...

It takes a lot of coordination to flow like a river around these obstacles. Mentally, physically, spiritually.

I usually let my friends call me what gets my attention, what they know me as. I want to say it makes me uncomfortable, but that's probably not true. My screen name, I see it as a koan that was beamed into my head. All the names I've come up with since, they're mostly for managing expectations rather than a challenge. And yet, the challenges pause time. I only have so much time before I'm an uninspired skeleton of myself. Of all these names, there might be nothing that's more succint than An Exonym. What if that's the one? Maybe I end up using it when I shake hands on the street?

"Hi, my name's An Exonym. It's nice to meet you!"

I've come down with an existence, not entirely sure what it is. My matter is in a configuration, something known as a body. I'm not going to have this body forever, I've made my peace with that, but what's really strange is that I can call it mine to begin with. The funny thing to me is we can explain the 'what' of the body's conception, but the 'why' of the spirit has nothing. I can explain why I personally do what I do. I'm at a loss when it comes to anyone else, everything starts requiring faith. Stepping into laboratories to explain The Self feels like a pointless endeavor. So much simpler to just be...

"I'm provably possible. At the dawn of time there was a possibility that hosted every part of who I am together in one place. It could have even predated a supreme creator."

I'm not convinced that Yeshu is God, or that YHWH is the supreme creator. I'll respect people's beliefs that help them abstain, especially if they're addicts. None of that's any of my business, I don't mean to step on anybody else's sacred ground. Where I'm caught up is how I'd begin to classify myself, what I openly think is fundamental about reality. Frankly I use homonyms and symbolism enough that yes, Yeshu is God and YHWH made everything. I'm grateful to have the ambiguity sometimes, where other times I feel melancholy about being so confusing. I keep circling back to a jelly bean jar with no instructions, it might not even be a guessing challenge.

"I guess that 42 means how many times a missile has turned into a plant that came down crashing. A number that would rise substantially since the first answer..."