Thoughts.

A Trip to the Hospital

I'm not sure what I want to write. Perhaps everything. Perhaps nothing. I think maybe that if I start writing, I will never stop. So there is only one natural reaction to that: write. And I'll write about myself directly for the first time.
This text probably won't be for the faint-hearted for you see, I saw organs floating in a plastic container today. It was sort of weird - watching dead organs float around in formaldehyde (which strongly stinks, by the way). I didn't think my first time would exactly be today, mind you. I thought I'd have to get into med school for that, but naturally, these things kind of pop into existence in front of my very eyes, completely unexpected (most things do, and for a planner like myself, that's like a laugh to my face).
I met a proper genius two days ago who volunteers along with me. Very eloquent, outspoken, wants to be a surgeon for oncology (surprise there; that's the only thing he talks about). Said fifteen-year-old genius was so passionate about seeing the lab that it made me feel excitement for seeing how test slides are created (trust me, you do not want to know).
In the end, the most important thing to know is that the hospital is a hectic place and that the doctors who have over 10 years of school due to specialization or surgery are madder and more eccentric than a dog with rabies. There was a doctor working at hematology-pathology - and please if any doctors are reading this, don't take my lack of knowledge with titles personally - sitting in a room with papers just about everywhere and a few thick books laying open around her microscope. An unfinished foreign thesis was sitting on her computer screen, a few pictures were hung unbalanced on the wall and I didn't think I saw a single empty place on her desk as she began rambling about forbidding her daughter from going to med school. Dazed the whole time, my genius partner sat by a microscope and murmured everything he had memorized as she nodded from time to time (I had no freaking idea what they were talking about) and corrected his knowledge of some rare diseases I've never heard of. I stared at them for about twenty minutes before deciding there was nothing I could really do there since genius-head was hogging the second microscope. Nervously, I asked to leave. She gave me a half-answer and I decided five minutes later that she wasn't exactly sane even though she was brilliant at what she did, so I left without a single word. I went to the genetician's office and began talking to her. She is a very kind woman in her early thirties. From her I discovered everything I needed to know about medicine.
Every organism varies.
Everything varies.
There are always exceptions.
Doctors merely suggest.
They're not as nearly as infallible as people claim.
Surgeons practically try to apply what they've learned.
And life goes on.
And we are in control of nothing. Absolutely nothing.
It made me smirk somewhat awkwardly as I walked home today, thinking about this and about if I smelled like the chemicals I had come in contact with in the lab.
I had to consult with my emotions and see how they lived through the day (my emotions always kick in much later then they should) and was surprised to find that they were in order and that what I had come to know didn't bother them for a second.
I walked home thinking. And this is what I've come to know in the process:
I feel as if I am in this warp of time, somewhat trapped by the surroundings and truth, as if I am simply waiting for something. Something big.
You know when they talk about dreams about achievement. Mine aren't of this world. Nothing here pleases me. Nothing makes me content. What is this world but a mere dream itself? When will I wake up at home?
And don't get me wrong, I love planet Earth. I love this temporary abode and its people, animals and life. I love what I can find here. Such gentleness and warmth. Softness and splendor. Youth. But I believe that this world is young and I am too old for it. It will never excite me as it does for others (and does it really excite others or do they simply pretend?). Something that has a soul will tend to excite though (perhaps that is why I take a liking in humans), but the world's beauties...hardly.
It makes me wonder. I'm sorry of the youth of this world who know nothing at all, who base everything on future dreams whose ending is only our friend death. They are thirsty. You are thirsty. Most don't know that there is an unearthly fountain that will make you feel alive more than anything else but for an eternity. Drink, my dear. Like earth thirsty for rain, your soul is thirsty for what it longs for and consequently produces its own hallucinations. For what is all this but a game? Every day has already happened once or twice before.
But yes, we are all unique.
That doesn't mean we are all the same.
We are all unique and all vary.
We're all beautiful, but our vain and arrogance unveils us and we become shameless. Everything evil comes from shamelessness.
That is how the light of our souls begin to dim and how we invite the darkness. All we must really do is simply be honest with ourselves when it comes to vain and desire. We mustn't mask ourselves in front of our own eyes.
Uncover yourself and see who you are. See what you need. See what you're destined to become.
And never stop loving no matter how difficult things get.