Late Nights

Have you ever had one of those eerie experiences where you feel like someone else knew exactly what you were thinking, but documented it decades earlier in a novel you randomly chose to pick up? Perhaps I read too much, or it's bound to happen, or one of those bullshit sayings where people try to get around saying that fate doesn't exist. But what if I believe in fate?

There are certain things that happen in our lives that we can't, even as rational human beings, explain. So what do we do then? Cut and paste the moments back together to form a single storyline. Something that makes sense has to come out of this whole experience, right? I mean, it can't be coincidence that the story fits... It's definitely a sign, but a sign of what? A sign that someone else knows what I'm going through, that someone else had these thoughts too, that someone else knew this would happen to me? It's like reverse dejavu or something. But, how can you have dejavu for something that happened to someone else? Isn't it supposed to be about your own experiences?

I'm trying to piece this story back together in a way that doesn't make it seem completely creepy that part of the story fits so closely to the inner workings of my mind that I wanted to throw the book across the room and give up. I no longer want to read about my own crazed head, but I read to get lost in the character's minds. When it hits close to home, however, it seems harder and harder to pick up the book and finish. Beautiful writing, though it may be, the book is staring me in the face wanting me to pick it up again and finish. I'm more than half way through...past the point of no return. But, when the story seems to weave into your own life, doesn't it become too damn creepy to continue?

I'm sure I'll continue on with the book...but at least for now, it'll have to sit on the desk staring me in the face, laughing at my fears.