The Road And The Detour

What more can be done when you've said what you needed to say? Whether you're heard or not, what else could you do? We can't force anyone to listen. Still, it is important to speak out. After those words have been clearly spoken, we simply must leave it up to the people, the gods, and the fates. It's our responsibility to speak. Being heard, however, is a choice we must leave to others. They will choose to hear or not. They will choose to see or not. Either way, I can always count on my dearest Universe and the good Doctor Blog-ieo. Okay, on to the main topic. Have you ever heard of the Many Worlds Theory? One of my favorite episodes of Star Trek TNG was "Parallels", where Worf kept getting thrown into different parallel universes, starting with minor changes, but with the shifts getting more and more disjointed, and the realities getting increasingly different to the point that Worf absolutely knew something was wrong. That is the Many Worlds Theory, my friends. And it's something I think about quite a bit. The theory was dismissed by many as silly, and the man who wrote it died a miserable man. It has been only decades later that at least some in the scientific community have started to take it seriously, noting that it solved paradoxes they couldn't solve otherwise. Whether or not it's true is still a debate. Though it will probably always be, because how does one test and prove such a theory? It was "Parallels" that introduced me to the idea of alternate universes. Then there was the original's "Mirror Mirror", TNG's "Yesterday's Enterprise", Peter David's book, "Q-Squared" and Diane Duane's "Dark Mirror", that got me to thinking about it even more. I wonder about the decision points of my own life. Now, I'm fairly certain there is no such thing as a universe where I was thrown back in time with the knowledge, wisdom, growth, and maturity I have gained. Because in knowing what I know now, a lot of things would be different. Still, if many worlds theory is true, there has to be somewhere I made a few of those decisions in the opposite manner, or at least where fate pushed me in a different direction. July 1998. The phone rings but I'm not at home. The phone rings, I answer, and I say no way. Or maybe I'm not in the phone book. Maybe I'm on the internet, downloading doom levels, and therefore have the line tied up. Either way it happened (or didn't happen), there are a few universes out there where I did not reconnect with a certain person. Just by that one change, my life would be vastly different. Now, my guess is that such a change would generate quite a few different worlds. In one, I eventually found somebody wonderful, a true soul mate, and we're together to this very day. In another, I eventually found myself in that certain way I did a few years ago, and I am now a totally different person because of it. Then there would also be the one where I just went crazy with loneliness. With "Many Worlds," there is no wondering which fate befell me. They all did in parallel universes. But in this universe, I did answer the phone, and it ended up with me getting involved with someone I should not have, knew better than to, yet did... Even married her. All because I was lonely. Also, it is hard to disregard one's own hormones when an attractive (at least back then) woman practically falls into one's bed (and out of her clothes). A Venus Flytrap, and I was the fly. A really stupid fly at that. Buzz buzz. Caught! And this is the universe I must live in. Still, I'd give my soul to go back and fix everything. I could build a much brighter universe for myself if I could. But, that's not all the implications of the "Many Worlds Theory." One aspect gave me my greatest doubts about it. Well, more than one, really. Does one fallen leaf really make a whole universe? I find it hard to believe. Then there is this whole thing about death. Some say we don't really die but simply jump to a universe where we didn't. Could that be the case? I used to think it's silly. Why? Because I don't see any thousand year-old people walking around, do you? But, after more thought, I realized that they weren't saying we live forever. At some point, all of the many possibilities dwindle down to zero, and then it's over. So, maybe not eternal life, but we all get to be the oldest person on the planet someday. But, then the questions become even more convoluted. I have far fewer questions about the universe branching off each other, but a whole megaton about universes merging and consciousness merging into that version of yourself that lived. Did my baby sister wake up in another universe? Was this so for my mother and my father? Did they wake up the next day not knowing what happened? And could this have happened to me? Is it possible that somewhere in the multiverse, she's writing about me instead? I suppose if this theory were true, we are guaranteed to live until the last version of ourselves is gone. Sadly, that guarantee does not extend to the people we love. Almost as bad, if this turns out to be true, it also means when we actually do die, we are each and all guaranteed a slow, lingering death. Not exactly a prospect I would want. Still, the comforting prospect is that the ones I love would be okay if in another universe. For me, that universe