For the Bastards who want eternal life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A man is aware of his reincarnation

 

I have been rich, and I have been poor.  I’ve been black and white, tall and small.  I’ve died many times; from poison and violence, age and disease.  I’ve been born into families of all varieties; so many that I have forgotten most.  I cannot recall my first mother’s name, or even what she looked like.  I don’t know what is wrong with me, or how many more out there are like me, but in all my lives I have only ever met two.

I guess I should explain my condition a bit more… or at least what I understand it as.  Have you ever heard of reincarnation?  Not the Hindu kind where you come back as a worm or a tiger depending on the actions of your past life, but more like souls being reused.  When someone dies someone else is born with that soul.  The consciousness of that soul is usually wiped clean, all memories of a past life erased for a new experience to be created.  For me, for whatever reason, the erasing process stopped.  Every new life I am reborn with all my previous memories… at least all the memories that I haven’t forgotten.  After a while everything fades away and is forgotten.

I can’t remember in any kind of detail what my first life was like.  I don’t remember family or friends, faces or places.  I do remember being reborn for the first time with all my knowledge and memories from the last life, and I thought it was a blessing.  I was going to be a genius who shot through his schooling and understood the world at a young age.  I was excited like this for the first several lifetimes.  I was going to explore all that this world had to offer.  I did too.  Playing instruments, exploring wilderness, you name it and I’ve done it.  I’ve done everything as a man and a woman.  I used talents to rise to fame for entire lifetimes.  Eventually though, eternal life caught up with me and it all got boring.

When world events and conversations started repeating across lifetimes, the boredom got to me.  I panicked and went on a suicide spree.  I was hoping that I had a finite number of lives, which I could blow through them and be done with it all.  I don’t know how many suicides there were before I gave up, but I became very good at dying before I could walk, despite any baby proofing efforts.  When I realized that my existence was eternal, you can say I fell into a depression.

I didn’t want to exist, but death wouldn’t help me.  I began sedating myself, hard drugs became my blessing.  Occasionally I would overdo it and overdose.  New bodies meant I had to wait a while to get more drugs, but they also came without any tolerances.  It was at a drug den that I met the first of the two people who suffer from the same fate I do.  We were both trying for a way to drift through existence as unconsciously as possible.  You might imagine we became friends, sharing a common curse and all, but after the amount of time we both existed you don’t make friends anymore.  What we did do was realize a better solution than drugs was a lobotomy.  I spent the rest of that life brain dead, and when I was reborn eventually I realized I’d probably never find whoever that was again. 

I would be born, build up my strength, and eventually sharpen a stick and jam it into my nose then swirl it around until everything went away.  I would wake up in a newly born body, and do it all over again.  I really thought I had a good system going here, but then the law of averages caught up with me.  I was born to the second person I ever met who had this fate.  In actuality it could have been that first person over again and I wouldn’t have known.  I would describe his mind as snapped, but this is coming from someone who lobotomizes themselves.  When I was a child and unable yet to speak, he would describe his infinite existence to me.  He thought it was religious.  A god was blessing him with eternal time to spread his religion as a prophet.  His followers followed his lead in a mass suicide as some sort of way to awaken them.  For their sake I hope it didn’t work, but I can’t honestly say I care.  All I know is that he left that life without ever knowing I was like him.  Sometimes I wonder if his religious zeal was because he had lived fewer lives than I and hadn’t completely given up yet.I wonder if I ever led a religious cult back when I was actually living these lives.  If I had it didn’t work and I had forgotten.  What he did make me realize however, was that I was lobotomizing myself hoping to fast forward through the rest of time.  There was no guarantee that time would ever stop, eventually I would have to return to existing again consciously.

The thought would have been unbearable if I had the choice.  I needed to work to end this somehow, and eventually a possible solution came to me.  I had only ever been reborn as a human, as I stated earlier.  If the entire species was wiped out, then hopefully so would my existence.  I governed territories and led wars.  I committed genocides and have been described as the most evil person who ever lived several times over.  Despite my best efforts, the human population keeps on growing, but I at least have a goal and something to live for now, even if I’m existing only so one day I can exist no more. 


Submitted: December 12, 2012

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