AnacHronism a·nach·ro·nism (ə-năkrə-nĭz′əm) n. 2. One that is out of its proper or chronological order, especially a person or practice that belongs to an earlier time: "A new age had plainly dawned, an age that made the institution of a segregated picnic seem an anachronism" (Henry Louis Gates, Jr.) When something is out of joint, out of time, it means it is anachronism. Now let's pretend that somebody is chronically anachric. No matter where he goes, no matter what he does; where he lives, or who he's with--he feels out of time.
How does he know this? It is apparent in his skull. How does he know what is in his gut/intuition and in his mind is correct? It is undeniably, undesirably, confirmed by the natural world--identifiable by perception. He knows he is not deceived. And yet, to become an anachric, one has to be greatly deceived. Deceived beyond measurable measures. They themselves become the only way that such deception is measurable, perceptible. It is a sadness. Sometimes it feels like a great weight. To walk around as an anachric is to see falsities as falsities, truths as truths, and to witness the greatest of miracles. What it means for the anachric his self is sometimes unclear. But usually, given that the universe did not put him first anyways (for he was chosen as an anachric), he does not place too much concern on his own personal state. For, as the universe has desired and confirmed, he is actually very accepted among his peers of humans, and for this, his way is made easier for some. All the more easy for him to be an anachric. What might be the cycle of the anachric, you ask? Why, to get himself out of being an anachric, of course! Nobody wants to be an anachric. A lot of people don't know that they are an anachric, or slightly anachric. But of course, for a lot of people, it is not a chronic problem. Not as whole-encompassing. Perhaps they are only slightly anachric. Wouldn't that be nice? Actually, no. That would be almost worst, because that might mean that they were never wholly-un-anachric, too. And that would be a life way more confusing than his as the chronically anachric deceived. It didn't just happen overnight; no, of course not. Nor over the course of some weeks or even some months. But it did happen over time. He supposes he was himself growing into the slightly anachric state that he has just mentioned, where some people are only partly anachric. He was becoming partly anachric, But there was always a holy ring of fire above his head. Now, anyways, he one day was cursed so hard that all the structure of the before-life fell down (crumbled), and he became somebody else entirely. But of course, he did not become somebody else entirely. For how is that possible when other people still exist as they are, and there is no possible way to erase the person that you once were, especially as imprinted in others' minds and memories. And this anachric happens to have the best of friends, and the most blessed of pasts. Yes, of course, there was hardship in the past; but becasue this anachric was such a nice person (not claiming to be exceptional, just blessed), the person happened to have a very lucky bit of circumstances. For exactly what he needed to get back to himself had been placed in order for himself by himself, so that he had only to trace his own very footsteps. And luckily, this was fun, too. So I guess the anachric didn't have it half bad. Not half bad as most people, anyways. He couldn't believe all the hardship that existed in the world. He just couldn't believe it. Every day it was a shattering realization. But he knew what he had to do. Perhaps he had a little of the inkinling of knowing what he'd have to do at the very onset, the very beginning. But it became more and more clear as the threads were unweaving, and he finally gave in to the vortex that was himself. He ended it. He began it. Whatever you want to call it. He moved back home. Back home to where he could pick up the pieces more easily, and leave those untouched that shall not be scattered. He had done enough damage, he felt. But that wasn't even the start of it. Truth was, the most damage was all in his mind, and the world was a beautiful place. If only people could realize that. Perhaps, through him...
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