is out of reach, but at least they're still alive somewhere. It just sucks that I can't be with them. So, what happens? Let's say something happens to me: Does the universe branch, or does it merge with another one? Would it be a world with (where I continue) and a world without (where I don't), both existing until the end of time? I mean, as far as anyone who never knew me, it would be the same universe, right? I mean, is this the sort of stuff that makes a universe? If a leaf falls off of a tree in the middle of a forest, and there's nobody there to see (and wouldn't notice if they were), does that mean there's another universe where the leaf didn't fall? Is a difference that makes no difference at all, really a difference? Does it build an entire universe? I find that very hard to believe. Surely, the multiverse would not care for a single leaf. What about a single human being? What does it take to build a universe? In the end, I guess it is a waste of brain power to think of such things. It really doesn't matter if there is one universe or millions or an infinity of them. There is but one universe I must live in, one chain of events I must live with, and I'm afraid this is it. I have no power over what has come before. I can't go back and change anything. The only thing I have any control over is right here and right now. And even this is far from complete control. I've got to make the best of things the way they are, here and now. Still, I think of the others. I think of what, for the flip of a proton, just might be out there. I think of universes where my dear loved ones are alive and well. I think of other realities where I made the wiser choice, where I was the better man. I think a lot about these things that I could never hope to see, could never hope to be, could never hope to change, much less find a gateway to. And even if I did, I know I would be a stranger, an alien, someone from outside of everything. And friends, that just might hurt even worse than being right here where I belong. So maybe the universe, fate, God, or the gods knew what they were doing when they built these barriers of space and time. Lost souls such as my own would be a cloud of ghosts, vagabonds wondering the multiverse, trying to go home to a place that (at least for them) across an infinity of places, just does not exist. And who am I to wish upon my loved ones and my better self, such a plague of ghosts? For better or for worse, we earn the future in front of us. It's not always deliberate. For some implications, we can't see all the way around. Sometimes, it's ignorance that we truly didn't know any better. Sometimes, it's the arrogance of youth, when we damn well should have known better. Few of us are completely guilty. Few of us are completely innocent. Most of us are somewhere in between. All of us have regrets, things we wish we could change. Some are minor things. A few are major things. Then there are the things beyond our control, even back then where the fates had their way, dwarfing what little power we had. But control doesn't matter. Be it deliberate actions or fate beyond choice, we still blame ourselves, don't we? When the judge, jury, prosecution, and the defendant are all the same person, the sentence and the judgment will always be harsh. Nobody damns us more than ourselves. The only ones letting themselves off light are the ones incapable of self-reflection, unable to question their own choices, or even entertain the possibility they just might have been wrong. All I know is that there were several moments in my youth where I'd knock the damn daylights out of my younger self. Of course, there are other moments later in life where I wish I could simply explain the pitfalls of certain ways of thinking. In those moments, I would be much more gentle in my explanations, for a lot of that was innocent ignorance rather than teenage arrogance. There is a difference, you know. Despite every impossibly, I still sometimes wonder if a genie, angel, or demon were to just poof in front of me and offer to send me back, would I accept, and if so, just how far back would I choose to go? Each era of my life would have its pros and cons. The farther back I were to go, the more and the greater changes I could make. But there are some things I would rather not experience again. It's complicated. In some ways, the past is better off gone forever. Maybe it's kind of like the version of Jean-luc Picard that didn't fight those aliens at the bar, and it ruined his life. Maybe I would rather have died as the man I was than to live the life I just saw. We pull that one loose thread, and everything just falls apart. Tapestry indeed. There is no doubt that some of these hard lessons for which I have been kicking my own ass have made me a better person. Take away the lesson, take away the growth. Far be it from me to wish to go back to being stupid. So, it's a sword that cuts both ways. Still, my answer would still be yes. Regardless of all the hazards, I would still have to try. It would be one thing to look back, yet lack the power. It would be far worse to have a second chance, yet refuse to take it. Should I really be grateful that I don't? Maybe I'm thinking a bit too hard. Maybe I'm overloading this poor brain. The past is long gone, and there is nothing to be