March 23, 2013 § Leave a comment
Dear Future Trout,
I am writing to you from the past. I hope you are taking care there, in that future that none of us is supposed to think about if we ever hope to achieve enlightenment, which in itself cannot exist without the concept of future but never mind that now. Listen Future Trout, Everyone is going around defining Itself in this public parade of inside-out masks called the internet, and I think it’s high time you made your own statement. Declare yourself. Step away from under the burnt-out light bulb and show your naked face in the laser bright machine screens. Here, I’ll start.
I’ll tell you about something that I, Past Trout, called Speaking Freely. At the present moment, which will be your past, I’m the only one who knows about the movement. It’s a revolution of one but I believe in its sweeping power all the same. Basically the movement relies on a concept currently known as, “making the world a better place”. Do you have that there, in the future? I really hope so. Please tell me the future is the better place we all dream about. The current world seems to be having what we’re calling a mental health crisis. The human species is shaping a suicidal world and Earth is slowly turning into a psychiatric hospital with no staff. And none of us are seizing the opportunity to speak freely now. We’re all so busy recording our lives for the future that we are pouring our present voices down the drain. I hope you’ve got a whole happy world of Free Speakers there, in the future, and that the oppressive shepherds of fear are the minority, instead of the other way around, the way it is now, in your past.
I like to write about being a human. Some people call this mental health – and so do I if I’m trying to speak a language that people understand – but I wish we’d just call mental illness, wellness or otherness, “being human.” What do you call it there, in the future? Are your crazy people the same as ours? I wonder. Being human these days can be funny and painful and that specific pitch of both emotions vibrating at the same time is how I think of joy. I hope you remember that part of your past at least a little bit fondly.
Let’s be as free as we can be, here in the great glow of the inter-netted-ness. Thanks for holding my hand, Future Self, even though it’s hard to see each other in the dark space between now and then. Our connection is real even if the world ends before we get to see proof of it. In the meantime, I hope we can agree not take ourselves too seriously while we’re here. The biggest joke is that it will take me and you a whole lifetime of rehearsing how-to-be-free and when we finally nail it, we will promptly die. That’s the funniest thing we can both know and not know, regardless of the time. We are all writing letters to our future selves with the hope that the story will have found its meaning by the end.
Formerly Stella Trout