I watched the movie K-PAX a couple of weeks ago. It was very good, touching and all I can really say is that I recognise myself in it so much. I'm also from another world, just visiting this one. He's from another planet, I'm from another realm. He lived and grew up in his home world, I left mine through reincarnation. But what really messes with my heart about this movie is that it isn't science fiction, he's not actually an alien. As the story unfolds, I can't help but questioning my own beliefs. Not all who believe to have been reincarnated are deluted, but how sane is it to believe one has been reincarnated from another plane of existense as a demon?
It's true, I feel it in my heart, I feel it in my soul; like an aching, bleeding, tearing and pulsating wound inside me. It's beyond true, it's the only truth that really matters, my real origin, who I really am deep inside. Beyond physics and the laws of any nature, undescribeable, highly intense and overwhelmingly true. I'm not the only one with the exact type of beliefs. I'm not the only demonkin, not the only otherkin. I don't question my brethren otherkin, I'm only questioning myself.
I've been mentally unstable for a long time, and with all the other stuff that can, and probably should, be discarded as delusions or hallucinations, I think I have a legit reason for my doubts. But I'm also doubting my doubts. If I'm right and I really am schizophrenic, it's possible that this is a delusion. But in my world I can't allow it to be that way, it would literally shatter my world. I've known that I'm not human for my whole life, even since I was a small child. My memories of Dala are as real to me as my memories from my childhood. My phantom wings, horns, claws and tail are as real to me as ever and all the reasons that makes me think I'm a demon are as real to me as my hearing impairement. It's all about perception, and some things just can't be proven.
I need Dala to stay alive. I made a bargain, that as long as I know that some day I'll be able to return to my long lost home, I don't have anything to lose by being here in the meantime. The uncertainty of never being able to return still haunts me, which also keeps me alive. But if it's all a lie and never real, my life here is meaningless. All of this would be meaningless. I wouldn't just lose my identity or my purpose, I would lose the only place I've ever been able to call home. It's one thing living an entire life feeling that your life is meaningless, it's a whole other thing believing your life has a specific purpose and then lose it all. No, not lose it: it was never there to begin with.
I'm stumbling in the darkness of my mind for things burried deep within, hidden, lost or unfortunately misplaced. I know I have all the answers within myself, it's just that I can't reach them. These questions no one else can answer but myself, and I really really hate walking around with unanswered questions! But feeding an obsession is like counting stars in the night sky: it will never be finished.
Ugh, I don't want to think about this anymore. Why do I have to break everything down to bleeding pieces all the fucking time? Is it really unnecessary? Why can't I just leave it alone!? Cause once I've finally found THE answer, something inside me whispers that there's gotta be a catch.
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