There have been three major turning points in my rather
brief time on this planet. All three
have shaped me as a person and changed how I observe myself and those around
me. The first would be the death of my
father. As his man-made death trap of a
plane scattered in flames across the runway, the glasses of innocence shattered
and I could see the cracks. But I could
also see the clear. I knew the world
then and I knew the world knew me as it always had. That was my first liminal experience.
Several years later, my mother decided she was tired of
living in the echoes of my father so we packed up and moved from California to
Washington. I was not doing so well in
school then. Most of my friends had
abandoned me to my depression as they could not comprehend the sorrow of losing
someone so dear. They were too
young, still wearing those glasses unbroken. I flourished in the new
environment and changed my entire personality to better equip myself to the
stupor of junior high. This was my
second liminal experience.
Then I was struck by the liminoidal. I was introduced to my downfall. A darkness and agonizing obsession of
unprecedented proportions, Doctor Who shattered my imagination for at least a
year. I was astounded by the intricacy
of the show, the unbelievable acting, and the evils of humanity. Honestly, it’s
some scary shit. My view of the world,
the universe, was completely knocked over and replaced by a TV show.
Dear lord.
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