What do people without blogs do when they can't sleep?
Warm milk?
Diphenhydramine?
Hot Showers?
Valium?
Re-runs of "My Three Sons"?
Rank amateurs...
Insomnia is caused by so many things, but with me its my brain going a million miles a second about everything and nothing. Sometimes the only thing for it is to drip the toxic brain poop onto the keyboard and then paddle off to dreamland.
I remembered tonight that feeling I so rarely feel, but am amazed when I feel it. It is that feeling when you realize how utterly small and alone the universe can feel. When you think of all the people that exist and all the worlds around us, its not to hard to feel small.
Even when I think about time, how eternity exists forever in both directions, and my cellular animation is a pathetic fart, not even a juicy, sonorous one, in the chemical composition of worlds that include such complex things as the smell of lavender and the taste of mangoes.
I am reminded of what C.S. Lewis said about these sorts of moments,
"Now that I am a Christian I do not have moods in which the whole thing looks very improbable: but when I was an atheist I had moods in which Christianity looked terribly probable."But several days ago, I sat in the pew at church, feeling utterly at ease, aware of God's presence, knowing of his great love for a schmuck like me.
One of the greatest lessons I ever learned in this world is that emotions are not reliable guides. Just like the magnetic field has changed through the years based on the magnetic orientation of lava on the earth, emotions change every day of our lives. If we only listen to our emotions, North becomes East, and South becomes West. Without looking to the stars, without looking at the map of those that have gone before you, we cannot find our way by just basing our decisions on experience and feeling. Its useless. Like using a GPS with no batteries, you will not know where you are.
The existence of God and the reality of truth are not what keep me up at night. What keeps me up is actually wondering who I am. Today I found myself wanting to sign my email to an important client with the initials "AC". It happened more than once. Anonymity is nice in that it lets you explore that part of you that most of polite society never sees, but sometimes it feel like a Jekyl-Hyde relationship. I don't know when he is going to try to appear. But even the anonymous AC is not truly real. He is still unable to exist in the light of day, only in the darkness of a black Courier font on an unforgiving white page.
Thanks for reading,
AC
: 9:08 AM
I could see you on the street and never know who you were but somewhere in this identity you have become a comfortable friend, whoever you are. I think many of us out here are using the keyboard to try and define ourselves and feeling lost in the process.
But, I ramble. Something I often do in the darkness. I hope you are off snug in your bed with Mrs.AC.
Sweet Dreams.
I consider you a good friend too. The beauty of our anonymous world is that for once people are friends based on what's inside and not just appearance.
AC
