Being Jon Robaina

so maybe should've rent the movie Being John Malkovich before even making the slightest reference, but i think i have a general idea of the movie.... i hope.

so what is it that makes a person the way they are? not in terms of past experiences, but within their minds. what makes a person tick? what is it that gives us our moods, our feeling? what causes sensations? i ask these not as a quest for the meaning of life, but just for the pure sake of asking. for me lately i have been able to see clearly different parts in my life that are huge. each of these parts been split into a character. the character is caught in a situation that, in my mind at least, is in a dark world of devastation. is this sounding at all like Being John Malkovich? like i said, should've watched the movie before hand.

"falling with style"
as of right now, i have three distinct images and characters. the one that i actually enjoy the most, but have no idea what it means is this image or sensation of free falling. there is the moment of standing on the edge of an unknown cliff. wind blowing, the clouds in motion below me. then the one step that begins it all. the rush of wind blowing past my ears, through my hair as i descend past clouds into a vastness of sky. no sight of ground below nor the plateau whence i came. just open sky.

i welcome this feeling or sensation, whatever you want to call it, but i do so reluctantly. i have no clue as to why i have this feeling. i'm sure there is something that can be destructive of an image of free falling, but it feels so freeing. of the three images i see this one seems hopeful, but there is a tinge of uncertainty. freely falling into the great unknown. a voyager aboard the vessel of the dirt ship. is that not what a journey is? embarking into uncharted territories of life and living, learning and seeing something more than yourself?

"this chain mail isn't for your shining knight"
the second image i see is the darker scenario that my character is caught in. everywhere is unpleasantly hot, much like a mid-august day in southern california. sky is shown in orange tint, as if the sun was setting behind the smoke of a raging brush fire. weight has been loaded in forms of chains wrapped around my body, but they do not constrict, just hang as dead weight. the simple act of walking is a trying task only to be worsened by a leash to an unrelenting wagon. constantly pulling, never ceasing. powered by two oversized black oxen constantly being lashed and prodded. trailing onward to nowhere dragging along my hopeless weight suppressed character on and on without no rest. no hope.

situations in life are much like this. stuck in routines, moments in the past, hatred, old loves or sin. so it's obvious why i would be feeling this image. my life reflects a lot of this. the feeling of being pulled along to nowhere immediately resounds in my life. feeling entrapped by a job that takes over a good portion of your life and leads in a direction that goes nowhere for you is one of the most trying and heavy feelings for the soul. the position i am currently in is a hard one. as much as i would to walk away from it all, it is the only thing i have going for me that is bringing income. and at the same time its hard to plan on breaking away when you can't figure out the alternative. they say pursue your passions, but i ask what is my passion? i have to find one, but here i am, tired, run down and being dragged across a dirt road courtesy of my giant ox wagon. and i haven't even touched on issue of sin on this either. that persistent nagging creature that can be so easy to get rid of, but for some reason i let it get close to me only for it to attack me and making this matter worse.

"stranger in a strange land"
third image is by far the darkest of the three. my character wanders though a land. devastation is the evidence of the state of this land. torn down building from destructive power. i look around, i see the pain and destruction everywhere. lives of men, women and children destroyed. men dying on the streets of this war torn realm. children wandering the streets having lost their family. men scrounge for scraps as they have lost everything along with their mind. aimless i wander. seeing all this one should have a reaction of sorts right? but as a drone i walk through. not once stopping. not once truly caring. just continuing on through as though i never saw it.

in my daily travels of commuting to work i see a lot of things. i see people who look as if they just lost it all. i see groups of young people living on the street gathering outside McDonalds waiting for people to give them money for either weed or a cheese burger. i see men who are no longer in right state of mind, the cause being something unknown to me, wander the streets as if they were in a different world on a different street, going to a place none of know about. i see the hopeless try to make a living off of a nostalgia, or more so an idea that has been dead for over fifty years. these are the results from explosive wars. wars that i haven't seen. but i see the result, yet i keep on walking. this uncaring wanderer is one that makes me sick, but it is merely me. have i not met love to show such love? to do something rather than just watching it all. it's no different than a man dying from a wound and a doctor watching it thinking, "someone should really help that guy." i make me sick.

three characters. three scenes. each one different, but each one directly connected to me. the whole me that you see and talk to on the outside. these three worlds. these three characters. they are the composition of how i feel, what i dream and what i see. so again i ask, what is it that makes a person a person?