First, I though it was only me, but she told me she felt it too. Then her friend. I wasn't sure they knew what I was talking about so I started explaining myself.
I thought I was there, that I finally reached stability. I remembered all my transformations and looking back, I thought that whoever I was today was the perfect conclusive result. I was happy and that seemed to make all the difference. This state of bliss and content lasted. It lasted for almost 6 months. Then about 2 weeks ago, everything changed.
I was having a fight with my best friend and he was arguing about me not putting enough effort into our friendship. He said that I cared more about gaining new people's interest and affection, that once I was sure of a person's love towards me, my job was done and I no longer tried to please him.
He wasn't completely at fault so I wasn't really angry. I was calm and responded coldly and that irritated him even more. He wanted to hurt me. "You know what? You think you are happy now but you're not! All you care about is for people to see you in a certain way and you try too hard to force this image of yourself, which isn't even who you are. You are living a lie and one day you will realize how miserable you actually are!" I hung up.
"....which isn't even who you are. You are living a lie..." I hung up because I needed to stop and think right away. Is it true, am I still living an experimental phase? This can't be true. For the past 6 months I have been honest with myself and mainly with others, I always said what I had in mind and never kept anything hidden. I have been honest and honesty means truth...
I calmed my thoughts and decided he was wrong, and that I shouldn't think about it. I went to bed.
The next day, I woke up and started getting ready for work. It didn't take me long to realize that I felt different. How? I didn't understand it at first so I ignored the feeling. I left the house, walked to the car where my driver was waiting for me. We drove off and he started updating me on the latest political developments. He said something and I wanted to respond. I started talking and I felt it again. I kept on going until I understood what was actually going on.
I wasn't talking. I was watching myself talk.
I wasn't in the car. I was somewhere, where I could see the car, myself and the driver. I was watching the scene and it didn't feel like I was living it. I was hearing myself talk and my words sounded familiar, too familiar, as though I have said them before... My words were selected and planned beforehand and my mouth was only reciting them.
I wasn't talking. I was watching myself talk.
My friend was right. My current phase was nothing but another act, an act which I have designed so well this time, an act which I liked so much that I convinced myself of its sincerity....
I was troubled. I was mad, mad at myself and at the truth. I like this version of myself so much, too much, because it made me such a happy person. I don't want it to be an act, I want it to be me.
I saw my friend's smile and it was clear she knew exactly what I was talking about, I was comforted knowing that I wasn't alone, that what I felt was normal. Well, it isn't actually normal, is it?
I wasn't talking. I was watching myself talk and that can't be normal.
Honesty
Honesty.
Honesty was a big part of what I have become. It developed as a result of my self-satisfaction: Because I was so happy with myself, I no longer envied. I was happy and I wanted others to be happy too. I lost the natural human urge to do or say things to make myself feel superior. I was complete and I didn’t need any kind of artificial boost.
This honesty convinced me of my sincerely and made me admire the person I have become. It felt as though I have encoded the mystery of happiness and rather than keeping it to myself, I had a strong urge to share it with others.
For the most part of my life, I have been egotistical and that affected my relationships with everyone around me. I would always make sure I wasn’t the one putting most of the effort into a relationship. I refused to be a pleaser because for some reason, I related it to weakness. If a person didn’t try to be in my life, automatically they would be out.
With the new me, things were different, completely different. What I once saw as weakness became strength: I started seeing people as friends, partners and supporters in life. I had no problem starting a conversation with a complete stranger and just saying what I had in mind. Some found it weird, some didn’t, but they all admired it. I made anyone feel so comfortable, too comfortable that they would automatically find themselves talking to me openly, without any barriers.
It worked because I deserved it: because I was honest, I never tried to seem to be something I wasn’t: I was as nice as I portrayed myself to be.
Now, what if this new me was just another act? Impossible. My character is based on honesty, so how can it also be a lie?
The Act of Honesty… The contrast is too strong and I just can’t think of what this could even mean.
Craziness
Recognizing that my cheerfulness was artificial, fake and enforced, got me in a state of desolation. I felt lost and although I knew something had to be done, I didn't have the energy to even begin to think: I needed to start, again, my search for Happiness.
I decided to wait. I already had no time for myself and I couldn't step on my other commitments to spare myself some thinking time. Thinking came at random times and places: while smoking my morning cigarette in the balcony, sitting on the Nile boat on my way to work, running on the treadmill… The thoughts were unorganized and inconsistent, sometimes leading to positive results and sometimes dragging me deeper in my despair.
