So I was just in the process of finding my CV so I could email it to FatFace – Yay adulting – and I found a word document that I typed out in the middle of exams; probably in the midst of an existential crisis to be honest because, let’s face it, exams do strange things to peoples’ minds…this blog post just proves it. Of course I have revisited this topic quite a few times since I wrote it and it could be relatable to you but I just found it amusing to read back so I’m going to share it with you.
This is exactly the way I found it. This is essentially me rambling to my computer so don’t mind me!
Sometimes life makes me think how I ended up in this body. Ever since I was born as Caitlin Bell I have always thought in English and wondered why I have the life that I do; I could easily have been born in rural Africa or in China somewhere. Then I think what it would be like to have been born somewhere else and think in a different language; Mandarin, Urdu etc. and view England as completely foreign and peculiar…you never know, maybe I did once. That leads me on to the subject of conscience; what makes me who I am. I don’t believe in God but I just don’t understand how there can be nothingness after death. The thought that this is all there is makes me afraid to face life and what comes with it so it has always given me great comfort to believe in or at least consider the possibility of life after death. The way I’d like to see it is that my conscience used to belong to somebody else before I was born but this is the life I remember, perhaps because it’s currently happening. I can’t remember my days as a toddler but I know for sure that I was one. Maybe your conscience just discards any memories of a previous life because you don’t need them anymore; new life, fresh start.
Just wondering and writing this down, I guess to help me compartmentalise the world. Isn’t that why we write anything? Like I said, if we kept everything in our heads all at once it would get awfully crowded and so to write down your thoughts, you can begin to make sense of everything.
I do keep coming back to the thought on language, perhaps because I’m a budding linguist with a curiosity for other lifestyles.
I got distracted by the birds so I’ve lost my train of thought. Maybe I was once a bird. When I did my parachute jump I loved the feeling of floating about in the air, same when I went gliding and more so when I was flying (in a grob tutor). It would be strange to be a dog though…
Yep… Strange way to sign off. But as I said, I got distracted by the birds! Hope you enjoyed reading my random thoughts…you nosey parkers you.
Even though this is my first post of September, I’m going to leave my August favourite untranslatable word until my next post just because this was spur of the moment, unplanned blog post.
I’m currently listening to I Wish It Would Rain Down by Phil Collins.
Until next time,