Something is missing, I told myself. Something is missing, I thought again.
Insane how much we repeat a single
thought
until its
noise
becomes drowned. Then no longer can the thought be heard. Instead it has become
belief
. One that we no longer can question for we no longer are aware of it. In my life, how many thoughts had I uttered on repeat until it faded into the backgrounded like so?
Was anything I believed or thought even real? Yes they were certainly real. I was sure of that as I walked through the wet, cold mist. Two minutes away from the town square. That was not a thought I had to dwell on long. Of course my thoughts and feelings were real. They were all that I had. The real question was were those thoughts and feelings my own?
They flowed through me. But did that make it mine? Was the damp air that I breathed in air that I owned? The molecules of oxygen and water were certainly flowing through me. Replenishing my brain and my muscles through my blood. But was any of it mine in the way that I had come to believe? I owned a phone that I kept in my pocket almost constantly. I had worked to earn money and then used that to pay for it. It was mine. But were my thoughts and beliefs really mine when I couldn't point to how they came to be? And if the more and more I got to know people I learned that they had the same thoughts and feelings?
I thought maybe the phone wasn't mine. That this hometown wasn't mine. None of it belonged to me. Nothing in my life, not even my life was mine. There was no reality of ownership. Ownership was of a temporary concern. A temporary imagination. My face smirked as I thought this on repeat for the remaining 100 seconds of a walk towards the town square.
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