Nightmare Recursion

Dear Magic: the Gathering (MtG) duelists,

Don't try to deny that you played Magic during middle school! It's okay; we were all a bunch of nerds, dorks, and geeks. Embrace the inner outcast. I had the privilege (or lack of sense) to play MtG for a good 3 years from 7th through 9th grades. Then I moved back to Texas where we played with cowboy boots and guns and capital punishment. Isn't Texas grand? We should definitely secede from the United States!*

Anyway, during my Magic playing days, there was a deck, a collection of cards with a game strategy, called nightmare recursion, which employed the card Recurring Nightmare to reanimate creatures from the graveyard. So creatures which you had seemingly defeated would be resurrected all over again to your dismay. I swear it isn't as silly as Yu-Gi-Oh or Pokemon or any of those other collectible card games. Though better (more expensive) cards meant a better deck, a better strategist would win over a weaker player.

And Magic would have cool names for cards like 'Ill-Gotten Gains', 'Wheel of Fortune', 'Cursed Scroll', 'Force of Will', 'Morphling', and 'Fact or Fiction'. I could use a card name for 50-75% of my posts if I so chose, and it would fit quite nicely.

Back to the topic at hand: What was the subject of my nightmare recursion? Well, there were two instances. The first was relatively innocuous: one of the numbers on my W2 form happened to match my birthday.

The second and creepier one happened at Easter Sunday mass. I sat at the back of the church, planning to slip out after the final blessing since I was driving back to Houston that day and didn't want to deal with the post-Easter parking lot apocalypse.

As always, people came in late, and for whatever reason, this parishioners at this church had a habit of doing so on a regular basis (and always the same folks). On Easter Sunday, it's even worse as more folks attend who don't usually go on a weekly basis. About 5 minutes into mass, a family slips in a few pews in front of me. Of course, I notice the blonde in the airy, sheer, white blouse with matching white pants. Oh, how I adore springtime when pretty girls reclaim their sundresses from the recesses of their closets!

So as I proceeded to steal furtive glances at all the bare-shoulders adorned with yellow or white or pink dress straps, my eyes inevitably returned to the blonde in front of me. Now, she wasn't gorgeous, and she didn't even have the decency to have on the aforementioned sundress (the outrage!), but for some reason, she caught my attention. But about midway through the mass, I figured out what it was.

Is she my ex? Is it possible that my ex is here in Dallas?

Being analytical, I parsed through what I remembered of the girl I knew. The family didn't match (there were 3 brothers instead of 1), and my ex wasn't Catholic. And I was relatively sure that the girl in front of me was about 3 inches taller, and girls stop growing by their 20s, so the anatomy texts preach.

But the mannerisms were uncanny: the same child-like smile, the blue-green-gray eyes, the frayed blonde hair, the playfulness, and even the ticklishness. A replica! A doppelganger! Or perhaps the same person?

The other thing people are wont to do at mass is leave early, and this girl and her family were no exception. I left a few minutes later, and rapidly opened Facebook on my Droid to check status updates to see if my ex was in Dallas for some reason. Seeing none, I sent off a nonchalant wall inquiry, 'You in Dallas for Easter?'

She commented back a few hours later. It wasn't her. And that sickening feeling got even more nauseating.

What is that sickening feeling? Well a crazy, philosophical thought of mine is that this world is a product of my own imagination, kind of like the Matrix but without Keanu Reeves. And when there are deja vus or doppelgangers or stuff like the recurring numbers on my W2 form, I start to freak out as it lends credence to that unlikely theory. The reason why I believe the world does exist in and of itself (and not as a product of my mind) is that there is so much natural beauty that would be impossible for the human mind to create. That is why I also believe in God, because so much good could not just happen. I know that's not a logical argument, but it's what I believe. (On a sidenote, so much evil is entirely within the realm of the fallen human mind).

But when stuff starts happening like I see the same person in two different places or see repeated numbers, I start wondering if I'm not just trapped in a massive 50th iteration of Grand Theft Auto on the PS9.

And that was my nightmare recursion: the possibility that this world truly doesn't exist, that the glorious bluebonnets I saw growing on the side of I-45 as I drove back to Houston are just a bunch of weeds in a deranged person's mind.

Heineken & Patron, say it isn't so.

--
*said with the sincerest sarcasm.