reckless ramblings

Last night, i went through pages and pages of a person i used to be. A person that no longer exist; that will never exist again. I have so much evolved from being that person but, that person still felt so much, had so many opinions, had an entire life that no longer breathes. It's more of an art, living. For the present is the only point in which we exist. The future does not nor does the past. We live on assumptions. On the assumption that tomorrow will bring only one outcome from preset outcomes mentally logged from previous experience. You create actions based on the same set of presets. Experience is only a mental notepad to later reference when you find yourself at a similar crossroad or quandry. Opportunity to belive a different, new, fresh outcome is possible only happens after it's already happened once.
We grow in to our patterns. We create mental patterns and run trails in the grass with them.
And though we change, our patterns alway seem to find proper footing in our new skin. I know, somehow, that when this person no longer exists, that the patterns will.
i am simply a fleshy brain who takes mental pictures and remembers them. Who is aware of their existence. Who can calculate outcomes. Who uses numberless math, the language of the universe but, is asked to deny this and believe in god because HE created it.
I do not create myself? Free will and fate cannot coexist. I am a mess of thoughts with no structure. A circle in my brain does not blance out in likeness of topic, it's more like a spiral. Shaving the tips off of random thoughts and compiling them into gibberish like this.
When i land in their soft bedding, perhaps i'll be warm with reason and sense and come to better conclusions than those blotted in journal after journal of neurotic theory and observation. And maybe then, i'll no longer feel the need to keep them shut away and burried beneath dusty boxes. Because this is my only footprint in this world. My words, my theories and my life. This is the only documentation of my existence other than the marble stone i'll eventually be rewarded with.
Please, think me not morbid for i am not. i am only skating across the preset outcomes of an individuals life.