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Monday, December 20, 2004

I nearly logged in on Sunday morning to write a long essay on how pointless my existence is. Yep, I was in a really good mood. Instead I went to bed earlier than usual to try and shake the feeling.

It didn't work. I'm still feeling fairly pointless.

What do you do when it finally dawns on you that the dreams you've been clinging to for your entire life are slipping away? What do you do when you realise that perhaps, this is as good as it gets?

I don't have an answer. Even drugs, which are almost always the answer, don't quite solve this one.

I'm thinking too much about my life as an adult and how little I've actually accomplished. As I approach the tender age of 42, it's becoming increasingly clear that I'll probably never attain any of the things I wished to do with my life.

That's doesn't mean I've given up, I still hope to one day write a book or two, screenplays and even get a tv show on air. I'm just being more realistic about my chances.

I'm facing facts, which is something I always aspire to do. The fact is, if I haven't done any of these things by now, chances are I never will. Sad I know, but honest, brutally honest. In my favour is my deep desire to still do these things.

My mother used to say, "wish in one hand, shit in the other and see which one fills up first". My mom is smart.

Most people, grow up and give up on their dreams. That's why the world is full of so many accountants and lawyers and the like. We can't all be cowboys, or astronauts or novelists and film-makers, can we?

Maybe I haven't grown up. No maybe about it, I still believe in the infinite possibilities that every day brings. Does that make me immature?

Just because the odds of me doing anything significant with my life drops with each passing day, doesn't mean it will never happen. It just becomes increasingly unlikely.

I've never been one to worry about odds. The longer the long shot, the more I think it might happen. I'm ass-backwards though, what do I know?

I've said it before, I lack discipline. Working on this blog for around 9 months has shown me that I can be disciplined. I can actually work on something consistently and that is encouraging. Maybe all is not lost.

This year has been for the most part, quite shitty for me. I'm talking about all the horrible family stuff I've been through. My father's illness and death, my younger brother's illness and estrangement, and my mother's horrible existence have all had a profound effect on me this year.

Everyone goes through rough patches, no one's life is perfect. And if you think your life is perfect, please keep it to yourself!

I think the holidays are bringing a lot of this out in me. The last xmas I spent with my parents was around 13 years ago. I can wish that I visited more, xmas and otherwise, but I didn't.

I'm sorry I wasn't able to see my Dad before he died, but I couldn't have faced it. Even now, with the benefit of hindsight, I can see that not going was my only course of action. I'm a shitful son.

And just in case I haven't confirmed my status as a "shit son", I'll have the chance to disappoint my mother by not visiting her either.

Ya see, that's the problem, life is not really a Hallmark Greeting Card. Life is a series of painful moments of self-discovery and disappointment and no one makes a greeting card for those occasions.

On the plus side, I probably don't even really exist. None of us do.

I watched a documentary earlier this evening on Channel Four, about physics and cosmology. Honestly, it was more interesting than it sounds. They floated a theory which I've encountered before and I will try to explain to you now, in very simple, hippy terms that will hopefully be easy to follow.

There's a theory regarding existence known as the multiverse which postulates that our universe is not the only one and there are actually an infinite number of universes in existence, all with different rules governing them. Some of these universes would have life as complex and intelligent as humans, some even more so.

Suppose in one of these universes they constructed a computer that was so sophisticated that it could run a simulation large enough to contain a universe as big and complex as our own. The "lifeforms" generated by this simulation would not be aware they were constructed and their surroundings would be as "real" as our own.

In other words, we have no real way of knowing whether or not we are really "real". We might be generated beings living in someone else's constructed reality and not even know it.

I hope this makes sense. I realise I'm distilling someone else's PhD thesis into 3 trite little paragraphs in my blog.

I draw a sort of twisted relief from this hypothesis, since if I don't really exist beyond a simulation in someone else's computer program, perhaps I'm not such a failure after all. It's all in the programming and someone coded me badly.

And on that note, I'll leave you to ponder the meaning of the universe and your own existence. I hope your experience is just as rewarding as mine.
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