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Auschwitz? Really? before/after Here's one for you. Make you shrink away from me faster than an Amish woman at a biker rally. Normally I have nightmares. Usually pretty bad. Last night I had a full-fledged horror movie, no violence. Pretty much just like a psychological existential horror movie, replete with main characters, supporting characters, and plot twists that are slowly fading from my mind. You see, in the nightmare, they turned Auschwitz into tourist attraction. NOT like it is today. You could actually pay money to spend the night there. Spend the night in the fucking gas chambers. wtf. wtf is up with me. Anyway, I had read awhile ago that the gas chambers were reconstructions, as the old ones had been torn down. I have not been able to cross reference that. Still, sleeping on the spot where about a million people were executed. WTF. I did not spend the full night there. I was horrified that I was there in that capacity, and I was even more horrified that I might find a part of me, or that I knew there was a part of me, that *could* sleep there. And not in a racist sense or anything like that. Maybe a selfish part, or a part that is nihilist. If you believe in nothing and are selfish, you should be able to do whatever it is you wish without regret. Given a lot of the shit I've been through in my life, I think there is a part of me that developed, an ability, some people call it 'compartmentalization', wherein you go through really awful things and just keep functioning. Essentially you just deal with the moment as it arises and sort it out later. Maybe this is what I was mulling over. But maybe it was the existence of a part of me that just absolutely does not give a fuck and refuses to believe in anything? That part of me is always in conflict with the other that sees the wonder in it all, and believes in things unseen, but felt, intuited. The positive take-away, in such an awful situation, is that I still felt that capacity for horror and outrage...disgust. But that my sub-conscious churned that up for me to mull over disturbs me. Over the years, I've grown accustomed to my nightmares. This was a new level.
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