done. Okay, and here is where I shall Segway into another topic that is sort of related. After all, it was yet another decision point. This, of course, is another attempt of mine to explain the unexplainable. To really understand, you would have had to be there, and you would have had to be me. And there is just no way. To be honest, I would rather not have to explain it at all, yet certain future circumstances may make it necessary. There is a time capsule of sorts that may be opened after I am gone. And no doubt there will be questions. Ah, future moments and discoveries. And what will they find? Let's call it a branching personality of which you will see traces. But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, so let's go back to the beginning. In the more difficult times of my life, I have always been a bit of an escapist. I've had my doorways and gateways, places that lead anywhere but reality. Some escapes were healthier than others. Music was my first gateway. I would close my eyes and picture myself in a utopia where everything was groovy and in time. Imagine Shambala as if it were a real place, just as the song said it was. It's not like I truly believed it was real, but it was so nice to pretend to put down this burden if only for a little while. Afterward, I could face just about anything, but I could be so much stronger after a bit of rest in another world. Later came the video games and visual novels where I could completely immerse myself into the character. Fighting monsters, romancing anime girls, it was the same in the aspect of escaping my life and myself. For many years, such methods were enough. If I could find a moment here and there to escape, I could come back and face the reality of my life, and no one would ever know how much of a struggle it really was. But then came a day when it was no longer enough. Those magical gateways suddenly lost their power, and I was stuck in a life that I hated as someone I did not wish to be. I literally wanted to be someone else and anywhere else. I felt that I had never truly been myself. I felt I had nothing to work towards, nothing to look forward to. I felt my only future was old age and death. It's not a pretty picture. This was not the life I wanted to live. This was not the person I wanted to be. And with no escape, my thoughts were a dark and gathering storm. As I saw it then, my options were no good at all. The only thing holding me back was responsibility, and I even began calculating that sweet day when that responsibility would end, for that would be the day that obligations would no longer chain me to this world or to this flesh. My thoughts were dark. And maybe there was a part of myself that wanted to find another way, something beyond a choice between two grim fates, death or worse than death. And, suddenly, the answer came to me. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. A picture can also be a source of validation and reassurance when you're trying to get it as close to that inner spirit, this soul within, as you possibly can. Wasn't there some people who believed a camera could take their souls? But this was not taking. This was hopefully seeing for the first time. There came a day when I had to make that choice. I can't begin to explain the depth of my despair at the time. All I can say is that many of my thoughts at the time were dark. Every day was a misery. Every morning, waking up was just a return to the nightmare. Many a night, I wished I would never wake up again. There was no joy in life. It seemed everything I tried resulted only in punishment. And I was so tired of taking lumps again and again for having done the right thing. More, some of that punishment didn't come from the world or from the people, but from myself. I didn't like the image in the mirror. I felt more and more that it was just not me. I came to the decision that something had to end. Either it had to be myself, or it had to be that part of myself that I did not like. Does it sound like a mental disorder? Maybe it was, but that's how I managed to survive. There was joy to be gleaned, happiness I found from within, surreal moments that actually made me happy. Suddenly, there was change. Suddenly, there was progress. And suddenly I had a reason to look forward to tomorrow. Call it a disorder, but the alternatives were either the nuthouse or the graveyard. There were no other ways out. So yes, you could say I went totally madder than a hatter for a while. And if there was something one had seen and thought themselves hallucinating, rest assured they were not. For that was my world for a long time. It often still is my world on the inside. What I once kept within, I now keep within again. The dreaded year of 2022 only brought me further beyond, closer to that edge, for I had only thought I knew what true pain was, yet I was shown I did not, that I never knew anything at all. I was on a figurative raft before a figurative waterfall, a point of no return. I had been on that edge for a very long time. One step forward might as well have been a thousand, for there would be no going back. But something suddenly happened that gave me that reason to take one step back, and another, and another. Something made me sit on that figurative riverbank, and think, and think, and think. And