2013-10-14 - 2:25 p.m.

okay, so i started this fake okcupid profile a while back to basically fuck around and take the tests with, and possibly come up with a bizarre personality to weird people out with. it worked at first, but as i started answering questions i became more and more into the idea of answering them truthfully, just to see what would happen. i eventually answered all the questions truthfully i'd gone through, but still kept the weird profile basically to keep people away. i try to sound like a psychopathic midget.

then i started another one to make a fake personality to troll people with. that one's actually pretty fun. i may tell more about it later.

anyway, i just went through my non-completely-fake profile and started answering questions again for the first time in months. the explanation section is always fun and a good way to flesh out exact answers when the way you feel isn't always represented by some of the cut and dried answers.

then this one question came up. pretty generic, not too deep: if you could read minds, would you tell anyone?

for some reason, though, this caused something to click in my head. i imagined the implications of telling someone and what that would do to the way people look at you. if i'm not able to keep it a secret, then who's to say the person i told would? eventually it snowballed and i began writing a narrative of my life (fictional, of course) if this series of events came true. i feel like it may have actually come out pretty well. here it is.

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maybe at first. it would be difficult to live with being able to peek into anyone's mind and not at least share the experience with someone, much less keep that kind of secret from someone important that would especially be offended/upset by it.

i could see sharing the secret with someone or two. somehow the word would get around and i'd be shunned, spurned by people in social settings who didn't want to have their privacy invaded or even be potentially in that situation. they don't know if i'm not doing it, so how could they trust me? i'd eventually become a pariah and be forced to move away.

the pain of being cast out and the fear of it happening again would keep me from wanting to settle down in any one place at first. i'd wander from cities and towns, catching odd jobs and possibly helping out strangers or people i meet using my telepathic abilities. sometimes interceding would hurt, sometimes it would help, but every time the memories of my home would drive me to leave again. maybe like some incredible hulk shit, but without the fierce action.

eventually i would grow older and the life of a wanderer would get to be to much of a burden. i would settle down as a hermit or bum, only mingling or getting involved with people when it was absolutely necessary for my own survival. with the extra time on my hands i would work to develop my abilities further, hone the powers bestowed upon me into a further extension of my mind that could reach even further into the minds of others across vast distances of time and space. minds everywhere would be within my reach, though i'd never go back to the place that rejected me, chased me away and wished me for dead. never would i try to even touch that place.

old age would catch up, though. the frailty of the human body is nothing to be ignored, and even great powers of the mind would be nothing to death and decay. i'd know that the end would be inevitable, and possibly even have a glimpse of how or when it would happen through the powers afforded to me. my thoughts would turn to making peace with the world and myself. i'd think of the place i called home, imagine going back and seeing the people i missed, but would always shy away before even trying to reach out. exhaustion, both physical and mental, would eventually lead to giving in to curiosity and my desire to see things ended. i'd set my mind home, hoping to find...anything, at this point. the excitement would fade after i realized most everyone i knew was dead or gone. there wasn't even anyone left who cared! oh, how foolish i was. time wasted, love lost, and for my own pride and grief. the melancholy weight of a lifetime without a home would be a heavy one to bear. hope would begin to fade and i'd decide to just give up. but a light would flicker, and i would catch sight of someone i once knew, someone i loved dearly, a person i never wanted to say goodbye to in the first place. my god, they're still alive! i'd strain to keep a grasp, searching their mind to see how they were doing and what they had done. it would feel like i'd never worked my mind this hard in my life, but the elation and anticipation of knowing someone dear again would keep me going. i'd search their mind thoroughly, learning all i could, until i'd suddenly stop. there, it would be. a question they'd asked all along. "where is he?" someone even cared enough to ask. love, guilt, excitement, loneliness, every emotion i'd kept bottled inside for decades would be rushing to the surface. it would be simultaneous heaven and hell of my own mind swirling about in a wicked dance that i no longer had control over. my mind and body would collapse, and i would die entrenched in the bittersweet memories of all the love i had missed.

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maybe i really can get back into writing after all.

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