This was what was going on the inside, but on the outside, I had to remain the same. I still made jokes with my driver every morning, with the Nile boat staff, with my colleagues at work, I still was loud and entertaining when I sat with my friends, I still smiled…
The contrast between the core and the coat was far from being unbearable: It was quiet amusing actually. I was astounded by my acting abilities and my talent to disguise my worries. I felt in control. In control of myself, and of how I wanted people to see me. In this sense, I was also in control of the people around me.
As soon as I was back in my room, I was back to reality. The reality where only I existed. I developed a hobby, one which I already had –to a small extent- but which I developed further: I sat in front of the mirror almost every day, talking to my reflection. No, I wasn't just saying a few sentences out loud, I was leading a two way conversation, between myself and my other self. The discussions were so interesting and the arguments were sometimes intense. The more I enjoyed it, the more I did it:
I would make sure my parents were occupied, that no one would interrupt, and I would stay in my room for an hour or two, talking…The moment I would hear someone approach my room, I would jump off the couch and go grab my phone so that when whoever was coming, came, it would seem like I wasn't…. Crazy?
Could I be crazy?
It suddenly started making sense. I was living a life where the world I saw was different than the one I pretended to see, where nothing was what it seemed, where I was hiding behind a mask, a line, a thin line separating my own reality from the reality people lived in…
"LSD"
A few days later, I was sitting in the garden, watching the dogs run and jump around the empty muddy field. This was my escape, my time out from work, family, people... I sat there for a while, an hour, two hours... 30 mins maybe. I'm not really sure as it is hard to keep track of time when you disconnect from everything. I was thinking about what I had discovered about myself, about how I could be crazy.
I wasn't trying to find an answer, rather, I was dwelling on the idea of craziness, of what it actually means. I remembered the beggars I used to see in the underground, in London. They used to scare me. I once saw a man, dressed in a bizarre outfit, shouting for no apparent reason, shouting at... Well, nothing. Most of them had that in common, talking to or pointing at no one, nothing.
Were they actually seeing someone or something which we couldn't see? Probably. But doesn't that give them an excuse for acting this way? I mean if -from their point of view- they were talking to an actual person, standing before them, then -from their point of view- they aren't crazy at all. They probably think others are crazy for completely ignoring their -well, invisible- friend.
I started realizing my misconception: Insanity is not a fact, it is only a subjective opinion.
'Hey! I didn't know you were coming'
I looked back and I saw my friend. He grabbed a chair and came to sit next to me. I really liked him so I didn't mind the company, especially that my thoughts were taking me far, too far, and I was tired of following.
I don't remember how the subject came up, but at one point, he started talking about drugs, LSD in specific. He started explaining its effects.
'It doesn't do anything, which is what you will keep saying the whole time you're on it. You won't feel any change, and it won't hit you like any other drug. You will probably forget you even took it', he started laughing, probably recalling his last LSD 'trip' then he continued:
'It's a beautiful drug. It makes you see everything in perfect harmony. Last time I was on it, I was walking on the beach with two of my other friends. We were all on it. My friend had a small portable speaker he held in his hand and he was playing some music. In reality, with the wind and the sound of the waves, the music would have been barely noticeable, but to us... The music was everywhere, everything around us was dancing, coordinating with unbelievable precision with the tune, the beat... I couldn't believe it. It wasn't just what I saw, it was also what I felt. The sensation I got, every time my foot touched the sand, and sank beneath, made me not want this walk to ever end. I could feel each grain of sand, massaging the soil of my feet. I could actually feel each grain, I am not being hypothetical. This is what it does, it makes you see reality from a magical point of view, it turns what is already there to as far as your imagination could take you. It has no limit. You're imagination is your limit and when your on it, this limit is much further than what anyone can grasp...'
It sounds like a dream, like anyone's dream come true. Why isn't everyone doing it then? Does it have any side effects? Not really. It is non-addictive, is not known to cause any brain damage, and has extremely low toxicity relative to dose. 'Why isn't everyone doing it then?' I asked.
'The bad 'trips'. If you get into one, you will stay in it for as long as the effect lasts, theoretically between 6 to 8 hours, but practically... well it could feel like forever. It could last so long, too long that you could actually never get our of it, and I do mean never.'
That scared me a lot. What does he mean by"never"? Won't a person just sober up after and realize it was just the drug's effect? So I asked : 'You mean it could have a permanent effect on someone?'