that was when the person that I once was began to breathe again, not so dead as I was led to believe. What was it that brought me out? A new aspiration. One that bid me to resurrect my former self. A star and a bit of gravity that forever changed my orbit and brought the Wie of old back from the dead. And so, here I am, but the other's not gone. The most important thing is that I am still alive, and I remained a functional part of society the whole time. I didn't embarrassingly melt down in front of the world. I didn't follow through on my ill-fated plans. I chose another path, and it saved my life. I can't honestly say I regret saving myself in that way. The main change between now and then is that I have now accepted the role that I must play, whereas I couldn't before. I have accepted the reality I must live in when the very thought of it once burned me. But, do you want to know a secret? I have given up on absolutely nothing when it comes to being myself beyond the role. This is me, all of me. And while I finally find myself a far better actor in playing that role, I am far more than any role could ever hold. I am still..... Myself. I have given up nothing within the realm of heart and soul. I am everything I ever was and more. So, if you see traces of someone else I once was (and still am) do not confuse my not wishing to explain with actual regret. While I regret many things in my life, believe me, that's not one of them. (Baby, I absolutely rocked) But the main point is that it is the very reason I am still here. But also in the here and now, such things have long served their purpose (survival), and the time has come for me to move on. That chapter is over, but the book is still going. The world for me has already turned. Maybe in another universe. Now, that is something I would love to see. And that's how I circled back to the main topic, Many Worlds. And as you've seen, some of those worlds would be quite interesting. And as Futurama Nixon once said, "And, now ya know something, haroooo!" Okay, new subject. I haven't checked the moon for air aka 'social media for meaning' very much in these last few days. I count that as progress, and I count myself as feeling better. There is no air on the moon. There is nothing but hot air on social media. Advertising, religion, politics, and about 99 other flavors of bullshit. Social media is indeed the Baskin-Robbins of bullshit. They've got every single flavor. And it was never worth my time in the first place. Certainly not now. It's not a permanent goodbye... Just a whole lot less checking in. Why won't I delete it? Because my parents and baby sister's accounts are still there in my friend list. That's why I won't. Still, they're not there any more than here, so little point in checking in twenty times a day, is there? I think the more I stay away from that vortex, the better off I'm going to be. Social media is like that fake army Eisenhower used to trick the Germans before Normandy. It had fake radio traffic, inflatable tanks, plywood landing craft, and appeared from the sky as the real deal. That's social media. It may look real from 20,000 feet, but it's not. Unlike how they were portrayed on "Hogan's Heros", the Germans were not so easily tricked. Had they not been fooled, D-Day could have been a disaster. So, hooray for Ike and boo for social media. Social media tries to fool all the nations, all the people. Their motive is profit and not your well-being. And that makes them the enemy in my war manual. The best thing we can do for ourselves is to stay away when we can. Take it from someone who knows. You will feel so much better. Now when I say I go checking the moon for air, I can mean a lot of things. It's basically looking for something that you know better than to look for. (at least there) I say moon, but it could be any noun, any person, place, or thing that simply does not have what we're looking for. It's not there. It never was. And when when we look there anyway, we're checking for air on the moon. We all logically know there's no air there. We'd also like to think we are logical beings. Ah, but most of us run on at least some level of emotion. And I could give Mister Spock a migraine. I can't tell you how many times I've found myself looking for air on the moon. Sometimes I have the dignity and presence of mind to stop myself. Other times, not so much. It seems to be part of being human. At least I hope I'm not the only one. Social media and the internet in general is certainly in a downward spiral. There is definitely no air on that particular moon. I spent decades saving and preserving the things that were wonderful about it, but the time is coming soon where my data collection will be all there really is. Then I can save quite a bit of money. One does not need a whole lot of bandwidth just to check email and pay bills. And that will be, as far as I'm concerned, the internet's only use. After all, I don't stream jack shit, and I never will. If I like it, I most likely already have it. If I don't have it, then I most likely don't like it. There used to be so many worlds to conquer. Now it's just a wasteland and a waste of time. The time is coming soon, ladies and gentlemen. I do miss the internet of old. It held wonders most couldn't even imagine these days. It's sad it's gone.