The Existential Crisis

Have you ever thought about your existence. Like, truly thought about your existence. Out of thousands of sperm, you came to be because you were the strongest and got to the egg first. What if one had edged you out by just a little bit. You wouldn’t be here now. You wouldn’t exist in the same way. Or what if one of your parents was late to the date, or got caught in traffic on the way back from work and the plans for the evening were stopped? What if your father had not decided to go the college in state and never met your mother? What if your mother had decided to not go on that second date? So many tiny things revolve around your very existence in this very moment. Really think about it. When I think about it, my head starts to spin in all the wrong ways. 

It starts with me looking at my hands. Moving them, considering how I know how to move them. How to make a fist or flick something off or even just making the tips twitch individually. Then I will pace a little bit to think really about how my legs are actually moving in such a way. the bend of the knee. I slow that part down . Literally, just going back and forth, thinking too much about the joint. Then it gets dangerous because this is about the point where I start to go into my own head. My eyes are the beginning. The fact that I can see what’s going on all around me. The fact that I can take it all in even is just incredible really. The dangerous part is when I go even further into my identity. My name is the first think the comes to me. I obviously know my name, no question about it. But who am I really? Am I my name, or is my name me? Does that even make sense or is that pure nonsense? Or is it both. What if my name was different, would I see differently through these eyeballs? Would they even be considered the same eyeballs? 

This is the point where I end up closing my eyes for a little bit and my thought take over like when you pour just a little too much soy sauce in a bowl of rice. It spreads just a little too quickly and changes the contents and their purpose. Not necessarily in a bad way but it hit every crack and crevasse on the way down and soaks through each pieces thoroughly. That’s how these existential crisis thoughts take over my head. My once white rice head is browning, becoming salty and pouring as liquid in the bottom. I question everything about my life. And I mean everything. If I had said “But…” instead of “Well…”, could that have made an alteration in the conversation that completely changed an important aspect of my life? Did the red socks I wore today instead of the blue put me in the exact place I am right now?  Those sorts of question. If I had said one word differently in a conversation that took place a year ago, would I be somewhere else completely? I know that this is walking along the edge of that “butterfly effect” theory but think about it. Actually don’t think about it. Then maybe you can save yourself an afternoon of staring blankly, questioning everything thing that has ever happened to you. It’s not quite as fun as it might sound.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,