It's difficult to figure out where to begin when everything has become a blur. Specific events turn into vague, dreamlike sequences. You remember results but you forget how you got there. And suddenly you start wondering if you made it all up - just to have something to blame for turning you into the dysfunctional creature you've become.
Some days you embrace the dysfunction, because you think it means you're creative and wacky and unlike the clones upon clones that have become the stock characters in your small bubble of existence. Of COURSE you're the different one among the J-Crew -wearing, Jetta-driving population that has framed your "society." But some days, the dysfunction turns on you. Yesterday it may have put you in the spotlight, in front of a crowd of people going through their motions of "social norms," people who are envious of your ability to "break the mold" so to speak. But today it makes you want to hide. Today you're completely obsessed with going back as far as your memory can take you to that ONE event that made you Wrong...
And because of the Blur, you can't find it. It's like one of those goddamned stupid Magic Pictures that were popular a few years ago. To this day I've never been able to focus beyond the psychadelic patterns to see the sailboat or the sunset or the guy whacking off on the train. I tried, but I was told I try too hard. "Just relax your eyes and the picture will come into biew."
Relax my brain and there will be the answer. It's been sitting there the whole time, eating cheetos in the LazyBoy and mindlessly channel-surfing through the top-of-the-line cable package of my brain.
Don't look so hard and you'll see where it started.
Blurs keep blurring. So maybe I need to just make it up as I go along, and somewhere among the pretending something real might pop out. And maybe, hopefully, I'll recognize it.
But what if I don't?
All I DO know, is that if I don't try hard enough, the haze will get thicker and keep creeping up on me like the shuffling zombies in any of the Night of the Living Dead movies. They shuffle. They crawl. They're slow.
But they always get the humans in the end.
So I just gotta keep moving. Stay three steps ahead of the blur. I don't want to end up eating my own brain.
So I guess I'll just start. And whatever comes first, well, that's just going to be the Beginning.