness. As of recent, I’ve been on the former end.
Our collective experiences may be things we identify with, but those things shouldn’t define us. We should. As a writer, I’ve been struggling because here I am sticking to a script I had no part in authoring. Knowing what I know now, I need to shift my focus and begin thinking of life as a matter of destiny with respect to free will. In an attempt to avoid recklessness, I’ve been spending all my time with my thoughts than with life. I wonder what it feels like to embrace each moment without thought. If I had to guess, probably like it did when I was a teenager spending my nights staying out late in Apex. I went to sleep eager to embrace the potential of the next day. Mix CD midnight drives to Waffle House with the family having conversations that mattered about women who never mattered. They were everything at one point in time though, but points are like moments in this life and life is comprised of many, many moments. I spent countless evenings shooting hoop in the driveway of my childhood home while my parents gardened in the backyard until sunset, unaware how quickly things would change.
Instead of falling into a coma like everyone else, maybe if I stay awake long enough, I can turn life into Apex once more. My world of thought tells me things will never be the same due to the nature of life no matter how much time is spent recreating, but maybe if I spent more time in a world of impulse, life could bring me a warmth I’m not so apprehensive about, a warmth as distant as it is familiar, as unique as it is comforting. Maybe in time, I can feel the innocence of romance again, falling in love with every woman I laugh with. Maybe if I stay awake long enough, I’ll be able to find Ratha again, and I hope when I do find him, he’s not as jaded as I am.
It’s never been me to not be me, and if what I am now is me, then I’d rather not be myself.
How ironic.