The Diary of Clare Green by Clare Green

The Diary of Clare Green by Clare Green

Author:Clare Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2020-08-17T00:00:00+00:00


Life means all that it ever meant.

It’s the same as it ever was.

What is death but a negligible accident.

Why should I be out of your mind because I am out of your sight.

All is well, nothing is lost.

One brief moment and all will be as it was before.

I tell Mum and Dad how I’m keeping an open mind about reincarnation. I don’t fully believe it but I’m keeping an open mind. I do have an idea that when we die we return to a greater consciousness, that there could be some type of consciousness underpinning the universe. I’m much taken by what I read in The Quantum and the Lotus; that the universe seems to have evolved in such a way as to allow a conscious observer. Could this have happened if the universe wasn’t conscious to begin with? If we’re not all separate, if we are all interconnected, then how does this interconnectedness work? The Buddhists believe all beings are our mother; could there be something to this, that we’re all parts of the whole? The cells of humankind, the myriad points of consciousness that make up the planet, that perhaps make up the universe.

Are we a ‘Goldilocks universe’? Not too hot, not too cold, not too dense, not too full of anti-matter to prevent life from developing, to prevent a consciousness from evolving? What is this consciousness we call our own? Where does it come from? How does it appear? What happens to it after we die? Why are humans conscious? Why are humans being? I’m interested in all of this. I wonder what people have to say about it. What do scientists have to say about it? Does anyone have anything of any importance to say about it? Why are we living after all? What keeps us here? What is this thing that causes us to think, that causes us to be aware? What is our mind? What is this consciousness?

Maybe I’ve stayed alive so I can keep writing. Keep living to keep writing. What is it that I write? This may all be nonsense from a meaningless life. What is it that gives my life any meaning? I have OCD, it’s not my fault. I was born with it, it’s not my fault. What about psychopaths and serial killers; they’re born with it, how can you say it’s their fault? Is there really any such thing as evil? Is it all pre-destiny? A psychopath didn’t choose to be born a psychopath, that’s just what happened.

Perhaps I should read up on psychopathy – I think that’s what I’ll do. I’ll read up on psychopathy. How it starts. Whether there’s anything that could have prevented it. Whether there’s some kind of turning point in a psychopath’s life where a child becomes a monster.

I believe these things just are. The ‘isness’ of things. A shark’s a shark, you can’t wish it to become a lamb. Aborigines practice infanticide – they have to keep living within the limits of their resources.



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