Random Musings of Medicated Girl.

(Notice: This post is one of my occasional "thought train" entries. Occasionally I write an entry that is nothing more than the train of thoughts running through my head at the given time. My thought trains can occasionally be radical and strange. Thought trains occur when I induce a waking trance and let the intellectual spirit of my body play as the dominant force. As such, thought trains almost never have my "voice." Feel free to ignore this entry, unless you want a glimpse into my intellectual spirit. Feel free to comment about any of my strange musings. Without further ado, a thought train...)

Time is a weird concept to me. We spend our lives worshipping the clock, which is nothing more than a mere circular device with numbers and "hands." Nine out of ten people you see on the streets are often wearing watches on their wrists, constantly looking at them, almost as if forgetting to look would cause instantaneous death. Even I'm guilty of it when I'm out and about on campus.

We divide infinity into seconds, and when enough have been collected, they become minutes. Minutes become hours; hours become days; days become weeks; weeks become months; months become years. But why must we overcomplicate things? If clocks were to vanish, and calendars to be erased, would the world suddenly end? The sun will still rise and set, as will the moon -- they don't need a clock or calendar to tell them that.

Then why do we? If the world can go about without a "sophisticated" system of digits, why can't humans?

Humans are such counter-productive creatures. In all our efforts to advance ourselves, we have only taken steps backwards. We preach "equality for all," yet racism runs rampant. Take the past election, for instance. You could ask any black person you saw, "Who are you voting for this November?" and the answer was the same: Obama. Why? Color. They didn't care what the issues were -- did anybody? A lot of whites were guilty of the same concept with McCain. This election past was not an election for repairing the country... this election was an election for color. In all the editorials you saw throughout the campaign period, anybody who was seen flaming Obama was responded to with "You're a racist!" and "How can you be so closed-minded?" This is equality?

Justice is also a lie. So prisons exist -- they house convicted criminals at the expense of the innocent. So court systems claim to "stand up for the middle class" -- Yet decisions are made by who can write the biggest, fattest check. The killer of my great-aunt has been housed in a prison cell for going on five years. Will he ever be convicted? Probably not. They have infringed on his right to a speedy trial, and will have to release him. And he will walk out into the world a free man, while my family never receives its closure for the loss of a beloved family member. Murder for $34 -- $34 that was never taken. And he walks away. That's justice.

Money is a curse. Money talks, not people. Money is the puppeteer, and humans its stringed, dancing figurines. The more money a person has, the more wonderful they are. And that money turns to power.

And power is a curse as well. The more power given to any one individual, the more corrupt they will become. A pure mind can turn rotten if handed a lofty position. With power comes money, which can be used to buy a person's way out of anything... why be honest? With that money, a person could hire all the assistants in the world to do his or her bidding... his or her thinking... why bother being educated? If you're powerful, you don't have to be intelligent... you can get away with anything. Powerful people don't realize that their power slowly kills them, until they are nothing more than overly popular, upright, walking, talking, living vegetables. Sure, they're alive -- but they don't do their own thinking. They don't have to. A snap of the fingers and -- boom! -- their request is fulfilled.

The night brings forth the deepest of thoughts. They say that people should be weary and sleep when the world outside is dark... but then there is me, the soul whose mind springs to life after dusk. I sit awake for hours at a time, staring into the dark oblivion of my room, pondering. A thousand topics can pass my mind in a single span of thinking, a long train of thoughts that eventually can circle back around from the caboose to the lead car again.

My dreams are not dreams, but rather, visions. Every dream I have involves something I have thought about in the stages right before unconsciousness. Indeed, the dreams can be remarkable adventures, but there is symbolism in the adventures. When I wake from a dream, I will lay in my bed and pick it apart, piece by piece, until the message becomes clear. Dreams are psychic messages sent to inform, not to entertain. But perhaps, me being a "semi-psychic" makes me believe that dreams are more than imaginary fiction.

Dreams are remarkable things. In essence, sleep is much like death -- the heartrate lowers drastically, the breathing slows tremendously, and you don't hear or see anything again until you awake. Unless you fall into stages of "half sleeps..." Where the body picks up sensations around it and the brain responds by building a pseudo world around you.

It's almost as if there's no real "reality" at all.

Sometimes I wonder if anything is real. Maybe we're all just dreams being had by an unseen being...