/The Nature of Reality

The Nature of Reality

Have you questioned the nature of your reality lately?

That question was asked of someone/something in a tv show somebody at the house was watching. A combination Wild West virtual reality cyber tripping type show (that’s probably what they said about Quantum Leap when it first aired, or Dr. Who for that matter). Anyhow, the phrase has stuck with me for a whole two days even with all the extinction/eviction/vexation going on in my life. Perhaps it is because of those elements rather than in spite of them that I take a few moments to ponder the “nature of my reality”.

  1. Where do I begin an analysis of the nature of my reality?
  2. What is a things ‘nature’?
  3. What is reality?
  4. Is reality a thing?
  5. How can this reality that may or may not be an actual thing belong to me or be ascribed uniquely to myself?
  6. For that matter, who am I?
  7. Who am I talking to aloud but silently inside my head?

As we can see, this sort of reasoning, or inquiry, just goes round and round like this ad infinitum. It all gets very confusing. Perhaps, instead of going round and round ad infinitum it would be a propos to say ad nauseum.

Ah, people ask me questions
Lost in confusion
Well, I tell them there’s no problem
Only solutions
Well, they shake their heads and they look at me, as if I’ve lost my mind
I tell them there’s no hurry, I’m just sitting here doing time

I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round

-John Lennon

Merry go round

I wonder if any of this is real. For example, what are the possibilities of me running into  not one, but two former landladys in one day? I have no freakin’ idea but it has to be pretty slim! Real or not, this is what I have to do. I just hope somebody let’s me know when it’s time to start praying.

https://iwetka.deviantart.com/art/carousel-346223455

I am still on the merry-go-round and you have to hang on tightly just to keep from getting thrown to the wolves. It has only been two days since I began making serious inquiries into rooms for rent and I feel like I’m in a whirlwind. So many questions, so many emails, texts, phone calls, ipad apps, cell phone apps, websites and friends and acquaintances to consult and confer with. Everywhere people ring hollow with their “I wish I could help, but…”. There’s always a but. I’m being too sensitive and judgmental out of frustration and anxiety (not quite despair – I’ve got an entire seven days to get to that point), so I apologize because I know people really want to help.

Progress Report

  1. Next door app – generated two leads, so far, one of which I screwed up by mentioning the sober house (who wants to rent to someone just evicted from a sober house), but the other one shows promise.
  2. Craigslist – one usable lead so far, but ironically that led me straight to a rooming house I had rented a room from long ago. I felt eerily similar to our boy Alex in Clockwork Orange returning to the scene of the crime.
  3. Running friends – two leads; one too expensive but nice and the other got as far as text then nothing since.
  4. Rooming house list – I haven’t picked it up yet, but I have to get it tomorrow.
  5. Another friend – lives in a sober house in next town, good friend, well connected, I reached out to him

Except for one major misstep which arose from nervousness I have been pretty on top of this thing. In the meantime I have managed to keep my regular life moving along; going to the recovery center, reconnecting with my network of recovery, their successes give me the strength and, most importantly, the hope that this too will work out. Am I ready to get down on my knees and pray. 

“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

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I apologize for the disconnected nature of this post and others, but it takes immense strength to hang on to my mind during this crisis. It is not hyperbole to say that I could very easily just blow away on this gale.