John and the conscience

So, this should be the part in which I talk about John Doe’s present or future or something like that. It’s not going to happen. Why? Well, mainly because you can’t really write about something that doesn’t exist, even if you call it fiction. John has a past, we established that, but we also established that John isn’t a regular person. He can die at any given time, just the same as he can revive, he can arise from his own ashes, creating a new present and feeding from his meaningless past. That’s why it would be useless to write about his present or his future. These things don’t exist, and most likely it’s better that way.

Imagine what would happen if John would have a conscience of his existence, an idea of the probability and duration of his lifespan. Think about what it would do to him. He would be dead, the thought of having to make plans and take precautions would kill him for good, and hide his body away from any world he could materialize into. We don’t want that to happen, because then everything we’ve established so far would be pointless.  Or do we? Does John really matter? He doesn’t care so the question is pointless. We’re just stuck with him the same as he’s stuck with us.

About John Doe’s conscience, right. It’s hard to say he has one. That’s one of the perks of not having any clue about the concepts like the present or the future. The only conscience he’s got is the conscience of his past. No regrets tough. What would be the point? It’s almost impossible to regret a decision as long as it doesn’t affect your future. And because John doesn’t have a future, he finds it easy to live with the shit that he’s done, and he’s done a lot. It’s quite simple actually. He decides based solely on his fixations and ideals, so that whatever his decisions lead to, it doesn’t change the equation of life. It doesn’t really matter for him if his decisions are good or bad, it only matters that he makes some decisions from time to time.

If it weren’t for John’s twisted conscience tough, there wouldn’t be any decisions to make. His actions are based mainly on his nostalgia. He remembers the times he felt something, anything. He remembers his happiness at the sight of innocence, he remembers the sensation of belonging he felt while being hopelessly in love with Jane Doe, as well as the others, the ones that don’t need to be mentioned. And it’s these memories that make him try over and over again, make him fight for his idealism.

It’s true, indifference suits him, and it treats him well. It’s great, not feeling the need for any feelings at all. But from time to time, John Doe gets infected wit his own nostalgia, like bacteria that lingers in his brain, never really going away. He sometimes craves for feelings. He needs despair to feed his disregard for the world, and he needs love to feed his ego and idealism. He is in constant need of something to look up to, and that might even be the reason why John Doe is so fucked up in the first place. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.