'It can?' he laughed 'It does. This is what it is. It changes you. Whether you get in a good or a bad trip, whatever you see then stays with you for good. What it does is it gives sense to everything. It connects all the dots and makes you conceive of the Big picture. The mood of the trip is what affects how this picture is drawn, whether it is a beautiful dream, or a terrifying nightmare.' he saw I was confused.
'Have you ever seen a movie, read a book, an article, or even seen something, anything, that suddenly gave sense to a lot of things that you once thought were unconnected? Once you see this connection, you keep seeing it, you retain this perspective till a more convincing one replaces it. Well it's the same with LSD. You see the Big Picture of the World; If this picture portrays it as a beautiful, peaceful, loving place, then you wake up and this image becomes the base of how you see the world everyday. Now if you see it as a threatening, scary place, where everything is evil, you will wake up seeing the world and everyone around you as your enemy. So you see, it all depends on the trip, which in its turn could depend on so many other things like the place, the people you are with, the state you were at when you took it... '
Surprisingly, it all made sense. I started understanding how it works and why it could change someone's life. Was I tempted to try? For a moment, I started wondering which mood I am more likely to get sucked into. The good one, I think... I tried to recapitulate my friend's words: 'You see the Big Picture of the World'
What does it mean to see the Big Picture? At first, it seemed as though the term referred to some kind of epiphany, an insight to the world as a whole, to reality. This interpretation was reassuring and that made the drug seem tempting.
Then, I recalled what he had said about his experience with the music, 'in reality [...] the music would have been barely noticeable, but to us... The music was everywhere'.
So in reality, what him and his friends saw was an exaggeration of the truth. I thought about this idea for a while and realized it wasn't entirely correct. I am pretty sure the waves' movements had nothing to do with the beat of the music...
So in reality, what him and his friends saw was far from the truth, was only an illusion...
The Big Picture he was talking about, is nothing but an illusion.
He left and I was left again, alone with my thoughts...
My Aura
The next day, I was sitting at work and it was only 2:30, 2 and half more hours to go... My mind was blank. I was looking at the pile of documents on my desk, on the Excel spreadsheet on my computer screen, and I just saw nothing, nothing I could read, nothing I could do...
'What would you say if I said I will go home now, and send you the rest of the work by tonight?' I asked my boss.
'OK, sure' he replied, without even looking at me.
OK? Really? I can leave now... OK. I packed my stuff, slowly, giving my boss some time to realize I was actually going to leave. He didn't say a word.
I left the office not knowing where to go. I didn't want to go home. I started walking by the Nile, then up a bridge, which was taking me to the other river side. I got to Zamalek and without giving it much thought, I started walking towards Gezira club.
I grabbed a chair and sat in the garden, where I always do. I was sitting sideways, with my back resting on the right side's chair's arm rest, and both my legs on top of the left one. I put my earphones and played my favorite playlist: "Relax" and indeed I did. I was ready to sleep...
'Excuse me?' I asked the guy who was now standing in front of me, and who -I assumed- had said something.
'I was just saying that you're Aura is yellow. Did you know that?'
I sat straight, took the earphones off and said 'No, I didn't. But yellow...'
'... is your favorite color. Right?' he interrupted.
'Yes. Yes, it is' I replied. I didn't know what to say next, or if I was meant to say anything at all, but that wasn't a problem, because he just kept going:
'I saw you sitting and you looked stressed, Are you stressed?'
Stressed? I am napping in a beautiful garden. Is that what a stressed person looks like to him?
'Not at all. I'm just relaxing and will probably watch the sunset and leave' I replied.
'Well, that's beautiful. I am happy to know that some people still do that. As I said, your aura is yellow. You are an optimist, which explains why you would appreciate this view, when others won't even look at it twice.'
'What do you mean my aura is yellow? Can you actually see it?' I asked
'Of course! I trained to do that. It is not hard actually. It requires some training with black and white photography. I am a photographer, you see, so I got to train a lot to be able to see people'a auras' he paused and gave me the friendliest smile 'I want to try something on you. It will only take a few minutes. Would you mind?' he asked
I decided I didn't have to be polite anymore. I have already let him drag me into this useless conversation. I don't have to be nice anymore so I replied 'No thank you. I'd rather just sleep now.'
'OK then. I will give you the website and you try it on your own when you feel like it' he said calmly, with the nicest smile. I felt bad.
'What is it you want me to try?' I asked.
'Well... Do you know anything about frequencies, auras or brain waves?'
At that point, he got my full attention. 'I know what frequencies and waves are...' I said hesitantly.
