Subconscious Wormhole

December 3rd, 2020

May 1st, 1985. I’m born. I am my parents’ first child, as far as I know.

September 16th, 2020. I get a phone call from my sister. My mom is in the hospital due to extreme stomach pain. Within a few days, we learn she has cancer. We are optimistic and ready to fight.

October 16th, 2020. My mom passes away.

January 14th, 1995. My third and youngest sister is born. She is my parents’ last child, of that I am certain. I cut her umbilical cord and am sick for the rest of the day.

October 31st, 1991. My mom has spent a lot of time making me a Halloween costume, and Mother Nature cares not one bit. Being six, I don’t have a clear memory of this snowstorm, but I do know I wore a winter coat over my homemade fiction suit.

November 30th, 2019. I have Thanksgiving at home. This will be the last time I have a Thanksgiving meal that my mom makes and the second-to-last time I beat her in the dime game.

July 13th, 2003. I have my high school graduation party. I play a concert on my porch. My mom is rightfully proud of me for completing school, and is proud that I have learned to create music, which is easier for her because she is deaf.

February 29th, 2020. I do my first convention of the year. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this one. I do not know it will be the last, both of 2020 and that my mom will ever attend.

January 25th, 2007. Jack is born. He is my first child, as far as I know.

December 25th, 1995. It’s Christmas and we get a Sega Genesis with the Toy Story game. I remember the graphics blowing my mind. I don’t remember what we ate that year.

Fall 1990. My mom and I get in an argument. I threaten her by saying I’m going to tell everybody she’s mean. She tells me that they’ll take me away and I’ll get a new mom and asks if I would like that. It takes me one time of feeling this fear to know that I will never want to lose my mom.

Today. I think about time travel, as I do. I realize that the closest I can currently get is displaying words on a flat surface, turning linear experience into simultaneous. All at the same time, I can sing and eat a Thanksgiving dinner and be at a convention and see my sister’s birth. I am born and my mom dies and then she sews me a Halloween costume that I will have to hide under a jacket.

I am having difficulties in believing in anything other than this, the idea that my subconscious is a source of eternity where everything and everyone lives forever as long it exists. This belief started on May 1st, 1985, which is also the beginning of time.

Published by dennisvogen

I'm me, of course. Or am I?

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