From The Desk of Daniel Ross: Sleepless Nights
Yet another fic of Daniel and Thomas
Daniel Ross
Sleepless Nights In psychology, angst is described as "an unmotivated and non-directional fear". It is my firm belief that everyone experiences this feeling of inner turmoil at least a few times in their life. I write this now not because of my own existential fears, but because of that of a friend, which caused memories of an evening from about a year ago to resurface. It was a bit past seven at the time. Work was finished, dinner had been eaten, and it seemed the perfect opportunity to brood on something that'd been troubling me. In the past, I'd adhered to the physicist's philosophy on death: since no energy can be created or destroyed, a being cannot simply "go out" as they might seem in moratorium. However a paper that I'd read recently was causing me to call that belief into question. It had compared the sentient consciousness to something from the Buddhist texts called annatta, or "not self". The description of consciousness as the interaction between the body, acting as the hardware that absorbs and takes in information, and the brain, which acts as the software that reacts based on that information, information from past occurrences, and information pre-programmed into it. If the consciousness cannot exist without the interactions between the body and brain, then it would appear that death as we perceive it is the disconnect between those two components. In my experience, when confronting an emotion such as angst, it is best to hit it head-on. I looked to Thomas (we were in the same room at the time) and told him my concerns. I have said before that I am not a flamboyant gay. Even so, if there were roles assigned to the two of us, then he would be the dominant partner. His reaction only furthered this belief: Thomas simply lifted me from my seat, carried me bridal-style to the bedroom, then laid me down on the bed. "How much of the universe do we know about?" He asked me, his countenance unreadable. I repeated an answer from rote. "Given what we know about what makes it up? Not much." He leaned in over me to give me a smooch on the forehead. "Meaning that the truth about the universe is more beautiful than your wildest dreams. Think of the possibilities!" To a brain predisposed to science, the word "possibilities" is possibly the most relaxing, and at the same time, most exciting word in all of existence. I remember the rest of that night fondly. My angst defeated, I was free to enjoy the unspeakable beauty that permeates this world, and the mad scientist that helps me see it. Until next time!