Probability.

“Probability.”

They say in quantum mechanics that a particle can be in two places at once. That it’s position and state exists only as a probability until you look at it. And until you see it for yourself, it can be anywhere, exist in any state, and potentially occupy all possible outcomes at once. I find this reality oddly comforting. To know that there is a some sort truth behind my feelings. It makes me feel like maybe I really am a part of it all. Quantum in my own way perhaps.

Some times as I lay in bed, safe from prying eyes and the deafening hum of the city, my mind sets foot to wander and I find easy path through my thoughts. I try my best to make sense of them, but sometimes even I can’t find the reason within. It’s then that I begin to question, if I too, exist only as a probability. A probability of success. A probability of failure. A probability of apathy. Take your pick. Because here in my room, unobserved and undetected, it feels truly left to chance what form I will take when next the world sees me.

I feel so far from where I started. As if the distance from my past were so great that it wills the curvature of the earth and bends my reflection beyond the horizon. My former self all but obscured from view with the naked eye. Gone, but not forgotten. For at times, I still feel like I’m there. Shell shocked. Swimming upstream against the unforgiving hands of time. Held on high ransom for my unwillingness to accept the things I can not change.

It is my understanding that space and time are the same thing and should therefore suffer no disparity between them. So what is it then? That mocks relativity and causes me to feel both so far away in distance and yet so close in time? Perhaps it is the speed of my thoughts that reconciles these differences or maybe I’m just missing a piece of the puzzle.

There is a phenomenon that occurs, at the subatomic level, in which groups of particles interact in such a way that their quantum state can no longer be described independently. Where the state of the system in it’s entirety, must be described as a whole. Where each particle must be viewed as one in the same because they precisely mirror each other, regardless of distance, time, speed, space, or matter.

It is in this way that I feel entangled with my former self. As if somehow, the man I am and the man I was, share more than just a name and a story. And instead,  are living in parallel, as a combined existence, neither one more or less real than the other. Neither one more or less important. Could it be possible that, on some level, the human mind has grown powerful enough to transcend physical form and bridge the gap between these realities? Here in my room anything is possible, and it couldn’t hurt to keep an open mind.

My mind is a satellite. At night, it it orbits the earth in retrograde, scanning through the endless signals of the universe and listening in for something. Something worth listening to. Anything but static. Soon I find myself captured by some unknown frequency. Some innate stream of consciousness. A strangely familiar, unsteady signal, broadcasting not from outer space but somewhere deep within my mind. I recognize these thoughts. They were mine once but now only exist as an echo. Old protocol, software out of date.

Eavesdropping on my former self, I am consumed by an uneasy interest. Letting his thoughts play out in my head, for perhaps a moment too long. I peer over the edge of madness and lay witness to sowing seeds and the dismantling of a man. A finger. A trigger. I pull back hard with the hope that this sudden inertia will break the trance and I will once again find myself back at home. Back in the relative safety of reality. I feel the bond break like a bone and I fall to pieces on the floor. The weight of this tethered existence having all but consumed the last of my energy . I feel exposed. I feel cheap. My salivating and racing heart calling out to the darkness for mercy. Begging for it to comfort me like it never did. Maybe it would answer if I gave it time but I’m smarter than that now.

There is a mind behind the madness and I find it strangely amusing, if nothing else. I’ve learned to weather the passing storm, no matter how hard the rain falls or how loud the thunder cracks. Stand your ground. It is important to feel these things. Fear. Doubt. Sadness. Anger. Anxiety. All of them. Because trying to suppress them is to try to suppress being human, and you will lose in the end. These thoughts aren’t real but the feelings are, and sometimes they leave a sting that can last for days. As if I were still there, so sore, making those choices that carried me ever further down the length of the blade.

Maybe I am just a probability. My fate divided into percentages by the path I chose in earlier life. But the thing about probabilities is, they can change. They only describe what might happen, not what will happen. With knowledge, patience, and understanding of yourself and the world around you, you have the ability to affect your chances. Even if it doesn’t seem that way. I guess it all comes down to what kind of affect you want to have because after all, it isn’t chance that shapes our definition, it’s our choices.

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