He turned around and took a step back and grabbed a chair, 'Do you mind if I sit for just a minute. I'll explain it to you.'
'Not at all. Please do' I smiled.
He sat.
He explained that our brains produce different types of brain waves, each type produces a different effect on us, depending on its frequency. I had to Google them again later, as I couldn't recall all the details. This is basically what he explained:
Beta: The result of heightened mental activity. Maximum mind power. All five external senses, logical mind, memory from the five senses & logical thinking
Alpha: State of relaxed alertness, good for inspiration and learning facts fast. A meditative mind. Internal feeling & sensations.
Theta This is associated with life-like imagination. A magical mind. Internal pictures / visualisation. Intuition, inner guidance. Access to unconscious material. Dreaming.
Delta Deep relaxation. State of oneness, whole body feeling. Pure being & will.
That all sounded quiet... scientific, until he started explaining how we can control the waves produced, simply by imputing the wanted frequency, through an audio track.
I didn't understand so I asked him to explain.
'How about you just try?' he asked.
I nodded, so he got his phone out of his pocket, plugged my earphones in it and asked me to close my eyes and relax. I did. He played something. A noise. I kept still, listening to that weird noise that somehow became the only thing I was aware of. It was relaxing... too relaxing, almost anesthetic, then fully anesthetic...
'Wake up!' he said laughing.
I opened my eyes and I started regaining my senses. I was smiling. I only realized that when i tried to talk. I barley could. I felt paralyzed. I felt happy.
What the hell was that?
'You see? I played an anti-stress frequency, then one for endorphin release. Do you feel it?' he asked.
'I don't know...' I replied calmly, still keeping the same silly smile. I felt high.
'Do you feel high?' he asked.
'I do.'
'Well, here is the website' he gave me a piece of paper 'you will find lots of different audio files. Try them all if you want. There is something for almost everything. Not only mental states! There are some audio tracks for bone pains, muscles, lungs, heart... There are some for studying, learning new things, concentration.... My email is on the website, so you can contact me anytime if you have any questions.'
He stood up. We shook hands and he turned away.
'Oh! One last thing' he said with his head turned at me 'Please give them for the people in need. Not everyone can afford medication, which is the main reason I worked on these audios in the first place.' He left.
I stayed immobile for a while, not only because I had no energy to move, but because I was still in a blissful state. I liked it. This feeling of happiness was too intense and I didn't want it to go away. Can i actually make myself feel that way? Can I play with my mood, my mind and my body so easily, simply by listening to... noise?
Maybe humans are nothing but bio-robots after all...
The Line
A person who observes his life as an outsider...
A person who converses with his own reflection ...
A person who talks and yells at imaginary people ...
A person who thinks the waves are dancing to his music...
A person who believes he can heal cancer with audio tracks ...
Oscar Levant once said, "There is a fine line between genius and insanity," but he didn't say where this line lies.
What all these people -stated above- have in common is their abnormality, their inconsistence with the common. However, not all would be described by others as insane.
I listened to the man talking about his healing audio frequencies in fascination and all I could think of is how great his work is. However, when I narrated the story to others, their common response was to call him crazy.
If they had met this man on a different occasion and talked about other things -other than his healing audios- they would have judged him as perfectly sane, wouldn't they?
What about the crazy guy in the tube, talking to himself? I am pretty sure he is far from being sane. Now what if I had seen him sitting down quietly. I would have probably never doubted his sanity.
That made me evaluate my own situation. What would happen if I start talking to my reflection in public, in front of people, like I do at home? Wouldn't I be -like the tube guy- also considered crazy?
Levant's thin line is thin indeed, to the point that it is almost impossible to see... Could it be that it is non-existent? What if there was no line at all, what if genius is insanity and insanity, genius? After all, “no great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness.” ― Aristotle
My thoughts have led me to believe that the line described by Levant is a metaphor which doesn't actually describe a barrier between two mental states (genius and insanity) as this barrier doesn't necessarily exist, rather it represents a new mental state of its own. The presence or absence of this mental state is what decides under which title a person would be categorised. This mental state is an act.
The state of Acting.
In A Beautiful Mind, when John Nash realised he couldn't convince others of what he saw, he decided to act, lie and pretend these things didn't exist, when -to him- they did. John Nash was indeed a genius.
The fine line is nothing but an act.
Indeed, if a person of great mind is willing to talk his mind openly, he is prone to insanity, and only when he decides to lie, pretend and fake, will he be called genius...