October 25, 2021
I died 5 times. I'm sure of it. I mean, come on, deja vu is legit, and I have experienced it, but man, it's been on serious repeat. I'm sitting in my car, reliving this very moment once again. I'm sure of that. It's an out-of-body experience, and I have counted 5 times that I have looked upon myself in a horrific, deadly state.
The first time I died, I was sitting here in my car. Same spot. Same place. Same faces. Same sounds. My head was down, buried in my phone, reading some articles. The music plays, and I pause and listen to familiar lyrics that cause me to reminisce about a time and place. Then I go back to my phone and fiddle around. In and out of apps. On and off websites. Cruising the same sites as if it were in a familiar bar. A human figure stands to the side of my driver's window. From where I stand, I can't tell who this person is, and I try to walk in front of him or her to see their face, but I can't seem to walk around this figure.
"Get out of my way!" I shout. "Hey, hey," I wave my arms. Nothing. No reaction. I decide to get my own attention. "Hey!" I yell as loud as I can. "Look up! Get off your phone.
Look to your left, dummy. Look! Look!"
But I don't.
I sit there, lost in the content of my phone. If I would just look up! Just see what I see! Look! Look! The shadowy figure raises his hand and points a gun toward me. Oh no, I won't look up. Why won't I look up?! The firearm is focused directly on me. I see the shadowy figure squeeze the trigger. There's a flash! It's so bright. The gun muzzle shines orange like the sun. And then there's blackness. I rise and see myself dead. Silence. And then I'm here again. Same place. Same car. Same time.
The second time I saw myself die, I was at the same place, at the same time, in the same car. However, this time, I was standing outside my car. Which is weird because it's too damn hot to be outside. I was leaning my torso across the hood of my car. On the other side was a friend of mine. The football game was over, and we discussed the game's events. The shadow figure appears from behind me. Walking fast. His hands were in his pockets. His pace increases. My friend doesn't see him. At least, I don't think he does. But he's looking in that direction. Why isn't he alerting me? I decided that I would intervene. I can't witness myself being killed again.
"Stop!" I shout. I run toward this shadowy figure. I have to help myself if no one else can. My friend. He isn't doing shit. He's talking sports to me. Shut up! Warn me! I bolt towards the figure. But I can't move. What the hell is going on with me? My feet won't budge. I grab my left knee and lift. But it's as if I'm in hardened cement.
"Turn around, dummy! Turn!" What's on his hands. The figure has a knife! The street glistens with steel. He raises it over his head, like a pitcher in a windup who is prepared to plunge into me. And I can't stop it! Hover, witness my death, darkness.
On to death number 3. Two times of death, and it was hard to witness. I'm prepared to stop the third one this time. There I am. Same place. Same car. Same music. Same crap. This time, while sitting in my car, there's a laptop open on a computer stand. It's turned on, and I'm scrolling through the pages on the browser while life passes me by. What do I care? My life is going on here on these internet pages. I'm consumed with the information even though it is overwhelming my conscience to the point I am blocking out what's around me. Death is back again. I decide to do nothing to help myself. I mean, am I this dumb? What's the point of supporting myself if I haven't learned? Let it come. Go get me. "Get him," I shout to the shadowy figure. I don't move. The figure doesn't acknowledge me. He or she walks right on past. The computer is casting such a bright light inside the car. The light's glare is washing everything out around me. This time I see a flamethrower. A flamethrower? What the hell is wrong with this dude? And how don't I notice a flamethrower being directed right towards me? I think to myself, "You deserve this, dumbass."
This has to be torture. I'm at death number 4. Who cares at this point? I mean, do I have immortality. I must because I can't explain what's happening to me. I'm pissed because I'm allowing this to happen to myself. And I have a front-row seat to my own destruction. Like clockwork, here comes the shadowy figure. It doesn't even lurk in the blackness. It comes out like thin air and charges right towards my car. I can't explain it. Maybe it hates the music I'm listening to? Or the technology I'm consumed with? Could it be sports that it hates? Who knows other than death is coming again. And yet again, I don't do a thing. Let it come. Let me go. Let it rear its ugly head again.
Boring. I died again. Number 5. It's the same story. You read about it 4 other times. Probably 4 times too many. Almost like deja vu. Isn't it? Time to break the cycle. Move on. Get going. You have a chance to live again. So, live it. Life is going on around you. I've died 5 times. Instead of watching myself die, I walked away from my old self and learned to live on my own. I discovered there may be new things out there besides seeing the same old thing.
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